Blogging the North Florida Republican Debate

I'm very glad that I don't watch television, especially cable news. (What kind of college student these days would do that, anyway?) If I did, I'm sure I would be constantly inundated with information on the Republican presidential primaries - which would not only be distasteful, but also a waste of time. The most I've actively done so far to keep up with the process is to see who won which states. This evening, though, I did decide - largely because of procrastination - to watch the Republican debate in Jacksonville that took place three days ago on the 26th, the first and probably only debate I'll see. Thus, I thought I'd make the most of it: I blogged it.

Photo source here

To begin with, I could barely get past the first few minutes - not because of the candidates, but because of my shock at the stupidity of the debate structure. One minute to respond to questions? Thirty seconds to rebut? Even the Gettysburg Address, known as one of the most brief, poignant and powerful orations in American history, still took over two minutes to say. A debate is supposed to contain substance - enumerated points of argument and logical back-and-forth - especially concerning complex questions of policy. Instead, it is reduced to soundbites, jibes, and one-sentence expressions of faith.

The first question was supposed to be asked by an audience member, yet Wolf Blitzer immediately spun their query to relate it to a stupid media-manufactured issue of Mitt Romney talking about "self-deportation." Why do corporate media organizations so intently shape conversations in a way that insults the public's intelligence? It's really a self-fulfilling prophecy: If news centered on critically-analyzed issues of policy, rather than day-to-day blown-out-of-proportion tiffs, people would expect a lot more coherence from politicians.

That aside, here's the link to the video I watched, as well as my random observations and comments, referenced by the approximate minute. (I apologize in advance for the imbalance in frequency and length of the comments over time.)

• 26: Rick Santorum seems to indicate there's a threat of militant Islam growing in Latin America.
• 32: Romney reveals that, indeed, both he and Newt Gingrich are rich and corrupt barons of the system.
• 36: Santorum plays nice guy and defends Romney and Gingrich's baronial statuses.
• 42: As horrible idea as a flat tax is for the U.S., it's oddly refreshing that Gingrich would reference Hong Kong as a model. (I mean seriously, since when did Republicans want to emulate anything foreign?)
• 56: Ron Paul dares to speak truth to the Republican deity Reagan's failure to have a balanced budget (which in itself is a huge understatement).
• 1:11: Ron Paul says the other candidates have too much faith in government and that he wants everything to be decided by the people. I guess after decades of being an elected congressman, he doesn't think government is decided by the people. Go figure.
• 1:15-18: Santorum ends up being the only candidate to talk about his wife in anything close to a romantic way (calling her his "hero" - no candidate using the word love), and everyone except Gingrich seems to have had a plenitude of children.
• 1:22: Gingrich claims the Reagan mantle. But, disciples present, do you believe this was a holy anointment?
• 1:26: Following Santorum's idiotic fearmongering concerning foreign policy in Latin America, Ron Paul says nothing about the speaker who preceded him and simply sticks to policy - a very admirable way to go about a discussion.
• 1:28: Romney says Obama has ignored Latin America, and basically in the same sentence mentions the new free trade agreement with Colombia. Ironic much?
• 1:37: Romney says our law is based on Judeo-Christian values, which perpetuates a pretty widespread and misleading belief that completely negates the secular European foundation and significant Native American influences that created American government. 
• 1:47: It's very interesting to me that Santorum frames his ideas as pushing for change from the bottom up. In a way, this makes sense as a thrust against the more government-oriented policy of liberals, but on the other hand it is certifiably false that, given all of the Republicans' ideals of free-marketeering and unencumbered corporate dominance, people at the bottom of society might have any more agency after putting these politicians in power. In fact, they'll have even less, as has been demonstrated by the widening inequalities in opportunity and wealth and increasing corporate takeover we've seen across the country. That, of course, is the fundamental reason why I'm a liberal, and proud to call myself one. (And if anyone is reading this, feel free to discuss these issues with me in the comments below as much as you would like.)

I think I'll finish up with some general comments about the debate: In the first half or so, Romney and Gingrich were given most all of the time to talk, but most of the chatter wasn't about America's present and future, but rather their television ads and personal jabs. (I blame CNN for this and the media establishment in general. Politicians may be behind the idiocy, but it is fully in the power of journalists to force them to talk about real issues.) Gingrich took every opportunity he could to attack, whether it was Romney, Blitzer, or anyone else, and by and large it seemed he was pretty successful in doing that.

By the second half of the debate, though, I felt like things had evened out a little bit, and candidates carefully picked out tactical points of agreement with the others and tactical points of criticism. Although I can't seriously favor any of the candidates by any stretch of the imagination (except to say that I appreciate Ron Paul's foreign policy stance of peace) I will be interested to see how the Florida primary goes on Tuesday and I hope that the primary race remains wide open. Someday I hope that American politics becomes more intellectually diverse and vibrant, unencumbered by this unhealthy two-party system. Until then, though, these sorts of spectacles are, at the very least, somewhat interesting to watch.

Educational Regression in Arizona

As a very appropriate follow-up to my last post, I thought I should point out a recent opinion piece from Al Jazeera entitled "Arizona and Chile: Concealing History in the Classroom." This article highlights the recent ongoings in Tucson, Arizona, where ethnic studies classes were dismantled in the middle of the school year and several books were also banned from the library, not for the usual reasons books are banned in American schools, like profanity or sexual content, but because the books promote a different sort of perspective - hispanic, indigenous, or revisionist perspectives.

Take a look at this resolution here.

Now, at present there are a lot of differing accounts out there on the internet as to the number of books banned by the Tuscon Unified School District, the titles of those books, and whether they were banned at all. One site I read suggests that the books were simply removed from the approved curriculum list, and that they would still be available in libraries. Even if this was true, it strikes me as pernicious indeed to remove books from approved curriculum lists; a school board would still have to judge that there was something "wrong" about the books before doing that. The books cited include books about Chicanos and Mexican-American history, books about race as a concept and books with titles like Rethinking Columbus: The Next 500 Years, and even Shakespeare's Tempest. All these books simply place emphasis on topics that are often glossed over or completely ignored in standard curricula. It's clear that, regardless of the exact details, the Tucson school district was acting to eliminate a diversity of perspective from their schools.

Look at this article here.

This is even more clear when one considers the dismantling of the district's ethnic studies classes. Indeed, here the blame can't be placed entirely at Tucson's feet, because it was an Arizonan state law that was passed to ban these courses, and if Tucson didn't comply they'd be deprived of money. (With school districts, it's always about the money.) Stated reasons for these actions from politicians and supporters alike revolve around the notion that classes and books that focus on minorities can only create divisiveness in society. Of course, it is the opposite that is true: blatantly discriminatory acts drive divisions even deeper, and they ensure that students will forever remember the sort of ignorance and bigotry that shut down their classes, enraged their teachers and scarred their school experiences.

However, I believe ethnic studies classes are only a stepping stone. While Arizona is trying to shut out different perspectives in favor of condemning students to a single "unified" and certifiably false perspective on America, (again see my last post), the only way forward is to demolish that narrative and remake teaching in a way that integrates many different views and ultimately leads students not to just accept what they're told, but to question everything and walk through history in many different shoes.

If students consider everything and decide they'd prefer coercive schooling that demands that every child think the same way, they are entirely free to have that opinion. Somehow, though, I don't think that's going to happen.

Lies My Teacher Told Me: A Review

Lies My Teacher Told Me: Everything Your American History Textbook Got Wrong is an exceptional book, written by James W. Loewen. It's engrossing, thought-provoking, and truly something that should be read by every American student, anyone interested in American history, and anyone who has ever looked inside a textbook and wondered, "Can I really accept all of this as truth?"

This book challenges, refutes, and rebukes much of what has been and continues to be taught as U.S. history in elementary, middle and high schools throughout the country. The format is very easy to follow: well-paced and engaging introductory sections, followed by thematic examinations of different chapters and aspects of American history, from Columbus to Reconstruction to the Vietnam War - topics that are utterly maligned, mischaracterized and turned into shameful myths by textbooks and by the history of how those with power and influence have wanted to write history for the American people. This is not some sort of conspiracy theory. It is rather the reality that what American children hear and read in their classrooms is not the whole truth and nothing but the truth, but a narrative filled with heroification, myths, lies of omission and lies of commission, all perpetuated by textbook companies and curriculum creators who hold non-controversial social conformity, and not true education, as their highest priority.

I might describe Lies My Teacher Told Me chapter by chapter, listing the different myths and maligned topics that are explained and rectified by Loewen's important research, which includes his having read and investigated many different national history textbooks, some of them used today, others from past decades. However, I don't think I should really write out a "Sparknotes" version of the book, when what is key, beyond just the facts, is how you feel reading the entire book. Personally, I never ended up taking a course on American history in high school, (though I did in 8th grade), and I also know that many teachers do much to teach what they know to be true, including what they know textbooks gloss over or mischaracterize. Nevertheless, after reading this book I know that many American students are not getting what they should out of history, and I feel it is a real injustice.

Instead of being engaged with the interesting and controversial truths of the past, as I luckily was in my high school history courses, many students simply have 1,000-page textbooks dumped on them, filled with blandly-stated untruths as part of an all-American-goodness narrative that leaves no room for debate and no room for critical thinking. Not only is this sort of history wrong; it's boring. It's also rotting kids' brains when they could actually learn a lot. That's why I encourage you to read this: You'll not only learn a lot, as I did, but I hope you'll also be encouraged to think critical about history education - what you received and what students today receive. It's more important than you think.

Classes for Spring 2012: A Detailed Look

The tradition of listing and describing my classes for each semester of high school and university since this blog's existence has been a long one, but the protocol hasn't been consistent. I did it late last September for my classes in Strasbourg, for example, but for the semester before that (Spring '11 at Georgetown) I rattled off my classes in early December 2010, as soon as I found out my registration had been fully successful and I'd gotten a full course load.

For this spring semester I also got a full schedule - every class I asked for (and I realize I'm quite lucky for that). This time, though, I've waited till now - after over a week back on campus - to get around to listing the courses. It's an eclectic mix - and though at first glance it might seem there wouldn't be any overlap between subjects, I'm already finding a fair bit. Anyway, here they are:

• International Finance
• Tradition et Modernité en Afrique francophone
• The History of Modern Korea in Northeast Asia
• Wealth and Poverty: The History of Development
• Native Americans Making North America

IFinance has in its first three sessions dealt with a few interesting topics, namely exchange rates, currency markets and derivatives. As you may know, I'm not much of an "economics person," and at times I find it difficult (or loathsome) to "buy into" the mindset of traders, financiers and big businesses. Nevertheless, I understand these are important things to know, and I get the impression that I'll be a lot more familiar with economics for the rest of my life after having done these four required courses than most of the public is.

I chose my French class last, after having picked out the other four, and I'm really glad I decided to take it. Sure, taking French isn't required for me now, since I will certainly be put down as having fulfilled by foreign language proficiency requirement once my grades come back from Strasbourg, but all the same I am very glad to get to speak and listen to French for at least two and a half hours per week. I think it would have been saddening to go back to a 100% English life after just coming back from France. Concerning the class itself, I am always very interested in Africa and African history, and I don't think a little literature (which this course will be based on) hurts every once in a while. I'd much rather look at French literature than English.

As to my class on Korea, I will say that it has now become a goal of mine to seek out "virgin history." I don't mean that in any perverse way - I just mean that I've found it very enjoyable at Georgetown, in Strasbourg and elsewhere to explore histories which were up to that point unknown to me. The only Korean history I ever remember learning in school was a little bit in Mr. Bolling's world history class, and there Korea was placed in the context of a periphery state of China - a tributary member of China's international system, along with Vietnam and to a lesser extent Japan. Now that time period and political characterization is but a jumping off point to learning about modern Korea, and I look forward to looking at things in the coming months that I know nothing about, namely Japanese domination of Korea and the Korean (Civil) War.

Wealth and Poverty is a seminar that seems entirely designed for me. There's only been one session of it so far, yesterday, and that hour of introduction certainly can't be taken as indicative of how the whole semester will go, but nonetheless the course is centered exactly on my self-designated theme for my major: the history of poverty. I am very glad that my professor is foremost a historian, so the goal of this class - to place wealth, poverty, and development across the globe into historical context - conforms precisely with what I outlined as my specific goal within my major of international history. Besides all that, discussion among the other students in the class should be lively and enjoyable, and I really look forward to starting it.

Along those same lines, I am taking another seminar as well, this one about Native Americans. Though the title indicates something more holistic, the course is actually centered only on those peoples who inhabited the area from the Isthmus of Tehuantepec up to what are today the southwestern and south-central states of the U.S. (It seems I have been again tricked into taking a course about Mexico - just like in my freshman year.) That doesn't bother me too much, though: I know that there is tons of interesting, new and revisionist history to be discussed, and we will in fact be having that discussion for the first time in just about a half hour. I'm all prepared and I can't wait. All my classes have interesting facets to them, and as long as my interest is satisfied and perpetuated, I know I'll do well in the classes.

The Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial

Last Monday, on the national holiday that celebrates him, I had the pleasure of visiting and seeing for the first time the new memorial that commemorates Martin Luther King Jr. The memorial was officially dedicated last October, so this was in fact the first MLK Day to be celebrated during its existence.

To get there, I walked about three miles from the Georgetown campus, walking by the Watergate Hotel, the Kennedy Center and the Lincoln Memorial, as well as many other places of course, including the Saudi embassy. I got a pretty fun photo of it: I like to think the jeep represents the "Americanness" of oil consumption quite well, parked in front of the representation of our most well-known supplier.

Those sorts of things, however, were not the focus of my day. Instead, I walked briskly along the roads, stopping only to take pictures and at times to momentarily question if I was really walking the right way. After one or two questionable highway crossings, I did finally make it to the National Mall and to the MLK Memorial, which lies just between the Korean War Memorial and the FDR Memorial, set against the Tidal Basin on the exact opposite shore from the dome that houses the likeness of Jefferson.

The water wasn't what I saw first, however. Once I got by the last stoplight and a long line of cars itching to get out, I found myself standing in front of two large, arched stones - a granite gateway to take me away from the world, so to speak, blocking out the streets and traffic and giving me only... the unknown.

I wasn't quite clueless as to what I'd find beyond those stones. I knew there would be a huge statue of Dr. King, and I'd even seen a few pictures of it. Still, there was no way to replicate the sense of excitement I had as I walked through the stones and saw another large stone, as tall as the others. I could only see its rough-hewn backside, and my anticipation grew as I slowly edged counter-clockwise around it from a distance, moving through the crowds and - as much as I could - keeping my eye on that central stone, which I knew was what everyone had come for.

As you can see in the picture above, what I first saw plainly was the message that encapsulates the whole idea of the monument: Out of the mountain of despair, a stone of hope. I also began to glimpse more and more of the statue, and when I saw him plainly, he was quite a sight to see.

Just as much as all the stone, however, and the walls which exhibited many of Dr. King's quotes, I valued seeing all of the people in that place. The area wasn't packed shoulder-to-shoulder from the walls to the basin, for sure. It was quite full, however, and certainly blew out of the water any thought I could have entertained that a chilly day in the middle of winter might not bring many visitors. Most importantly, everywhere I looked I found smiles and gladness - and I could not but help to join in that feeling of community, content as I had been in my previous pensive solitude. My sincerest hope is that those smiles represented in some small way the sort of community and the sort of love that Dr. King was looking for in this country. He knew quite well during his life that there were many problems in our society, even after - especially after - the passage of the Civil Rights and Voting Rights Acts. Were he alive today, growing old at the age of 83, he'd also know well the injustices that continue to plague us - the inequalities, the poverty, the denial of civil rights. All the same, we can all feel hope, and we will always, always have love to win the day.