math is metaphor

 Conversation with a friend who was too tired to go this route, but led to some interesting thoughts of mine.

Discussing math, which she hates, and I have come to like. Can't do it, still suck at it, but from a theoretical standpoint, math has become pretty cool. I wish I'd understood a few things about math when I was younger:

• Numbers are just representational. They don't actually exist. Sort of like time, calendars, and morals. They are things we invented and live by, but they don't actually exist in real life. Numbers aren't actual things, they represent things.

• Because numbers simply are representations, they are much more malleable than I believed when I was younger. I believed that numbers were hard concrete things that required ridiculous steps that I didn't understand in order to solve problems that had no basis in life. They were just things that had to be done, either the right way or wrong way, and for some reason my grades relied on them. Sure, maybe I would use this stuff when I went to the store, and grew up to have to figure out stocks or something, and buy a house, but other than that, these school math problems had little bearing on life. you solve the problem correctly, showing your work, or you don't and everybody gets mad at you. That was my experience with math. No wonder I hated it! But numbers are just representations of things. And that realization opened up a whole world of what math could be used for.

• Math is metaphor. Actually, math puts numerical representations to metaphorical things. I like metaphor. I like the bible for its amazing metaphors. Once I realized this, I realized that life is actually mostly mathematical. Relationships with people, the way we serendipitously have coincidences happen, the way we think and operate - it all actually is mathematical formula. We may not know the formula, may not be able to solve it, but if we were able to see the really really big picture, we could potentially put numbers to it all and solve big human behavior questions. Also, math is HARD BECAUSE math puts numbers to metaphor. Metaphors aren't meant to be quantified, they're meant to be felt and experienced. Math tries to force metaphor onto paper and stay still long enough to be solved. But that's the game of it. That's the fun of it. That's how we got to the moon, because people were willing to figure out what those numbers were that could make it possible.

• Math is a big logic puzzle. I like logic puzzles. I'm not great at them all of the time, but I enjoy them. Math - especially higher math - combines philosophy with science and puts it into a logic puzzle with representational numbers and letters. Then the ppl who really like doing that stuff figure it out.

I live in the world of taking feelings and experiences and putting words, movement, and action to them. I live in the world of theatre, music, and literature. I take the metaphor and expand them so they become visible, secondary metaphors through the experiences of fictional characters, music, and dance. But that's because that's where my brain sits. I'm happy there, it's natural there, and not everyone can do it. Mathematicians will take those same things and put numbers to them. It's happy for them, it's natural, and not everyone can do it.

Now I no longer fear math, and in fact actually love it. I had to step away from the judgmental world of school and fear of my parent's reactions to my grades. I agree basic math should be taught so that children can do the going to the store, buying things, buying a house, and all the basic things a human in this society needs to understand. But I also believe that the magic of math should be taught much, much younger. The philosophy of math should be brought into the very beginning of teaching. The way that numbers can be manipulated, can shift and change. They're not the hard-against-the-wall things that I thought they were as a kid when I couldn't do long division. Boy, I did not understand long division at all. I followed the formula, but the "why" of it was an absolute mystery to me. And what's crazy, I thought I knew the "why". I thought it was because math was something that somebody just had to understand in order to be a functional human being. Again, hard wall.

I didn't realize that math was actually filled with curiosity, and mistakes, and people trying to put reason to the things they see. I didn't realize that even the most basic multiplication formula wasn't invented just to torture kids, it was somebody realizing that there must be a faster way to do this thing they were struggling to do - and they figured it out. They figured out a faster way to multiply. An easier way to conceive of these representational numbers, so that they could then go on to grasp bigger things.

Amazing. Because I do that with words. And with theatre. I find better ways to bring ideas to life, to let them ring and register with audiences in ways that they haven't experienced before. To change people.

Now. I sucked at math. I still suck at math. I used to hate math because I sucked at it. Now I like it even though I suck at it. I tell kids when I teach them math (which isn't often) that it really is okay to not know the answer, or to be struggling with the problem. That math is actually about the process of figuring it out. The cool thing with math is at the end of the day, especially simpler math, you do get to know if your process worked or not. In life, we don't get that same luxury.

The kids who will be good at math need to be exposed to it because they will find it a natural home. The others? I wish we could infuse a little more magic and wonder and curiosity into teaching math, because that's what it is. Yeah, you still gotta know basic addition subtraction multiplication and whatnot. You may or may not need to ever know how to calculate a triangle's edges.

But math has some degree of magic in it. And after all, it's the process that counts.

Here's an unsolved math problem for the math geeks:

Good luck with that one.

10 solutions to a better public school

10 solutions to a better public school

Oh, the Trump administration. One ceaseless horror after another. And now, with Cuomo partnering with Bill Gates to "rethink education" - which makes me roll my eyes ceaselessly at another politician (I'm a firm believer in politicians doing their jobs, and I have good faith in most of them) thinking he understands education. And to recruit Bill Gates? As someone to re-envision education? What? Why? Where are his credentials, man! Where's his experience?

Listen. Teachers have been told how to educate children since the role of "teacher" was invented. It's one of the nuisances of being a teacher - that everyone thinks they know better than you, when you are doing everything you can to be better than your own self. I suppose every job has "those people" who think they know it better than you - but I'd love to see the average politician dictate to lawyers how to do their job, or bankers, or oil company owners. Yet - because raising children is a community effort, telling teachers what to do (smacks of misogyny, doesn't it?) seems to be the basis for a lot of educational decrees.

Also, I'm not opposed to the concept of using someone with the interest in education and the commitment to fund educational efforts, and to engage their thinking in some new ways so that technology can respond to teacher's needs. Key: respond to teacher's needs. Not re-imagine education, but respond to teacher's needs in the classroom. Teachers who already know what\s needed, and who already have envisioned a better educational future.

As a teaching artist, NOT a classroom teacher, but also as a substitute teacher in the general education population, AND as a substitute in a not-for-profit institution for behaviorally challenged youth, I DO feel I have a broad spectrum of experience from which to draw an educated opinion.

And Bill Gates, Trump, and Devos are NOT the answer. Of course, I wasn't a particularly large fan of Obama's educational thinking (although I approve of enhancing science learning for everyone - as long as it inherently includes the arts), and I was vocally opposed to GW's approach with his no child left behind except, of course, nearly every child.

When I first wrote this article, it was in response to the hiring of Devos. So I wrote the following, and since it still holds true, I'm leaving it intact:

From a federal level, we should be focused on public schools. Education for everybody. Charters can and often do remove children for whom education is not easy - children with behavioral, health, mental, physical, emotional, developmental, and also absolutely understandable learning challenges - children who have never been in a school setting before, children who have autism, children who have trauma, children who are in poverty. These all result in behaviors that charter schools can select to not tolerate. Public schools cannot turn anybody away. They are for EVERYBODY and the quality of our public schools will speak to the quality of education in our country.

We will always have private schools, charter schools, other places children can go to be educated in the way a parent decides is most valuable to them. BUT - public school. This is the greatest system we can hope for - education for every single American citizen.

So why would we ever promote a system that undercuts what already is a behemoth, but still a truly necessary offering for American children?

We actually have really good public schools, contrary to public opinion. We teach in ways that other countries don't. We used to. We have been doing less of it during No Child Left Behind, and are slowly finding our way back through Common Core. I had hoped we would keep moving forward. But... alas, that is not the case for the next four years.

Below is my list of what is critically needed for all schools. It is a simple list. It is NOT EASY. but it is simple. and it ALL has to do with funding.

1) Lower classroom size
Every study that I've seen cites that smaller class sizes impact learning. I know this practically, you know this practically. It's a simple solution. But not easy to achieve unless you also:

2) hire more teachers
Not just teachers for numbers. Teachers of quality. Teachers of forward-thinking educational systems. And administrations that support this kind of thinking and teaching.

3) Hire more special education teachers, aides, and those with skills working with emotionally, behaviorally, mentally, developmentally challenged youth
Youth are struggling. Especially city youth, especially rural youth. I've taught in both settings. I KNOW what I'm talking about. If you are anywhere in an inner-city you know that poverty-stricken youth are more likely to be trauma-stricken youth, and therefore vulnerable to losing precious education opportunities due to behavior and other reasons.

4) Hire more language and speech teachers to assist youth for whom English is a second or third or fourth language.

5) Provide more high quality after school opportunities - most after school programs are a hot mess, and this I can say I KNOW because I've been there, and 90% of it is staffing the after school programs properly.

6) Keep attendance officers to make sure youth come to school, but not in a punishable way - but in a way that explores why they are not attending. Could be simple, such as not having clean clothes, or an emergency at home, or perhaps education isn't valued at home and there needs to be an outside force.

7) In areas of high poverty, pay teachers MORE, hire teachers familiar with the area and the student's families. Make sure they have access to the additional supports they need.

8) Offer parent training opportunities - how to help their children with homework, to set schedules and to assist them in their educational goals. Parents are not teachers, as the current pandemic has taught us. Or, if they are, parents are learning that teaching one's own students is vastly different than teaching other parent's children. Yet, parents often want to assist, and find themselves flummoxed by new techniques new technologies, and new strategies that make learning successful. Parent training has worked in some urban settings - for those parents who take advantage of it. More opportunities, and especially using digital platforms to reach parents at home, can greatly enhance student success. It goes without saying that we need to...

9) make sure kids have recess. and arts. and theater. and dance. and music. and sports. SOOOO many of these programs have been cut. Kids need three times as much recess during the day - especially younger ones - than they are getting. Dance, theatre, visual and performing arts, music - these are the backbone of our cultural heritage and they are critical for our youth, for sciences, for humanities, for every aspect of building an innovative and thriving country. So not only put those classes back, but invest in them - and the rest will absolutely follow. THESE THINGS SHOULD BE STANDARD FOR EVERY CHILD.

10) Make teaching a financially forward-thinking, incentivized career where teachers truly compete with each other for the best jobs - and schools, in general, have options for the best and brightest educators. Unions that protect teachers, and MUST protect teachers, cannot be undermined in this - but there also must be good protections for the students against teachers who are NOT good quality. I have seen the best, and I have seen the worst - in the same school, same grade, same principal, same everything. One amazing. one a travesty. There must be some way to protect students from the travesty without punishing the amazing. This is the only one that is not simple. But it is a MUST.

Do these sound like no brainers? Exactly.

But this stuff has to be funded, and it has to be funded from the community. From taxpayers. IF we value an educated country (which I'm questioning if we value this right now). This is where we need to focus our money so that EVERY child has a great education. Our future literally depends on it.

Once again, what the arts can do... an artful meditation

Nobody said that the arts will keep people out of trouble.
They are not the magical equation of a safety pill that when swallowed will cure all ills and warm the gullet and brighten gray winter days with sudden rays of sunlight.

Although sometimes, an experience in the arts can feel like that.

I still remember when my eyes were opened to a sculpture that, without some aesthetic education, I would have looked at as a twisted pile of metal. Seriously? Someone twisted metal and called it art, and all of a sudden they're getting paid thousands? Seems like a joke, right?

Except, it's amazing. There was so much within that little pile of twisted metal that once my eyes were opened to the aesthetics of it, the metal sang. It created a song. It danced. It was about form, and the bending and twisting and off-balance angling of the metal form. It was about space, the distance between two delicately balanced sharp prongs-- it was about the softness of the shape against the hard unforgiving structure of metal. There was a story to be found within it. In other words, once I understood some of the craft behind the sculpture, my strong imagination was able to do the rest. It became art. It became valuable and worthy of study and reflection.

That was visual art, a medium I was unfamiliar with. I am familiar with dance, and song, and poetry and writing. Those are my arts mediums.

Art is not a cure. It's a process. An opening. One artistic experience does not turn a math grade into an A. But many art experiences, and the daydreaming, and the discipline of studying any one of the art forms, allows the mind to generate these synapses that cross the structure of our studies. They allow a student to form a connection between equation A and equation B, because art is cross-curricular. Listening to a symphony is fine. Understanding that the sound of the violins is contrasting the pulsing rhythm of the bass-- that's more amazing. Understanding that when listening to a symphony you are allowed to imagine, daydream or concentrate on the music as much as you like (for instance, to think about the violins, the tonality of the song, the history of its making or even to let it remind you of your dog, or your breakfast food, or a nonverbal series of colors and shapes)-- that's freedom.

Art is reflection, study, discipline, freedom, political statement and permission for fun and silliness. Art is a place where mistakes are okay-- where, in fact, the development of the artwork is through a series of mistakes and trials and experiments and sudden grasps of understanding.

A dancer, for instance, wants to twist midair through a leap because the music - or her spirit-  calls for a dramatic move. She doesn't think it and it happens. No, even for artists there is no magic pill that allows art to happen just because you will it-- she trains her body by leaping, twisting, falling. She realizes her stomach muscles are required, and she spends hours strengthening them. She leaps, twists, falls again. She is not graceful, so she practices for hours and weeks to get it right. All for the beauty of one moment of expression. That's art. What does it do for the rest of us? When a dancer moves, we move with them- our bodies sympathetically align with the dancer, and we move in ways our unstudied bodies never could-- we see the possibility of movement in ourselves, and when we get home we try to leap too. We look like elephants trying to jump over a puddle, but in our minds our bodies become as beautiful as the dancer's. For a moment, anyway. That's art.

I study what the arts can do for students when we get them to engage with an art form and begin thinking in that different way. Where their thoughts and ideas are welcomed. Where they are-- not challenged-- but brightened. Enhanced. Worked with. Accepted.

You see, art is where ideas grow.

It is where ideas come to learn how to grow and exist in forms that other people can experience.

It is where emotions live, and where the hard study and sacrifice necessary to create good art are allowed to thrive. You can test someone on the history they know of any art. But you cannot replace the experience of it with study alone. The only way to the arts is by doing, struggling, studying, practicing, and ultimately-- creating.

I tell my students that the only way to write, is to write. The ideas don't leap onto the page by themselves, you have to put them there. And that's what artists do.

So the arts don't keep people out of trouble or magically cure all ills. But they transform lives, and moments, and ways of thinking. They embrace and experiment with ideas. They reveal our weaknesses and our strengths. They are worthy of our time, our study, our attention. The arts are our humanity.

Capisce? 

Back to the serious stuff-- Fraggling!

I avoided blogging during the heavy election season, because after all, I am quite opinionated about much of it. 

So, as my draft blogs tended to lean towards things that could, whether intended or not, become political, I just stayed away from the whole thing. Considering my entire readership consists of me, and maybe two friends, I presume the damage would have been negligible. Still, why piss off my two good readers? Thanks, you two.

Now we can get back to being serious about things that are NOT so serious... like my newly rekindled love affair with the Fraggles. 

I have always, always always always, claimed Jim Henson and Dr. Suess as two of my heroes-- if you think there's not a huge need for bravery in fearless creativity, you need to try some yourself. It's a tough world out there to allow oneself to be fearlessly creative-- I know that I hold myself back in a million damaging ways, and it's wonderful to suddenly find inspiration renewed in this series. 

The Fraggles are a show I watched... a little bit... when I was younger. I remember enjoying them, but I remember small images, not full storylines. I remember the dog, the man, and the fact that the fraggles lived and sang underneath them. I remember the names, the voices and I remember hating the Trash Heap. I was disturbed by its masculine/feminine thing ("it should be a man!!" I kept thinking, but the voice was feminine! Very easily bothered young child, I was. I won't even go into what I thought about Boy George.) 

However, now that I'm older... and a huge fan and connoisseur of muppets and muppetry skills, along with voiceover skills, the Fraggles have become a rich and bold source of inspiration. I was enjoying them from a nostalgic perspective, until suddenly two fraggles-- Red and Boober-- were trapped in rock fall, losing air, and facing.. quite earnestly... death. It was so emotional, so full of realism for two little Fraggles, that I stopped what I was doing and allowed myself to become deeply engrossed in the story. I thought about the children's shows of today-- Dora the Explorer, Thomas the Tank Engine, etc. etc. and thought-- you know, here are real issues, faced by real people, and while kids themselves may not find themselves trapped in a life and death situation like this, they certainly face moving locations, or being isolated, or finding themselves with nobody who understands them-- and here's a show dealing directly with these issues in a hugely emotional and inspiring way. Directly. And in a non-threatening way, because after all, these are Fraggles, not real people. 

Fantastic. 

In the last season, the Fraggles deal with pollution-- oh boy, a political hot button apparently-- but they were most certainly anti-fracking. The polluted water that was being placed in the rock was killing them. Boober prayed-- yes, prayed-- although not to a higher being, but only to "outer space" as he understood it-- specifically to the silly people who populate "Outer Space"-- and left an offering. Prayer and an offering in order to end the pollution that was killing his people. Wow. WOW. Could a children's show even get AWAY with that today? 

I don't have much more point to make than this: we are entertaining-- and yet-- dumbing down our children. We are treating them like little Fraggles, instead of actual human beings. We need to give them shows that are emotionally rich. Politically charged, so to speak. Challenging. That deal with REAL emotions, and REAL circumstances. The Fraggles did it. And they did it through song, dance, humor and bold creativity. They reinforced their ideas through several means- human/dog, Gorgs, Doozers and Fraggles. Multi-faceted approaches to problems. Different perspectives. Intelligent -- no, brilliant critical thinking with some occasional magic thrown in. 

How can we get shows like that back on the air? What would it take? How can we get them to sell and if I'm missing a show that does as much as the Fraggles did, what is it? Because I think these Fraggles are as relevant-- if not more so-- right now, than ever before. Thank you Netflix for allowing me to rekindle my nostalgia-- and reinforce what it means to be boldly creative. 

May I do justice with my life to what I've learned from my heroes. And Amen. 

Roadtime & Forgiveness

It's no wonder we listen to music when we travel in the car.

For one, it passes the time brilliantly. I've been doing quite a bit of car travel, and there is absolutely nothing like music and songs to make the ride move along more quickly. I have also found that singing along with songs I know and love, unlike texting, helps me focus and handle stressful driving situations much better than when driving in silence.

For another, boy-- isn't it uncomfortable to sit alone with your thoughts sometimes? I am practiced at meditation, and being a relatively confident person, I am unafraid of letting thoughts come and go as they will. This week, however, seems to be a bit different.

There was a little kitten, one I loved and adored, who stayed with me for a week before passing. I had found it isolated and alone on the side of the road, only to discover that its family was a quarter of a mile back and that momma cat was overwhelmed and not taking care of her babies very well. I was head over heels with this little guy. I took it home to give it a home-- or at least give it a chance.

I won't go into detail because I'm still sad, but the kitten ended up dying. I'm convinced it was my fault, through a combination of ignorance and some anxiety, along with being improperly prepared to care for the little guy. Now,  I love my two older cats. Dearly. I don't have kids, so they benefit from my being able to dote on them without competition. They, too, were rescued as babies from starvation on the streets of Queens, NY. Even then, I did not feel the sort of absolute love I felt for the little kitten. I don't know why it was so particularly strong.

Anyway, the death of the kitten happened about a year ago. It had only lived with me for seven days. For some reason, the spirit of this little kitten has been hanging around and sending me into tears and feelings of regret.

My more hardy friends may laugh at my sentimentality. That's fine. This emotional reaction has surprised me too. For a week now, on and off, this little kitten and my role in its death has been a constant companion.

Yesterday, I took a longer trip than usual, and had exhausted my music. Once I turned it off, however, my thoughts returned to the little guy. My mind strove to make connections-- why now? why so powerful? Why so emotional? Is this memory trying to tell me something? Should I be on my guard? Is it, like a dream, trying to signify something broader in my life? Or is the spirit of this little cat truly around me? I never even had a chance to give it a name.

Before you know it, I'm crying behind the wheel-- which is probably as distracting as anything.

This whole episode left me with a few thoughts. One, is that when you hold the life of somebody, anybody-- a pet, a friend, a child, a patient-- in your hands, you are ultimately still a human being with all of the faults and failures and love that a human being can offer. No matter what you do, sometimes, no matter how strong your love or care-- it's not enough. Sometimes love itself is not enough. Sometimes. Regret, too, is powerful. And so is forgiveness-- although, when you are truly responsible for another being's life, forgiveness can be a harder one to swallow. I think we play games with ourselves when we say "forgive" -- we really mean "shove it aside into the corners of our mind and hearts and don't think about it." Actual, real forgiveness-- it's a bit harder to achieve, isn't it?

Do I really believe that the kitten would have survived if I had done things differently? Yes, I do. In reflection over my actions, in hindsight, yes. I could have done better. So I regret. I'm sad. And I've lost a bit of trust in my ability to handle something as delicate as another creature's life. Will I let my anxiety override the care another creature needs? Will I make more mistakes and let a life slip away in front of me when I could have done more to help? Will I recognize what's needed? What if it had been a child? Or a friend? Or a parent? Obviously the same mistakes wouldn't apply-- but would the same weaknesses?

Forgiveness, of one's mistakes and one's human limits-- in the face of the death of another-- is not easy. I didn't reach it during my silent car ride. I think I'd rather have listened to music instead.

The secret of faith

The radio program was already in progress by the time I scrolled to it. Typical NPR/Canadian programs are so darned intriguing, I was hooked a few moments in.  The narrator, a woman, was relaying her story about losing faith, and trying to get it back again. She said, and this is paraphrased and shortened: "When I was a girl, I said a prayer to God and immediately received a sign that it was heard. It was a miracle to me, and I accepted it as proof that God existed. I grew up, and began to seriously question my judgement on this. There didn't seem to be proof after all, and in fact much that I learned seemed counterintuitive to there being a divine being. I slowly lost faith. After a hard time, I wanted to have that simple faith back, the same belief in a higher power that I had when I was young. I prayed to God to give me a sign that He was there. At the same moment, there was a huge flash in the sky-- a larger-than-life shooting star, low in the horizon, flashed by. But it was not as easy or as clear as when I was young. Was it coincidence? Was I trying to see signs of something bigger in what was just a chance occurence?"

The girl had an opportunity to renew her faith, but was unable to make that choice.

My friend, Dave Baldwin, shared in his blog the reason he came to believe in God. And it's a pleasant little journey. It inspired me to consider sharing my own reason for faith, because it does seem so illogical when you aren't willing to allow it to blossom. Here is Dave's article: How and Why I Came to Believe in Godwww.dave-baldwin.comwriter. innovator. thought leader.


Unlike my friend Dave, my period of agnosticism never fully included the possibility that this earth was all there is. I left the Catholic church and studied Wicca. The bright, earthly light of pagan-based magic. I cast spells, and had some degree of success with them. I studied what was termed "new age" and like many others, sought information from the old age-- herbs, healing, spirits, etc. I moved through Wicca, and found that while there was much good that could be done, it was not enough. One early morning, or perhaps late at night, after carousing with my friends through the haunted woods of my college, we rested on a hill and looked up at the stars. I said a prayer to God that I would continue to learn more, that my life would lead me to deeper understanding of the spirits, of God, of the angels, of the world. Immediately-- and just like the woman who told her story to NPR, an unbelievably huge shooting star--- low in the horizon and magnified out of proportion by its angle and its location in the sky-- like the moon when it rises low on the horizon-- white brilliant shining light cascading fully across the horizon and its comet shaped tail behind it. It was wonderful. Magical. I asked my friends if they saw it, and none of them had. It was a message, and an answer to me.

I could have, like NPR woman, questioned the timing of it. I didn't. This... this is where faith steps in. Faith is a choice. It is not an accident, it is not something you come by casually and go "oh yeah, I'm full of faith." Faith-- will be tested. It will be challenged by people who have none, it will be challenged by what appears to be reality and science. Faith is all about choice, and allowing yourself to trust in something that is bigger, higher and smarter than you.

Could it have been coincidence? Sure, why not. Except you know what?  God is bigger than that. God can orchestrate coincidence so that it serves as a form of communication.

I have had answers to my prayers throughout my life. When I asked for a brother, He supplied. When I asked for an apartment in NYC, one showed up in a fairly unorthodox manner. When I asked for a roommate, there one was. For help. For love. For assurance. For dinner. For undeniable motivation. For an opportunity. For peace. For truth. For .. for goodness sake, for a free treadmill in my apartment. All I have ever had to do is ask, and it has always been answered. I may not always like the answer. I may not always WANT an answer. But there is one. So-- I choose faith. I struggle less and less with the question of why I should believe, and more with "how can I deepen my faith?" and "if I resent the answer I'm getting-- if I fight and dislike it, am I also then demonstrating a lack of faith?" which brings me back to "how can I deepen my faith?"

If one chooses -- like the woman above-- to believe that a Godly experience is just coincidence, it's ok. Lots of folks call that atheism. I find that most atheists are actually agnostic-- folks who haven't looked too deeply, or read much biblical literature, or who haven't tried prayer, and who don't want to question too much. It's ok. Here's where I loved Harold Camping's response-- although he couldn't pick an "end of the world" date to save his life, he did speak some truth-- and he would say "God is so good, that you can choose not to believe in him and still have a wonderful, beautiful life-- with family, children, work, and wonderful experiences."

On the other hand, if one chooses faith, it's a much harder road. There is so much that will try to convince you otherwise. Plus, it is really hard to talk about. I admire Dave's blog-- it's very bold to stand up and proclaim "I believe" when so many are there to pester with "But why????".

For the record, I also believe we can use science to understand our world, to deepen our comprehension and understanding of how it all works. There is no need for us to pit science against faith-- they actually work hand in hand. Just remember, God is bigger than all of that. If it looks like a contradiction, it may be because we have a limited perspective. I, like my friend Dave, am not one to preach or try to convince anybody else to believe if they aren't willing to go there. Belief has to come from within, or not at all. I simply wanted to stand up with him and say yes, me too. And this is my "why."

I welcome discussion. What have your experiences been? Why do you believe... or not?

darn dogs

I'll keep this short and sweet. Dogs should be leashed. Unless you live on private property surrounded by a safe fence or electric system.

We humans believe that once we get to know an animal, and they have proven themselves gentle and trustworthy with us, that the animal will be gentle and trustworthy with everybody else. 

We have anthropomophized animals so much that when they show and demonstrate the slightest hint of human compassion and empathy, we think they are capable of so much more. True human understanding. I love animals. I believe they are capable of love, dreams and making memories. I believe they do understand compassion and I believe they are capable of heroics and of amazing human-like qualities. 

Never, never have I thought that animals are .. not animals. They still understand things in their own quirkly little animal minds. They still see things,  hear and smell things in ways that we humans seem to be incapable of doing-- and they will still act in their own lovely animal nature when left to their own devices. 

So why on earth do human dog owners (and many other animals, but today I'm picking on dogs) believe that their dogs are trustworthy enough to run around a city block without a leash? I speak for my neighborhood, where my neighbors have been known to open their door, let their dog run around their lawn or down the block, and assume the dog will return. 

Dogs often do. 

But sometimes cars go down the street too quickly to see them.

Sometimes the dogs actually like to go INSIDE the cars of  people who are nearby. This happened several times to one dog, who nuzzled his way into three cars before people yelled enough for his owner to come get him. 

And my neighbors in particular have no problem letting their dogs run around their driveway and their lawn-- not even thinking that another person on the block could be terrified of them. 

Their dogs have run up to me, sniffed me, barked at me and growled at me as I'm walking from my car to my apartment. "They won't bite," the owners assure me. 

I'm not so sure. It takes great restraint not to yell at my neighbors in language which I put aside during the school day, and often I am shaking as I go up the stairs to my home. 

Dogs that are the most loving creatures will bite when they feel threatened, and just because we humans see a different lawn or a house and think, "oh that's not our property," who knows how much the dog believes is his territory? The yard? The driveway? The whole block? 

Dog owners in my neighborhood are just awful, and I'm curious if it's particular to my block or if dog owners all over are just careless, or stupid-- or so in love with their pets that they think, like a certain lion-tamer that eventually was eaten, their animals are above and beyond being the dogs they are?