Humanities 101, again

For 'regular' readers this will seem like an issue re-hashed. However, I have a real interest in the success not only of the Humanities 101 program at the Unviversity of British Columbia, but in fostering an awareness of, and appreciation for the very real benefits of this, and similar, programs.

I was asked by a freelance writer if I would answer three questions. Those questions appear here as the lead in each section. As ever I am pleased to get feedback, appreciative of constructive critique, and right now I'm sitting in an internet cafe in Kuching, Sarawak, with things I'd rather be doing than answering these questions. But, there are things you just have to do…

Here goes; trust me the skills people can acquire and hone in Hum 101 will serve them well, whatever neighbourhood they are in, even in the wilds of Kuching, Sarawak. And, at internet rates here this might cost you a coffee, at Starbucks!

1. what does a liberal arts education mean to somebody living in a
neighbourhood like the dtes?

In the original article in Harper's (check apostrophe) Earl Shorris commented on what he termed 'the surround of poverty,' the forces that act against the individual who tries to engage in any capacity other than mere survival, which in themselves can be frightfully busy-making. A woman gets a welfare cheque, the vainglorious sum of $515 (fact-check this), on which she is expected to survive for a month. Take the 'rent' portion out, lets say $325, and you are left with $190. A little over $3 a day, Canadian dollars, when we talk of world-wide poverty in terms of US $1/day… The need to confront a culture that denies the individual's dignity, that belittles, dehumanizes, and denies is faced daily by those trying to exist (legally) within the 'social services network.'

Humanities 101 means that woman might realize she can reason her way out of a given predicament. She learns to read critically throughout the year-long course; then goes and re-reads some piece of bureaucratic spam. Her skills and effort are rewarded in the realization that she can fight back. She understands that the double-speak is meant to exclude, rather than to inform, and she challenges that intention.

The reading, critical thinking, and observational skills taught in a liberal arts degree allow this woman a freedom beyond that which her apparent cultural capital would suggest, not only to her but to those around her. Think of it as guerrilla thinking.

2. is there a value in hum 101 even if it doesn't mean the student does not
go on to get a degree?

Let's unpack the question. As presented, the question suggests that it is the degree that matters, rather than the intellectual processes that should, properly, inform the degree.

I think in this case, that it is process rather than product, that is important.

A woman, learning to read at 50 odd years of age, made it through Humanities 101 a couple of years ago. Brought tears to me eyes, as well as many in the room when she stepped up to receive her diploma. When I ran into her a couple months ago she said that Humanities 101 was the defining moment in her life. That is a very strong recommendation.

Would that person be better served by going on to earn a degree? Maybe. But I have my doubts. It was the courage to step up to Hum 101, to engage with the program, to walk in to a room full of strangers and bare your soul to their examination, and finally to walk across the floor to their acclaim that seriously changed that person's life.

Could a Humanities 101 grad get a degree? Yes. But only if they can confront the 'surround of force' that poverty, illness, social exclusion and self-doubt impose. And for those that attempt it the degree is a different project. But it is a project that, arguably, was only conceivable after the challenges of Hum 101 were met. And for that alone, for the fact that Hum 101 offers the potential for change, it is worth every second, of every day, for most of its participants.

3. what has hum 101 meant to you?

Virtually everything. How is that for an opening answer? Hum 101 allowed me to open doors I would not have otherwise attempted. It helped answer the 'am I smart enough?' question. It allowed me a space wherein I realized that the argument was what must be faced, not the person presenting the argument – and that includes me.

It allowed me to face people half my age, with social capital I could never match, in intellectual circumstances previously unimagined. I learned, or allowed myself to realize, that 'they' were not the enemy. But rather that, to abuse a Marxist phrase, I had been sentenced by my own 'false consciousness,' one that attempted to force an unbelievably narrow world view into explaining what I saw, what I felt, what I believed.

I go to the graduation of every single year of Hum 101 because I have a debt, a moral obligation, to the program. Not for what it 'did' for me, but for what it allowed me to accomplish on my own. I go because I want to see those people who most benefit from the experience that will allow them to confront the 'surround of force' that afflicts them.

The year I graduated, 2004, I had the privilege of giving the 'commencement address' to the graduating class. I told them then, and believe to this day, that getting through Hum 101 was a far greater achievement that actually getting my undergrad degree, and for that matter my Masters (still on its way…)

And, hey, I now know why I write directly to the blog rather than trying to cut and paste…

Hope that answers the questions, You can quote at will, according to fair use provisions, but the author retains copyright to the material, and that moral right is hereby exerted.

Humanities 101 lecture – third half

Humanities 101 lecture – third half

I had the opportunity to speak with one of the participants of the Humanities 101 class in which I delivered a lecture last week, and was pleasantly surprised by their observations, comments, suggestions.

There is a moral sensitivity to maintain the anonymity of the reviewer, if you will, for their comfort, and the comfort of their fellow participants.

It was most emphatically noted that no one got up and left in the middle of my talk. No one got up, repeatedly, to go to the washroom. There were no idle conversations amongst participants while I presented – and those that evolved were germane to the material. No one made repeated trips for coffee, or tea, or whatever.

It also appears that everyone who was there the first night, was also there the second night.

I have to admit I’m pretty pleased with the feedback. I wish I could say the same of many of the classes I have taken as an undergraduate, or for that matter, as a graduate student.

But there were a couple suggestions:

My PowerPoint presentation was, essentially, an electronic version of the old ‘overheads’ that I grew up with in school nearly forty years ago. That said, it was suggested that I could present more notes, rather than all images, perhaps speaking to bulleted points. I thought that sounded like a good idea – the one caveat is not literally reading your PowerPoint notes aloud. A terrible fault, and one that too many people suffer from.

The second point was that I might engage people in ‘group’ work a little earlier in the process than I did this time. That one I hedged on a bit. I felt some information had to be provided in order to situate the Jane Jacobs’ readings in ‘time and place.’ I still think so.

And, someone I have the greatest regard for, said this in an e-mail “You were made to stand in front of students–you have teacher written all over you, I mean in a cultural dna sort of way.” And I can’t think of a nicer compliment. Thanks.

Humanities 101 lecture, second half

Last Thursday, the 16th March, was the second half of my inaugural lecture in Humanities 101 – I survived – but not entirely unscathed.

There were issues I wanted to raise with the students, equal participants in the lecture with me, my role in many ways only to facilitate the students’ recognizance of the reading, and their ability to engage with Jane Jacobs’ ideas and position. Broadly speaking I believe I lived up to my role, the students allowing me room to maneuver, and actively engaging with the work and myself.

Thank goodness for small mercies.

While the first evening had a script, which for 15 or 16 minutes gave me a concrete platform on which to stand, the second evening was to be free form all the way. No parachute here.

While there were points of interest I wanted to raise, authors (both broadly supportive and opposed to Jacobs’ views) that I felt should be mentioned, I hoped to have the students’ contributions to the evening define ‘where, what, who, why, when’ might be dealt with.

Well, the changes to the evening’s ‘program’ began even before I got started.

Several students had come across a glossy advertorial magazine, a real-estate sale vehicle, largely focused on the Woodwards re-development in Vancouver.

I have had a very small role to play in the Woodwards redevelpment process, being part of the ‘Community Advisory Committee,’ whose mandate requires working with the City of Vancouver, the developer, the architect of record, and other community, social, and business groups associated in some way with the project.

The magazine showed two, quite different, views of the project. The cover of the magazine imagined the redevelopment as part of the greater cityscape, all glossy and showy in an imaginary sense, while the interior pictures were retouched versions of the architect’s models – which placed the project within a very particular social and economic realm. The two views however can lead to cognitive dissonance if the viewer is familiar with the current state of the community – it will be interesting to see how the intended buyers react.

The students were interested in, I hesitate to say ‘intrigued,’ by my analysis of the differences between the reality and ideological positions referenced in the two illustrations.

The remainder of the evening went well; the students were, for the most part engaged and engaging. Their questions were well thought out, often challenging, and illustrated curiosity and intellectual verve.

By the evening’s end I was exhausted, exhilarated, and thrilled to have had the opportunity to present to them.

I hope the opportunity will present itself again in the future, and that I may learn from my students as well.

My thanks to the students, the volunteer tutors, as well as Brianna, Stephanie, and especially Peter (who conned me into this).

Humanities 101 lecture, first half

I'm not sure that it is appropriate to abdicate responsibility by suggesting that other people have the authority to judge my work by their own standards. It seems unfair that performance is adjudicated relative to an unknown, and perhaps unknowable, set of expectations.

The first lecture of my life is over. My heart rate has settled, my respiration rate is back to normal, and the self-reflexive examination of the perceived stress leading up to the presentation proceeds apace.

That was way easier than I expected.

The students were there on time, more or less. We managed to get the data projector and laptop from AV Services before they closed for the day, by seconds. All the cords, wires, connectors worked as promised. The CD, burned on a Windows machine for me, played on a Windows machine flawlessly. At least it played flawlessly when I figued out (with help) how to get the 'slide show' function to work. My Mac still seems easier and more logically designed and implemented.

After the 'canned' introduction, several pages of text that served as a script, the lecture went 'free form,' hoping to follow students interests relative to the Jacobs' readings on the 'use of sidewalks.'

This entry is to remind myself of the inanity of getting WAY TOO STRESSED ahead of time. But it also reminds me to allow the Humanities 101 students as much leeway as possible, while still allowing me to present the information I want to share.

Thursday night is another lecture, with no script at all, other than what exists in my mind so far. I'll ask the Humanities 101 students, and their undergraduate mentors, to write a short piece on Jacobs (if they are interested) and on their perception of the 'delivery' of the material. I'll comment on their work, and attempt to take the critique positively.

And now, time to go out for coffee in the city.

New Opportunities

Many, many years ago, in a dark urban space, terrible things may have happened. And some of those terrible things that may have happened, didn't. And, in a moment of clarity, I made positive decisions whose echoes affect me every day.

This is, in short, a way of saying that important things in my life happened and they happened in distressing circumstances. And, while I admit to the experience, those events are none of your business.

What is your business, as it were, are the results of those experiences. If all that follows an event is contingent on what 'came before,' all that I do now is the outcome of actions taken, decisions made, and the 'theory of unintended consequences.'

This brings me to some observations on an opportunity that has come my way.

No! There is no sales pitch for anything.

As an avid reader I came across an issue of Harpers, an American left-wing monthly, several years ago. In the particular issue were two articles on education – and the articles had widely divergent positions on the value of a liberal education in today's world. One, by Mark Edmundson, was cynical. The basic premise, as I recall, was that for the vast majority of middle-class American youth in university, the experience was essentially 'lite' entertainment. The other article, by Earl Shorris, regarded that same liberal education as 'a weapon in the hands of the restless poor.' And I qualified as both restless and poor.

Two undergraduate students at the University of British Columbia read the article, and with their drive, social convictions, and the help of a few maverick educators, Humanities 101 was born in 1998.

I graduated from that inaugural course in 1998. In September 2000 I, who had stormed out of grade 11 only three days into the school year, started at UBC as a undergraduate. I fulfilled the obligations of a major in Human Geography, and graduated well above the University's 'average' in April 2004.

Those were all opportunities. I grabbed them, ran with them, and did the best I could. Or, at least I did the best I could justify in terms of school/life/commitments all considered relative to the input vs results.

My first year in university was unusual; I was in classes with people young enough (mathematically) to be my grandchildren. And some never realized how old I was; it never crossed their minds that anyone would start university that late in life.

?: "How do you know all this stuff?"
A: "How old are your parents?"
?: "40"
A: "I'm older than your parents"
?: Silence as the questioner ponders the very possibility that anyone is actually older than their parents…

Now, a couple years after graduating, I am going back to Humanities 101. This time, not a student, but as a lecturer on urban 'stuff,' particularly Jane Jacobs' ideas about the uses of sidewalks.

It is a daunting task; I, like many, suffer some degree of stage-fright. I, like many, hate to say in public, that 'I know.' But now I have to fight the stage-fright. I have to assume the mantle of 'authority,' not to be error-free, absolutely correct, but to guide, inform, answer, and illuminate areas of the urban life that I find compelling.

I have to give these students opportunities; I present a situation, a condition, a theory of action – and they can question, probe, accept, deny, suggest alternative views and experiences, they can (and in this academic environment may) suggest I am out of my mind. These are not docile, inexperienced, cowed students grubbing for marks. And I'll love the challenge.

I accepted the opportunity. Wish me luck.