reality shows

Reality shows us unimaginable forces. Tornados violently devastating towns, leveling neighborhoods for miles; teachers sheltering children from savage storms and at other times, from deranged  murderers; first responders rushing to save and assist victims; caregivers everywhere attending to needs great and small; love among family members and friends…..These are the images of reality that are continuously shown on our screens in the aftermath of dramatic events. They may be gripping events, and often seem unprecedented, yet it is the reality of the human responses that grips us. We may not know or understand all the facts that contribute to such absorbing incidents, but we have immediate and visceral responses to them. Sometimes those experiences are overwhelming or maddening, but often they are invitations to examine ourselves.

These events become the stuff of history, and therefore lessons. The truths of these events– the forces preceding the events and the forces of the events, as well as the aftermath, become the stuff of art.  In the meantime, we watch and listen to images of reality that force us to imagine what we would be; what we could be; what we should be.

On days like today, reality shows us the art of living.

Horrorism

As of 6:00 pm on this Tax Day (and Patriot’s Day in Massachusetts), Monday,April 15, 2013, two explosions occurred near the finish line at The Boston Marathon, killing two and injuring scores. These are the early reports. Certainly there are more questions than answers at this moment, but already we are hunkering down, and fearful of more danger in the coming hours, days, and weeks.  News commentators have proclaimed that the terrorists have scored a win, as authorities have already admonished citizens to stay home. Pennsylvania Avenue in front of The White House has been closed to pedestrians this evening.

The Boston Marathon, one of the great annual events, is usually a joyful experience for spectators and runners alike. While the individuals compete against each other, there is also a sense of community–of spectators cheering on the runners and offering water to all. It’s about personal best and fellowship. It’s one of the least divisive sporting events. Until a bomb goes off.

The Boston Marathon is both a local event and a global one. It is viewed around the world as those competing hail from all over. Today’s blast is not only an act of terror, instilling fear through violence, but it is horrifying. Bostonians and those visiting this great city have been terrorized. The rest of us watching from afar may also feel fear (terror) that there are more imminent attacks, and that they may not be limited to Boston. But what we all should feel is horror.

Violence may be endemic to the human condition, but we have transformed many of humanity’s ills and diminished the prevalence of violence from time to time. As we consider laws to reduce gun violence, there are simultaneous calls to arm teachers in schools to protect students. Many see the answer to violence as being better armed. This was the proposition behind the Cold War. More nuclear arms would prevent war. So how do we reconcile the need for safety with the need to go about our lives, and to prevent horrifying accidents?

Of course, this was no accident. This was terror–whether it was homegrown or international. Chaos and fear ensued, and disrupted a magnificent day. And there were many horrific injuries as well as a couple of deaths. We need to not only be safe from harm, but teach our children that violence is not a solution. We now have a generation who have grown up since 9/11 who are more exposed to violence from our two wars, multimedia, popular culture, and more demands for guns as an expression of freedom, rather than freedom from guns and violence.

We won’t be able to control or eliminate all acts of violence, random or planned, but we can teach our children that violence is horror, not freedom.

Future Tense

It used to be that the future was exciting.  Of course, that was in the past. Now, in the present, yesterday’s future, we fear the future. Whether it’s: terrorism, nuclear obliteration, the next super-bug, or super-storm; climate change, crushing debt, or no more jobs; politicians who don’t stand for us, corporations who speak over us, horse meat and hormones, or unriching education, we are growing increasingly more tense about the future.

We have ample evidence today that we have many issues to tackle.  Even more disconcerting, is the rationale against tackling issues. We see how seemingly intractable so many problems have become. People across the political spectrum have dug in their heels, and have been most concerned with ideological purity and political power. Instead of climbing mountains, or even seeing that shining city on a hill, we’re staring down fiscal cliffs. Cynics have divided us into makers and takers (although I’m not sure everyone would agree who’s who). Hope and change became nope and same. Everyone is disgusted and fearful.

Despite the reality upon which our fears are based, we are becoming blinded by the fear. When teaching History to high school students, I remind them of other periods when the world seemed like it was about to end, or at least had turned very dark. When they can imagine their grandparents’ world, and that life continued, and the future included their lives, they can begin to shift their perspectives.

History is a great teacher. So too are the arts. The combination is most effective in conveying ways in which humans have confronted issues and experienced difficulties and forged new ways to shape lives and communities. I encourage teachers to include paintings and music, as well as dance and theatre in their History classes. I also encourage a fusion of History with Math and Science, and of course integrating the arts in those classes as well. Perspective is important in each subject (and in life), and is easily exemplified in the arts. Students in Language Arts classes learn perspective (person) in grammar and literature (through character and voice). Education is not merely the accumulation of facts. It is in fact to enrich (not unrich) our lives; to broaden our perspectives.

As a nation, we have been struggling with accountability in education. Students are assessed; teachers are assessed; and schools are assessed. I’m not sure that our assessments are  actually geared toward improving education, despite the good intentions. Moreover, the focus on those assessments as the determiners of future status for students, teachers, and schools, has created greater tension and a more limited education.

Given the many challenges that we must meet in our schools, our communities, our politics, and in all aspects of our lives, it is easy to be cynical and fearful. When we are fearful, we shut down possibilities. When we nurture our creative instincts, we begin to think in the future tense, creating possibilities and improving  what was started.