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A Question of Purpose: Education

Throughout this semester’s Civic Issues blog, I have explored how many different aspects of our culture and society affect how we provide and receive education in the United States.  It is complex, flawed, while also great and innovative.  We have come so far in history so that America’s education caters – albeit sometimes at different levels of effectiveness – to both genders and a variety races and nationalities.  But for we college students who have successfully made it to the other side in mandatory public education, I feel inclined to present a question for your mulling over: What really is the purpose of it all?

Is the goal of public education to prepare citizens for a “required” higher education necessary to get a job? Think about it.  More people go to college than ever before, but are we necessarily a smarter population?  Degree inflation runs rampant.  Couple tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars later, and some college grads are back for round two with the parents while waiting tables at the local restaurant.  Of course, there’s nothing wrong with waiting tables ( do it – it’s super fun), but what was the point of going to school? Societal pressure? No, this isn’t an answer.

In contrast, according to Spring’s The Goal of Public Schooling, the opening statement of the U.S. Department of Education’s A Guide to Education and No Child Left Behind, the goal is not for you own good, but the good of the country.  “Satisfying the demand for highly skilled workers is the key to maintaining competitiveness and prosperity in the global economy”.  Not that there’s anything inherently bad about this – but this is for America, people.  In fact, the book also blatantly reads, “Parents are not asked at the schoolhouse door what they want their children to learn and how they want their children to be taught; these decisions are made by a complex political process”.  Rather, public schooling operates on the public interest.  But here I ask you, is this dangerous?  Because primary and most secondary schooling is required, one could infer that educational institutions can serve as driving forces in indoctrinating a young population with specific political and economic ideologies.  After all, Nazism was enforced outside and within the classroom walls, as fascism, German superiority, and undying devotion to the Führer was instilled into minds that had no other choice.  Oh, you say, but that’s Nazi Germany.  And yet, have you ever wondered how an American high school history class in America differs from an American history class taught in Germany – in any other country for that matter?  Where does utilizing history to learn critical thinking skills and gain insight into the human condition cross over into territory of indoctrination?  No, using students as political chess players and economic weapon-wielders should not be the primary goal of education either.

However, some do argue that the purpose of public schooling is in order to instill good values in accordance to good citizenship, all this being required to maintain a functioning republican government.  According to Gastil, deliberation as a means of a successful government can only successfully occur with proper education of citizens.  Is that not the point of this Rhetoric and Civic Life? Which, in a way, we have to take?

And yet many students, including many voices within this very class, instead advocate for a different education; an education for the purpose of our own personal intellectual stimulation.  After all, we’re the ones making the investment; is it so selfish to elevate personal benefit above all else? I challenge you to think about why you’re here in college, and also how you benefitted from the past twelve years of public education.

And also,

what would you change?

American Education, or American+Foreigners Education?

For my last Civic Issues post, I entwined my topic of choice, Education, with another CI topic – that time, gender.  I think it is important as well as fascinating to explore how the different CI topics relate to each other, so this week I delved into what diversity in education looks like, specifically the issue (or non-issue) of foreign students in higher education.  The presence of these students are harmless, if not beneficial, to many; however, others argue that foreign students’ ability to take American spots in college (and later, possibly the work force) should be monitored or capped.  With all our nation’s talk about immigration reform, I found the system of foreign students’ integration into American society enlightening as well as question-raising.

First off, the facts, because most are probably unaware of the process of the roughly 760,000 foreigner‘s enrollment in U.S. universities, such as our own.  Students must obtain a visa – as a means of permission, almost – in order to study here. However, this specific document (an F-1 visa) holds implications that the students will return to their home countries after their period of study, and they actually must try to prove they will return as a means of acquiring the ticket to U.S. education.  However, it is indeed possible for the graduating student to upgrade his/her F-1 to a temporary work visa that is valid for up to 12 additional months.  Still, many students hope to score the H-1B – the work visa.  Herein lies the controversy, for while some are unhappy with foreigners scooping up the already-scarce American jobs, others argue that bright, foreign students are necessary to America staying ahead (echoing the Option 1 of the in-class Education Deliberation, eh?).  President Obama himself has stated, in regards to foreign students becoming American workers, that “In the global marketplace, we need all the talent we cant attract… we don’t want the next Intel or the next Google to be created in China or India.  We want these companies and jobs to take root here.”  Many others share this sentiment, stressing that a large proportion of our country’s companies, innovations, and research discoveries – our country’s success, ultimately – was due to the talent of foreigners on American soil.

Of course, foreigners in the work force often begin as students of the American higher education system, and many colleges and universities share their diversity statistics with pride.  Institutions of higher education may market themselves on the basis of providing prospective students with a more holistic, global education and student body that only their international students provide – a facet that is becoming  increasingly desirable as our society itself continues to undergo globalization.  In my opinion, this too is valid, for I have often heard friends share how cool it was to hear the perspective of the foreign student in their class who can personally relate to class material in a way that Americans can’t.  In class, you and I also are learning the value of diversity of experience and opinion when deliberating certain issues.  However, while international students may be desired for these admirable reasons, there is something else at work here too: money.  Foreign students contribute $21 billion a year to the national economy, and most importantly, they contribute full tuitions.  No financial aid, no scholarships, no in-state tuition.  Colleges and universities are not required to give them anything.  Actually, some colleges actually charge them additionally fees, such as Purdue University’s $1000-$2000 fee. So then, foreigners become an economic advantage, for what exactly makes an American student worth thousands – or tens of thousands, even – of dollars? Beyond filling quotas, essentially nothing.

While there are many sides to the situation of foreign students at American institutions, some may beg the (stasis) question of Definition: is this a problem, even?  Is it so bad that in an increasingly global society, we are accepting global students – especially when we have no problem with studying abroad ourselves? What do you think – does the benefit outweigh the cost of denied entrance, either in college or the work force, of Americans?

 

 

Philosophies.

Upon reading the teaching philosophies, I found that I wanted to be a teacher.

Okay, I don’t want to be a teacher (at least the desire has not struck me yet), but I found that the good ones made me think, for just a second, that being a teacher would be the greatest thing like, ever.  What did it, I believe, was that the good philosophies had passion.  God, I love that stuff.  I’m an inspiration junkie, and nothing does that like someone who “has a love affair with”, “fell in love with”, or “feels a personal calling towards” whatever they are doing in life.  That said, I found that those who used this flowery language to describe their career in teaching in their philosophies were those professors of the humanities, and I suppose this cannot be a total surprise.  On the contrary, the philosophies expressed by the professor of landscape architecture or the professor of rural psychology seemed to have a more technical tone; this, also, may be just be a direct reflection of their passion towards the more technical fields, guided by more technical personalities.  And while I particularly loved the authenticity and passion expressed by the “flowery language professors”, it does not mean that the landscape architect loves his job teaching any less.  That said, I obviously enjoy the style of the professor of Philosophy and the professor of History in their teaching philosophies.

With all of these examples, though, is a similar format.  All seem to at least touch on a background of their relationship with teaching (some providing fun little anecdote of the passion uncovered as a child), as well as describing their class structure – both literally and in the sense of the class “feeling”.  The philosophies tell of each professor’s personal beliefs about teaching, and how they strive to convey these beliefs in the classroom – sometimes in order to create a specific experience for their students.  Finally, some professors adequately tie in their philosophy of teaching with their grander, broader philosophy of life.  I like this part especially, and while it may be harder/weirder to emulate with a philosophy of moderation, I do hope to incorporate some broader view and purpose of this specific task of moderating.

La Comida!

Come on, guys.  You know you’ve just been waiting for this one.  Tacos, enchiladas, nachos, GALORE. Sike.

Y’all are loco.  This is NOT Mexico.

One of the (sadly) most common misconceptions about Spanish food is that it is Mexican food.  But don’t you worry – Spanish food is still scrumptious, and you know what – it’s actually not usually as fatty in the process.  Sure, there’s your chorizo sausage and obsession with ham, but that’s as bad as it gets.  Although, this is real evidence of what a good Spanish meal can do to you

Just couldn't get enough of that dessert there.

Just couldn’t get enough of that dessert there.

Not only is the type of food different in Spain, but the manner in which people eat is different as well.  Spanish tapas are common, and they are small plates of food (kind of like appetizers) that people generally eat with a nice beverage. The design of eating tapas actually echoes Spanish sentiment regarding food, friends, and conversation; much like other parts of Europe, the small bite-sized, sharable portions of tapas are, in theory, supposed to encourage conversation and good company, as diners are not as preoccupied by a full plate of food to finish in front of them.  The origin of tapas may be a bit gross however; tapar literally means “to cover” in Spanish, and traditional tapas of simple bread and meat were used to “cover” eaters’ accompanying glass of sherry.  Cover the glass, why, you ask?  Oh, just from fruit flies.  Don’t you just hate it when those little buggers get in your drink?!

While I’m probably going to break the Spanish Food Extravaganza post into two (stay tuned for next week), I feel I should also take the moment to introduce another Spanish staple: sangria! For you folks out there totally unfamiliar with this delicious fruity, legal delight (thank you, European alcohol laws), sangria is, simply enough, chilled red wine jazzed and razzletazzed with fruit – usually orange, lime, apple, and berries.  Oh, and a dash of brandy.  Or maybe, Sprite/7Up instead if you don’t want to go too crazy.

Sweltering Madrid afternoon? Yes, please.

Sweltering Madrid afternoon? Yes, please.

 

Bailamos

Ah, the sensually passionate art of Spanish dance.

spanish-dance-david-lloyd-glover

 

Suffice it to say, the Latino community is quite well-down for its dabbling in the art of dance.  From the Dominican merengue,  Argentinian tango, to the Cuban salsa, many of us are quite familiar with the look and feel of la baila, even if it is simply because we’re obsessed with Dancing With the Stars.  However, because this is a Spanish blog after all, I feel the need to share with you the famous dance originating in Andalusia (southern) Spain: Flamenco.

However, Flamenco is more than just a dance.  Flamenco is an entire art – an entire culture – featuring a rich multi-aesthetic experience of guitars, dance, large ruffled skirts, and a whole lot of hand claps.  Although originally an outlet for more the poor and the oppressed, Flamenco flourished to become a public, performing art in the late nineteenth century as more cafe cantantes emerged to hold the performances.  However, the Andalusian, Arabian, Jewish, and gypsy influences are said to have originated from as early as the 16th century.  The Flamenco dance is, at its core, proud yet graceful, with its expressive arms and stomping feet:

While this video of Flamenco is not precisely professional, it still does capture the spirit of the art:  Flamenco is always performed with tap-like shoes and a long skirt for the women.  However, the style of dress does differ with professional performances; often times, the conjured-up image of a flamenco dancer is a man in high black pants and a short jacket, while women would characteristically be donning a long, ruffled dress (often red), a flower accessorizing a slick-backed bun, and at times a fan for accentuating arm movements.  Ah yes, and most importantly, the tap shoes.

Now, shall I add “learn how to Flamenco dance” to the Spain bucket list, then?

Deliberating Possible Deliberation Sites

Well, as you all know, I am a running junkie. As a result – yes, I do have a subscription to Runner’s World and I am obsessed with the oh-so-cute-but-I-can’t-afford-that Lululemon.  Coincidentally, they both have sites that promote feedback and comments to blog posts as well as articles.  However, while Sarah did mention that her colleague/friend referred to his running blogs and such, I’m not quite sure if I would want to use it as a base point for all “deliberations”. I mean, is running a civic issue even? I like it, but I can even admit that the normal person in society does not ponder the effectiveness of an ice bath for recovery, or nutrition for the best results for training for a marathon, or the benefits of a minimalist shoe. Nevertheless, I am going to use Lululemon as an example for potential deliberation because it includes a more well-rounded approach to its posts – those that go beyond fitness to include musings about life, health, but also community.  Also, Lululemon pretty much has a cult following, so responses and activity won’t be difficult to come by.

On a more serious note, because I am interested in health, this extends to a undeniably civic issue of health care and the recent health care reform.  My potential careers could be supremely affected by governmental decisions regarding health care, and quite frankly, I somehow still haven’t managed to take a firm stand on the issue.  So, I want to learn more, and I want to bounce around other people’s ideas while offering my own.  And, what do you know, The Health Care Blog seems to be such a place! Upon first glance, I’m not quite which side this particular blog comes from (if it supports Affordable Care Act or not), but I’m hoping it presents both sides, and I plan on delving further into its many posts.

The Fighting of the Bulls

First: Alicia was sad that I didn’t originally include music, so while Limbo is pretty unrelated to bullfighting, it is my most recent Spanish jam.

Earlier in  my last post, I had briefly mentioned how plazas were often the term used to refer to an arena for one of Spain’s most famous past times, bullfighting.

Well, mis amigos, bienvenidos a la Plaza del Toros de las Ventas.

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Located in Madrid in the district of Salamanca, the Plaza del Toros has been around since 1931. Bullfighting increased in popularity the most in the early 1900’s such that a bigger arena had to be built (this one holds 25,000 people!).  Though bullfighting has endured some controversy over the years due to ethical treatment of animals, it remains an integral and passionate part of Spanish culture.  Bullfighting maintains its season from March to December when they take place typically every Sunday night. madrid-ventas

Bullfighters, or matadores or toreros, are respected and admired by the public, just as the fame known by athletes.  Donning elaborate costumes and putting on a show with their capa roja, the bullfighters dance with, run around with, but eventually kill los toros in a dangerous – but no doubt exciting – show of power and grace.

Especially interesting to me, though, was a scene found outside of the arena of a statued matador saluting D Fleming: 268925_10150233697512713_2810187_n

The statue reads: Al Dr. Fleming en Agradecimiento de los Toreros: 14 Mayo 1964.  Translation: To D Fleming in Appreciation of the Bullfighters: May 14, 1964.  Who is Dr. Fleming, you ask? Raise your hands if you ever had to take penicillin for an infection: Yep, you owe agradecimiento to Sir Alexander Fleming for his discovery in 1928, too.  A bacteria-fighter with impressive potency, penicillin has since been recognized as one of the most important life-saving drugs, casually landing the Scottish biologist and pharmacologist the Nobel Prize in 1945.  As bullfighting is certainly a dangerous sport – and not just for the bulls – the statue was erected in 1964 to pay homage to a man who had saved the lives of many in the deadly ring through his infection-fighting wonder drug.

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Yep, we like him too.

 

I Believe in Running Away From My Problems

This I believe

I see middle school as a mental test designed by sadists wanting to offer kids their first big life challenge. All children who have tasted the glory of ruling the school in fifth grade must eventually be subjected to the cold, tiled middle school halls that teem with adolescents and insecurity.  In defense, my quiet seventh grade self found an odd solace in perfectionism, tenaciously grabbing onto some Rule Book of Expectations. Though praised for excelling, I somehow slipped and fell into a mindset of no mercy towards myself – no grace.  But, after all, it can be hard to find mercy and grace in a place that doesn’t even allow you chewing gum.

I am a small-framed girl.  I always have been – I have metabolic genes worthy of envy. I would have been fine – I wouldn’t have caused such a fuss – had I just left it alone.  Instead, I tampered with nature, whittling away “small” to “smaller” week after week . Soon it was doctor’s visits to get blood tests I already secretly knew would turn out normal, but still I left them to wonder to themselves: is there something wrong, a thyroid problem?  As expected, blood levels were completely normal – but my weight was still dropping. Eventually, they had me document in a small navy notebook everything I passed through my lipsfor a nutritionist visit. I never told them it all was on purpose; I still don’t know how long it took them to catch on. I myself never voiced the truth. You see, there’s less shame in blaming faulty machinery. I was no more than 13 years old.

My personal therapy came in the form of a summer morning in North Park after a year of some increased normalcy, when a friend asked me to accompany her to the first high school cross country practice.  Before the summer of 2008, I was not a runner. Not even close.  I had no relationship with running shoes, colorful spandex, pace charts, split times.  I had no familiarity with the clickety-clack of spike to pavement, the ignition of fire in muscle eclipsed by a euphoria of experiencing the world through heightened senses. I didn’t yet understand the dynamic sounds and exhilarations of swallowing up distance. Didn’t realize the peace and healing of cadenced breathing, trampled grass and dirt, seas of gazelle legs.

I didn’t know clarity.

I didn’t know confidence, or freedom.

For this reason, I believe in running away from my problems. My love affair with running reflects everything I gained when I began to see my body in light of what it could do, rather than how it could look. What started as a distraction grew into a passion capable of bringing healing. I began to nurture an attitude of respect and love towards my body as my physical home and ultimate resource. Running became, and still is, my peace, my mercy, and my grace.

 

 

What Even is My Passion?!

So, here’s the problem.  I am one extremely indecisive girl.  In everything.

This, unfortunately, spills over into my academic endeavors, leaving me scrambling at the last moment to do a project, start writing a paper, or perhaps choosing a topic for a Passion Blog (cough, cough) after changing my original plans for the umpteenth time.  While I enjoyed writing last semester’s passion blog about optimism and providing my thoughts about a worldview that is more sunny than gray, I’m not that I could keep it up and keep it interesting for another entire semester.  Plus, variety is the spice of life, right?

However, I will still keep it in the back of my mind as a possibility.  As for other potential topics, a true passion that always comes to mind for me is running.  I have been running competitively since the beginning of high school, and I am currently a competing member of PSU’s Club XC team.  I truly did mean what I said in class on Tuesday while sharing our brainstorming for the upcoming podcast project: Running is the cheapest, most effective therapy. Therein lies another problem though: writing about running for my Passion Blog and then using it for inspiration for my podcast may be a bit repetitive.  Not so fresh.  Above all, though, I just don’t know how to make a blog about running interesting to everyone, rather than just my fellow running enthusiasts.

Another possibility of increasing potential, though, is traveling.. I love to travel.  If I had the time and the resources, I would travel somewhere new every weekend.  I plan on studying abroad in Spain next spring (although that wouldn’t really help a Passion Blog now).  I could offer sort of traveling guides of places I have been before, as well as places I really hope to visit in the future.  I could explain the culture, the food, the people.  Add pictures.  A video or two.  Some words of the native language?

Yes, I like this idea.

 

It Would’ve Been Fine if We Just Went to Sydney.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I am by no means complaining about this:

Nor am I complaining about this:

And of course I’m not complaining about this:

(the Ghiradelli store–in case you can’t tell)

BUT.

I am completely and 100% complaining about the fact that I am STILL sitting in the JFK airport at 3:35 pm, when my flight out of San Francisco last night was the red-eye with a departure time of 9:30 pm YESTERDAY.  I’m complaining that because of this, I am missing my Chem test (okay, I’m really okay with that), but yet I am frustrated with the fact that the make-up isn’t for a couple weeks (so long, fresh chemistry knowledge) AND is comprised of material from all three exams (hello, unforeseen-mini-final).  Not to mention, the only reason why my mother and I saw a night of sleeping on a plane as our best option was for the sake of this god-awful chemistry exam that I won’t even end up taking.

Shannon is not optimistic today.  No, I’m switching it up (although, does a pissed-off rant necessarily count as cynical, or just a part of life?).

But then, I know I really don’t have room to talk.  I just spent three days in one of the liveliest, loveliest cities in America: San Francisco. No, I didn’t just up and decide that hey, this weekend doesn’t have much going on–let’s leave State College and fly across the country (although what a life that would be!!).  Nah.  My cousin had her beautiful wedding this weekend overlooking the Golden Gate, and it was fabulous, wonderful, delicious, and well worth the far travel.  However, how could we have known that a little fog in NYC at 6 am this morning would completely shut down JFK-one of America’s biggest hubs? That was a nice little surprise to wake us up from our struggled-slumber snuggling with our red Delta blankets: a PA system announcing to us with its deepest apologies that we are not landing in JFK after all, but rather the exciting destination of Albany for the time being.  But after that? We don’t even know, but we’re far down on the waiting list for available runways. Hope you’re not missing anything important, but you will most likely miss your connections.  Suckas.

So, here I am. And I’m not even quite sure what insightful things I have to say about the matter.  It just seems like the entire airway system is so fragile and so susceptible to getting completely and utterly screwed up, and therefore flyers’ plans become susceptible to getting completely and utterly screwed up.  Often times, it is beyond the airlines’ control; after all, safety takes precedence in the air. But, when it all comes down to it, someone gets screwed.  Flights can’t wait for you, or else many others get screwed.  It’s just an all-around stressful sometimes-you-just-can’t-win situation.  Even now, sitting on the carpeted floor with my laptop, I hear announcement after announcement about delayed flights as a repercussion of this morning’s fog. Fog. The fog was ten hours ago! Who knew it could do so much damage to so many schedules?

Well, my gate moved again (literally, third time), so I should go.

But, I’ll leave you with this: next time you travel by air, make sure you pack your patience.

 

P.S. In reference to the title: my newlywed cousin Sarah and her husband Dave left San Francisco not long after our own departure for their looong trip to Sydney, Australia. They will have made it to their destination halfway around the world before my mom and I make it home. What’s wrong with this picture?!

Alright. I’m done.