Nelson Mandela’s story; embrace the complexity
Yesterday, Nelson Mandela’s death reminded us of a lot of things: historical events, hope, overcoming odds, perseverance, and also complexity in the human experience.
One benefit to the Internet’s web of blogs, articles, and search-ability was how Nelson Mandela’s complex story, one that was not always encouraged by United States, politically, was shared.
Jian Ghomeshi, CBC host of Q, tweeted a moment of his interview with Professor Cornel West about how Mandela’s image was being sugarcoated to fit a simple idea:
Me: Mandela is 'Santa Clausified'?
Cornel West: 'He gets turned into this unthreatening huggable old brother w/ toys. That wasn't Mandela.'
— jian ghomeshi (@jianghomeshi) December 6, 2013
These strong words made me ponder my own human complexity, for no person is simply one thing, one idea, one constant belief.
How can we show tribute to a great man if we don’t also consider his criticism of the Iraq war, criticism of western power, criticism our own political leaders?
We are ever changing, physically, mentally and spiritually; why do we expect that the our heroes, leaders, and one’s with notoriety won’t go through transition, growth, and change?
If we embrace the holistic complexity of others, it will allow our own complexity to be embrace.
Today, we definitely feel the lose of Nelson Mandela. We should not lose the full story of this man in the headlines of our news, though. Let’s embrace the full figure.
Yesterday, the Atlantic published a short piece about grading at Harvard, titled “The Most Commonly Awarded Grade at Harvard Is an A.”
The article rekindled interesting debates about college education and grading; and the overused criticism that my generation were given too many “trophies” as kids.
While not an Ivy League experience, I’m reminded of an experience during the most difficult course I took at WMU, English 372.
* * * The Test That Shook the Class* * *
In English 372, we studied the etymology of the English language. The first test shocked the class of about 25-30 students.
I scored the second highest grade in the class, if I remember correctly, a 56%! One student got an A. (There’s always one every class, right?)
Anyways, here’s where things got interesting. The class was pissed they did so poorly on the test, so they organized a meeting with the dean of the English department.
This felt wrong to me–Professor gives a difficult test, so class goes to complain?–but the cutest girl in the class asked me to attend.
So, there I was, nervously tagged along to the dean’s office, dressed unprofessionally in my cargo pants and American Eagle sweater, 56% test grade in hand…
* * * Quick Note: The Grading Scale * * *
I did have one issue with my grade. The professor graded on a four point scale. Basically, if you scored an A, you got a 4. B: 3. C: 2. D: 1.
Scored an F? You got a zero. Zero credit.
I still believe I should have received a 0.5 for that test grade, for I got half of the test correct. $0 is different than $0.50 when buying gum, too, but the professor oddly rounded all failing grades down to 0.
* * * The Dean’s Office * * *
Anyways, like tattle-tails on the playground, us twenty-year olds go to the dean’s office, which was awesomely humbling.
The dean attentively listened to my fellow students’ complaints.
He then refuted all complaints with one obvious statement, that the professor had an academic right and responsibility to make a class challenging, as long as it’s fair. The test in his eyes seemed fair, and that we should now know how to better prepare for the next four exams.
I mentioned the grading system, and he paused. “I see your point on that. You should bring that up with your professor…”
* * * The Next Exams * * *
OK, here’s the point of my blog. The rest of the semester was an incredible learning experience.
Knowing that the tests were challenging, the class started working together and talking to each other. We had a few study groups. We shared notes on the phone. We got to class early to review. We took the class seriously. We worked our asses off.
(Plus, that cute girl also asked me for my number! But, alas, she only wanted my notes from class and advice on studying for the tests.)
* * *Final Grades vs Final Experience * * *
13 years later, I’m still astounded with how much I learned from that challenging class.
I might not remember much pronunciation of Old English, but I still appreciate the main themes of that course. That class encourage a lifelong dedication to analyzing diction and a love of language.
While, I never pressed the idea of the grade weighting being unfair, 13 years later, who cares about the grade?
Grades aren’t the point of learning. Challenging, fair academic environments create an incredible experience for most students. And students will be amazed at what they remember years later from a difficult course.
Which leads me to wonder, if the Ivy League is indeed inflating grades, are students missing out?
Follow up article: So What if Everyone at Harvard Gets an A?
The Dean said he agreed with me.
I thought back to this experience a lot.
A Portrait of a Songwriter on a Monday
6 Reminders for Those Who Hate Michigan Winters
I hate winter, but I was reminded of a few perks to the cold weather as I shopped for groceries today. I thought I’d share them.
1. Forgetting a bag of groceries in the car is not tragic. (A car becomes an extra icebox.)
2. Beer can be left outside to chill. (Save room in that fridge!)
3. Less car and home break-ins. (Criminals hate the cold, too.)
4. Christmas lights are pretty. (Downtown Rochester, I’m thinking of you!)
5. Wardrobe of sweatshirts. (Let’s hide those extra pounds we gain, comfortably!)
6. Yard work ends. (Sure, we have to shovel the snow, but at least we can stop mowing the lawn.)
“The Turnpike”
Rain pounded my
windshield,
melted green mountains
against a gray sky,
like Monet’s
brushstrokes across
a framed canvass:
His dangerous landscape.
I was one of two
cars stopped
at an emergency
pull-off.
Our pairs of hazard lights
blinked off-beat
against the rain’s
steady staccato.
That goddamned storm
wouldn’t pass,
it too—
stuck in place.
We fought it out alone
together,
anticipating our next
destination.
November 22, 2013