Conclusions are important.
The end of the semester is one of my least favorite times of the year, both as a student and as a paren- I mean, teacher. I began typing "parent" unintentionally. Foreshadowing? What? No. What? Finals start, and everyone is locked in on doing what they have to do to survive, then finals end and the semester is just over. There's no time for reflection, no appreciation, nothing. At Hillsdale, my friends finished finals on all sorts of days/times, and it was likely a majority of the friend group left town before anyone really acknowledged they were leaving. You have a plane to catch, or a long drive ahead, and you don't have time to hunt everyone down and say goodbye, and the people you hunted down might resent you interrupting valuable study time, so you just hug the people you see on the way out and justify the rest by saying you'll see them next semester. It's unfortunate, but unavoidable.
My worst semester ending was my first at Hillsdale. I had pulled multiple all-nighters during the week (Thurs - Wed), and my last final was 8 a.m. Wednesday. Calculus. I finished at 10 a.m., and all my friends were gone. I hadn't even been aware of the passage of time or what day it was; everything blurred together. Funny story: I may have dozed off during the math final and scrawled some nonsentence about Dante's Inferno as an answer (my previous final had been English). Thankfully I woke up and realized the potential disaster, pulled myself together, and finished the test with mostly number responses. I can only call it a funny story because I still pulled out an "A" in Calc that semester (Calc 2 is a much different, much longer, story). Also, it's important to note that I learned from that experience. I got better at finals, and sleeping, later.
My master plan called for me to move dorms (from Simpson to the Suites, long story) by myself, then drive the 8 hours home (by myself). I had no one to help me move, so this involved several car trips in freezing weather on no sleep. There's this one brutal scene where my biggest piece of furniture (a papasan) won't fit in my car so I'm balancing it on the roof as I drive through the snow. A combination of all the most horrible things in life: moving, sleep deprivation, cold, solitude... Between every trip I would collapse on the sheetless bed and give myself a pep talk to keep going. More than anything, I just wanted to make it home and sleep in my own bed. The worst part was, they were closing down the dorms so I couldn't have stayed if I wanted to.
Once I'd moved everything, I started driving, made it an hour or so, then pulled over and slept in a parking lot. Remember, I was going on no sleep, a math final, and moving by myself. The only reason I woke up was because my body was slowly freezing (try napping in a car for an hour when it's 10 degrees out), but my extremities somehow resisted hypothermia and I made it the rest of the way home.
The same thing happens now as a young teacher... everyone just wants to get home, and very few of my friends are actually from Phoenix, so that means the last few days are full of trips to the airport and hasty goodbyes. Different schools end at different days/times, too, which doesn't help. My only warning that Travis was leaving for good was that he yelled "Merry Christmas!" as he slammed the door on his way out. I was left on the couch thinking... "hmm, that's unusual behavior, I wonder when I'll see him again..." Sub-optimal for sure.
It's obvious that the finals system is to blame here, rather than a lack of planning ahead on our part. Tongue-in-cheek? Either way, the solution is far less obvious. In fact, as a teacher I've been just as frustrated.
I have two scenarios. First, Economics. Their final is group presentations, and it takes the entire period. No opportunity to address them one last time, and I won't teach them again in the spring.
Then, Medieval History. I give them a final and they usually have some time left at the end of the period, then I will see them again next semester.
Economics was tough because their presentations ran long this time, meaning the whole class had to stay over the assigned hour forty-five slot. So, our last experience together was a majority of the class getting stressed/annoyed, with a few unlucky students up front attempting to finish their presentation after the bell rang. There's no way I could keep them longer and attempt to give a few final thoughts or even to thank them for a good semester, it wouldn't be fair. It really bothers me that, after a semester of teaching those two sections, now I'll never have a chance to address that group all at once again. Even though we had a great semester, I don't like the last experience, and that takes away from the overall experience.
Medieval is both more and less tough. There is a lot of variation between when they finish the test, so the first student may be done a solid 30-40 minutes before the last. In that time, my main requirement is to keep the classroom quiet. Some kids are fine; they bring study materials or books, but most of them are as restless as you would imagine being after finishing a final exam. So, they end up being loud, and what usually ends up happening is me rebuking/threatening the students for the last part of class. I can't even realistically threaten them with detention, or send them out in the hall, or any of my go-to disciplinary tactics, because its the end of the semester. It's a lose-lose situation. Even if I were to settle them down successfully and talk to them the last 10 minutes before the bell rang, they wouldn't be listening. At all. Which, would make me even more frustrated. I know because it's been a failed strategy in the past.
During that last week or so of school, the momentum is building so quickly that it becomes impossible to stop, or even slow down. Ideally, I would be able to find a time to have a brief heart-to-hearts with the section, to review the semester and summarize a few takeaways, or things to think about for next year. I failed this year, and it's on short list of things I haven't gotten better at over the first few years of teaching. The closest thing I've come to a solution is note-writing... this year I managed to write a note to every student who brought me a gift, plus a few extra/special students. The way I see it, if I know there won't be an opportunity for us to pause in the chaos together, I can pause it in writing on my own, and they can pause to read it later. An imperfect solution, and not one I'm satisfied with.
The importance of endings is related to the "What have you done for me lately?" mentality, which says that a multitude of positives can be blotted out by one negative, if the negative comes at the end. It's both entirely unfair, and entirely understandable. I know its the way my memory works, and it takes a Herculean effort for me to see things in a more rational, balanced perspective. One thing I'm good at is viewing other people in the long run. Rather than judge them on their last interaction, I can average it out to have a more accurate opinion of them. I'm much more hard on myself, though. In each of the first two quarters, the worst week for me was the last week, and that has been driving me crazy. It makes me feel like a failure. I can't get around it.
Now for the sports analogy that you've all been waiting for! It's not at all necessary, but it's a good story, and it's Christmas.
My freshman year, there was a quite open four-way race to be the 5th starter on the varsity basketball team. Me, my two best friends (both named David), and my best friend's older brother, Bryan, who was a senior. The coach used it as motivation the whole pre-season, and didn't tell us who'd he picked for the spot until the practice before the first game. He picked me.
We were basically a two-man team, so the last three starters were very much role players, but still. Starting varsity was a big deal, especially when you're beating out your friends.
I had played basketball for the first time in 7th grade, and I was the last player on the bench by a wide margin. For whatever reason, I fell in love with it, and basketball became the single biggest focus of my high school life. I wanted to be good at everything, but basketball more than anything. Getting named a varsity starter as a freshman felt like all the work I'd put in over the previous two years was paying off.
I was unbelievably nervous/excited for the game. It was an absolute disaster. I had three traveling violations (4 total TO) in the first half, and I started the third quarter with another traveling call. Kobe can get away with those stats, but not a freshman role player on a HS team coached by a lawyer. I guess that's what happens when you spend your summer practicing without referees around and have an infamously quick first step.
So, there's me, sitting on the bench for the rest of the third quarter. Was I crying, you ask? Yes. I had just squandered my chance, everything I'd worked for was wasted. The immensity of the failure was impossible to ignore. I didn't start another varsity game that season.
That's a sad story, right? But, I skipped the ending. I didn't tell you what happened in the fourth quarter.
By the fourth quarter, our team had opened up a lead, and the coach decided to give me a few more minutes. I came into the game knowing I couldn't play worse than I had.
I got a pass on a breakaway and made a layup. Then a jumpshot from the left side. Then an and-1 (FT good) on another fast break. Then a 3-pointer (one of those that looked bad the whole way before kinda swishing through the side). Then, I was fouled on a jumpshot and made 1-of-2 free throws.
11 points in the 4th. More than any other role player scored in a game the whole season (with one exception).
The story isn't sad anymore. I wasn't ready for varsity pressure, but I did have a high ceiling, potentially. The coaches changed their approach to me as a result of that first game. I was going to gain experience playing JV primarily. So, freshman year I was the go-to guy on the JV team, and it made me an immensely more confident player, and a leader. The next season I was a co-captain on the varsity team.
Fun game: you can measure how well you know me by the point in this blog where you realized it wasn't going to have a conclusion. Before I started writing? Tom Sawyer level. The title? Jon Gregg level. The first sentence? No excuse for missing that cue, folks.
.
..
...
....
.....
....
...
..
.
Fine. The point of not having a conclusion? If you feel somewhat robbed by the lack of a cohesive ending, that's the same feeling I get at the end of the semester. If you feel like a lot of potential was lost, yeah. And, obviously, these last few sentences are the filter through which you will view the earlier thoughts. Now, whether you want to call this paragraph explaining why there's no conclusion a conclusion is up to you.
Did you see that coming, Tom?
How bout that?
The end.
...
..
.
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Sunday, October 27, 2013
Just do something.
It seems like there should be a small gap between the thought "X should happen" and "I will do X". All too often, that thought process is hijacked after "X should happen" into "Somebody should do X". And when everyone is thinking "Somebody should do X", more often than not, "X" doesn't happen.
There's a term that applies to this, more or less: the bystander effect. If you scroll down to the examples on that Wiki page, they are nothing short of shocking. Twenty-five people walked by a man as he lay dying on the sidewalk, having been stabbed in NYC. Eighteen walked by a toddler who had been hit by a truck in China. Essentially, the more people observing a situation which requires action, the less of a chance any of them will act. Everyone thinks someone else will do it.
This rationalization is even easier when you have reason to believe it is someone else's responsibility. Why would you stop a crime if you aren't a police officer? Why would you save someone drowning if you aren't a lifeguard? We love to segment responsibility to justify inactivity. There's plenty of evidence, for example, that people donate far more to charity when the government isn't involved in a cause. Once the government takes on Hurricane Sandy relief, everyone else stops giving.
Students and schools provide another great example.
I've noticed over the last few years that our high school students complaints had a general theme to them: there is a lack of school spirit and very few non-academic extra-curricular outlets. Basically, they felt as if the school asks them to go to class, do homework and go to practice, then sleep and do it all again. Everything they do for the school is exhausting, mentally and physically. Playing sports and doing Jazz Band and attending Quiz Bowl events are enjoyable, but they also require hard work. It comes down to the "All work and no play theory", ultimately. Is "play" necessary? What is play? Where does it come from?
The normal school outlets such as football games and dances have historically been poorly attended by our students. We are a relatively young school, so many of the customary high school spirit traditions haven't been built up yet.
When this came up in the past, I always tried to sell it as a positive. If we don't have traditions yet, that means the current students have the opportunity to shape the school into what they want it to be. I always told them the change had to start with them. They had to set the example, not wait for others to lead.
Anyway, I had that conversation many times with students last year. But, I didn't really see any notable/systemic changes in behavior.
So, the problem we've identified is an absence of school spirit and extra-curricular activities/distractions of the "fun" variety. Here's where the "bystander effect" comes into play... All sides - students, parents, teachers, administration - can see and acknowledge the problem, but no one views it is part of their "job description", so to speak. Administration has more important things to worry about, Parents don't have the access required, Teachers don't have the time, and Students don't have the mindset/authority.
I am totally committed to Scottsdale Prep. At the same time, I'm close enough with my students that they feel comfortable coming to me with their complaints. So, it has been really hard for me to see my students so unsatisfied, especially in an area that seems so fixable, and feel powerless to help them. Am I powerless, though? Of the four sides, it seems like teachers have the best opportunity to make a difference.
So, to recap.
Year 1: Too overwhelmed to recognize any problems, much less attempt to solve them.
Year 2: Acknowledge legitimate student complaints, verbally guide them toward solutions.
Year 3: ???
In short, my mindset entering the year was to be the catalyst for the students. When I heard/thought "Someone should...", the someone is always going to be me. I was going to help make ALL the "X's" happen.
There are a few reasons I had this mindset. First, no one else came to mind to fill this leadership role (the Myers-Briggs personality test has me pegged as an INTJ (introverted, intuitive, thinking, judging) — one of the major characteristics is being reluctant to lead but capable when necessary. ..(Seriously, skim over that INTJ description and you will understand me so much better)... Secondly, the DO ALL THE THINGS mindset was at least partially leftover from our month-long Europe trip. When you're traveling, you live every day as if you may never come back. Mainly because it's true. That is only sustainable over short periods of time, though. When I look back at Europe, I'm still amazed at how much we fit into every single day. A day in Europe is like 4-5 days of a typical summer schedule, maybe more. Anyway. Finally, this was the first year of teaching that I wasn't going to be coaching a fall sport, so I figured I had some extra time to work with.
Here's the list of extra-curricular accomplishments from the 1st quarter:
-Created a Spartan Twitter account so that game updates could be sent out instantaneously.
-Sent out updates from the Twitter account nearly every day.
-Oversaw an unofficial weekly group of students discussing God and religion.
-Started Four Square Club, which now has 30+ members and weekly "meetings".
-Assigned an economics project to see which section could get the most people to a football game
-Designed/ordered the t-shirts for Homecoming, which had been an area of complaint last year.
-Made the playlist for home football games, and DJ-ed games.
-Put together a weekly Athletic Update sent out to all parents w/ team summaries.
-Started a weekly Ultimate Frisbee game that turned into an Ultimate Frisbee Club.
-Facilitated a game of Senior Assassin which is now running smoothly w/o me.
-Advised students on the best way to get a "Powderpuff" (girls flag) football tourney going.
-Applied to Guinness World Records for a chance to beat Longest Marathon Four Square game (29+ hours).. response pending.
All of this is in addition to attending multiple school athletic events per week, often volunteering, always tweeting updates. Twitter alone has provided a visible boost to school spirit this year so far, in my opinion.
Oh, one example from before this quarter. When I coach Sand Volleyball, we have open practices on Saturdays. Anyone can show up and play, which I like because my girls get to play against guys and beat them. This is doubly worthwhile because it puts the boys in their place and gives the girls training playing against unusually athletic competition. The tradition continued after the season, and there was a whole group who got together and played regularly over the summer.
In a few of those examples, I had significant initiative from students, but I took the step to give them the responsibility. I specifically asked a few students to help design the homecoming shirt, with great results. I helped create the rules for Senior Assassin, which are currently being enforced by an alum.
I abandoned many other aspects of my life in order to accomplish these things, but teaching was not one of those aspects. In the first quarter, I was by far the best-organized and prepared I have been as a teacher so far. I also managed to work out regularly, which I've found vital to maintaining high energy levels from day to day. Beyond that, I didn't have much of a life. Many of my relationships suffered, and my focus on building community amongst the faculty wavered. I was not paid for accomplishing any of those things on the list, which is especially painful considering I actually lost money from not coaching and many of my friends spent the quarter prepping for the GRE. So, was it worth it?
I'd like to think I've had an impact on the students' school experience this year, and I love that I can provide immediate help for the students that I've known for years and care so much about. Without those connections, I certainly wouldn't have considered this project. But, my goal is also far more wide-reaching than just this year. I want those students to get to a point where they don't rely on other people to make things happen. They need to become self-reliant. High school is such a crucial time in realizing this and making the leap to be an initiater. Once that leap happens for them, it will benefit them the rest of their lives. I suspect it comes naturally to me because my own high school provided so few possibilities, and we all had to make our own fun. If our upperclassmen can get over the mental hurdle and begin taking more initiative, the rest of the students will follow their example, and I won't even be necessary. Not only that, but if I can build the framework this year for activities that are repeatable next year, we may even start having a few traditions beyond studying for final exams every semester. Again, the reason I can justify doing all of this volunteer work is because I think the impact will continue beyond this year. Our school has a great curriculum, great teachers, and great families. I'm trying to build a sense of community while correcting the belief that an academically rigorous school cannot be fun. If we can have both strong academics and genuine school spirit, Scottsdale Prep will be unstoppable.
The best example of the full spectrum of change so far is Ultimate Frisbee club. There's a senior who had mentioned the possibility of an Ultimate Frisbee club to me for a couple years. My typical response: "Get it started, and I will gladly be the faculty advisor." Well, one day he brought it up again and I just said: "Name a time and place. Okay. Now tell all your friends." Well, he did, and I told my classes, and that was that. It was huge for him to realize it didn't even have to be a club. They didn't have to jump through tons of official red tape hoops to get together and play frisbee regularly. Since then, the senior has turned it into a real club, contacted another Great Hearts school with a club, and scheduled a game — all without my direct influence or input. The game was played while I was out of town. Scottsdale Prep won.
There's a term that applies to this, more or less: the bystander effect. If you scroll down to the examples on that Wiki page, they are nothing short of shocking. Twenty-five people walked by a man as he lay dying on the sidewalk, having been stabbed in NYC. Eighteen walked by a toddler who had been hit by a truck in China. Essentially, the more people observing a situation which requires action, the less of a chance any of them will act. Everyone thinks someone else will do it.
This rationalization is even easier when you have reason to believe it is someone else's responsibility. Why would you stop a crime if you aren't a police officer? Why would you save someone drowning if you aren't a lifeguard? We love to segment responsibility to justify inactivity. There's plenty of evidence, for example, that people donate far more to charity when the government isn't involved in a cause. Once the government takes on Hurricane Sandy relief, everyone else stops giving.
Students and schools provide another great example.
I've noticed over the last few years that our high school students complaints had a general theme to them: there is a lack of school spirit and very few non-academic extra-curricular outlets. Basically, they felt as if the school asks them to go to class, do homework and go to practice, then sleep and do it all again. Everything they do for the school is exhausting, mentally and physically. Playing sports and doing Jazz Band and attending Quiz Bowl events are enjoyable, but they also require hard work. It comes down to the "All work and no play theory", ultimately. Is "play" necessary? What is play? Where does it come from?
The normal school outlets such as football games and dances have historically been poorly attended by our students. We are a relatively young school, so many of the customary high school spirit traditions haven't been built up yet.
When this came up in the past, I always tried to sell it as a positive. If we don't have traditions yet, that means the current students have the opportunity to shape the school into what they want it to be. I always told them the change had to start with them. They had to set the example, not wait for others to lead.
Anyway, I had that conversation many times with students last year. But, I didn't really see any notable/systemic changes in behavior.
So, the problem we've identified is an absence of school spirit and extra-curricular activities/distractions of the "fun" variety. Here's where the "bystander effect" comes into play... All sides - students, parents, teachers, administration - can see and acknowledge the problem, but no one views it is part of their "job description", so to speak. Administration has more important things to worry about, Parents don't have the access required, Teachers don't have the time, and Students don't have the mindset/authority.
I am totally committed to Scottsdale Prep. At the same time, I'm close enough with my students that they feel comfortable coming to me with their complaints. So, it has been really hard for me to see my students so unsatisfied, especially in an area that seems so fixable, and feel powerless to help them. Am I powerless, though? Of the four sides, it seems like teachers have the best opportunity to make a difference.
So, to recap.
Year 1: Too overwhelmed to recognize any problems, much less attempt to solve them.
Year 2: Acknowledge legitimate student complaints, verbally guide them toward solutions.
Year 3: ???
In short, my mindset entering the year was to be the catalyst for the students. When I heard/thought "Someone should...", the someone is always going to be me. I was going to help make ALL the "X's" happen.
There are a few reasons I had this mindset. First, no one else came to mind to fill this leadership role (the Myers-Briggs personality test has me pegged as an INTJ (introverted, intuitive, thinking, judging) — one of the major characteristics is being reluctant to lead but capable when necessary. ..(Seriously, skim over that INTJ description and you will understand me so much better)... Secondly, the DO ALL THE THINGS mindset was at least partially leftover from our month-long Europe trip. When you're traveling, you live every day as if you may never come back. Mainly because it's true. That is only sustainable over short periods of time, though. When I look back at Europe, I'm still amazed at how much we fit into every single day. A day in Europe is like 4-5 days of a typical summer schedule, maybe more. Anyway. Finally, this was the first year of teaching that I wasn't going to be coaching a fall sport, so I figured I had some extra time to work with.
Here's the list of extra-curricular accomplishments from the 1st quarter:
-Created a Spartan Twitter account so that game updates could be sent out instantaneously.
-Sent out updates from the Twitter account nearly every day.
-Oversaw an unofficial weekly group of students discussing God and religion.
-Started Four Square Club, which now has 30+ members and weekly "meetings".
-Assigned an economics project to see which section could get the most people to a football game
-Designed/ordered the t-shirts for Homecoming, which had been an area of complaint last year.
-Made the playlist for home football games, and DJ-ed games.
-Put together a weekly Athletic Update sent out to all parents w/ team summaries.
-Started a weekly Ultimate Frisbee game that turned into an Ultimate Frisbee Club.
-Facilitated a game of Senior Assassin which is now running smoothly w/o me.
-Advised students on the best way to get a "Powderpuff" (girls flag) football tourney going.
-Applied to Guinness World Records for a chance to beat Longest Marathon Four Square game (29+ hours).. response pending.
All of this is in addition to attending multiple school athletic events per week, often volunteering, always tweeting updates. Twitter alone has provided a visible boost to school spirit this year so far, in my opinion.
Oh, one example from before this quarter. When I coach Sand Volleyball, we have open practices on Saturdays. Anyone can show up and play, which I like because my girls get to play against guys and beat them. This is doubly worthwhile because it puts the boys in their place and gives the girls training playing against unusually athletic competition. The tradition continued after the season, and there was a whole group who got together and played regularly over the summer.
In a few of those examples, I had significant initiative from students, but I took the step to give them the responsibility. I specifically asked a few students to help design the homecoming shirt, with great results. I helped create the rules for Senior Assassin, which are currently being enforced by an alum.
I abandoned many other aspects of my life in order to accomplish these things, but teaching was not one of those aspects. In the first quarter, I was by far the best-organized and prepared I have been as a teacher so far. I also managed to work out regularly, which I've found vital to maintaining high energy levels from day to day. Beyond that, I didn't have much of a life. Many of my relationships suffered, and my focus on building community amongst the faculty wavered. I was not paid for accomplishing any of those things on the list, which is especially painful considering I actually lost money from not coaching and many of my friends spent the quarter prepping for the GRE. So, was it worth it?
I'd like to think I've had an impact on the students' school experience this year, and I love that I can provide immediate help for the students that I've known for years and care so much about. Without those connections, I certainly wouldn't have considered this project. But, my goal is also far more wide-reaching than just this year. I want those students to get to a point where they don't rely on other people to make things happen. They need to become self-reliant. High school is such a crucial time in realizing this and making the leap to be an initiater. Once that leap happens for them, it will benefit them the rest of their lives. I suspect it comes naturally to me because my own high school provided so few possibilities, and we all had to make our own fun. If our upperclassmen can get over the mental hurdle and begin taking more initiative, the rest of the students will follow their example, and I won't even be necessary. Not only that, but if I can build the framework this year for activities that are repeatable next year, we may even start having a few traditions beyond studying for final exams every semester. Again, the reason I can justify doing all of this volunteer work is because I think the impact will continue beyond this year. Our school has a great curriculum, great teachers, and great families. I'm trying to build a sense of community while correcting the belief that an academically rigorous school cannot be fun. If we can have both strong academics and genuine school spirit, Scottsdale Prep will be unstoppable.
The best example of the full spectrum of change so far is Ultimate Frisbee club. There's a senior who had mentioned the possibility of an Ultimate Frisbee club to me for a couple years. My typical response: "Get it started, and I will gladly be the faculty advisor." Well, one day he brought it up again and I just said: "Name a time and place. Okay. Now tell all your friends." Well, he did, and I told my classes, and that was that. It was huge for him to realize it didn't even have to be a club. They didn't have to jump through tons of official red tape hoops to get together and play frisbee regularly. Since then, the senior has turned it into a real club, contacted another Great Hearts school with a club, and scheduled a game — all without my direct influence or input. The game was played while I was out of town. Scottsdale Prep won.
Monday, September 16, 2013
Via Ferrata: Week 1
Here's my idea. I'm going to write about four of my favorite experiences from the month in Europe last summer. When I sat down to think about it, I wanted five, but only four came to mind immediately, and I'm not going to force it. Besides, we were there for four weeks, so that sounds about right, if I pick one per week (and I did). I'm not going to rank them 1 to 4, because that's not how I look at life. I'm going to cover them in chronological order.
Our group dynamic was a complete mystery going in to the Europe trip. We had Dani and I, who only take breaks from being a model couple when we're not around other people (and even then it's rare :-P); Dani and Christine, whose friendship had been kindled on a Eurotrip the previous summer; Christine and I, a pairing that I was far more comfortable with than Christine was, going in. We're both competitive and stubborn, to similar degrees. Basically, I had to give Christine a money-back guarantee to get her on board: if she didn't enjoy the trip, I'd pay her expenses.
Then there was Mark. Mark is my younger brother by three years, and we've always been different and never been close. I had brown hair/green(ish) eyes, he was blond-haired/blue-eyed. I played mainstream sports, he preferred alternatives. I took piano lessons, he insisted on drums. I got suspended from high school due to a "disagreement" over whether choir should be a required course, he had many solo parts during his time in choir. I had an inexplicable drive to get good grades that he never shared. He likes poetry (even was known to write some) and dated several girls in high school, while I was a multiple choice kinda guy and never chose to have a girlfriend. We also have an oldest sister (Jessica) and a youngest brother (Scott). I could put together a similar paragraph about any two siblings, so don't get the idea that Mark or I are the odd duck.
Mark is a senior in college this year, so I figured it may be one of the last summers we both had time to travel. We've talked about it (backpacking Europe) before, but it never worked out. I got Dani and Christine to accept Mark as our fourth participant by assuring them he was nothing like me.
So. That's the context for the context. Next thing you know we're all in Ireland and committed to spending a month together on a hectic and foreign schedule. The first few days had their rocky points — we all slept through a reserved tour that I had pre-paid for, Dani was sick for a few days, and we came as close as you can get to missing our flight out of Dublin. Stressful.
James Joyce is huge in Dublin, and, in the random near miss of the trip, our schedule had us leaving Dublin the day before Bloomsday, which is a huge celebration in honor of Joyce. Would have been a nice touch. Then, the next day, I left my Digital SLR Canon 40D on the train from Zurich to Interlaken. When we got to Interlake, our hostel was a 30-minute walk from the train station. With 40 lb. backpacks. Cranky.
I'm not saying the first week was a bad experience, but that we were fighting hard to keep from letting the negatives bring us down, and it showed. I still enjoyed that time, despite the difficulties, and I think the others would say the same. It was also never openly acknowledged that we were having more trouble than would be reasonable to expect, but I had a vague feeling that we were a few mishaps away from a breakdown on some level.
Then we got to The Mountain Hostel in Gimmelwald, Switzerland. The place is the ultimate stress reducer. Everything is slow, and beautiful.
Also cows.
One of the best things about being up in the Alps in Switzerland is that there was no pressure to do anything. Most tourists are constantly checking things off a list as they move from place to place, but in this place, just being there is enough. You don't even need to hike, because the view is always there.
We made a few friends of strangers staying at the same hostel, and stayed up with them late into the night looking at the stars in the Alps from the side of a quiet mountain path. The next day they told us about the Via Ferrata.
Via Ferrata means Iron Road. We later learned that the term comes from a time when climbers placed iron spikes in paths up/through the Alps to make the trek easier for soldiers to follow. The originals date back to the World Wars, but I doubt that the local path, from Murren to Gimmelwald, was original.
Our new friends had gotten up early and done the Via Ferrata, getting back around midday raving about the experience. We were won over, and went to the Via Ferrata in the early afternoon. Going there means buying a ticket on the cable car to Murren, which was the next Swiss village up the mountain (5 minutes via cable car and a few thousand feet of elevation), then walking to the Sport Shop on the far side of the village. When we got there, the man behind the counter told us that he had shut down the route for the day, because of high winds. There was apparently a significant chance of getting blown off the side of the Alps. We were disappointed, and more than a little irrationally cocky ("if the wind blows stronger, we'll just hold on tighter"), but we let it go and headed back. We took the path back, which winds along the side of the mountain, going downhill the whole way. Dani and I used the afternoon to buy a ticket up to Mt. Schilthorn, the highest point on our range. This involved a total of four cable car trips...
Ask me if they filmed a Bond movie there. Yes.
The next day was our last full day in the mountains. We were all amped about the Via Ferrata by now, so we woke up and headed over early. The man behind the counter absolutely crushed us by saying the wind was too strong, again. As we hung our heads and left, convinced this was another setback in our early string (we're still under a week into the trip at this point), I asked if we could come back later and see if anything changed. Even asking this was a stretch, because it cost us about $10 for the cable car and over an hour of our day every time we "checked" with him. Thankfully, he was cooperative and gave us a number to call and told me a good time to check in.
In the meantime, we walked back to the hostel. This was our second 40-minute walk on the same trail in less than 24 hours, and if we hadn't been in the Alps, our morale may have suffered. I invented a game where we took turns kicking a rock and trying to keep it on the path. Christine kept ruining it, and it was hilarious. I guess you'd have to be there... We also met some cows, and Dani kept trying, and failing, to pet them. Also funny.
In the end, it was Dani who made the call. I was afraid of annoying the front office people at the hostel by asking to use their phone, but it's hard to say no to Dani. She brings out the best in people.
So, though I'm taking credit for sheer doggedness, Dani also played an important role. The man on the other end of the line told us the route was hike-able!! (possibly just because he could tell how disappointed we were after being denied twice). Side note: what's the difference between being maddeningly stubborn and inspiringly determined? Is is just the final outcome?
We quickly got our stuff together and headed to Murren for the third time. I just had to grab my bandana, because that's what seemed the most rock-climby.
Yes, to this point I haven't even started writing about the actual experience. I told you, this was a top-5 adventure in a month of adventures. It wasn't just the experience itself, it was the timing and adversity involved.
Listen to this. This hike is easily the second-most dangerous I've ever done, and the first was illegal, because of deaths. This hike was legal and a fee was charged, yet, there was exactly zero supervision or training. The man in the store gave us each a harness with two carabiners, and said to always have one clipped to the guiding wire. If we fell, it should catch us "within 5 meters or so". We put them on (Christine was in the bathroom and missed the tutorial). He pointed us to where the trail started. We walked to the edge of the Alps. Just like that, we were completely on our own. We didn't see another soul for the next 3-4 hours.
For the record, I'd describe myself as a surefooted, moderately experienced climber with a manageable fear of heights.
As you can see in the picture, you have the hooks on the wire, and you slide them along as you move. Every few feet you have to unhook them both to get around the hook in the mountain, but you're supposed to do it one at a time, so you're never completely detached.
The next three hours were exhilarating, terrifying, and mesmerizing. Mark led the way, then Christine, Dani, and me — at least at first. Dani has a legitimate fear of heights, and had a point in the first ten minutes where she froze and started swearing (she never swears). That seriously worried me, especially since it came at a point where we were on a ladder she probably could have jumped off and been fine. I suspected the level of difficulty would get much, much worse, but I had no idea just how bad it would be.
The first real test was a 40-yard stretch where we had to move horizontally along a sheer cliff face. Nothing above, nothing below. Those iron rings, by the way, often had some give to them. Not the sort of thing you just jump onto with your whole weight. Everyone got really loud when we saw it this portion coming, then got really quiet until it was over. My journalistic impulses overcame my sheer terror, and I paused here for a few selfies. My palms were sweating, my legs were shaking, and the others had disappeared around the corner of the cliff. I was completely alone, suspended a few thousand feet above a Swiss village. Incredible.
You just have to take one rung at a time. Focus. Step. Focus. Shift hands. Focus. Wipe hands on jorts. Focus. Nothing else matters, and all of your brain's power is working toward a single goal — not dying.
The best word to describe my learning curve is dangerous. I get used to something new, then get bored, then find ways to push the limits. This is how I got a concussion by going off a jump on my second day snowboarding. But, I digress..
Anyway, we're over an hour into the Via Ferrata experience at this point....
The rope bridge was our second real challenge. I'm careful!
Our enormous final obstacle, and there were several notable portions I haven't mentioned, was the suspension bridge. This thing was way too long to trust, and though it appeared sturdy, when you stepped on it, it proved otherwise. Not only that, but the handhold was only on one side, so you felt unbalanced the entire time. Oh, also, you still had to clip and unclip every few feet.
When Dani saw it, she said "I can't do that", and I believed her, because I felt similarly. Even though many parts of the hike were frightening, you were at least up against the mountain the whole time, which was comforting on some level. Besides, I've seen way too many movies where bridges of this sort snap with hapless people trapped between solid ground. The alternative was hiking three hours back the way we came.
We went one at a time.
When Christine stopped in the middle to untangle her clips, leaving herself 100 percent unanchored, we didn't even know what to do. We didn't want to shout at her and startle her, but if a gust of wind had come along at that moment, there was nothing keeping her on that bridge. She made it.
When we all got across the bridge, that was it. We were done. A quick walk back to the hostel to turn in the harnesses, and it was over. I grabbed a mug and walked up the path a little ways, already feeling familiar with this tiny village. There was a hollowed-out log a few hundred feet past the shops, a hollowed-out log which was full of fresh Alpine spring water delivered by a steadily dripping faucet. I sat and filled my mug again and again, as I reflected on what we had just accomplished. I have given up hope that I will ever have a better glass of water.
The Via Ferrata brought us together as a group at a time when we really needed it. We shared so many things over those few short hours: anticipation, fears, concern, awe, adrenaline, wonder, achievement. We forgot everything else, because we didn't need anything else to make that experience perfect. We weren't trying, we were just doing. I will always look back at the Via Ferrata as a defining point in our trip in the best possible way, of special significance because it came so close to not happening.
Our group dynamic was a complete mystery going in to the Europe trip. We had Dani and I, who only take breaks from being a model couple when we're not around other people (and even then it's rare :-P); Dani and Christine, whose friendship had been kindled on a Eurotrip the previous summer; Christine and I, a pairing that I was far more comfortable with than Christine was, going in. We're both competitive and stubborn, to similar degrees. Basically, I had to give Christine a money-back guarantee to get her on board: if she didn't enjoy the trip, I'd pay her expenses.
Then there was Mark. Mark is my younger brother by three years, and we've always been different and never been close. I had brown hair/green(ish) eyes, he was blond-haired/blue-eyed. I played mainstream sports, he preferred alternatives. I took piano lessons, he insisted on drums. I got suspended from high school due to a "disagreement" over whether choir should be a required course, he had many solo parts during his time in choir. I had an inexplicable drive to get good grades that he never shared. He likes poetry (even was known to write some) and dated several girls in high school, while I was a multiple choice kinda guy and never chose to have a girlfriend. We also have an oldest sister (Jessica) and a youngest brother (Scott). I could put together a similar paragraph about any two siblings, so don't get the idea that Mark or I are the odd duck.
Mark is a senior in college this year, so I figured it may be one of the last summers we both had time to travel. We've talked about it (backpacking Europe) before, but it never worked out. I got Dani and Christine to accept Mark as our fourth participant by assuring them he was nothing like me.
So. That's the context for the context. Next thing you know we're all in Ireland and committed to spending a month together on a hectic and foreign schedule. The first few days had their rocky points — we all slept through a reserved tour that I had pre-paid for, Dani was sick for a few days, and we came as close as you can get to missing our flight out of Dublin. Stressful.
James Joyce is huge in Dublin, and, in the random near miss of the trip, our schedule had us leaving Dublin the day before Bloomsday, which is a huge celebration in honor of Joyce. Would have been a nice touch. Then, the next day, I left my Digital SLR Canon 40D on the train from Zurich to Interlaken. When we got to Interlake, our hostel was a 30-minute walk from the train station. With 40 lb. backpacks. Cranky.
I'm not saying the first week was a bad experience, but that we were fighting hard to keep from letting the negatives bring us down, and it showed. I still enjoyed that time, despite the difficulties, and I think the others would say the same. It was also never openly acknowledged that we were having more trouble than would be reasonable to expect, but I had a vague feeling that we were a few mishaps away from a breakdown on some level.
Then we got to The Mountain Hostel in Gimmelwald, Switzerland. The place is the ultimate stress reducer. Everything is slow, and beautiful.
Also cows.
One of the best things about being up in the Alps in Switzerland is that there was no pressure to do anything. Most tourists are constantly checking things off a list as they move from place to place, but in this place, just being there is enough. You don't even need to hike, because the view is always there.
We made a few friends of strangers staying at the same hostel, and stayed up with them late into the night looking at the stars in the Alps from the side of a quiet mountain path. The next day they told us about the Via Ferrata.
Via Ferrata means Iron Road. We later learned that the term comes from a time when climbers placed iron spikes in paths up/through the Alps to make the trek easier for soldiers to follow. The originals date back to the World Wars, but I doubt that the local path, from Murren to Gimmelwald, was original.
Our new friends had gotten up early and done the Via Ferrata, getting back around midday raving about the experience. We were won over, and went to the Via Ferrata in the early afternoon. Going there means buying a ticket on the cable car to Murren, which was the next Swiss village up the mountain (5 minutes via cable car and a few thousand feet of elevation), then walking to the Sport Shop on the far side of the village. When we got there, the man behind the counter told us that he had shut down the route for the day, because of high winds. There was apparently a significant chance of getting blown off the side of the Alps. We were disappointed, and more than a little irrationally cocky ("if the wind blows stronger, we'll just hold on tighter"), but we let it go and headed back. We took the path back, which winds along the side of the mountain, going downhill the whole way. Dani and I used the afternoon to buy a ticket up to Mt. Schilthorn, the highest point on our range. This involved a total of four cable car trips...
The next day was our last full day in the mountains. We were all amped about the Via Ferrata by now, so we woke up and headed over early. The man behind the counter absolutely crushed us by saying the wind was too strong, again. As we hung our heads and left, convinced this was another setback in our early string (we're still under a week into the trip at this point), I asked if we could come back later and see if anything changed. Even asking this was a stretch, because it cost us about $10 for the cable car and over an hour of our day every time we "checked" with him. Thankfully, he was cooperative and gave us a number to call and told me a good time to check in.
In the meantime, we walked back to the hostel. This was our second 40-minute walk on the same trail in less than 24 hours, and if we hadn't been in the Alps, our morale may have suffered. I invented a game where we took turns kicking a rock and trying to keep it on the path. Christine kept ruining it, and it was hilarious. I guess you'd have to be there... We also met some cows, and Dani kept trying, and failing, to pet them. Also funny.
In the end, it was Dani who made the call. I was afraid of annoying the front office people at the hostel by asking to use their phone, but it's hard to say no to Dani. She brings out the best in people.
So, though I'm taking credit for sheer doggedness, Dani also played an important role. The man on the other end of the line told us the route was hike-able!! (possibly just because he could tell how disappointed we were after being denied twice). Side note: what's the difference between being maddeningly stubborn and inspiringly determined? Is is just the final outcome?
We quickly got our stuff together and headed to Murren for the third time. I just had to grab my bandana, because that's what seemed the most rock-climby.
Yes, to this point I haven't even started writing about the actual experience. I told you, this was a top-5 adventure in a month of adventures. It wasn't just the experience itself, it was the timing and adversity involved.
Listen to this. This hike is easily the second-most dangerous I've ever done, and the first was illegal, because of deaths. This hike was legal and a fee was charged, yet, there was exactly zero supervision or training. The man in the store gave us each a harness with two carabiners, and said to always have one clipped to the guiding wire. If we fell, it should catch us "within 5 meters or so". We put them on (Christine was in the bathroom and missed the tutorial). He pointed us to where the trail started. We walked to the edge of the Alps. Just like that, we were completely on our own. We didn't see another soul for the next 3-4 hours.
 |
| This could never happen in today's America. |
As you can see in the picture, you have the hooks on the wire, and you slide them along as you move. Every few feet you have to unhook them both to get around the hook in the mountain, but you're supposed to do it one at a time, so you're never completely detached.
The next three hours were exhilarating, terrifying, and mesmerizing. Mark led the way, then Christine, Dani, and me — at least at first. Dani has a legitimate fear of heights, and had a point in the first ten minutes where she froze and started swearing (she never swears). That seriously worried me, especially since it came at a point where we were on a ladder she probably could have jumped off and been fine. I suspected the level of difficulty would get much, much worse, but I had no idea just how bad it would be.
The first real test was a 40-yard stretch where we had to move horizontally along a sheer cliff face. Nothing above, nothing below. Those iron rings, by the way, often had some give to them. Not the sort of thing you just jump onto with your whole weight. Everyone got really loud when we saw it this portion coming, then got really quiet until it was over. My journalistic impulses overcame my sheer terror, and I paused here for a few selfies. My palms were sweating, my legs were shaking, and the others had disappeared around the corner of the cliff. I was completely alone, suspended a few thousand feet above a Swiss village. Incredible.
You just have to take one rung at a time. Focus. Step. Focus. Shift hands. Focus. Wipe hands on jorts. Focus. Nothing else matters, and all of your brain's power is working toward a single goal — not dying.
The best word to describe my learning curve is dangerous. I get used to something new, then get bored, then find ways to push the limits. This is how I got a concussion by going off a jump on my second day snowboarding. But, I digress..
Anyway, we're over an hour into the Via Ferrata experience at this point....
The rope bridge was our second real challenge. I'm careful!
Our enormous final obstacle, and there were several notable portions I haven't mentioned, was the suspension bridge. This thing was way too long to trust, and though it appeared sturdy, when you stepped on it, it proved otherwise. Not only that, but the handhold was only on one side, so you felt unbalanced the entire time. Oh, also, you still had to clip and unclip every few feet.
When Dani saw it, she said "I can't do that", and I believed her, because I felt similarly. Even though many parts of the hike were frightening, you were at least up against the mountain the whole time, which was comforting on some level. Besides, I've seen way too many movies where bridges of this sort snap with hapless people trapped between solid ground. The alternative was hiking three hours back the way we came.
We went one at a time.
 |
| Photo cred: Dani |
When Christine stopped in the middle to untangle her clips, leaving herself 100 percent unanchored, we didn't even know what to do. We didn't want to shout at her and startle her, but if a gust of wind had come along at that moment, there was nothing keeping her on that bridge. She made it.
When we all got across the bridge, that was it. We were done. A quick walk back to the hostel to turn in the harnesses, and it was over. I grabbed a mug and walked up the path a little ways, already feeling familiar with this tiny village. There was a hollowed-out log a few hundred feet past the shops, a hollowed-out log which was full of fresh Alpine spring water delivered by a steadily dripping faucet. I sat and filled my mug again and again, as I reflected on what we had just accomplished. I have given up hope that I will ever have a better glass of water.
The Via Ferrata brought us together as a group at a time when we really needed it. We shared so many things over those few short hours: anticipation, fears, concern, awe, adrenaline, wonder, achievement. We forgot everything else, because we didn't need anything else to make that experience perfect. We weren't trying, we were just doing. I will always look back at the Via Ferrata as a defining point in our trip in the best possible way, of special significance because it came so close to not happening.
Saturday, May 25, 2013
My review of The Great Gatsby
Ralph Waldo Emerson has an essay entitled "Self Reliance". I read it for the first time somewhat recently, and liked it so much that I gave it to all my economics students as a parting reading. You should read it (21 pages).
Though I'm tempted to point out the irony of Emerson traveling the country and lecturing captivated crowds to rely on themselves and not listen to anyone else, I will.
His essay actually provides an excellent context for me to explain one of my rarely explained and oft misunderstood approaches to the world: my complete disregard for movie reviews. I don't have much respect or tolerance for movie critics, irregardless of whether their critique is positive or negative.
The release of The Great Gatsby two weeks ago was a pretty big deal in my circles. How bout yours? That just made me realize something...my "circles" are basically teachers and students. Who am I?
What's the big deal with movie trailers, anyway? I have so many friends who hunt down every trailer for new movies. What's the point?
My approach is the opposite. I'd rather not know what's going to happen before I see it. Once you know you want to see a movie, why do anything more than wait?
I don't go to the theaters often. When I do, it's usually to see something I've been wanting to see for a while. My last several movies minus Gatsby were..., Perks of Being a Wallflower, Start Trek: Into Darkness, Silver Linings Playbook, The Hobbit, Skyfall, in order of enjoyment. I didn't hate any of them.
Maybe it's just a self-control thing. Some people deal with the difficulty of waiting for something they want by consuming all the information they can find as soon as they can find it. I learned early on that comedies often use their best jokes in their trailers, and trailers even depict scenes pretty regularly that don't even make the final cut. Spending an entire movie anticipating certain jokes, memorable one-liners and particular scenes happening, especially when some of the ones you were expecting never happen, is not my idea of a good time.
I suppose self control is a part of self reliance, but the more obvious connection is still coming.
I make a point not to read reviews before I go see a movie.
WHY DO PEOPLE DO THAT.
If you want to see Movie X, see it. If you don't, don't. What I don't want to hear is you second-guessing yourself because of some random critic who typed up their intentionally reactionary reaction. I mean, I might understand if you're trying to find a good movie, or choosing between several options. But even then, I would advise looking at the overall rating and not the details. Extreme claims get attention, but if you take the average review, the law of large numbers says it will be closer to the truth. Nevertheless, I would never read a review of a movie I know I'm definitely going to see. It's worse than a waste of time.
If I know anything about the human mind, I know if I tell you something specific I liked or disliked about a movie before you go see it, it will affect your experience.
"Man, Bane's voice was really over-the-top ridiculous. Almost as ridiculous as Batman using that absurdly gravelly voice way beyond the point when EVERYONE KNOWS BATMAN IS BRUCE WAYNE."
How does that comment not affect your experience of Dark Knight Rises? It's basically a filter that you are now forced to watch the movie through. Coming out of the movie, your opinion will either agree with or reject mine.
It's kinda like this sign.
Because I put this in your field of vision, now you either have the urge to touch the sign (which you wouldn't have if I didn't show it to you), or you intentionally decide not to touch the sign (which you wouldn't have if I didn't show it to you). My action forced your reaction.
Reading a review is the same. Most times it's unavoidable, so why not avoid it when we have the option?
On a related note, The Great Gatsby had a 48% on Rotten Tomatoes the weekend of its release. That is silly. I have a theory to explain it.
I just finished reading The Phantom Tollbooth — a text our kids read in fifth grade. It was recommended to me, and I liked it (didn't read any reviews beforehand, though). Consider this quote:
"My goodness," thought Milo, "everybody is so terribly sensitive about the things they know best."
That sums it up, doesn't it? Why books turned to movies generally don't do well, with Gatsby being the most recent example. Those are the only instances where a large percentage of the audience (and EVERY critic) comes in with a set opinion and expectations already formed. Everyone who has read the book considers themselves a legitimate critic, and has the confidence to follow through with criticism. If we don't have an opinion/expectation coming in, we are far less likely to come out with a negative opinion.
And the "real" critics! These people's horses could not be higher. If the movie adaption doesn't match their particular interpretation, they initiate lambasting. The problem is, the appeal of quality novels is their openness. You can't make a successful (mainstream) movie as ambiguous and open to interpretation as the original book; you just can't (especially if the primary plot mover is internalized). And Baz Luhrmann was certainly attempting to make a mainstream movie. If fact, if you watch his interview on the Colbert Report, you'll see how proud he is that The Great Gatsby sold more copies in the week before the movie opening than sold in Fitzgerald's ENTIRE LIFE. Sure, it's not the ideal adaption, but it created a world where more people read F. Scott Fitzgerald, and that is better than it not happening.
By the way, if you don't have strong feelings about Carey Mulligan, you might after watching this clip.
I'm not saying I totally disregard movie reviews, I just refuse to "like" or "not like" something because some stranger told me to. Once I've seen the movie and decided what I think, I'll read a few reviews. My goal is to see how closely my opinion lines up with the critics. They often have insight that I find useful, and observations I hadn't considered before. And so, over time, my initial impression becomes more and more informed, balanced and, well, good.
But I'm not about to burden you with my actual review.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Save / Invest
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Dear mom,
This entry is dedicated to you. You gave up your veterinary practice to homeschool me for my first 13 years. You taught me how to read, and you taught me how to think for myself. In addition to everything else, you're probably the only person who reads all of my blog posts. Thanks.
Love,
Nathan
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I recently finished teaching a week of Game Theory in my economics class. Game is my favorite type of theory, and economics is my favorite type of class. When I gave them the test, I added a little section at the end which I called a "Bonus". It was a bonus, but it was also a game theory experiment, a mind game, and the outcome in an indicator of how much faith we should have in humanity. Here it is:
BONUS
1.
You have a free bonus point right here in your grasp (+1). You can choose to keep
it, or invest it. If 85% or more of the
class invests, each investor will gain an additional bonus point. If less than 85% invests, each investor will
lose their bonus point. If you save it,
it’s guaranteed. Circle one.
SAVE INVEST
Now, what is the most desirable outcome of this game? Let's break it down. It's simple.
Everyone Else (>85%)
Save Invest
Save 1, 1 1, 2
You
Invest 0, 1 2, 2
The point value before the comma is what "You" get, the one after is what "Everyone Else" gets. Is there any additional information you need? It IS important to know that my class isn't graded on a curve. It can't help your grade to hurt someone else's, and theoretically everyone could finish with A's. Another way of looking at it is that all the students are competing against me (no curve), as opposed to each other (curve).
Given a non-competitive environment, what is the best decision? Keep in mind that these are students who probably have a better understanding of cost/benefit than the typical high school sophomore. The best outcome is clearly that everyone invest. When I say clearly, I mean it's as clear as the answer to "Would you rather have one bonus point, or two? No, this isn't a trick question."
The students had a tad more information than you do. They knew how many of the fellow game-players had to invest for them to gain that extra extra point (and when I say they "knew", I mean they had access to that information). For both of my sections of 16 students, the magic number was two. They could have up to two people save, and the rest of the 14 would still be safe to invest. If three or more saved, the investors would lose their investment. They also knew the characters/personality of other players in this "game", which could turn out to be a positive or a negative, depending on the other players.
To review. Asking what outcome is best is the same as asking which outcome results in the highest total of bonus points. Well, "all invest" equals 32 total bonus points, "all save" equals 16 bonus points, and the worst-case scenario? Three save, 13 invest. THAT results in three total bonus points. So we could end up anywhere from 3 to 32 bonus points.
With me so far?
Great! I trusted you, really. It's all those other people I question sometimes.
Last week I did a week on business cycle theory, focusing almost exclusively on the Frederich Hayek vs. John Maynard Keynes debate. small government vs. big government. lasseiz faire vs. interventionism. intentional saving vs. intentional deficits. solve the boom vs. solve the bust. human action vs. central planning.
They are opposite in every conceivable way, yet they both make convincing arguments. Okay so "opposite" is a slight exaggeration, since Keynes is more towards the center of the big picture spectrum (flanked by Marx on the left and libertarians/anarcho-capitalists on the right). Here is my off-the-cuff summary...
Hayek says if we allowed individuals to make their own decisions without interfering with their incentives, we would arrive at the best outcome (though he admits there will be less-than-optimal outcomes along the way). Interference in the market results in false signals, false signals result in malinvestment, and malinvestment can lead to booms (unsustainably "strong" economies). Booms eventually lead to busts.
Keynes says we can't trust individuals to make decisions which are best for them in the long run. He says the fluctuation in the stock markets are based on random & unpredictable elements of the human psyche, calling these irrational impulses "animal spirits". Since we can't predict them, the best solution is to minimize the busts once they happen. When people notice the economy is slowing/crashing, they become conservative and hoard their money. This over-saving leads to an even slower economy, leading to more saving, leading to... he calls this the Paradox of Thrift. The solution, then, is to replace the lost consumer spending with government spending. The gov't can provide jobs and stimulate the market, at least until the economy is strong again.
Is it funny that I'm concerned that one summary is noticeably longer/more complicated than the other? Because of Occam's Razor. It's concerning to me. I'm trying to avoid bias.
Their debate is articulately and succinctly stated in this unbiased video. It's 8 minutes. You don't have to watch it.
When it comes down to it, Hayek has faith in individuals, and Keynes does not. Keynes thinks he needs to make decisions FOR normal (irrational) people.
Are you wondering why this post thus far has been on two completely separate topics?
Are you wondering how many students saved and how many invested?
Are you wondering who is right?
Where to begin..
The answer is 8. Eight students invested, and eight saved. In both sections!
So both sections received a total of eight bonus points (eight got one, eight lost one), approximately 24 points less than the optimal-and-completely-attainable outcome of 32.
What conclusion can we draw from this? As the teacher/dictator, where is the teachable moment?
Well, the students failed to arrive at the best outcome under their own power. Simply put, Keynes won round one. I could "guarantee" a better solution by taking away their freedom to make the choice at all. And it's in my power to do so. Why not?
As we discussed in class later, what's the difference between this situation and, say, passing a law requiring everyone to wear a seat belt? Or, making smoking illegal. Orrr... even more literal, imagine this. Since, upon retirement, a majority of people wish they had accumulated more money, and, even knowing this, younger people (such as myself) STILL don't put enough way, shouldn't the government force us to do what's best for us in the long run, and divert a percentage of money from our incomes into saving? If the decision is Spend All / Save Some, and the best long run outcome is "Save Some", should we even be left with a choice? Sound familiar?
Maybe you're still wondering why anyone would choose to save in MY little game. It comes down to a few things. First, it matters how you think about the bonus point. Some people think of it as potentially avoiding losing a point when they save. The other type of person thinks of it as potentially gaining a point when they invest. The first type will tend to be conservative, the second embraces risk. The decision they make in this game would be a somewhat reliable indicator for how risky they are in general (and when I say "somewhat reliable", I mean I would love to track them for the rest of their lives and see what decisions they make and how they turn out). It's very difficult for each type of person to see from the other's perspective, as they realized during discussion. Many people strongly prefer avoiding losses to acquiring gains. It's called Loss Aversion and I'll tell you more about it later.
The thought process the savers described in class was fascinating. "I was afraid that too many people would save, so I saved." Translated, "I was afraid that other people would make the worst decision, so I made the worst decision." They became what they were afraid of, because of their fear. This lines up perfectly with Keynes theory; he said that uncertainty leads to underinvestment.
I wasn't finished with the game yet, though. After we discussed it, I had to try it again. I'm more than a little obsessed, if you can't tell. One thing that adds another angle is the concept of a Nash Equilibrium. In a multi-player "game", a Nash Equilibrium is a stable outcome where you know the payoffs of the other players, and there is no benefit to any one player changing their strategy. This game has two Nash Equilibrium points. If everyone saves, no one player can benefit by switching to invest. Similarly, if everyone invests, no one player can benefit from switching to save. Because either extreme is a stable state, once the players shift in one direction, that shift becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. For example, if the second time 6 invested and 10 saved, the shifts in strategy would most likely continue until all 16 saved. And, once all 16 saved, it would take something special for them to break out of that cycle. The opposite is true as well.
Thankfully, both sections moved to the better end of the spectrum. Presented with the same problem, one section had all 16 invest, and the other had 14.
Hayek wins round two.
The only difference between round one and round two was education. This is a hopeful solution in my opinion, because it's attainable. Education can be fixed; we are fixing education. Though the government (me, in this case) theoretically has the power to coerce people into choosing "correctly", I could never side with Keynes and endorse an increase in government power. Everything I've seen, learned, and experienced has reinforced the idea that power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. When you give someone power over you, you are also giving them an opportunity to abuse it. So, given the choice between taking away freedom or adding education, I'd rather add education.
*Update*
I added this game to the end of my 8th graders' final. It was the most straightfoward test I gave all year, with the exception of this little mind game.
In one section, they had 5 invest and 17 save.
In the other, 12 invested and 8 saved.
I had predicted the second section would have a higher rate of investment, but I didn't really have a good reason until after the results were in. Wanna know the reason?
This game is a fascinatingly reliable indicator of how much trust exists in a particular environment. If you trust your classmates, you are more likely to invest. If you don't trust your peers, you will save. This theory is backed up by the fact that the chemistry in the second section is much better than the first. I predict that this game could predict the degree to which participants in a particular environment trust and respect their "teammates".
*Update*
I added this game to the end of my 8th graders' final. It was the most straightfoward test I gave all year, with the exception of this little mind game.
In one section, they had 5 invest and 17 save.
In the other, 12 invested and 8 saved.
I had predicted the second section would have a higher rate of investment, but I didn't really have a good reason until after the results were in. Wanna know the reason?
This game is a fascinatingly reliable indicator of how much trust exists in a particular environment. If you trust your classmates, you are more likely to invest. If you don't trust your peers, you will save. This theory is backed up by the fact that the chemistry in the second section is much better than the first. I predict that this game could predict the degree to which participants in a particular environment trust and respect their "teammates".
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Sports, man, ship.
This is intended to be a rant that I often start and rarely get to finish. In fact, I may have never gotten my point across. Hence, the writing.
Let's start with a moving picture show! You like moving picture shows, verdad?
Here is the set-up. There is a organization that publishes commercials promoting various values. Values.com. If you go to the website, this is the intro to the clip promoting "sportsmanship":
"When the game is on the line we find out what kind of character we really have. In the heat of a championship basketball game a young man makes a decision that affects his entire team."
Link to "Sportmanship" spot click on this now after reading that up there.
Heart-warming. The comments beneath the video say as much.
"Still one of your greatest spots! What a powerful message for our troubled youth! This should be shown in every school in America! Gripping!"
-jhon from California
"While watching this video, my mind has been opened up to the concept of sportsmanship. I can't help but to tear up in this. Thank you for such an inspirational, thought out video." *
—Cc from USA
...
...
...
I hate it.
Have you watched it yet? You really need to watch it before you read on.
Growing up, I don't think my mother was ever within sight/earshot of a TV commercial without making a disparaging comment and walking off disgustedly. Maybe that skepticism rubbed off, because one thing I've noticed about my friend group is a habit of picking apart every advertisement thrown our way. This is different, though. I want this commercial (and Values.com) to be well-received, and I think they are shooting themselves in the thigh. So, it's a frustrated sort of hatred.
http://www.values.com/inspirational-stories-tv-spots/106-Basketball
Is now a good time for this picture?
Again, this is the type of statement where people don't really wait for an explanation before they condemn you. I do pick my shirt statements carefully, nevertheless, and I think my teammanship record is defensible, so I was okay with getting judged for this shirt (at the time). I wouldn't wear it now. Speaking of which, I saw a shirt at the Nike outlet yesterday which read... well... THIS....."The Perfect Role Model."
Does Nike realize how hilarious it is that if you wanted to eliminate potential role models by sight alone, you could start with anyone wearing that shirt? I suspect they do, but they know it will sell. Or maybe the masses' idea of a role model is extraordinarily different than my own.
I would wear it, but I wouldn't anyone expect anyone to slow down and listen to why it's okay to wear it because of the beautiful, "perfect" irony. "No, see, I'm perfect because I recognize I'm not perfect!" If a kid recognizes that as a desirable trait in a role model, he doesn't need a role model. I'll stop there.
On a similar note, I have a shirt that reads "LEGEND" across the back. It was a gift from a girls IM flag football team I coached at Hillsdale, and I truly, genuinely appreciate it. It also makes me look like a d-bag when I wear it.
Where was I going with this? Uhhm, so I was hating on sportsmanship which led to hating on Nike which led to...LEGEND. The point is, don't make up your mind before you hear my explanation!
Back on track.
I hate that commercial. Here's why.
1) It completely misunderstands the roles of players and referees.
2) It wouldn't happen in real life.
One. Referees are trained and paid to officiate games so they can enforce the rules as accurately and unbiased-ly as humanly possible. Their purpose is rule-enforcement. They don't care whether players break rules on purpose or by accident, they enforce the same either way.
On the other side, the players train and participate so they can win the competition. Their strategies are centered around the rules and their strategies assume the rules are enforced accurately.
The roles are clearly defined. Referees don't play, and players don't referee. Just to project this point out logically, a player making the deciding call on a out-of-bounds ball could be compared to a referee purposefully physically interfering with live play. You can't even imagine what that would look like. Maybe this will help..
See?! Weird.
Two. A ref would never change his call based on what a player told him. Think about it. Referees severely disapprove of players making calls, even calls that agree with them. When I played, I would get in trouble for making the traveling sign after a player obviously traveled and the referee is simultaneously making the traveling call. I would be agreeing with the call, and I would still get reprimanded. They cannot allow the idea they are agreeing with a player's opinion, because it would totally undermine their respectability. Ask any ref what they do if they don't know who the ball touched last. In that situation, it's better to make a demonstrative call either way than show a sign of uncertainty. They would never ask a player (or coach or fan or anyone), irregardless of that player's honesty or sportsmanship.
So, the commercial.
The ball goes out of bounds in a close game with seconds left. The ref makes the call. Maybe he's wrong. As far as the players go, it doesn't matter. That's a risk you take when you allow rules to be enforced by flawed, imperfect humans. Theoretically, players and fans should understand that, coming in. Theoretically. Maybe someone should remind them... It's often referred to as the "human element" by announcers discussing blown calls. People make mistakes. Referees are no different. Just as players gain credibility by winning, referees gain credibility by making correct calls. If you consistently make bad calls, you aren't going to last very long as a referee. Maybe you ruin a few games before you figure it out, but you certainly won't be reffing any important games if you have a questionable record.
I've been a referee. It's one of the occupations that come to mind as being MORE thankless than teaching. It's awful. Every person watching thinks they are better than you, and with every call you anger half the audience. Zero sympathy, ever. You couldn't pay me enou— no, I have a price. I could be Dick Bevetta.
Anyway, the "human element" is slowly being phased out of competition at the highest levels. We have all sorts of replay technology, and it's being used more and more often. I have mixed feelings, but it'll be a long time before that technology is utilized at more than a tiny percentage of overall competitions. I'll move on.
Not that I'm cynical, but that referee at the end who (theoretically) changes the call would probably assume the player is trying to point-shave or throw the game purposefully before he would assume the player is showing "good sportsmanship". Either way, no way he changes the call.
Quick anecdote.
My sophomore year of high school basketball had some of the best memories. One memory in particular applies. We were down four points to a rival at home with a minute or so left. I had taken a three on our earlier possession, and thought I was fouled. It wasn't called, and I, being a sophomore, dissolved into a sophomoric mess. The opposing team had grabbed the rebound, then missed two free throws. Our stud senior point guard, Caleb Wood, drove down the court and forced a three-pointer with 8.5 seconds left. He hadn't made one all year (am I wrong, Caleb?). He was fouled. It was called. And yes, you can be a stud point guard without a decent three-point shot. That's why he made all three free throws! Eight seconds left, and they are inbounding the ball. We, naturally, are pressuring the inbounds pass, hoping for a steal or a quick foul. The inbounder waits, looks, then launches a pass to my side of the court, near the intersection of half court and out of bounds on the (my) left. I read his eyes, took a step, leaped, and quickly and athletically determined that it was going over my head. I turned in the air to see Caleb streaking across my field of vision and knocking the pass down. Stud. He gained possession and planted his outside foot inches from the out-of-bounds line to halt his significant momentum. I can still see his sneakers, the brief window of inbound hardwood, and the black line. Oh, and his horrendous, home-schooled socks. Then, his planted food slid. It slid over the line and several inches beyond. I froze, my mind stuck between elation (steal!) and remorse (aw, shucks, we would have a chance to win this game if only Caleb's shoe had slightly better traction). Caleb started dribbling. I remained frozen. I looked to the ref for the whistle. Nothing. Surely. They. He. But. How? The ref hadn't seen it.
In the video, Caleb starts dribbling toward me, and I can't move. It's funny. He literally has to yell at me and gesture to get out of his way. I look broken. He dribbles around me to the right side of the court, down to the baseline, down the baseline, and takes a running floater over two players as the buzzer sounds. It drops in, and that moment is preserved forever as the loudest I will ever hear a crowd cheer for a team of which I am a part. It was a roar. Not everyone gets to hear a roar. I couldn't appreciate it, though, because I'm still standing where I was, broken. I had even forgotten the score, and thought we were going into overtime. We had won, though, as Caleb scored 5 unanswered points in 8.5 seconds.
Now. Where does sportsmanship play into that experience? Caleb didn't know he had gone out, but what if he had? Should he have made the call for the refs? Should I? I say no. There are a plethora of ways to exhibit good sportsmanship, and none of them involve players doing the referees' job.
I stumbled across a quote somewhat recently which summarizes this dilemma and makes me think of Caleb every time I hear it.
“The man who wins may have been counted out several times, but he didn’t hear the referee." H.E. Jansen
I don't know who this guy is, and neither does the internet. I suppose I should take it as my own.
Ever-qualifying, I will add that these thoughts don't apply to self-refereed competitions. There, you make your own calls, and sportsmanship is a crucial variable in that process.
Values.com is trying to do a good thing, and does that thing with some degree of effectiveness. I hate the idea that they could have the initiative and resources to complete such a project, then screw it up in the delivery. How they deliver this particular message inhibits their potential effectiveness, in my opinion. Their target audience (young athletes) is the group most likely to be as skeptical as I am. If the marketer doesn't "get" how sports work, the value is lost. Everyone who understands basketball is distracted by the lack of realism and, as a result, can't focus on the point. That's all that I'm saying. I'm tempted to segue into a rant about Zac Effron's basketball scene in High School Musical, but that's neither here nor there.
If you feel like reading another argument against something most people wouldn't dare to question, check out THIS article. It argues a "Christian" genre of music shouldn't exist, and does a swell job. Tough sell, bro.
5 Reasons to Kill Christian Music
*What are the odds this comment was posted by an employee of Values.com? Is there a value that applies to spamming your own content with homer comments? It definitely says something about Values.com marketers or its fan-base. It's just so positive! And sweepingly specific! Even the grammar is solid, minus one missing hyphen, and those confuse everyone.**
**This footnote was influenced by The Sports Guy.
Let's start with a moving picture show! You like moving picture shows, verdad?
Here is the set-up. There is a organization that publishes commercials promoting various values. Values.com. If you go to the website, this is the intro to the clip promoting "sportsmanship":
"When the game is on the line we find out what kind of character we really have. In the heat of a championship basketball game a young man makes a decision that affects his entire team."
Link to "Sportmanship" spot click on this now after reading that up there.
Heart-warming. The comments beneath the video say as much.
"Still one of your greatest spots! What a powerful message for our troubled youth! This should be shown in every school in America! Gripping!"
-jhon from California
"While watching this video, my mind has been opened up to the concept of sportsmanship. I can't help but to tear up in this. Thank you for such an inspirational, thought out video." *
—Cc from USA
...
...
...
I hate it.
Have you watched it yet? You really need to watch it before you read on.
Growing up, I don't think my mother was ever within sight/earshot of a TV commercial without making a disparaging comment and walking off disgustedly. Maybe that skepticism rubbed off, because one thing I've noticed about my friend group is a habit of picking apart every advertisement thrown our way. This is different, though. I want this commercial (and Values.com) to be well-received, and I think they are shooting themselves in the thigh. So, it's a frustrated sort of hatred.
http://www.values.com/inspirational-stories-tv-spots/106-Basketball
Is now a good time for this picture?
 |
| I love making things difficult for myself. |
Does Nike realize how hilarious it is that if you wanted to eliminate potential role models by sight alone, you could start with anyone wearing that shirt? I suspect they do, but they know it will sell. Or maybe the masses' idea of a role model is extraordinarily different than my own.
I would wear it, but I wouldn't anyone expect anyone to slow down and listen to why it's okay to wear it because of the beautiful, "perfect" irony. "No, see, I'm perfect because I recognize I'm not perfect!" If a kid recognizes that as a desirable trait in a role model, he doesn't need a role model. I'll stop there.
On a similar note, I have a shirt that reads "LEGEND" across the back. It was a gift from a girls IM flag football team I coached at Hillsdale, and I truly, genuinely appreciate it. It also makes me look like a d-bag when I wear it.
Where was I going with this? Uhhm, so I was hating on sportsmanship which led to hating on Nike which led to...LEGEND. The point is, don't make up your mind before you hear my explanation!
Back on track.
I hate that commercial. Here's why.
1) It completely misunderstands the roles of players and referees.
2) It wouldn't happen in real life.
One. Referees are trained and paid to officiate games so they can enforce the rules as accurately and unbiased-ly as humanly possible. Their purpose is rule-enforcement. They don't care whether players break rules on purpose or by accident, they enforce the same either way.
On the other side, the players train and participate so they can win the competition. Their strategies are centered around the rules and their strategies assume the rules are enforced accurately.
The roles are clearly defined. Referees don't play, and players don't referee. Just to project this point out logically, a player making the deciding call on a out-of-bounds ball could be compared to a referee purposefully physically interfering with live play. You can't even imagine what that would look like. Maybe this will help..
See?! Weird.
Two. A ref would never change his call based on what a player told him. Think about it. Referees severely disapprove of players making calls, even calls that agree with them. When I played, I would get in trouble for making the traveling sign after a player obviously traveled and the referee is simultaneously making the traveling call. I would be agreeing with the call, and I would still get reprimanded. They cannot allow the idea they are agreeing with a player's opinion, because it would totally undermine their respectability. Ask any ref what they do if they don't know who the ball touched last. In that situation, it's better to make a demonstrative call either way than show a sign of uncertainty. They would never ask a player (or coach or fan or anyone), irregardless of that player's honesty or sportsmanship.
So, the commercial.
The ball goes out of bounds in a close game with seconds left. The ref makes the call. Maybe he's wrong. As far as the players go, it doesn't matter. That's a risk you take when you allow rules to be enforced by flawed, imperfect humans. Theoretically, players and fans should understand that, coming in. Theoretically. Maybe someone should remind them... It's often referred to as the "human element" by announcers discussing blown calls. People make mistakes. Referees are no different. Just as players gain credibility by winning, referees gain credibility by making correct calls. If you consistently make bad calls, you aren't going to last very long as a referee. Maybe you ruin a few games before you figure it out, but you certainly won't be reffing any important games if you have a questionable record.
I've been a referee. It's one of the occupations that come to mind as being MORE thankless than teaching. It's awful. Every person watching thinks they are better than you, and with every call you anger half the audience. Zero sympathy, ever. You couldn't pay me enou— no, I have a price. I could be Dick Bevetta.
Anyway, the "human element" is slowly being phased out of competition at the highest levels. We have all sorts of replay technology, and it's being used more and more often. I have mixed feelings, but it'll be a long time before that technology is utilized at more than a tiny percentage of overall competitions. I'll move on.
Not that I'm cynical, but that referee at the end who (theoretically) changes the call would probably assume the player is trying to point-shave or throw the game purposefully before he would assume the player is showing "good sportsmanship". Either way, no way he changes the call.
Quick anecdote.
My sophomore year of high school basketball had some of the best memories. One memory in particular applies. We were down four points to a rival at home with a minute or so left. I had taken a three on our earlier possession, and thought I was fouled. It wasn't called, and I, being a sophomore, dissolved into a sophomoric mess. The opposing team had grabbed the rebound, then missed two free throws. Our stud senior point guard, Caleb Wood, drove down the court and forced a three-pointer with 8.5 seconds left. He hadn't made one all year (am I wrong, Caleb?). He was fouled. It was called. And yes, you can be a stud point guard without a decent three-point shot. That's why he made all three free throws! Eight seconds left, and they are inbounding the ball. We, naturally, are pressuring the inbounds pass, hoping for a steal or a quick foul. The inbounder waits, looks, then launches a pass to my side of the court, near the intersection of half court and out of bounds on the (my) left. I read his eyes, took a step, leaped, and quickly and athletically determined that it was going over my head. I turned in the air to see Caleb streaking across my field of vision and knocking the pass down. Stud. He gained possession and planted his outside foot inches from the out-of-bounds line to halt his significant momentum. I can still see his sneakers, the brief window of inbound hardwood, and the black line. Oh, and his horrendous, home-schooled socks. Then, his planted food slid. It slid over the line and several inches beyond. I froze, my mind stuck between elation (steal!) and remorse (aw, shucks, we would have a chance to win this game if only Caleb's shoe had slightly better traction). Caleb started dribbling. I remained frozen. I looked to the ref for the whistle. Nothing. Surely. They. He. But. How? The ref hadn't seen it.
In the video, Caleb starts dribbling toward me, and I can't move. It's funny. He literally has to yell at me and gesture to get out of his way. I look broken. He dribbles around me to the right side of the court, down to the baseline, down the baseline, and takes a running floater over two players as the buzzer sounds. It drops in, and that moment is preserved forever as the loudest I will ever hear a crowd cheer for a team of which I am a part. It was a roar. Not everyone gets to hear a roar. I couldn't appreciate it, though, because I'm still standing where I was, broken. I had even forgotten the score, and thought we were going into overtime. We had won, though, as Caleb scored 5 unanswered points in 8.5 seconds.
Now. Where does sportsmanship play into that experience? Caleb didn't know he had gone out, but what if he had? Should he have made the call for the refs? Should I? I say no. There are a plethora of ways to exhibit good sportsmanship, and none of them involve players doing the referees' job.
I stumbled across a quote somewhat recently which summarizes this dilemma and makes me think of Caleb every time I hear it.
“The man who wins may have been counted out several times, but he didn’t hear the referee." H.E. Jansen
I don't know who this guy is, and neither does the internet. I suppose I should take it as my own.
Ever-qualifying, I will add that these thoughts don't apply to self-refereed competitions. There, you make your own calls, and sportsmanship is a crucial variable in that process.
Values.com is trying to do a good thing, and does that thing with some degree of effectiveness. I hate the idea that they could have the initiative and resources to complete such a project, then screw it up in the delivery. How they deliver this particular message inhibits their potential effectiveness, in my opinion. Their target audience (young athletes) is the group most likely to be as skeptical as I am. If the marketer doesn't "get" how sports work, the value is lost. Everyone who understands basketball is distracted by the lack of realism and, as a result, can't focus on the point. That's all that I'm saying. I'm tempted to segue into a rant about Zac Effron's basketball scene in High School Musical, but that's neither here nor there.
If you feel like reading another argument against something most people wouldn't dare to question, check out THIS article. It argues a "Christian" genre of music shouldn't exist, and does a swell job. Tough sell, bro.
5 Reasons to Kill Christian Music
*What are the odds this comment was posted by an employee of Values.com? Is there a value that applies to spamming your own content with homer comments? It definitely says something about Values.com marketers or its fan-base. It's just so positive! And sweepingly specific! Even the grammar is solid, minus one missing hyphen, and those confuse everyone.**
**This footnote was influenced by The Sports Guy.
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