A Story and an Oath

The last few weeks of 2012 have been truly fulfilling. Since school ended I've been traveling, introspecting, and growing a beard: a holiday to counter-balance what was an eventful, facial-hair-less year.

2012 was full of self-realization for me. I experienced many growth spurts, with many associated growing pains. I also enjoyed a wealth of opportunity and wonderment.

One of the most significant moments of wonder happened just a few weeks ago, at about 5AM GMT on the 18th of December.

The story begins when Joel, my visiting Canadian friend, and I were planning our travels along the coast of Ghana. We wanted to stay in the small town of Beyin near the border of Cote D'Ivoire, so that we could travel via canoe to Nzulezu, the village on the water.

We were considering staying at the Beyin Beach Resort, which we had read about online a few days prior. A quick consultation with my Lonely Planet easily convinced us that the BBR was the spot for us: “...owners can help you arrange trips to Nzulezu, as well as night hikes to look for turtles.”

That's right. Moonlit walks on the beach with the owner of the resort, looking for nesting sea turtles. From August to March there are frequent sightings of Green, Olive Green Ridley, and Leatherback turtles. They glide onto the shores of West Africa to lay clutches of eggs in the warm sand. After 45-75 days, the hatchlings climb out of their beach nests and, following their instinct to move toward the brightest light, they hobble a strenuous hike to the bright, open horizon. If they are lucky they get swept away by the tide before predators (including humans) notice them. It is a fascinating practice of regeneration.

It's worth noting that of the seven species of sea turtle, six of them are currently endangered. They are becoming rarer and rarer due to their vulnerable birthing process and careless fishing practices. There's something deeply saddening about our human involvement in this family's destruction.

Those who know me will admit that I have been fascinated by turtles my whole life, beginning with my foray into the martial arts via the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles at the age of four. Joel seemed to share my interest, and we became excited- nay, we were ecstatic in the possibility of seeing a rare turtle in the wild. 

"We might be disappointed," Joel tempered our excitability with reason. "How do we know it's turtle season?" 

"Of course it's the season... Turtles at Christmas! They are a perfect match!" I was alluding to the chocolates that are popular in Canada at this time of year, trying to point you a funny coincidence. "You know that song?"

"Oh sure," Joel said, playing along without really knowing what I was talking about. "How could I forget THAT one?"

And without skipping a beat, he burst into song! Not the song I was thinking about, but an improvised two-minute ballad about Turtles and Christmas. It was hilarious and we laughed all the way to sleep. We were all hopped up on the giddy-gas of turtle prospecting, and visions of leatherbacks danced in our dreams.

--

We set out early the following morning. After about 5 hours of tro-tro travel we arrived at our lodgings with a great sigh of relief. We managed to have a tour of the stilted village that afternoon, returned to the resort for an ocean swim, and by dinner-time it was clear that we were the only guests of the BBR. As the night crept in we re-focused our energy on our newfound purpose of turtle-spotting. We approached Gifty, our host, about the legendary night walks on the beach.

"Actually, the owner hasn't done turtle walks this year." she told us gravely. 

I sighed. "Shoot. Is it possible that we could still see a turtle on our own?"

"Of course," she giggled, "but I don't know if you'll find one." The owner of the resort walked by just as she finished saying this. She called him over. "Patrick, these men are interested in seeing a turtle."

Patrick lamented that he was no longer doing turtle walks because it was so tiring, and the sleep was so irregular. He advised us to take a walk along the beach between 10pm and 2am, and at this time of year there we had perhaps a 45% chance of seeing a turtle. Those were best odds for seeing a sea turtle in the wild that I've ever had! Patrick had renewed a sense of hope within us.

At 10pm promptly Joel and I set out along the moonlit beach. The stars were uncountable, and if you stared long enough into the darkness a new star would appear from the abyss. The sound of the ocean eased life's rhythm, and I felt myself dissolve into the universe a bit. It is a great privilege to experience such raw natural beauty.

We felt determined that we would find a turtle. Joel sang his seasonal turtle song. I did my best turtle call (ever heard it?). Both of us beckoned and willed the great marine matrons to our little spot of shore. How does a turtle choose where to nest?

As we tried to decipher the shadows around us, I began seeing turtles everywhere. It really is amazing just how much the mind yields to our desires. We came upon a small mound of freshly turned sand on the beach.

"Joel! Look at this sand! I bet this is a nest! I bet a turtle has been here! Ohhhh we musta just missed her-"

"Actually Brandon, I think that's just a sand crab's burrow." Joel spoke gently, as all good teachers do.

"Are you sure J-"

Before I could finish, a sand crab darted sideways out of the "nest". I nodded in the wake of my error. Of course it was a crab's burrow. It was far too small for a turtle, obviously. Funny that reason itself may be mercurial.

As if proving the point to myself, a few paces later I unwittingly did it again. Yes, I was THAT excited to see a sea turtle. "Joel, look at this sand! This has gotta be a nes-" I stopped myself just as another crab darted from the burrow. And that was all it took.

It took two crabs to start the final diminishing of our hopes, and the steam of our earlier excitement had fully dissipated after about an hour of beach-walking and no signs of nesting. I think it occurred to us that this was a kind of “needle in the haystack” operation. Or like a “winning the lottery” situation, where being in the same place and time as a sea turtle in the wild defies some extraordinary odds.

We chalked up our journey to an inspiring walk on the beach (still awesome) and opted to go to bed. As we fell asleep we joked about the turtle song and call again, having accepted our turtle-less fate. Or so we thought.

--

My eyelids popped open at the knock on the door. I groaned in the darkness, unsure where I was.

"I'm sorry to wake you," came a British accent through the window. "But I know you were interested in seeing a turtle, and there's one nesting on the beach right now." At the word "turtle" I snapped back into my surroundings and recognized the voice as Patrick, the owner of the resort.

"Whaddya think?" asked Joel, feigning calmness. We paused briefly as reality set in before we jumped out of our beds and chased Patrick down to the beach. In that ten-second power-walk of anticipation I looked up at the stars and smiled. I briefly pondered the notion that somehow we're all made of stardust. 

I froze when I reached the sand and saw the large awkward shadow crawling slowly on the beach, against the backdrop of the twilit Atlantic. I caught myself literally jaw-dropped, and I was overcome with amazement. Our turtle-calling had worked!

We shyly approached her, led by Patrick. We carefully gazed at her under a flashlight. She was about two and a half feet long and around 2 feet wide. She had already finished her nesting, and was now carving a path through the sand back to the water. She had bid her offspring good-bye, unsure of their survival. Patrick himself was excited. He pointed out the five pairs of scutes on her shell revealing herself as a Loggerhead.

According to the Patrick, there have been no recent sightings of Loggerhead turtles, and they are feared near extinction. The fact that she was nesting here of all places added to the uniqueness of our situation.

The rareness of the experience sunk deeper with every tread this treasure of the ocean mustered. I stared in total silence, as she pulled herself along the sand toward the waves. The crashing of the ocean lulled me into a trance, and I dissolved completely into a state of awe. We watched her disappear under a wave, and I imagined her dissolving likewise into the infinite horizon at the edge of the sea.

As I walked back to our hut I was filled with gratitude. For having experienced something so rare and beautiful. For having been woken up by a resort owner who cared about our experience. For having been born of this world in the first place.

I felt a deep appreciation for all life, and for existence itself. I dwelled again on the inconceivable odds against our existence, let alone the odds against having the capacity to experience such tremendous, ephemeral beauty. In that moment of appreciation I felt my connection with all things deepen, and contemplated the mysteries of our planet, and the universe.

Experiencing the presence of the loggerhead is as good an example of the experience of wonder I can list in my recent memory. Though I try to experience some degree of wonder on a daily, if not momentary basis, it's been a while since I've been rendered speechless for so long. 

A friend recently sent me the following short documentary. It details the experience astronauts have when they see our planet from space. If you have twenty minutes I highly recommend it, as you might be able to relate.

The astronauts discuss a profound sense of connection to the planet, and to all things OF it. Seeing the Earth as one great, vulnerable ecosystem, in which all of us play a part. They speak of recognizing their interdependence on all other things in this system.

It's been said that to experience wonder is to recognize yourself as part of something greater.  This is why I believe wonder to be such a valuable experience. It “refreshes our cache”, disintegrating our ego into some larger community of co-existence. In the experience of wonder we stretch ourselves around new experiences and perspectives. Wonder draws our attention to the vast sphere of the unknown and unknowable, and points us to reflect the certainty of our own beliefs.

In this way, the experience of wonder is somehow what we all need a lot more of. We need to recognize and value our shared existence. We need to find a way to challenge our assumptions and extend ourselves beyond the comforts of our beliefs. I believe we need to identify with our shared capacity for suffering in all its forms, and find unity in the recognition of our fragile interdependence. We are all earthlings. We are all stardust.

Getting along with one another requires a sort of cognitive humility. An acknowledgement that we experience such a small scope of possibility, and that others see and construct things differently. It requires making space for doubt, allowing the possibility that despite my best efforts I might be wrong. To me, this is the mindset of a willing student. Indeed, I believe the experience of wonder depends enormously on the mindset of the individual.

So this New Year, I've decided to re-commit myself to the mindset of a student of wonder. I have developed a bit of a student's oath, which I hope to bring with me wherever 2013 brings me. Admittedly its a bit of a draft, but I wanted to share it with you at this dawning of a new year.

Student's Oath

Everything is connected – we (all things) are all stardust, and my thoughts, words, and actions have influence greater than I could ever know. This simple premise goes a long way down, and reminds me to see myself in all things and approach each day with a sort of universal respect.

Understanding follows curiosity – Questions help me make sense of my experience, which determine how I interpret future experiences. Curiosity drives my intellectual development, shaping my perspective, and often allowing me great personal discovery by seeing things in different ways.

Challenge all assumptions - I must recognize that the assumptions upon which my model of the world is based may not, in fact, be reflective of the absolute truth. I feel I have a responsibility to ensure that every assumption is treated as fairly and judiciously as possible, and that I have the capacity to understand the rationale underlying others' assumptions

There is always another way – Despite years of practiced linear thinking, and searching for one right answer, I have learned that different perspectives reveal many answers. I dwell in possibility.

I might be wrong - At the end of it all, there's a teaspoon of uncertainty inherent to the structure of my reality. This is, in effect, one of the most important facets of the students' mindset, and perhaps one of the most difficult to practice. Our minds don't like the anxiety that is associated with uncertainty and not knowing, so we'd sooner cling to our beliefs than admit we might be wrong. Getting used to being wrong is something I think our schools and society need to begin to model. Kathryn might agree with me.

Thank you for considering the stories and ideas here. I've appreciated having you along for this most fulfilling journey. I hope all of you have enjoyed a rejuvenating holiday, and found growth and meaning in your personal reflections of past year. Here's to sharing a wonder-filled new year of kindness, consideration, and connection.

Yours in mystery's wisdom,

Brandon

Project Wonder - Day 74 - Delays

Many of you will know that I have a terrible time trying to get out of bed in the morning. I just love morning sleep. So much more than night-time sleep. I've even developed a habit of waking myself up 90 minutes before I actually have to get out of bed, so that I can have the satisfaction of hitting the snooze button five or six times. I thoroughly enjoy drifting back to morning sleep after these false alarms. (Thinking about it now, it seems like such ridiculous behaviour. Intentionally sending myself into a panic only to dwell the relief of its falsehood. Crying wolf just to enjoy the calm in the aftermath. )

Even Christmas morning doesn't often stir me from my beautiful slumber. In this way I'm a morning sleep snob. 

Not today though. Today morning sleep got bumped off my priority list, as I raced into the waking world. I bounced out of bed as though I was seven and Santa-happy on the 25th of December. Today is indeed a special day. It's the day my great friend Joel was supposed to arrive for a 10-day visit in Ghana. I was totally stoked, and floated all the way to school.

At about nine-thirty the chemistry class was halfway through it's final exam, when I received a call from a strange number. Sure enough it was Joel. 

"Hi Brandon, so I missed my connecting flight here in Ethiopia. The airline is paying for a hotel, and I'll be over to Ghana tomorrow."

Of course. 

That was my first thought. Of course. As though I'm somehow always the victim of circumstance. Of course this would happen to me. 

It's funny how quickly I felt/feel "hard done by". I have so many things and thoughts for which to be grateful, and here I am frustrated by the slight delay in my gratification. Never mind that my mind didn't immediately think about how Joel might feel about the situation, after having traveled his overnight trans-Atlantic journey. 

Thankfully, I recognized my gut reaction while still on the phone with my pal. Also thankfully, Joel is a pretty adaptable guy, and we were able to share a laugh at the fortune. 

I spent some time this afternoon wondering about my capacity for delayed gratification. I wonder what the world would be like if we were all a little better at postponing immediate pleasures for greater rewards later. If nothing else, I imagine our debts might not be so gargantuan. 

Even more wonder-worthy then, is how do we educate students to learn to appreciate delay and deference of our own self-interested desires?

Thank you for reading. 

Expectantly, 

Brandon

P.S. The famous Stanford marshmallow study sought to demonstrate the value of deferring gratification, and took stock of the age at which we begin to rationalize the value of patience and waiting. The following is an entertaining reproduction. 

Project Wonder - Day 73 - Mangoes

"Everyone who enjoys thinks that the principal thing to the tree is the fruit, but in point of fact the principal thing to it is the see. -- Herein lies the difference between them that create and them that enjoy." - Friedrich Nietzsche 

Every day I make efforts to pause and enjoy my senses. I'm not sure exactly when I began to cultivate this habit, but I'm very grateful for the practice. It helps to gravitate my days around moments of presence, no matter what future problems to which I'm supposed to be tending.

Of course as the future problems fade into the background a bit, it becomes easier to enjoy the fruits of existence. Which is why today I came home from school, and instead of immediately unpacking my satchel and getting to work on the final bit of marking, I opted to eat a mango. Okay, okay, I ate two.

Synaesthesia - Looking at these baby mangoes fills my nose with their fresh scent.

If you have never eaten a freshly picked mango, I am sorry that this PW will seem somewhat exclusive. You really should add that to your bucket list. And if you don't have a bucket list, start one, and make mangoes the first thing on the list.

A freshly picked mango from the tree outside our home has somehow been perfectly tailored for human consumption. The firm, dense body fits neatly in my palm, inviting my fingers to gently massage at its waxy exterior. Curiosity compels gentle compression, and slowly I succumb to full out squeezing, releasing the juices trapped in the once solid flesh and careful not to prematurely puncture the skin. Once I'm convinced my work is done, and the mango is ready, I set it down on the counter, and gaze one final moment at it's ephemeral beauty. Finally, I yield to temptation and gently tear a small hole in the thin golden layer. And my work is rewarded immediately, as the sweetest, fullest flavour rushes into my mouth and dances a happy dance on my tongue.

It is single-handedly the messiest, slurpiest fruit I have ever had the fortune of ingesting. But the flavour is unrivaled making the work just as much a part of its enjoyment. I feel an great, if completely disproportionate, sense of accomplishment as I rinse my hands of the sugars I couldn't lick clean. Enjoying my senses indeed.

I can't help but be completely amazed that this fruit exists. It came from the Earth! Somehow the elements have synchronized their efforts to produce this immaculate treasure, in such incredible abundance that I could eat myself sick of mangoes every day for weeks!

And even more amazing is that this fruit is not just for my taking, but serves it's bearer. The great leafy tree packages its genes in these golden treasures, and our consumption of the fruit helps to spread its seeds far and wide. The tree nourishes us with savoury sweetness, and we promulgate it's existence acting as storks of future seedlings. What an incredible relationship.

I often think that we COULD learn to live in some state of sustainable symbiosis. We could learn to value life in all its precious wonder. But too often we're not happy with "just" the mango.

Yours in simple pleasures,

Brandon

Project Wonder - Day 72 - Butterflies

Tomorrow marks the last day of school. My first full semester is coming to an end. Signed, sealed and delivered; rather, planned, experienced, and evaluated.

I'm so grateful to be in my current position, looking back at what seemed like insurmountable mountains from the other side. Many times I felt overwhelmed. I followed my own blind advice, and put myself through the paces, one step at a time. While the peak was often buried above the clouds, the students were with me to make the journey itself worthwhile. And of course, the hills behind me seem to have shrunk now that I'm here.

No, it's not Ghana. It's India. Still, it depicts my current sentiments. 

The students. The raison d'etre in my current capacity. I have learned so much from these bright minds. Not a day went by that they didn't stretch my understanding of the world. Nor was there a day when my faith in humanity wasn't restored by witnessing some small (or big) act of kindness. Indeed, the students have been the fire, and I'm surer now that I will spend a as much of my life as I can to fan their flames.

Perhaps one of the best, and simultaneously frustrating, things about working with these students is that they are yet unaware of the impact they have. On me, on each other, and on the world at large. It's great because their acts are sincere, but frustrating, because if they knew how much power they had, combined with their youthful energy, there's no telling what they would accomplish. Indeed, I've been caught on multiple occasions daydreaming about the possible paths these students might tread. It always leaves me smiling.

At one point during the semester we spoke about "the butterfly effect": the idea that a seemingly insignificant event can have huge, albeit indirect, consequences. I can't even remember the context in which we discussed it, but it got us (me) thinking about the beautiful complexity of the universe, and the small, yet immeasurable parts we all play within it.

This weekend I've been working on gifts for our classes. I want to impart the message that their journey is important. I figured the butterfly was a fitting symbol.

Origami butterfly - you can make one too! 

Thank you for joining me on this momentous journey. I'm already excited for an even better second semester.

Yours in complexity,

Brandon


Began the days with butterflies,
fluttering in my stomach,
flitting about my eyes.
Palettes of immiscible colours

Am I to net these painted wings?
They've already captured me.
Tapping into a vein of fantasy
calling memories of simple beauty,
noticing the purity of the universe
as she dances with herself,
and I strain to hear the music.

Project Wonder - Day 69 - Holiday

Today is a national holiday here in Ghana. It's also election day for the presidency. I've been home alone,  working away at the final few teaching-related tasks of the semester. Well, most of my day has been directed toward TRTs. I allowed myself quite a few breaks.

It's been so quiet outside. Normally there's a perpetual din through my bedroom window. Cars and motorcycles and roosters. But today there's been almost nothing. A truly peaceful holiday.

My solitude combined with the tranquility outside, provided the perfect climate for thought-meandering. Here are a few highlights in point form:

- I've been thinking a lot about how refreshing it was to see students out of the usual context. I saw the students on a field trip. And later that afternoon I got to chat with a few of the students at the open house. I even got to play a rigorous game of chess with one of the seniors. I was so surprised by how good he is, it was inspiring.

- My friend Joel and I had a chance to work on a shared writing project for the first time in quite a while. It was great to revisit ideas and start building again. Joel will also be journeying to Ghana next week for a visit. Exciting stuff!

- I spent some time listening to a few Rihanna songs, as recommended by a student. I couldn't help but dance. But after listening to the lyrics, I thought it strange how we often place self-aggrandizing celebrities on pedestals. It got me thinking about how focused our social, cultural and classroom upbringing has been on self-promotion.

- So I found myself researching projects that aim to build empathy.

Tonight, I've been watching magic videos. This one's my favourite:




It's been a great holiday. Full of perspectives. It's so easy to get stuck seeing the world in one way.

Thanks for reading,

Brandon
-

Project Wonder - Day 68 - Fans

My school doesn't have a mascot.

In high school, we were the Panthers. In university, we were the Marauders.

Today, the football team of Canadian Independent College Ghana played their hearts out in their first ever inter-school match. I can't help but feel like having a mascot might have helped us. Perhaps we could be the Golden Geese.

Our opponents, Ghana International School, didn't have a mascot either. Though if we were the Golden Geese, they might easily have suited something like the "Soul-Crushing Killer Beasts".

Just kidding. Nobody's souls were crushed today. A few egos were bruised, maybe, but I don't think there's anything too permanent about the damage. Besides, "winning" doesn't always mean defeating the other team. Would a Charlie Sheen joke be considered cliché?

CICs first match on a grass field... with proper goals. 

Ghana International School is arguably the best high school for academics and athletics in the country. They accept only the highest calibre students in both respects. They are approximately 1400 students strong. As additional measures of strength, consider that they have two full rosters of 22 students on each of the junior and senior football teams. They have a large-sized grass field on which to train each of these teams. They even have a FIFA certified referee on site at all times. He's a cool dude.

In contrast, the students of CIC total 41. We have a football team of 14, a small gravel parking lot in which to kick the ball around, and a coach who is still learning the ins and outs of the game from the team captain, as discreetly as possible I might add.

This story has all the makings of an underdog success story. But while the students of CIC ran fast, and kicked hard, they fell to GIS in a final score of 5 - nil.

During the first half the boys played really well. Even the other coach complemented us on our defense. Interestingly. in the first half the team had a small group of fans at the back; other students from the school cheering wildly for their mates. Our keeper only missed one save, and if not for a bad call by the ref (says the guy learning the game), we would have gone into halftime in a tie of 1-1.

In the second half, we switched sides. Our keeper suddenly found himself surrounded by fans of the other team. To make matters worse, many of the GIS fans remembered our keeper from his days as a student at the school. Although he was well received by his former classmates, they jokingly taunted and teased him around the goal. Nothing serious, but enough to get into his head.

In fact, I think the whole team could sense the majority of the audience rooting against them. The boys looked defeated and played with timidity as the goal count began to rise quickly.

I was reminded of the time I tried out Thai boxing in a bar on Koh Phi Phi a few years ago. I sparred another member of the crowd for 3 one-minute rounds, and when they announced my name at the beginning of the match, the whole place booed. I remember thinking, "but you don't even know me", and wanting to walk out of the place there and then.

During that time, I had only one person in my corner. She cheered me on and offered the best damn advice she could think of:

"Keep your hands up!"

My flashback refreshed me on the feeling of being rooted against. And how important it is to have someone to care about you and your success.

Admittedly I'm not much of a coach. At least a soccer coach. I'm more of a... soccer motivator. And I yelled and gave those players the best advice I could think of:

"Play hard boys, get the ball! Good work. GOOD HUSSSSTLE!"

All in all it was a great experience, and the teams shook hands and exchanged laughs and teenage ideas for a few minutes when the final whistle blew. I felt a great joy watching those students enjoy their time on the field, playing as a team. The bus ride home was full of song and joy and the smell of sweat as the students celebrated their loss. I could do nothing but close my eyes and listen.

I wonder just how much of our "loss" may be attributed to the influence of the fans. How do professional athletes stay focused on their performance? I'm developing a different appreciation for home-field advantage. Can we ever evade the influence by those who watch us perform?

It's gotten me thinking about those to whom I'm a fan. In what ways am I an audience member, or a whole audience. And how do my actions and words affect the players' performances?

Here's to your own resilient performances.

Brandon

Battered and bruised after sparring in Thailand. 

Project Wonder - Day 67 - Thinking

I was once told that only 5% of the people in the world were "thinkers". It was then that I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up.

For as long as I can remember, my mind has been restless. It will trace a thought to its origins, and chase a thought beyond its limits. I remember not being able to sleep many nights because my mind couldn't stop nurturing pregnant ideas and question-bearing questions.

Thinking has, in many ways, become an obsession. The thrill of discovery is addictive. The weaving of discordant threads of observation into meaningful tapestries fills me with a deep sense of pleasure, and inner peace. And the best part is, I can do it all by myself. Sort of like mental masturbation.

Through my affinity for living in my head I've developed an array of strange, and nearly impractical talents. Like reciting the English alphabet backwards in less than 3 seconds. Or learning to beat box and sing at the same time. Indeed, a lot of my magic-focused thinking is a completely self-centered undertaking. Perhaps I've found my way into magic because it buys me time and space to spend dwelling on possibilities in my mind.

The drive to be a "thinker" has not always been so cheerful, of course. Some ideas were so unrelenting and cyclical that a few times I found myself in crisis. Trapped in my mind with no seeming way out. A few times after high school my thoughts took me to the very edge. I have stood on the metaphorical cliff, staring down into the abyss of what could be a meaningless existence, contemplating the sort of purpose that might be found on the other side. During these times of desperation I heard Dustin Hoffman playing Hook in the back of my mind: "Death is the only great adventure I have left."

Thankfully, I have extraordinarily caring family (including friends) who helped me look out at the view, instead of down into self-proclaimed martyrdom. They reminded me of that essential human wisdom, that we are not in this alone. That love, for others, for oneself, for all things, is the force of life. And that everyone, no matter how intellectual, acts according to this simple principle.

And though there were a few dark spots, in retrospect they have added a richness to my journey, fostering a sense of appreciation for the finite quality of days. Indeed my path has been frought with mental frustration and triumphs and living on the edge has rendered the rays of my experiences meaningful. I wouldn't trade my thought-filled journey for the world, and I plan to continue pursuing this yellow brick road all the way to the wizard for a brain.

I used to think I wanted to be a part of some exclusive 5%. To join the ranks of those finest of teachers and scholars. To somehow consider myself worthy of the company of Socrates, or Shakespeare, or Sagan. To be at the forefront of understanding of the human experience (or at least MY human experience).

And while I still strive for the latter, I now realize that there is no 5%. Why should there be? Isn't everyone a thinker in the beginning? Aren't we all still thinkers, to some degree or another? Sure, some people are more critically minded and than others, but don't we all still have the tools? I refuse to believe there's a hierarchy of consciousness. And if there is, then it seems our inherited institutions of education and consumerism are to blame.

With this in mind, and a couple of days of classes left, today I suggested that the students are all "thinkers". We discussed what it means to challenge ideas and take new perspectives, and I encouraged them to celebrate their capacity to do so. Then we discussed conformity, and obedience, and how these thought assassins would slowly dull our blades, without us even realizing it. Until eventually we find ourselves going through motions we didn't sign up for, and want no part of.

I encouraged them to carry three things with them: curiosity in the form of questions, creativity in the form of possibilities, and love in the form of willingness. It will be great if even one of them accepts the quest moving forward. Greater than 5%. Here's hoping.

Thank you for considering.

Yours pensively,

Brandon

P.S.

Project Wonder - Day 66 - Uncertainty

Penn & Teller are two of my favourite performers. Teller is one of the most creative magicians I've ever seen. Here, let your mind wander for a few moments.

Don't worry, I have no idea how he does it either.

To be honest, its a little unsettling. But then again, its supposed to be. What we saw Teller perform defies so much of what I've (we've?) come to expect from the world. Indeed, this is what the experience of magic is all about, a momentary challenge of what we think we know. 

I often see magic, and illusion, as powerful tools to remind ourselves that we almost never see the full picture. That our sensations, perceptions, and interpretations of our experiences in the world are always partial. We are forever collecting puzzle pieces, though we will never know when the puzzle is fully complete. 

To put it another way, we may be 99 percent sure that the sun will rise tomorrow because we've always known it to rise. But is the sun rising tomorrow an inevitability? 

There it is. Another moment of doubt. They are few and far between sometimes. At least until we grow aware of our mind's propensity for blocking out windows of uncertainty. When we choose to challenge what we think we know to be true, either by asking questions, or pursuing new experiences, we open doors to possibilities. 

We are forever making a map of the world. A map of smaller maps. Our words and memories create a psychological landscape of what we believe the world to have been, and continue to be. But we must recognize the limitations of our cognitive cartography. As Alfred Korzybski suggested, "the map is not the territory."

The reality you and I experience is not the same reality. We live in the same sea of uncertainty, perhaps, but we do not have the same map of the sea. And we can never be sure that we're talking about the same sea. And though sometimes our maps seem to overlap, but we must remind ourselves that we might be wrong.

The experience of magic has a similar effect of bringing us into the realm of the nebulous and fuzzy "might be"s. The marginal degrees of uncertainty contained in all of our constructs of the universe contain infinitely deep rabbit holes of possibilities. "What if"s are borne out of not knowing. And magic reminds us that there are a lot of "what if"s we'd never considered before.

What if we could somehow get comfortable with not knowing? With the partiality of our maps, models, and stories? What might we learn then?

Thank you for considering.

Yours generally semantically,

Brandon

Project Wonder - Day 65 - Connections

I spend a lot of time encouraging students to be creative.

Obviously, I'm not the only one who sees the value of creative thinking. But for many people, creativity is "just" a perk of the arts, associated with games, and doesn't have any place in a serious classroom.

Today I overheard not one but TWO separate conversations between students, who were discussing why creativity is so important to them.

One student complimented the other on his ideas after a Brainsprout. I pretended to work at my desk across the room.

"I really liked where your head was, very creative Louis." Cristian often uses the pseudo-joking compliment.

Louis was obviously flattered, but played along: "Yah, thanks. I've been feeling extra creative lately." He shows a new dance move, that's absolutely ridiculous. The two laugh.

Later on this afternoon I happened to overhear a conversation between two girls in the hall outside the classroom.

"What format did you use for your ISU?"

"I just wrote an essay. Boring. But I couldn't really think of anything creative."

"What? You can write in anyway you want? Just imagine a bunch of different possibilities. Then you can choose one you really like."

I really can't fully describe the depth of my joy at overhearing these words from students. While I'm not sure that creativity is most OVERLOOKED piece in the education puzzle, I DO think that if more students developed their capacity for creative thinking, our communities would be a very different. And not just because they'd be full of innovative, limit-breaking ideas.

So what exactly is creativity, and what is it good for?

For me, creativity simply refers to the ability to develop original, meaningful ideas. It stands in contrast with conformity (blind or intentional), and habituation (a sort of self-conformity).

It's important to note that in my definition creativity does not refer to a character trait. Creative thinking, rather, is a skill that can be learned by everybody. In fact, all of us are already creative in some degree though we are completely unaware of it. And we can certainly choose to exercise our creative thinking skills more regularly.

I've also learned that being creative does not mean avoiding habits at all costs, or never agreeing with groups. It simply requires the ability to generate original, meaningful ideas. And there are lots of ways to do this.

One of the ways involves learning to connect two seemingly unrelated ideas. There are many examples of combined ideas all around us. Soccer + baseball = soccer baseball. Legal pad + computer = tablet. High five + long distance = air high five.

One of the creative warm ups I sometimes use with students involves making a list of as many ideas as possible that connect two random objects. For example, I will ask students to generate 100 ideas relating a banana with a chair. The students go to work:

"Make a chair out of bananas"

"Put bananas on students desks every morning as breakfast"

"Carve a seat out of a banana tree"

Try it yourself. I bet you come up with at least 10 different (albeit silly) ideas in a minute.

So much of being creative lies in the ability to make connections. We all make connections readily, most of the time without realizing it. The problem is in actively practicing developing ideas. To make connections intentionally can seem risky. After all, if I suggest some ideas and one of them is "bad" or "stupid", I might easily feel embarassed or judged or at least uncomfortable. Being creative requires a bit of safe space at first.  Unfortunately, it seems many classrooms don't create the space or encourage the practice of creative, possibilities thinking. And of course, there are many teachers and classes that do.

Once you've had practice taking risks and making connections in a safe space you eventually develop the courage to try and explore different possibilities without a safety net. Creative risks become easier, knowing that "bad" ideas often lead to better ones. Learning lies in every experience, and which means taking chances and playing with ideas can be valuable in themselves.

What if the purpose of school was not to help students find a career, but first to help them find/create a sense of purpose? Wouldn't learning to be creative help students write their own unique life story? Might they not be more willing to seize the day? It seems to me that finding a sense of purpose informs our decisions: how we spend our time, energy, money. In other words, having a purpose might help one navigate a career path.

Creative thinking, and the desire to learn, are intertwined. Students who have developed the ability to connect seemingly distinct ideas must also be practiced in learning from others' ideas.

Creative idea generation requires the mindset of possibilities without prejudice. Students must be open to all ideas, willing to gain from everything.

Students who are more creative have the ability to connect and find relationships between distant ideas. They are practiced in making meaning out of difference, and novelty. They will find ways to embrace diversity and uncover relationships. Creative thinking requires an attitude of compromise.

All of us are creative. But we learn to tell ourselves that we can't. From all sorts of places. Can't is a bad habit.

And sure, habits are an inevitable part of being human. But can't we choose to build more creative habits of thought? What, really, is the cost? What are the biggest barriers?

Semantically,

Brandon

Project Wonder - Day 61 - Dissonance

"Is it always to be a winners-losers world, or can we keep everyone in the game? Do we still have what it takes to find a better way?" - Robert Fulghum

In our psychology class we often refer to the idea of cognitive dissonance. When we hold two beliefs or thoughts in our mind that disagree with each other we experience a sort of tension or discomfort, and our minds take measures to settle this discrepancy. For example, I often feel guilty when I throw away uneaten food, knowing that my waste would feed a hungry mouth. Or when I believe that making healthier choices will benefit me immeasurably and catch myself scarfing down a bag of potato chips.

Our minds are meant to make sense of the world, and when things are in disagreement it means we haven't quite figured everything out. It's really quite unsettling, and is dealt with quickly by dismissing one of the thoughts/feelings/actions in disagreement and subsequently rationalizing our answers ("I know that eating junk food is in disagreement with my desire to live better, but I've worked so hard this week. I deserve this salty snack. Besides, it's just this once.")

The original proponent of Cognitive Dissonance Theory was Leon Festinger. He suggested that our minds are motivated toward a harmony of ideas and beliefs, or at least away from disharmony. Peace of mind.

Not only do we attempt to harmonize internally, but socially as well. We strive to fit in, to be part of a group and share perspectives. We enjoy being around those similar to ourselves. But perhaps we get a little too used to an inherited worldview, reinforced by surrounding ourselves in a community of those who share it. So much so, that we have a hard time seeing things any other way. We may internalize the assumption that there is only ONE RIGHT WAY to see the world, and begin to view differences as a threats.

This would be okay if it ended here.

Unfortunately the way we often deal with threats is by squashing them, instead of examining our own fears. We rationalize so much of opponent-squashing behaviour in the name of a right cause. It doesn't occur to us that we might be wrong, because our ways have always worked for us. Whoever Us is.  Under this view differing opinions and their owners are obstacles to our interpretation of the greater good, and somehow we are more comfortable justifying wars and violence than we are of admitting to our own human fallibility.

Our culture of violence is growing steadily as we gain more and more capacity to connect with multitudes around the world, rapidly increasing our exposure to different, and possibly disagreeing, attitudes and beliefs.  Arguably, the pace of this exposure is unprecedented, and somewhat ironically we must learn to grow accustomed to change.

Disagreement itself is inevitable, given the vast and unimaginable scope of human experiences. We can learn to accept this, but when our communities of self-fulfilling prophecies lead us to believe that others are wrong, we become defensive, self-interested, clutching our righteous inherited worldviews. And it's very dangerous when people begin to tell you "you're wrong because you're different."

Some people may have seen this video already. It is disturbing, and of course fascinating. And perhaps most important of all, it is telling of our increasingly violent behaviour on the basis of selfishness and entitlement. Perhaps we have grown too used to valuing our own interests, and devaluing others'.



Social harmony does not mean total agreement of beliefs. Indeed, that would be impossible. It does, however, mean not squashing others. Harmony is about co-existence, and getting used to the idea that we haven't got all the answers, if any of the answers, and that everyone's answer is worth listening to, for it might contain something we'd not considered before.

As my Mom said once to my siblings and I on our way to a visit with people we weren't particularly fond of as youth: "You don't have to like each other, you just have to get along."

Thank you for reading.

Yours in peace,

Brandon

P.S. When I watched the video above, I had to catch myself making character judgments of the store patrons. After all, in a similar situation I might behave just the same. Our problems are systematic, and somehow we're all a part of the same team.

Project Wonder - Day 60 - Big Buts

"Nothing in the world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not: nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education alone will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent." - Calvin Coolidge

Today's theme is big buts. I cannot lie.

Before touching on that, I should perhaps offer a justification for my absence. Ok, so perhaps calling today's PW "Day 60" is a bit misleading. I had planned to take a day or two's break from writing to  prepare for the school's annual board inspection. And here I am eight days later having survived a hurricane of paperwork. I'm still feeling fairly one-dimensional, but the inspectors left with smiles on their faces.

It was an exhausting week of monotonous tasks. Getting lessons and records and schedules in order. This self-organization thing is tough. It's very hard to stay ahead of anything, and it will be wonderful to have the chance to be proactive again once this semester ends.

The rate that things are going I'm a little afraid to blink. Final exams finish on the 14th, and semester two begins on the 4th. I don't know what I'll be teaching yet, and I can't wait to find out. I have learned so much, these three months, about myself as a teacher, and about the minds of learners. Most of the learning about my teaching practice concerns what not to do. For example, I will never schedule five classes worth of 1500-word culminating projects for the same due date again. Never ever. 

I also feel like much of my time here has been about learning to work. And learning to continue to work, beyond excuses and other self-imposed barriers. Through observing students' alibi-generating abilities I am becoming more aware of some of my own guilt-ridden excuses, and the readiness with which my mind creates them.

The mind is very good at filling the space created in the wake of goals with "but"s: "I wanted to be a magician BUT I don't have fast enough hands"; "I tried to do the reading BUT I couldn't see because the power was out."

There are buts everywhere, and more and more it seems to me that the buts in our lives are the sources of all problems. We are really good at finding excuses in everything. Today I was speaking with a student about this very thing. 

There's a student who comes to class late every day, with a different excuse. He sits at his desk sans notebook, and when I ask him why he's unprepared he very easily casts responsibility onto others, whether his mother, the taxi driver, or even his little sister. It truly is fascinating. 

Today I became intolerant of his justifications for laziness, and asked him to leave the class. I gave him the assignment of sitting at the office and writing out every single excuse that he can think of to justify not being able to do/accomplish things. I told him to make sure he fills the page.

"But I can't write that long my hand cramps easily." 

"Well, pause when it cramps, and shake it out. Then continue."

"But the generator is too noisy I can't concentrate." 

"I think you'll find this task easy to complete" I sighed knowing the irony might be lost, and I left him. 

--

When I came back at the end of the period, he had indeed filled the page with excuses. It is honestly the first task I have ever seen him complete. He also seemed proud of himself, so we sat down to debrief.

We examined the list, and he admitted that he felt a bit ridiculous reading them all in a row. I admitted that I have a list of excuses too, that's a lot longer than the one he produced. I suggested that perhaps the difference between being successful and not has to do with how impossible these list of excuses are to circumvent. In other words, how big are the buts?

I can only hope to see this student growing in awareness of the buts that he uses to hide from effort. If he believes that the excuses are trivial, then he should have no problem. Little buts. If the excuses seem difficult or impossible to get around, one might refer to them as big buts. 

Today I'm aiming to always be cognizant of my buts, and to question just how big or little they really are. I hope to own my excuses, take responsibility for the ways I choose to view the world and subsequently the limits I choose to set.

Thank you for reading. 

Yours in but reduction,

Brandon

Project Wonder - Day 52 - Egos

"Make your ego porous. Will is of little importance, complaining is nothing, fame is nothing. Openness, patience, receptivity, solitude is everything."

- Rainer Maria Rilke

There's a poster in the library at school that reminds me on a regular basis that "listen and silent are spelled with the same letters." It's cute, definitely poster material.

But I wonder about the poster's intended message. Surely it doesn't purport some synonymity between silence and listening. On a daily basis I work students who I'd swear were practicing ninjas given their dedication to voicelessness. And yet I struggle to find any evidence that these silent warriors listen with any degree of intention.

Perhaps the poster means to suggest that silence is a requirement before listening can take place. That is, silence is a necessary condition, but it is not sufficient. This, I'll allow.

But I've since been wondering what it means to listen. To really listen. Sometimes I find myself pretending to listen by nodding silently to someone as they mouth words in my direction, meanwhile the voice inside my head is playing double-dutch around the strands of others' sentences, looking for a way to get some words in myself.

Today I tried to notice just how much my ego prevents me from truly listening to others. Do I really listen? Or am I just waiting for my turn to speak?

For many reasons, an ego is a useful thing to have. It tends to make sure that I get what I need, and often it goes after what I want. It celebrates my triumphs, and leads me away from fears and dangers. For the most part, it works for me.

But while my ego is a grounding solace in a sea of uncertainty, it must also be recognized as an isolating island on which I am somehow stranded. If someone gets too close my ego believes defences are merited. If new ideas or perspectives are presented the ego searches for their value to self, and readily dismisses them otherwise.

The real challenge set in when my ego began to notice other islands, perceiving other selves as threatening competitors in a game of survival. I wrote a bit about this game yesterday, suggesting that the conditions of survival are much different than what they were even one hundred years ago. At least, that they could be.

Today in biology groups of students found themselves in disagreement over some data point. Individual students calculated and re-calculated, until eventually we addressed the problem together as a class to discover the correct answer. When the answer was announced war cries of "in your face" and "take that" and cheers of celebration were thrown through the air. Other students got defensive and begged for a recalculation, clearly ashamed for having gotten the answer incorrect in their own process. Inherently the class assumed that we were against each other, that we were part of a zero-sum social game where there were winners and losers.

The egos got caught up in projecting and defending their rightfulness, all the while we completely forgot about our shared pursuit of solving the problem. I wish I could say this sort of thing stopped happening beyond the high school classroom.

But then again, those are MY wishes. Self-motivated, ego-driven.

Is it possible to dissolve the ego in the collective? Or to find the collective intertwined with the chase of the ego?

After school a student shared a few personal concerns with me. I genuinely sought to listen, and understand her situation, perspective, and desires. I did what I believe to be the best way to listen, and I asked questions  to bring my ego closer to her world.

Perhaps two egos will never share the exact same perspective. But if we look far enough into the distance, our different perspectives become less and less significant, our gazes only crossing at the horizon. Here's hoping we'll all get close enough to be willing to look in the same directions.

Thank you for considering,

Brandon

Project Wonder - Day 51 - Infant Morals

We create a lot of boundaries. I've already written about our ever-negotiating borders, but today I came across this video that offers a few ideas about just how quickly we value self-similarity.






Tell me that your mind isn't racing. Go on. What would Rousseau say?

The results of these studies point to an instinctual preference for those who share our preferences. And perhaps even more shockingly, an inborn tendency to will punishment on moral transgressors. Have you ever thought of a baby as an ill-wisher?!

I suppose I have always thought of babies as all-forgiving. In my head they are pure, objects of nothing but love and light. Maybe that's my complete inexperience with babies writing.

Either way, I never imagined infants to be vengeful. Fighting fire with fire. Mean rabbits don't deserve rewards.

I wonder how the babies would respond if the "mean puppets" were punished more severely. Such an elegant experiment, no? Characterizing puppets and inferring babies trait preferences from the characters they favour.

Why do we prefer those similar to ourselves over those who seem different? From an evolutionary perspective recognizing and siding with self-similar beings is obviously valuable in an environment where anything different could safely fit the assumption of hungry and dangerous. Of course I'm talking ancient human history, when resources were scarce and threats were abundant.

It's possible to trace the inheritance of this behaviour and pattern of thinking, through generations leading to the present. We are a world of each others' Others, and we almost always associate the Other with danger. At least, I do.

But the global social environment of the present is unimaginably different from our ancestors' communities. We have the capacity to connect with almost anyone in the world, from almost anywhere in the world. And we have resources to share! More and more of the Other are losing their otherness, as we recognize just how much we're all related. Studies in genetics, sociology, psychology, anthropology tell us that we're all of the same kind.

Yet we remain divided by national, cultural, and ideological barriers. Divided and willing to harm those who we believe have done us wrong, always fighting fire with fire, over borders we've inherited.

I wonder if we may collectively, consciously, decide to evolve. Become aware of the differences we see, the cliques we create, the puppets we favour and choose to recognize the similarities we all share. To see our Selves in the Others. Isn't the pursuit of empathy better for our survival? It has to be better than killing ourselves.

Thank you for considering,

Brandon

P.S. I don't have a membership, but here's a link to the nature article referenced in the clip:

http://www.nature.com/nature/journal/v450/n7169/full/nature06288.html

Project Wonder - Day 50 - Writing

Today marks the fiftieth day of my commitment to daily writing. Though it has been difficult at times, and certainly not uninterrupted, the choice to write has been one of my better decisions.

I have wanted to write for a long time. I'm enamored by the notion that, more than the spoken word, the prose or poetry of an author may never stop carrying meaning. The written word has a certain permanence, a lasting power that enables it to connect with unknown audiences beyond the small fraction of space-time with which I'm personally familiar. Writing grants ideas a degree of autonomy, setting them free to interact and influence other memes. Whether my ideas have any usefulness is not up to me to decide. But I recognized that if I don't take the time to etch them into the external world somehow, they may never be more than my own means to entertainment.

For several years now I have kept a journal of sorts, attempting to capture ideas and insights as I experience them. I have hundreds of pages of disconnected "snapshot" ideas floating around on my hard drive. It's possible that someone might be able to decipher my cryptic semantics and begin to make sense out of the disjointed euphemisms. Possible, but not necessarily likely. It is here where the true task of writing lies.

It's one thing to have an idea that makes sense to me. Inside my mind I rarely need to explain my own ideas, and the assumptions on which they're founded. After all, it's MY mind.

The task of writing, as a friend of mine shared some years ago, is to become clearer on the logic and rationale contained in my ideas. To better understand the origins and possible consequences of an idea and to discover the language required to communicate my intended meaning in these ideas to others.

And so this daily practice has done wonders for my own sense of cognitive clarity. I am able to make greater sense of my inner monologue (sometimes dialogue) and I think I'm getting better at the craft of choosing words. Plus, as the habit of daily writing continues to solidify itself in my waking existence I intend to pursue more challenging writing goals, the details of which I won't reveal here.

Offering ideas to the universe not only allows others to enjoy or play with them, but it also clears my mental palette in a sense, allowing me to dive further into my experience, knowing that I've mapped the territory, albeit imperfectly.

So thank you for reading, and sharing in my scribbles. Here's to another fifty days!

Yours compositionally,

Brandon

P.S. Check out this writing advice from one of my favourites, courtesy of Brain Pickings.

Project Wonder - Day 49 - Excuses

One of the things I'm really enjoying about teaching so far, is the degree of creativity hidden inside student excuses. It truly is amazing how much effort goes into making up reasons for NOT doing a task. I often encourage students to redirect their efforts into performing the tasks themselves, which often catalyzes yet another set of excuses from the students.

For example, report cards went home a couple weeks ago. One of the students came to me with a distressed expression.

"Sir, I don't like the comments you put on my report card."

"I'm sorry to hear that George, do you mean to say that you don't agree with them?"

"No, I guess they are right. But my parents won't be happy."

"Well George, remember that these comments are feedback for you. You know where you are, and where you want to be, so now your task is planning and working to reach your destination. We can improve your results for the final evaluation in the course"

George seemed to like the idea of working with me on a daily basis, to help him organize his priorities and plan to reach his academic goals. And yet day after day, it is I who remind him to come see me, to bring his agenda with him to class, to change his behaviour. And every time I remind him, he presents me with another excuse. He is a victim of circumstance, almost always.

And of course he's not alone. It's a common mentality not only in classrooms, but in circles of adults too. I'm sometimes amazed by the excuses some people tell themselves for not achieving their goals, or following through on what they set out to do. Why do some people create so many excuses? I suppose playing victim is an easy way to justify turning away from the work.

"I'm not strong enough to get over this hurdle."

Rather than trying and failing, it seems better not to try, and convince oneself that success isn't even possible. I think this is the mentality that many victims entertain. All too often we forget how much our mentality actually shapes our reality. If you learn to believe that you're destined to fail, well, then you're actual chances of success will be less. Like in this little classroom experiment to demonstrate the phenomenon known as "learned helplessness".



Sometimes we don't recognize the limits we create for ourselves. The students who performed poorer on the third word didn't realize that the limits of their performance were created by their own negative emotions.

While we may never realize all of the limits we impose on ourselves, all of the ways in which we victimize ourselves, we should remember that they are in fact there, and that our mindset makes a difference.

It's as a friend of mine said, "If you believe something to be real, it has real consequences."

Today I'm wondering about my own invented limits. What beliefs are holding you back?

Yours subjectively,

Brandon

Project Wonder - Days 47-48 - Can You Imagine?

My connection to the Internet was faulty yesterday. Which, I won't lie, was kinda nice in a way. It forced me to take another rest for a bit.

With our modems out of order, my housemates and I decided to go for a beverage at "Bouncy's Grill Foods", a small outdoor restaurant about five walking minutes away. We are getting incredibly busier and busier making preparations for our annual school inspection which is set to happen a week from Monday. But as Philip said so eloquently, "Even those who weep must pause to blow their noses." No matter how busy I get, I must remember to take breaks every once in a while, if only to catch a breath.

While we were out last night we spoke about the pace of time's passing, and the near ending of yet another year. Jennifer said something that caught my attention, "The days go so quickly, your semester will be over in less than a month. Can you imagine?"

Something about the way she said it nagged at me. It suddenly dawned on me that the students also frequently used the same expression. "Can you imagine?" An expression of disbelief roughly translating to "Isn't it amazing?" in my dialect.

But my usual question only seeks agreement. "Why yes, it is amazing." On the other hand, Jennifer's question pries open a can of possibilities. It presents itself as a challenge to comprehend something nearly unfathomable. But it also serves as an invitation to create a vision of some unlikely possibility. It's an excellent question to ask when pausing, and it's been on my mind all day.

I've been asking myself the question since I rolled out of bed this morning. Not only have I been in a perpetual state of amazement, but I've also been dwelling in ideals. The question has launched me deeper into a pursuit of ultimate fantasy, and I spent much of my day painting Utopian visions on the back of my eyelids. Students noticed my mental sojourn and started asking me why I ate my lunch with my eyes closed.

Yes, I can imagine. It's an incredibly powerful thing to be able to do. It's the reason we humans have overcome so many of our challenges. And knowing that we have this capacity fills me with great hope that we may continue to overcome barriers. To one day choose to live peacefully, respectfully, and willfully.

I used to think of imagination, and its cousins creativity and play, as perks of our existence. Now I recognize these mental capacities for their true utility to our continued future as a species. What if we treated imagination not as superfluous to our education, but central to it? What if we had as much of a responsibility to use our creative capacity as much as we're expected to be critical? What would the world look like?

Time is going by so fast. Can YOU imagine?

Thank you for reading.

Yours quixotically,

Brandon

Project Wonder - Day 46 - Negative Space

The world can feasibly be divided into two categories: that which I am, and that of which I am not. Me and Not Me. And I have a large say in where the border lies. And so do you. And everyone and everything else that is Not Me.

These two categories shape one another, constantly imposing and absorbing the others' spaces. Like the yin and yang. Or night and day. It's as a friend of mine recently said, "Freedom is only as far as the next human's nose."

We are interconnected, all of us. We interact with each other and impose ideas on one another. In a very real sense we share a space, and the borders between us are forever being negotiated.

This means that my choices affect all others, if only marginally. By extension, everyone's choices affect all others. This means we all have a responsibility to one another, if only marginally.

How marginal can responsibility really be?

We all have the capacity to create space for one another. To respect each other's struggles for survival, love, and purpose. We always have a choice to work with one another, minding each others' quests and ensuring each other's well-being. To teach about our worlds, but also to be students of others'. We can also choose to be forgiving of each others' impositions.

Easier said than done.

This morning our classes were filled with interruptions - other students walking in to exchange modems or computers, teachers coming to check out all of the costumes for pajama day, student conversations in class. I was having a difficult time following my personal f-word policy. I felt imposed upon, not being able to accomplish what I wanted. It put me in a sour mood.

It took me a while to realize just how sour I was being. It wasn't until Emily came to talk to me after lunch that I realized students had avoided me all morning. Completely isolating myself in my own victimhood.

She brought her laptop over. "Sir, you know that song you showed me in September? I saw it on an episode of Glee and thought you might like it."

I did like it. What a gift. It brightened my afternoon to realize that despite radiating negativity this student was still willing to be kind to me. I'm sure Emily has no idea the impact her sharing has had on me. It's easy to forget the impact we have on one another. That we make up one another's negative space with our choices.

I allowed myself to forgive the morning's disruptions, and I soon found that the students had forgiven my foul mood.

I chose to work with the students in the afternoon. And they responded by choosing to work with me. They wanted to go outside so we did. We studied under the mango tree in a circle of chairs. What a brilliant idea. Why I didn't do it sooner I'll never understand.

We create the spaces that make the world. To what goal can we work together?

Thank you for considering.

Respectfully,

Brandon

Project Wonder - Day 45 - Stuck

"Imagination will often carry us to worlds that never were, 

but without it we go nowhere." - Carl Sagan

In my recently self-appointed capacity as the head of the Science department, I have taken to reading more of the science and technology sections of news websites, constantly on the prowl for curiosity triggers. Discussing current scientific discovery and debates with classes makes the stuff the curriculum tells us to learn   more relevant.

Today I found this article, which topically describes a carefully designed new material that bends light around objects. That's right folks, it seems possible that soon invisibility cloaks will be all the rage:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/science-environment-20265623

What's most fascinating to me, is that this sort of thing was almost certainly thought to be completely impossible when I was "growing up". The sort of fodder that was best left to children and their wild imaginations. Not the stuff of the regular, habitual, predictable world known to adults as "reality".

And yet, here we are, reading about technologies that are accomplishing, if only marginally for now, the very things that were once labelled impossible.

At least part of the reason we are afforded this amazement is because someone was curious enough to pursue that impish urging "what if" that so many of us were inadvertently (?) taught to ignore as immature.

I love to imagine what the world might look like if more and more people were willing to acknowledge the "sticky-ness" of their minds, and further willing to stretch their personal limits by considering "impossible" possibilities. What if more people recognized just how many limits are self-imposed, whether conscious or not?

As a demonstration, consider the technology discussed in the article. I'd be willing to bet that the majority of people who read the article, or hear about the technology think of the famous cloak in the Harry Potter series, and latch onto this single, though no less incredible, possibility. And here our minds try to settle again. With one new possibility.

But what other possible uses might there be for this technology? Even when we think we've stretched our limits, there are always more limits to stretch.

Today in class we played with possible applications of the technology. In addition to using it for espionage related activities, students came up with nearly 100 ideas for this sort of technology. Some of my favourites include protecting endangered species from predation/poaching, securing valuable possessions in invisible safes, and remaining cool on a hot day by shrouding one's naked self in the material (which may, in fact, be warmer than regular clothes).

Many of the ideas we have are silly, and unrealistic, and implausible. But unless we consider them, we will never find any possibilities worth pursuing. And we will remain in our stagnant, sticky-minded, limited ways.

There are solutions to our problems, and potentials to fulfill. What limits are you stuck within?

Thank you for reading.

Yours in play,

Brandon

Project Wonder - Day 44 - Azonto

"Let us read, and let us dance; these two amusements will never do any harm to the world." - Voltaire

Today's PW is less a reflection and more of a confession.

For the past couple of days I've been avoiding work, by doing work. I've been secretly sweating out Azonto in the privacy of my room.


Okay, so I'm nowhere near this guy. But the dance is pretty fly, no?

I was introduced to Azonto by our students of course. A few students blew my mind with a brief performance last week, and I'm afraid things are about to get ill. Because it's true my friends, I've come down with a bad case of Azonto.

Does dancing count as being productive?

Project Wonder - Day 43 - Remembering

Today is Remembrance Day in Canada.

I remember being confused by this day as a kid. I was always troubled with the task of remembering something I wasn't there to experience. I knew we were supposed to remember fallen soldiers, and the sacrifices made by previous generations, and the unimaginable suffering these people endured to secure the freedoms we've grown accustomed to having.

All of this sounded terribly important to my second grade self, so I tried really hard to remember this stuff. But I could never invent the scene I wasn't a part of, and so I pretended to remember for years. I wore the poppy without really knowing what stories it represented.

Of course, I didn't need to understand what I was meant to remember. What is critical is that I understood why I was meant to remember it. Many people died to make the world a better place. I knew that it was important to remember to be thankful to these distant strangers, and to be grateful for the life I am privileged to live.

The specifics of my made up memories are informed by history books, movies, and my imagination. But these don't really matter anyway, since I can never really imagine what life as a soldier in battle was like.

It's the "why" that's important. What do you choose to remember, and why have you made that choice? The reasons one remembers are revealing of one's character. Our reasons are the meaning, and form the basis of perception and decision-making.

In addition to your Remembrance Day whats, please consider making time to ask why. Thank you for reading.

Yours in re-imagining the past,

Brandon

P.S. The specifics of my Remembrance Day memorial were informed by these images of the past etched in the present.

Project Wonder - Day 42 - Bus thinking

My pal Jennifer and I took the bus to the market today, to pick up a few groceries. The actual term for the vehicle is "trotro", and it's the cheapest means of getting around next to walking. Trotros are vans that have been gutted and re-outfitted with almost 20 seats. It's something of a marvel to experience. I was in the second to last row when I took this picture this morning.

You'll notice the passengers gazing off into the distance, taking in the scenes while patiently waiting for their stop. A behaviour that's similar to many public transporters in Hamilton and Toronto. Passengers board with the occasional nod to a co-traveller, perhaps even a verbal greeting to the driver, then often reabsorb into the privacy of their minds and headphones. Many don't even acknowledge others with eye contact. I jumped through the door and looked only for my seat. I then directed my gaze out the window without so much as a smile to any of the passengers. In fact, the desire for privacy in public seems to be common to people in all of the places I've had the pleasure of seeing.

It seems odd to me that in all the spaces I share with others, much of the time I think only of minding my business. Given our incredible capacity for communication and connection with one another, often the best conversation I can think of has to do with the weather. Which worked well for me in Hamilton, where the meteorological spectrum was a little broader. Here in Accra there's not much to be said:

"It's hot today." I say, leaning toward the passenger on my left.

"Yea." she nods.

"Really hot." I add, for clarification.

"Oh... yea" she smiles and nods.

And that's all I've got. I'm unsure what else I might be able to talk about, that there's anything I could say that would be meaningful to my fellow voyager.

Don't we have more incredible things to chat about than the weather? What fears, or limitations prevent us from pursuing a connection with others in public? What might the world look like if public spaces, like city buses, were safe enough that interacting with others wasn't perceived as risky? How can public spaces influence and encourage meaningful interpersonal interaction? What role does art have? What value is gained from more social interaction?

Lots of questions, and even more possible responses. Our ancestors are all related, and yet somehow we prefer to keep our distances.

Thank you for reading.

Fellowly voyaging,

Brandon