What I’ve Needed to Know as Told by Paulo Freire and Amy Phoeler

"To the oppressed, having internalized the image of the oppressor and adopted his guidelines, are fearful of freedom. Freedom would require them to eject this image and replace it with autonomy and responsibility. Freedom is acquired by conquest, not by gift. It must be pursued constantly and responsibly. Freedom is not an ideal located outside of man; nor is it an idea which becomes myth. It is rather the indispensable condition for the quest for human completion." (Freire, pg. 47)

And now, please enjoy this clip of Amy Poehler’s address to the 2011 Harvard graduates. And yes, I am going to try to combine this with Freire; hang with me.

In case you didn’t have 15 minutes to give to this video, let me summarize. Basically, Poehler (a comedic genius) puts forth her best advice for this graduating class (which is a group of students who were mere middle-schoolers when 9/11 occurred which gave new meaning to ‘fear’) that life is best lived when you surround yourself with a group of people that “challenge and inspire you” and that the “answers to life’s questions are in someone else’s face.” She so eloquently points out that although these Harvard graduates have achieved an academic feat both rare and idolized; the reality is that the world in which we live is far more complex than a degree can make sense of. She basically challenges these graduates to place themselves among people who can give them new understandings and move to a place where fear no longer dominates our world.

Harvard graduates are not oppressed. Or are they? These are the people who have followed the oppressors guidelines and come out on top, but (without getting too Woodson on you) have still been mis-educated. They were told that the best way to find “human completion” was to get that outstanding degree. This was probably acquired, for many, as a gift based purely on their class status (oh, hello Bettie) and have not proceeded to find freedom through any true conquest of their own. I might suggest that the Harvard graduates of 2011 are fearful of freedom.

With this in mind, I think Phoeler does an incredible job of pointing out the fact that you’ve really only made when you’ve found solace in another person’s eyes or that you’ve found a way to work as a group towards a common goal. She is basically saying that your mis-educated guidance through an educational banking system (I don’t know how Harvard actually does it, but I would suggest that all institutions of higher education miss Freire’s pedagogy as a whole) isn’t going to be able to fulfill you entirely. She points to the facts that you must work as a group to “constantly and responsibly” defeat all methods of oppression in a “quest for human completion.”

Perhaps my admiration for Amy Phoeler gave her more credit than was actually due, but I know that this is something that I would have liked to know straight out of college. There I was, a college graduate, ready to journey out into the world I thought I understood thanks to books and tests was welcomed by a reality I was not prepared for. We all need to be reminded that our quest towards human completion does not come by academia alone, but rather with through being challenged and inspired and looking into someone else’s eyes when the fear of freedom/oppression becomes to heavy.

In our context, Foucault looks like...

“Disobedience by religious fanaticism, resistance to work, and theft, the three great transgressions against bourgeois society, the three major offenses against its essential values, are not excusable, even by madness; they deserve imprisonment pure and simple, exclusion in the most rigorous sense of the term, since they all manifest the same resistance to the moral and social uniformity that forms the raison d’etre of Pinel’s asylum.” (Foucault, pg. 157)

We vaguely brought up this section of The Birth of the Asylum in class while also pairing it with the recent “No Camping” law being executed in Colorado Springs. I enjoyed some time researching this law and the recent Homeless Outreach branch of the CSPD to try and figure out just what is going on here. I found a number of articles and news coverage of this homelessness issue. This is one that I found most “useful”:

It appears as though the homeless of Colorado Springs are not attending church, not working (although this is blamed on Obama’s lack of job creation), and stealing valuable time from police officers and beauty of the land. It’s almost too obvious that the “No Camping” law is basically a reaction from the bourgeois society who feels as though something has been taken away from their “madness-free” society.

When I think of Colorado Springs I can’t help but think of what is likely the most visible and powerful bourgeois group, Focus on the Family. I can’t say that Focus on the Family is directly behind this ordinance, but I can say that they haven’t stepped up like other religious communities in the area to really solve this issue. Truth is, those visiting the Focus on the Family headquarters might see real poverty and question the idea that trusting and believing in God is all that you need to do for a healthy life. Whether or not FOTF has anything to do with this ordinance, I think it’s certain that they don’t have anything against it.

Colorado Springs is basically operating as a society so plainly described by Foucault with their very obvious “not in my backyard” mentality, even going so far as to buying one-way bus tickets for homeless persons (using language of “family reuniting”). I really wish this wasn’t so depressing (although what in Foucault isn’t depressing?!), but the truth is, deviating from the norm is always going to leave you penalized and classified as “insane.”

I’ve tried to imagine how I would react to this situation if I were the mayor of Colorado Springs. I would certainly be torn between my belief in individual freedom and issues of safety/sanitation. I think there is no question that I would only be okay with such an ordinance if there were already enough forms of shelter available for those living under the freeway. I would also be conscious of employment and living wage issues. I would also want to provide some sort of training (primarily for those in law enforcement) to eliminate the stereotypes surrounding the homeless population. Either way, I’d still be acting as the watchful eye to someone, somewhere and maybe in the end I’d just buy one-way bus tickets for all the bourgeois and turn Colorado Springs into a deviant’s oasis.

I haven't posted in a very long time, but I had been posting on another blog for one of the best classes I have taken thus far at Iliff, Social Construction and Selfhood. I apologize in advance if the connections are totally clear for you, but here is a list of the books we read and then integrated into my thinking. If anything, you should take some time to check (or re-check) these classics out.

Bettie, Julie. Women without Class: Girls, Race, Identity. University of California Press, 2002.

Bourdieu, Pierre. Practical Reason: on the Theory of Action. Stanford University Press, 1998.

Butler, Judith. Bodies that Matter. New York: Routledge, 1993.

Foucault, Michel. The Foucault Reader. Ed. Paul Rabinow. Vintage Reprint, 1994.

Freire, Paulo. Pedagogy of the Oppressed. New York: Continuum, 1970. (multiple versions available).

Mead, G.H. Mind, Self, and Society. University of Chicago Press. Orig. 1934.

Woodson, Carter G. The Miseducation of the Negro.Orig. 1933.

Protest

The abuela riding the bus in the early mornings on her way to work, that is my abuela. The young hija hoping to go to school, but cannot continue her education, that is my hija. The young hijo who is looking for work, but will not get hired, that is my hijo.

Despite the cold weather, about 100 people, young and old, documented and undocumented, Hispanic and non-Hispanic, Spanish-only, English-only and Spanglish, students and working folk, gathered to spend time in opposition to the privately-owned holding center for immigrants awaiting deportation. As we held our signs on the dark street corner of 30^th and Peoria, a large sign reading TIRES FOR LESS behind us, a number of faces stared from the whirling traffic, cars honked and some people waved or looked plain confused. We gathered for poetry and inspiring words, read both in Spanish and English. From our dark corner we made our way around the block, chanting words like, Immigration is not a crime! Why are people doing time! Once we made it to the back of the detention center we shared with each other how we can help end this injustice experienced by those locked up based on their “papers” and we sang, appropriately, Imagine, loud enough, we hoped, for those inside to hear our supportive words.

I wasn’t entirely sure that this protest, in the dark and without representation of any legislators or owners of the facility, was the most effective way to demand change. There were representatives from the media who will provide a very powerful outlet for getting others involved and the possibility that those in power around this issue will take an extra look at the situation, recognizing that there are people who are upset and willing to fight for the rights of those who are seen as lower than low in regards to their status in the United States.

For me personally, however, I felt as though this was an opportunity to recognize the knowledge I already have of the desperate immigration situation. For that hour, I was standing, presente, with my refugee friends moving without papers from Afghanistan into Europe; I was standing, presente, with the children in deportation hearings I tried to find pro bono legal representation for; I was standing, presente, with the stories we heard during Iliff’s Social Change Praxis on Immigration. For that hour, 100 people were standing, presente, with the thousands of people affected by the disastrous US Immigration policy. From there, we might share our experience with a Facebook status update, by sharing a link or tweeting. From there, we might be able to convince others to get involved or at least think for a second about the humanity that lives among us, that we are all a hijo or hija.

On being at Iliff...

Maybe it’s less about searching for something new and more about discovering what’s already been laid out before you.

My paternal grandfather worked as an electrician here in Denver. He had spent his whole life on the farm in Northwest Iowa, but when my father became too ill with asthma and allergies, my grandpa Jean picked up the family, sold the farm and moved out to Colorado, a place he’d only seen once before in his life. If he hadn’t, it is more than likely my father wouldn’t have made it through that year of his life.

My grandpa maintained his farming roots with pictures of Farmall tractors and a wardrobe accessorized always by a seed cap, worn slightly askew. He wired homes and did odd jobs for people all along the way. He was an elder at First Reformed Church on Clarkson and Iowa. He wasn’t a fancy man, but he was a hard worker, a man who loved his family and who loved God. I lost my grandpa while I was in high school, but there are still many ways in which I believe he’s still been able to support me.

I was contemplating attending Iliff when my father told me this story. My grandparents lived on Birch and Iliff, so traveling east and west on Iliff was a normal occurrence. On one particular day, my grandpa, going through the intersection at University and Iliff got t-boned by another car, sending his light green pick-up spinning in circles, opening his back hatch and having all of the contents spew onto the lawn right next to the Iliff School of Theology sign. Thousands of nails, screws, wires, tools, switches, littered the lawn. My grandpa remembers with fondness the number of Iliff students that made their way out to the lawn and helped him put back together the many pieces of his life, back into that light green truck.

From there I realized that Iliff is just that: a place where people come together to fix the messes, the accidents and to serve in the unfortunate circumstances. It was that way decades ago, and it’s still that way today.

In light of the election and because I had to write a reflection for my Social Change course...

My Monday afternoon tea spot has just been overtaken by the local school children. Braces, sneakers, silly bands, body odor, cell phones, neon sunglasses, squealing. It's a terrible sight. I'm not the person who looks back on middle school or high school with sincere disdain. I didn't mind it really, I wasn't completely cast aside and never had to have braces. Sure, I made the perm mistake once and certainly had to deal with the fact that my arms and legs grew much more quickly than the rest of my body, but all in all, it was fine.

That was, until George W. Bush was elected. I had fit in quite well in my crazy Dutch town, I was tall and blonde, I have Van in my last name. There was no question Jesus loved me; I was, after all, a pastor's kid and religiously attended our youth group events weekly. No one ever questioned my morals, values or beliefs. Until I started talking about them.

That was likely my first mistake. See, 14 year olds don't talk about Meet the Press, or listen to Neil Young, or correct their teacher for using the phrase "pro-abortion". People started to look at me differently...they started to wonder.

Then we invaded Iraq. I was no longer just a tall, blonde, Van, pastor's kid....I was also a, gasp, liberal. I was a pacifist. I didn't like G.W. and I was pro-choice. I told people. I told people I wanted to educate them. I told people they were wrong. My second mistake.

It's easy to believe that your internal feelings and what you've learned at home is exactly how the world should operate. It's not even wrong to believe that, but there is a level to which you can adequately influence those around you. I, unfortunately, was the only one who believed what I believed. I became a heathen and people told me they were praying for my salvation.

It would have been easier to eliminate myself completely from the ignorant presence of those around me, but I recognized early on, that I would be a lot better off if I spent all the time I could around these people, my friends, but my political and theological strangers [enemies?!]. I endured their blank stares, their mocking, their laughter....I peeled the Bush '04 sticker off my car and replaced it with my Habitat for Humanity sticker. I let them be who they were, I listened, I disagreed and I never shut up.

It's so easy to surround ourselves with people just like us. People who worship like us, vote like us, listen to the same music as us. There is value in that type of community, but more than that, you've got to throw yourself into the most uncomfortable situations to gain your own identity. I loved all of Eboo Patel's book, but the section that spoke most to me was as he was trying to convince the leaders of various religious organizations to let their youth engage in conversation with youth from other religious backgrounds. Before Patel could explain his own reasoning, I was outlining what my own response would have been. I wouldn't have my own secure identity politically [and well, theologically] had I not exposed myself to the other side. I need the other to determine in fact, who I was. We need the other. We might not agree with the other, we might not even understand the other, but if we both agree that we need each other [or more realistically, that neither of us is going away], then we can better build a society based on community, conversation and mutual respect.

It took a long time for me to get my crazy Republican friends to respect me. I think they do now, but even when they make silly comments on the HuffPost links I put on my Facebook wall, I know they want my opinion, and hell, they need it. [Or at least that's what I'll keep telling myself.]