Two Sets of Questions
A quick word of warning: This wanders. I may or may not edit it down. This has been one of those weeks when I have had way too much to think. (Hello from Nashville!) There's been a lot to unpack regarding the all or nothing approaches that seem to be the norm when it comes to how we see things from a grander philosophical or spiritual stance. This can have an effect on interacting with life, relationships, connections, and ultimately the seen and the intangible quantities that weave together temporal cellular units. Or something.
In a previous life, I was a substitute teacher. My favorite age group was the middle schoolers. They were at the cusp of the kind of self-awareness that could make teaching interesting. Seeing them gain theory of mind was extremely satisfying. What wasn't so much fun was the continual thirst for drama some of them had. To be specific, there were two little girls who were determined to stir something up every time I got called in to teach.
One day, they glommed on to the fact that I never said "under God." during the Pledge of Allegiance. To clarify, my decision to not say it was not a reflection of my beliefs. It was something I felt duty-bound to do as an adult who was charged with the care of the young people in my classrooms. To me, it was an abuse of my position as an authority figure to express a tenet of my own beliefs during what was essentially a declaration of civic responsibility. I never made a big deal about it, I just simply didn't say "under God."
While I figured it was personal choice and no biggie, my two little Mean Girls obviousloy felt differently. I was asked to go assist in a classroom by a teacher I hadn't worked with before. It seemed like an odd request because the subject was not really in my wheelhouse, but okay. I walked in to see Mean Things One and Two sitting at the desks closest to the teacher, smirks adorning their pinched little mugs.
The bell rang and the class settled in. Apropos of nothing, the teacher asked me if I had a degree. Inside, I did a thousand eyerolls and screamed. Yes, I did. It was an anthropology degree from a nearby uni and oodles of arts training at two other schools.
She paused. I wondered if she was going to ask me what anthropology was. Instead, she lobbed another question at me that made my eyebrows go up to my hairline.
"Where do you go to church?"
I paused, which gave the Mean Things the mistaken impression I was, I don't know, beaten? stumped? Maybe I was a bit flummoxed by the bald impropriety of it. I took a deep breath.
"Why would you ask me that in front of a room full of students?"
She looked shocked that I would clap back. She stammered for a moment and then said, "I was, um, they said, it was, I just..." Then she recovered herself. Like all bullies, it was about finding the lie she needed. "I wanted to get to know you."
Well, that was awkward. should I throw this person a lifeline?
"I'm not sure what you need me for, but I do have to prepare for the PM gifted classes. Oh, and for what it's worth, I served on the Student Interfaith Council at one of the unis I attended and was a student verger at our denominational house."
I stood there for a moment. How would she react? Would she apologize? Would she ask me what a verger was?
"Um. Oh. Okay." That was all she said.
I left the room. The Mean Things cooled it. The incident left a bad taste in my mouth. It actually the harshest line of questioning I faced while subbing. Students would go home and tell their parents about me and some would seek me out to see if I was going to turn their children into Godless adherents to the idea that we were all descended from monkeys.
My joking explanation of my degree, which was that I studied "monkeys, dead people, haints, and quilts," was too glib, bordered on smart alecky, and accomplished nothing. The most surprising thing was a mindset they shared with people at the skeptical end of the spectrum. Both groups often held the belief that it was all or nothing where those who worked with or in science resided when it came to religion. In short (Too late!) you could not work in any area of science and hold religious belief. It would lead many of us to ask ourselves if someone who devoted themselves to science could believe in God.
My answer to that is yes. My time at the front of the classroom inspired the answer I would come to give parents and students who asked me about it. How do they function and where do they sit in relation to each other in the hearts and minds of those of us who feel there is room for both in our mind palaces?
It's a dichotomy borne of personal choice and it is one that may inform our words and actions, but it is something that ultimately requires a bit of compartmentalization. Science and religion ask two very different sets of questions. Science explores the glorious mechanics of our world. It reveals the beauty of what we can conceive of our cosmos. Religion asks why and maybe even who if a personified God or Goddess is part of one's belief system.
I don't have a problem with this.
This comes up because people in my life who think and live at those ends of the thought spectrum are asking ride or die questions about my thoughts regarding my continued healing and the sometimes mystifying effect a chemical compound or a sentence can have over my well-being.
May 31. 2023
In a previous life, I was a substitute teacher. My favorite age group was the middle schoolers. They were at the cusp of the kind of self-awareness that could make teaching interesting. Seeing them gain theory of mind was extremely satisfying. What wasn't so much fun was the continual thirst for drama some of them had. To be specific, there were two little girls who were determined to stir something up every time I got called in to teach.
One day, they glommed on to the fact that I never said "under God." during the Pledge of Allegiance. To clarify, my decision to not say it was not a reflection of my beliefs. It was something I felt duty-bound to do as an adult who was charged with the care of the young people in my classrooms. To me, it was an abuse of my position as an authority figure to express a tenet of my own beliefs during what was essentially a declaration of civic responsibility. I never made a big deal about it, I just simply didn't say "under God."
While I figured it was personal choice and no biggie, my two little Mean Girls obviousloy felt differently. I was asked to go assist in a classroom by a teacher I hadn't worked with before. It seemed like an odd request because the subject was not really in my wheelhouse, but okay. I walked in to see Mean Things One and Two sitting at the desks closest to the teacher, smirks adorning their pinched little mugs.
The bell rang and the class settled in. Apropos of nothing, the teacher asked me if I had a degree. Inside, I did a thousand eyerolls and screamed. Yes, I did. It was an anthropology degree from a nearby uni and oodles of arts training at two other schools.
She paused. I wondered if she was going to ask me what anthropology was. Instead, she lobbed another question at me that made my eyebrows go up to my hairline.
"Where do you go to church?"
I paused, which gave the Mean Things the mistaken impression I was, I don't know, beaten? stumped? Maybe I was a bit flummoxed by the bald impropriety of it. I took a deep breath.
"Why would you ask me that in front of a room full of students?"
She looked shocked that I would clap back. She stammered for a moment and then said, "I was, um, they said, it was, I just..." Then she recovered herself. Like all bullies, it was about finding the lie she needed. "I wanted to get to know you."
Well, that was awkward. should I throw this person a lifeline?
"I'm not sure what you need me for, but I do have to prepare for the PM gifted classes. Oh, and for what it's worth, I served on the Student Interfaith Council at one of the unis I attended and was a student verger at our denominational house."
I stood there for a moment. How would she react? Would she apologize? Would she ask me what a verger was?
"Um. Oh. Okay." That was all she said.
I left the room. The Mean Things cooled it. The incident left a bad taste in my mouth. It actually the harshest line of questioning I faced while subbing. Students would go home and tell their parents about me and some would seek me out to see if I was going to turn their children into Godless adherents to the idea that we were all descended from monkeys.
My joking explanation of my degree, which was that I studied "monkeys, dead people, haints, and quilts," was too glib, bordered on smart alecky, and accomplished nothing. The most surprising thing was a mindset they shared with people at the skeptical end of the spectrum. Both groups often held the belief that it was all or nothing where those who worked with or in science resided when it came to religion. In short (Too late!) you could not work in any area of science and hold religious belief. It would lead many of us to ask ourselves if someone who devoted themselves to science could believe in God.
My answer to that is yes. My time at the front of the classroom inspired the answer I would come to give parents and students who asked me about it. How do they function and where do they sit in relation to each other in the hearts and minds of those of us who feel there is room for both in our mind palaces?
It's a dichotomy borne of personal choice and it is one that may inform our words and actions, but it is something that ultimately requires a bit of compartmentalization. Science and religion ask two very different sets of questions. Science explores the glorious mechanics of our world. It reveals the beauty of what we can conceive of our cosmos. Religion asks why and maybe even who if a personified God or Goddess is part of one's belief system.
I don't have a problem with this.
This comes up because people in my life who think and live at those ends of the thought spectrum are asking ride or die questions about my thoughts regarding my continued healing and the sometimes mystifying effect a chemical compound or a sentence can have over my well-being.
May 31. 2023