The Highest Form of Hope

Over the Christmas break I had the chance to read Freakonomics by Steven D. Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner. I had heard about it from the Daily Show a year or so back when Steven D. Levitt was a guest. Freakonomics is definitely an engaging read - It's probably the most fun I've had with statistics (not counting calculating Noah's ever increasing weight percentile).

The premise of the book is applying economic principles to everyday problems. One of the main focuses is understanding patterns of crime and poverty; but other interesting diversions question whether or not sumo wrestling is rigged, and what the name you've chosen for your child says about your socio-economic status.

It's not all fun and games with numbers however. There are sides to the causes of crime that aren't even mentioned. For example, Levitt and Dubner find a link between poor access to abortion and high crime rates - the same data probably could show that poor access to abortion is a reflection of poor access to healthcare in general. They raise interesting questions about links between crime and unwanted pregnancies, but applying economic principles to the worth of human beings was, in my opinion, offensive.

One of the foundations upon which the statistics are filtered is the idea that human behavior is governed by incentives. When considering cheating in sumo wrestling, it's kind of fun to think about it in economic principles, but when considering the success of white vs. black children in school, or how abortion can be linked to lower crimes rates, I really begin to question if incentives are all we're slaves to. What does it mean for morality if we are governed only by incentives? Does morality always benefit us (in the short run and long run) - is it really an incentive? Dubner and Levitt would probably say so.

Even though I strongly disagreed with the book in many instances (I still enjoyed it), I came two interesting realizations.

Number one: Your techniques, excessive worrying and Baby Einstein videos are useless! Levitt and Dubner would say that what matters most to your child's socio-economic success (this is how they chose to measure success - another disagreement) is who YOU are as a parent. I think that this idea reaches far far beyond mere paychecks and graduate degrees. It really made me think. What matters in parenting children is who you are. If you are an angry person, most likely your children will be angry. If you are a loving person, your children will be loving. You simply can't hide who you are - and your children will take on what you teach them in word and deed.

Number two: A far less important insight. I now know why I dislike my name. I had the feeling that my name held connotations I was uncomfortable with. I found it kind of a snobby name - "Jessica" - It makes me think of a Hotel Mogul's spoiled socialite daughter. And more recently, I found the name "Jessica" to sound a bit trashy, like the name of an adult entertainer. Paul would tell me "Nonsense! Jessica is a beautiful name." It's not the name itself I have a problem with, it is with the images that it conjures up in my mind. Well, according to Levitt and Dubner I was right. The name 'Jessica' thirty years ago was a "higher class" name - thus the image of the spoiled socialite. As it seems, names work their way down the social ladder through the decades until they become obsolete - like Myrtle, Ethel or Prudence. Today, 'Jessica' is on the lower rungs (thus the other image I will not repeat). Pretty soon 'Jessica' will be in the same category as 'Cindy', 'Misty', 'Dawn', and 'Bambi'. I've tried variations of my name (Jess - feel free to call me this; and Jessie - don't call me this), but none of them seem to work. I've got a wonderful middle name, "Averill"; but it's pretty hard to change what people call you after twenty-six years. Oh well. When I'm eighty all the celebrities will be naming their daughters Jessica.

Labels: books, economics, humour, names

Ged Quinn, Ghost of a Mountain, 2005 oil on linen

Yesterday, after a terribly overpriced meal at the Ivy (we were gauged by the Valentines day menu), Paul and I spent our Valentines evening at the monstrous eyesore known as Galaxy Cinemas (it looks like someone plopped a giant cardboard box in the middle of Saskatoon's downtown). I complain a lot for someone who tends to go out to see a movie once a week. I'm very lucky to have married a man with similar taste in cinema - I don't think I can remember the last time we had a disagreement over a movie (actually I can, it was Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon). From our deep hatred for The Postman and anything staring Matthew McConaughy, to our love of art flicks and foreign films like Momento and Goodbye Lenin - it's been good to have someone to watch movies with.

So last night we went to see Pan's Labyrinth. I would probably say that it is the best movie we've seen in a long time. Blood Diamond was disappointing for me, Children of Men and Stranger than Fiction are definitely wonderful movies - and we highly recommend them as well. I have yet to see Babel and the Queen; they are probably very good films to.

But I have to say that Pan's Labrynth was wondrously original - so unlike any other movie this year. I like what Ebert said in his review in the Chicago Sun-Times "It's a fairy tale for grown-ups".

Just like every fairy tale there is a princess, magic, a battle of good and evil, and three tasks to be completed. The story is set against the backdrop of post civil war Spain in 1944. Ofelia, a young girl travels with her pregnant mother to a military outpost where her evil stepfather, a Captain in Franco's fascist regime, is fighting communist guerillas in the hills. Ofelia escapes to an imaginary land in order to survive the horrors of war (the violence in this movie is extremely graphic and disturbing - this is not a movie for children).

Director Guillermo Del Toro draws the audience into the wonderful and terrible realms of both fairy tale and reality. The battle of good and evil rages in both arenas where characters must choose to either obey without question, or to stand up against injustice. The cinematography is stunning, and the story itself has a simple sweetness that does not detract from the stark realism necessary to address the evils of misogyny, abuse, and war.

In an industry that so often dumbs down stories so that the viewers imagination is rendered useless, this film instills wonder in the viewer - an experience that is all too rare. I absolutely loved this film!

Labels: movies

Labels: art

I don't usually blog about my life - my here and now (makes me feel a little exposed!). I'm one of those personalities that's always focussed on the future tense - I tried to grow up too fast and I take on too much at once. I have a million plans and dreams; most of them never come to fruition.

C.S. Lewis said that the only real place and time is the present. The present is where God's reality touches ours. God is not bound by time. He is present. The future and the past are not real in this sense. What a challenge for me.

So here is my very real present - bare of all my plans.

I am constantly searching for new ways to distract Sasha. He is, of course, my little sidekick and still has not mastered playing on his own. The only place he seems to be able to play by himself is the bathtub. Needless to say, he takes a bath once a day.

There is an definate upside to having a sidekick - Sasha is mommy's little helper. He fetches things for Noah, helps me set the table, helps unload the dishwasher, he's a little cook (he can even crack eggs!), a "babysitter" (in the literal sense as I found out today), and is very skilled at diaper disposal.

Noah is huge for just under five months (20 pounds to be exact). He's no longer satisfied with just nursing so he's on pablum twice a day. He's a very happy healthy guy and finds his older brother very amusing.

As for Paul, well, you can read his blog, but it gives no sense to how busy he really is. I find myself alone in the evenings most of the week - especially when hockey is in full swing. His days are filled with meetings, classes, reports, "visitation" (hanging out with jr high's), and just being present to kids - it takes a special kind of person to do this type of work.

And me? Well, some days I love staying at home, some days I hate it. Some days I feel like I'm just going through the motions, other days I feel a great sense of purpose and energy. I guess most people can relate to that. I started subbing again - that's been alright. I got to teach home-ec last week and that was a blast! I won't complain about the extra income, but it makes it hard to get into a routine during the week.

I'm involved (to some degree) with youth. I really enjoy "one-on-one" time with youth rather than the big Wednesday night program. Plus, it's just easier considering my stage in life. I help lead a small group, and I'm mentoring a grade twelve student. Both have been very rewarding and challenging. Especially mentoring. I'm mentored before, but I'm never felt quite as connected to my "mentee" as I do this time around. I've also never felt so inadaquate - maybe the two are connected?

I'm beginning a long-term art project, which I'm excited about. I'm meeting once a weeks with Mary Guenther to paint and I'm just about to start my first large painting in a series of six. I have no idea how long it will take to finish the project, but I'm guessing years. That's okay with me.

There I go, thinking about the future again. I guess I'm neither here nor there tonight.

Labels: family, life in general

I've now read through N.T. Wright's Evil and the Justice of God, and have promptly forgotten most of what I've read. I think I should have been taking notes.

I do remember some things though... In the final chapter Wright speaks on forgiveness - a topic very much necessary in a discussion of evil and justice. He rightly tributes the work of Bishop Tutu and the church in South Africa for the most important restorative act the church has taken part in the 20th century. The commission for truth and reconciliation brought together both the strong arm of white power and the members of black militia to name and confess the sins of apartheid. By this, victims and their families were given the chance to confront evil and forgive it - thus, robbing evil of its power. Without the commission for truth and reconciliation, South Africa would have no doubt slumped into a bloody civil war bent on revenge. The name of Bishop Tutu's book, Wright takes as the title for the chapter "No Future without Forgiveness". I agree with Wright whole-heartedly - this is what God’s reign looks like.

South Africa is not the only country with wounds left untended. We don't have to look very far to see the effects of force assimilation, racism, and segregation. In the latest issue of The Walrus, Larry Krotz takes a look at the government's 1.9 billion dollars set aside as cash settlements for the 80,000 surviving students of residential schools. It's hard to imagine that a cash settlement could lead to any real healing - in fact, some First Nations community leaders fear it will actually do more harm than good - enough money to cause problems, not enough money to actually do some good.

Residential schools can easily be named as the darkest event of Canada's history and Krotz right points to Saskatchewan as the "epicenter" for the broken relationship between the First Nations and the government of Canada. Aboriginal children (both First Nations and Metis) as young as six were taken away from their families and communities and placed into boarding schools in an attempt to civilize and "Christianize" them though Catholic and Protestant tutelage. Children would remain in residential schools for most, if not all of the year. They were often malnourished and susceptible to various diseased (especially TB). In the 1920's, a third of residential school students would never return home, their parents never told they were ill, sometimes never informed of their deaths. They lost their language, culture, and most traumatic, their relationships with their families. They were often not even allowed to communicate with their siblings attending the same school. Residential schools were a breeding ground for abuse (by staff and by older students) - essentially prisons, in which children were forced to work for half of the school day. The schools were not only harmful to children emotionally and physically, but they also failed to give any real education. Children were taught that their families were going to hell. They were shamed and ridiculed. They were robbed of the nurturing love of parents. They returned home institutionalized and disconnected from family and community.

Paul and I recently went to see the movie Children of Men. It is set in the mid 21st century where women, for whatever reason, are unable to bear children. The youngest people on earth are just past their teens. The audience is given a bleak picture of what the world would be like without children. It is hard to imagine, but for those living on reserve in the not so distant past, it was a reality. I often wonder at the hopelessness parents must have felt as their children were suddenly removed from day to day life.

The evil that was done was so great - and in the name of Christ. How much greater is the responsibility ours to ask forgiveness for sins committed by the church? Does it really matter what denomination or even what decade these sins were committed? Don't we give power to evil by refusing to recognize it? Don't we continue to look down in judgment upon the community we have wronged and continue to wrong? There is no hope of a restored relationship with Aboriginal people without confronting the past. If there's any doubt to what the mission of the church should be in Saskatchewan, I suggest that we should take a good look at South Africa while there's still time. The last generation of residential school survivors are in their fifties and sixties. It's time to name and confront the evil done to them.

Labels: Aboriginal issues, church, faith, forgiveness, residential schools