“The Monastery: Mr. Vig and the Nun”

I walk by a wonderful video rental store, called That’s Rentertainment, on my way to and from work. It has an amazing collection of foreign and independent films, anime, TV, and documentaries, as well as knowledgeable staff. The prices are good, too, so it often makes sense to take a chance on a movie I’ve never heard about before. One of these was director Pernille Rose Grønkjær’s, The Monastery: Mr. Vig and the Nun (Slottet, or The Castle in Danish).

The description won’t appeal to everyone, and at times it may seem slow or disjointed. But it’s an unexpectedly good movie.

The true story is about Jørgen Laursen Vig, who lives alone in the derelict Hesbjerg Castle near Odense. His lifelong dream has been to create a monastery. Nearing the end of his life he turns to Russia and invites the Russian Patriarchate to use his castle as the site. They send Nun Amvrosija and a few others to assess the situation and begin the process of creating the monastery. As anyone might suspect, there are good intentions in the beginning, but problems arise as it becomes more a reality.

Through these events the film explores friendship, and what Allan Berg Nielsen describes in an excellent essay as The Manifold Nature of Love. It’s about life dreams, loss, and the challenge of opening up to others. Grønkjær (see photo), the director, is the interviewer, and becomes entwined at times in these questions.

At one point, Vig becomes frustrated with Nun Amvrosija. They argue about trivial things, while not addressing the larger issues. Perhaps he feels he’s losing control of the project. Referring to her, he says:

Vig: It’s hard to argue with people who are always right. Who don’t …
Grønkjær (interviewing): What if she came here just as much for you as for the monastery?
Vig: For me? I don’t know how to react to that. It’s the project we’re talking about, not me. Because that’s not what is needed.

A little later he grows discouraged, and puzzled:

Vig: I can’t solve all the problems.
Grønkjær: It’s not a problem, Vig.
Vig: Perhaps they’re problems you women have.
Grønkjær: We haven’t any problems.
Vig: You have feelings, or whatever. Things like that are not my business. I stay out of it.

That excerpt suggests the movies is about gender. It is, but one could also say that it’s about age, religion, nationality, language, and more than anything, about people trying to come together about things they both want, but struggle to achieve.

Nun Amvrosija writes to Mr. Vig:

Dear Mr. Vig, We were together for almost five years. We were very different, yet we were doing the same thing. We often disagreed with each other. But the Lord directs everything in His wisdom. Our Lord laid this gift in your hands. A gift which I believe opened the gates of paradise to you. I wish for the kingdom of heaven and eternal peace. Dear Mr. Vig, servant of Our Lord.

Vig is not only a fascinating character in the movie, but must have been throughout his life as well. See his East-West Seminar at Hesbjerg, 1995.

Today the monastery is run by Nun Amvrosija. A Russian Orthodox priest comes from Copenhagen to carry out the services. The Russian Patriarchate and the Hesbjerg Foundation now set the future plans for the monastery.

“The Cucumber Season”

Just read an amusing, and ironically, informative essay in ACM Ubiquity, called “The Cucumber Season: Reflections on the Nature of Information When There Isn’t Any,” by Espen Andersen:

I would like to introduce a new term to the English language: “Cucumber season”. The term, from Norwegian, refers to the period from sometime in early June, when Parliament and the public schools recess, until mid-August when the schools start up again and people return from their summer holidays. The name of this season comes from the observation that during this period, newspapers have little to write about – since nothing much happens – and so are forced to report on non-news, such as outsized and/or weirdly shaped vegetables such as cucumbers. By extension, the term refers to newspaper articles as well – a padded-out news item of dubious importance and inflated headline is referred to as a cucumber.

ACM Ubiquity – The Cucumber Season: Reflections on the Nature of Information When There Isn’t Any.

Liberating Voices

Liberating Voices: A Pattern Language for Communication Revolution (MIT Press), edited by Doug Schuler will appear this coming December. The book contains 136 patterns designed to meet challenges of communication in a world of new communication systems and global connections. Patterns integrate theory and practice to address social and environmental problems through citizen activism. Each describes a problem and its context, a discussion, a solution, and links to other patterns.

The book was inspired by Christopher Alexander’s A Pattern Language, and is part of the Public Sphere Project. You can get a preview of the book and explore the network of patterns online.

a visionary manual rich in insights and directly useful in any attempt to connect people and information technologies in the quest for real democracy. This is a crucial book for our time. —Langdon Winner, Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute

a pattern language that can be used as a framework for rethinking how we build community and create a more humane, equitable future. —Nancy Kranich Former President, American Library Association, author of Libraries & Democracy

Pylori paradox

Heliobacter pylorisAre we beings who pass through a natural world, or are we part and parcel of it? Arthur Bentley asks that question in his 1941 essay, “The Human Skin: Philosophy’s Last Line of Defense.” He suggests that philosophers position the person on one side of a boundary (the human skin) and nature on the other. This artificial separation leads to confusion about cause and effect and about our place in the natural world.

Recent biomedical research supports Bentley’s rejection of the human skin boundary as an artificial distinction. One such set of findings has been called the “Pylori paradox.”

Robin Warren and Barry Marshall were awarded the Nobel Prize for their work showing that Helicobacter pylori, causes inflammation of the stomach lining, and potentially ulcers and stomach cancer. The bacterium, H. pylori has been a resident of the human stomach for thousands of years, is still common in the US, and up to 90% of adults in developing countries may be infected.

Improved living conditions and increased antibiotics use have led to a decrease in H. pylori infections. this sounds good, but as fewer children carry the bacterium, asthma incidence has risen. Recent research has also shown that while H. pylori harms the stomach, it protects the esophagus: Continue reading

Predictable teaching

flowersA colleague writes about a workshop she co-presented recently, in which participants generated their own questions and engaged in guided inquiry. The workshop went well and generated plenty of debate (one of its goals), but “some liked it more then others.” Knowing the presenters, I’m confident that the workshop was a big success, but there was clearly variation in how successful it was for different participants.

That kind of variation, or unpredictability, is what leads some teachers to prefer methods with clearly-defined objectives, carefully-orchestrated procedures, and techniques for keeping everyone “on task.” Methods like that, are seen as more predictable, hence easier to measure, repeat, and guarantee results.

But things are not always as they seem. When the emphasis is on the procedure, and not on the student’s own inquiry, one can ensure that the procedure is executed faithfully. The formal lecture is the epitome of that, with the timing and mode of delivery all specifiable in advance. But the student learning can actually be far less predicitable. When students are in a lecture hall, or even going through a highly-structured exercise, their minds can be far away. The predicitability for the teacher is matched by unpredictability for the learner.

On the other hand, when students are supported in their own inquiries, the teacher’s job can feel very unpredictable, and because of that scary, and even unprofessional. It can be unpredictable for the students as well, because true inquiry can lead into unknown territory. But what goes on in the interaction among students and teachers becomes more visible and manageable. Collaborative inquiry allows engagement with the student’s thought and action, while the so-called “structured lesson” may obscure what students really think and feel. When students’ work is highly constrained, we’re left with little insight into their learning; teaching becomes totally unpredictable.

Our quest for certainty in teaching thus leads us to adopt methods that actually increase the uncertainty. But there is no way to ensure predictable teaching and learning. As Amos Pettingill says in The White Flower Farm Garden Book (referring to a zone chart for planting):

As a guide for the experimentation we so freely encourage, the table opposite will be helpful. We must caution, however, that it is rife with half-truths–despite our best efforts at disclosure. We are dealing here with living things whose colors, habits, and general constitutions will vary with locale and with the skill of the individual gardener. This unpredictability, which strikes terror into the heart of the beginner, is in fact one of the glories of gardening. Things change, certainly from year to year and sometimes from morning to evening. There are mysteries, surprises, and always, lessons to be learned. After almost 40 years hard at it, we are only beginning.

The whole world is watching?

The US employed a “pre-emptive strike” in Iraq in March 20, 2003, which didn’t go so well, not to mention being a crime against humanity. But at home during the conventions, so-called “pre-emptive strikes” have done a good job of stifling protest and minimizing media coverage. These occurred during marches and even before the Convention began.

One of the protestors at the Republican National Convention (RNC) in St. Paul said, “the whole world is watching,” but that’s just not the case today as it was in 1968.

[Youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i6al8Q7pRK8%5D
Mainstream media coverage:

Police raid RNC protest sites in Twin Cities
Mass show of peaceful dissent soon makes a violent descent
Police fire chemical agents, projectiles at RNC protesters

Raccoon invasion

raccoon-4_0previewI awakened around 3 am last night to a large racket inside our house. Being the only one there at the time, it didn’t take long for even my groggy brain to understand that there was an intruder. Actually it sounded like a large gang of clumsy intruders, perhaps those who flunked Stealth in burglary school.

Although I sensed a problem quickly, it took me a longer time to get my body to move to do anything about it. How many were there? Mightn’t a wise response be to pull the covers over my head? Probably the best response would have been to call 911, but in my state I couldn’t think that far.

So, I pulled on some shorts and moved cautiously in the direction of the last sound I’d heard. I was relieved, and then distressed, to see the large screen from a skylight lying on the floor. This meant I was probably dealing with a raccoon and not a person. On the other hand, I didn’t relish dealing with a raccoon at that time of night, either.

potteryI then saw that a large, iron plant stand had been toppled, breaking pottery and seashells. But there was no raccoon. I moved to our dining room, where I saw that he/she/they had upended a candle chandelier. But where was the culprit? There was no sign of the offender, so I started systematically searching, closing off each room once I’d determined that it was intruder-free. Finally, I found him, pretending to be a bear rug next to the fireplace. I say “him” not based on a close inspection, but because he was huge! It’s no wonder that he managed to force the screen through.

By now, I was mostly awake, but also clueless about what to do next. I had a broom, and considered a frontal attack, but then remembered that he might carry rabies or distemper, not to mention large teeth and claws. I tried reasoning with him, but he just stared back at me. Finally, I decided on a lure-him-out approach. I cut up an apple and left sections, one near him and others 10 feet apart leading to the front door, which I’d propped open, and then some on the porch. It did occur to me that I’d just created a delightful invitation for his buddies to come join him. Still, it seemed worth the risk.

Despite all the apple sections, he just stared back. I couldn’t tell whether he was hurt or just frightened. I know I was the latter and worried about the former.

I was pretty sure that he wouldn’t move while I was standing there. So I went upstairs and then online, checking out phone numbers for animal control and websites on raccoon management. I came down to check on him, but still no movement. I did it again a half hour later. And again. That probably slowed the process, because the next check showed that he had left. Or at least left his fireplace rug position.

I closed up and went to bed. I made sure the bedroom door was firmly shut, because I wasn’t convinced that he was really gone, or that he was the only one.

Morning showed that the evacuation procedure had worked. But it also revealed that he’d made an amazing mess in a short time. There was raccoon scat in two different places. Objects were overturned. raccoon scratches and smell everywhere.

plant-standI’m sure that my nighttime visitor was from the clan that earlier invaded our pool house. They had cut a hole in the roof on the back side where it was hidden by trees. They then settled in to a project of chewing rafters, destroying electrical work, and embedding their odor in the wood. It took a major construction job to recover from that.

This visit was probably notice that if we close off one option, they can just move in to share our quarters. I don’t know what they have planned next, but I’ll be ready.

Growing our food with sewage

One fifth of the world’s food is now grown in urban areas and for half of the urban fields the only source of water is untreated city sewage. Thus, according to a recent study from the International Water Management Institute (IWMI), one tenth of the world’s food is now grown using raw sewage.

Sewage abroad

Raw sewage brings heavy metals, pathogenic bacteria, and worms. But the water is necessary for the plants, and the sewage contains nitrates and phosphates, which promote plant growth. In many areas the use of city sewage has become necessary to prevent starvation. This is just one reminder of the consequences of our unjust global economic system and of the interconnections among water supplies, waste treatment, agriculture, the environment, and economic development.

Sewage at home

But the issues about sewage and agriculture are not confined to crowded cities in developing countries. In most of Europe and North America, about half of the sewage sludge is now spread on farmland, but after treatment that breaks down most of the complex organic molecules and kills most of the pathogens. A major contribution of US industry and the Environmental Protection Agency, has been to promote the term “biosolids,” for the treated stuff, which sounds much better than “sewage,” “sludge,” or “shit.” But despite the name change, we know little about the health and environmental effects of using it.

A report in 2002 from the National Academy of Sciences says that unsafe pathogens and chemicals remain in biosolids. No epidemiological studies have been done to show whether spreading them on land is safe for agriculture workers, nearby residents, or food consumers. In short, we don’t know whether we’re better off than the 10% getting the raw stuff.

Experimental sewage

Meanwhile, biosolid experiments are underway. Could sludge be a fix for hazardous lead paint by lowering the the rate at which lead enters the bloodstream and circulates to organs and tissues? A study asking that was conducted recently on a vacant lot in East St. Louis next to an elementary school. The 300 students were black and almost entirely from low-income families. It’s not clear how the residents could make informed decisions about participating in the study, given the NAS report that no studies have ever been done on its safety.

Where is the public?

Issues such as this never get mentioned in political campaigns, and rarely make the mainstream news. They’re unpleasant to think about, and solutions might require changes in lifestyle or large expense. Most of us are so confused that we can’t even frame the questions. Nevertheless, these issues deserve more attention as part of the world we’re making for ourselves and our children.

Writing in 1927, John Dewey (in The Public and Its Problems) noted that “The public is so confused and eclipsed that it cannot even use the organs through which it is supposed to mediate political action and polity.” In contrast to Walter Lippman, who argued for a knowledgeable elite to address complex problems, Dewey saw full participation in civic life as essential:

We have the physical tools of communication as never before. [But] the thoughts and aspirations congruous with them are not communicated, and hence are not common. Without such communication the public will remain shadowy and formless, seeking spasmodically for itself, but seizing and holding its shadow rather than its substance. Till the Great Society is converted into a Great Community, the Public will remain in eclipse.

I doubt that sewage will become the rallying call for the Great Community, but Dewey was annoyingly vague about what that call might be. What’s clear is that we need to find better ways to create the kind of democracy in which people really participate and which addresses the most basic problems we all face.

See also:

World’s farmers turn to raw sewage for irrigation – health (New Scientist)

Sludge tested as lead-poisoning fix (AP)

Sewage Sludge Standards Need New Scientific Basis (NAS)

Is Finland cheating on international tests?

International comparisons of school systems have become a sport, maybe not so universally engaging as the Olympics, but still of high interest to policy makers in education. There are many reasons to question the assumptions behind these comparisons and the way that they are carried out. Nevertheless, they give a rough indication of how school systems are doing in relative to one another.

For example, OECD’s Program for International Student Assessment (PISA) has shown that the best performing countries do much better than the worst. Moreover, the same countries are perennial leaders: Canada, Finland, Japan, Singapore, South Korea. But there may be a flaw as serious as any Olympics scandal—a case of cheating!

Laat year, McKinsey, a major consulting company, asked “why?”—why do some school systems produce students who regularly perform so well on international tests? They issued a report: How the World’s Best-Performing School Systems Come Out on Top.

There were a number of interesting findings. One was that Finland, which regularly tops the list, has largely dispensed with national examinations. They have no formal reviews and keep the results of informal audits confidential. They devote their school days to teaching and learning.

Meanwhile, the US is on an ever-expanding testing binge. A study from QED found that over a quarter of teachers report spending more than an hour a day preparing students for standardized tests. Nearly half of teachers believe standardized tests negatively impact student learning. More than three-quarters of teachers report being evaluated based on student test scores, even though they rank this as the least effective method.

An increasing percentage of class time is now spent testing students. A much bigger portion is spent preparing for the tests. And to a large extent the entire curriculum has been devoted to testing in just reading and basic mathematics.

The net result is that US students don’t have the same opportunity to learn that students in Finland have. While Finnish students engage in critical thinking, reasoning, arts, science, history, and much more, ours in the US spend time being tested or drilling on basic skills to prepare for the test.

So, my question is: Is it fair to compare Finnish and US schools? Of course, Finnish students can do better if they spend more time learning. But isn’t that cheating? Shouldn’t they have to be tested just as much? Shouldn’t the teachers and principals there be subject to the same score-driven evaluations? Shouldn’t their curriculum be restricted just like ours?

International comparisons make no sense if Finland is allowed to maintain a system built around highly-qualified, well-supported teachers (as McKinsey shows), a full curriculum, and a valuing of learning, while the US requires its schools to dumb-down to the misleadingly named “No Child Left Behind.” Let’s level the playing field and make it equally hard for Finnish students to learn!

Tom Chapin’s Not on the Test offers a musical version of this argument.

TagCrowd, make a tag cloud from any text or website

TagCrowd, created by Daniel Steinbock at Stanford University, is a clever new web application for visualizing word frequencies by creating a tag cloud (or text cloud). It’s fun to play with and has a number of interesting possible uses.

I made the one on the right from a selection of Emily Dickinson poems. One thing that stands out is her use of the word “stop,” as in:

Not In Vain
If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.

Tag clouds provide a visualization for navigation on Web 2.0 sites with user-generated metadata (tags) as on this blog. TagCrowd enables this for any text file, by automatically generating tags. You could give it the file name for a secret document you’ve just found, tell it the url for your favorite news website, or paste in the text from the novel you’re writing.

The application can be used in various ways (list from the TagCrowd site):

See the tag cloud for my own cv on the left above. What strikes me there is how I need words of four and five syllables, when Emily Dickinson could say so much in words of one syllable! Stop.