Experiments show how an overwhelming majority, more than 75 percent, want the bad news first. I will do the contrary because what just happened in Asheville, North Carolina is colossal. On July 14, the City Council unanimously approved reparation measures for black residents. The penultimate of a nine-bullet resolution states how the Asheville City Council, “seeks to establish within the next year, a new commission empowered to make short, medium and long term recommendations that will make significant progress toward repairing the damage caused by public and private systemic Racism.” Systemic racism is a cancer, a triple helix seemingly rooted in the land, before the United States was even a republic.
Maya Angelou said it best, “As long as you’re breathing, it’s never too late to do some good.” However, reparations are more than just “doing good.” Moreover, independent of a person’s stance on the matter, how reparations would work begs the question. Especially considering the United States is unable to agree on whether to wear a mask or not during the COVID-19 pandemic.
Early in the Spring, the World Health Organization (WHO), said there was no evidence that wearing a face mask would protect the general public from catching the virus. They since have reversed this decision. The Center for Disease Control (CDC) early on also did not recommend face masks for those that were not sick. They too went on to say the converse and that everyone should wear one, at all times in public. On July 20, Trump went so far as to tweet, “It’s Patriotic to wear a face mask.” This, after he balked donning a mask for months, and fueling an American obsession with individualism. Some would go so far as to claim it is their constitution freedom to remain unmasked.
As of July 17, Johns Hopkins University, reported 3,105 people died in Georgia as a result of the coronavirus. That is about one thousand more deaths than the entire country of Argentina. Meanwhile, Governor Brian Kemp opposed the Atlanta Mayor Keisha Lance Bottoms, contradicting the order against mask mandates. All the while, people are caught in the crossfires. Many just wishing for an erasure of so much uncertainty and political “mask-uerading.”
Another bit of good news is the fact that human beings are resilient. Better days are ahead, even if the lenses we look out are fractured, smudged, or foggy. The greatest of fire begins with a spark. For now, my eyes are on Asheville!
A troop of monkeys skits across the barren beach. A few others spy me from above on the branches of trees which attach alongside the precipice of the rock’s face. Limestone karsts covered in jungle rise hundreds of meters out of translucent waters. A rock climbers paradise, yet there surprisingly are signs threatening a 1000 baht fine if climbed. From first view, it is easy to see why Phang Nga was declared a protected national park since 2002. More than 42 islands jut out of the water, their extraordinary shapes examples of erosion. They too give credence to the name, Phang Nga literally translated from Malay to mean, “heathen, pagan, or primitive people.” The area, 400km2 definitely maintains an allure of “primitive.”
Shade is cast by trees hanging out over the water. The tide measured in the colors of the rock. The depths below easy to discern as the blues change from light to dark. Hornbills screech in their distinguishable call, a much higher treble than the apneatic bass sound, a gurgling sound as water is pulled into caverns below and air pushed out. The earth clearly breathing. Another layer of acoustics is provided by the cicadas, their intermittent shrill droning, the result of a vibration from a ribbed membrane of their torso. Nature’s soundtrack.
From time to time, small fish hurdle in arcs across the water’s surface; likey evading a predator. Even lesser pisces appear, but as one large organism. They jet in tightly knit groups by the thousands. Rising up, sometimes breaking the tension of the water, are several species of jellyfish. They suspend themselves as they pulsate forward. Their path buoyant, akin to a butterfly’s effortless float and glide. One species of jellyfish stands out as my favorite, for its beauty, not invasivity. Phyllorhiza punctata, has almost as many names as it does dazzling white crystalline spots. Native to the southwestern Pacific, it is also known as the Australian Spotted Jellyfish, Floating Bell, Brown or even White-spotted Jellyfish. Approximately 20 inches in diameter, an individual jellyfish is able to filter as much as 13,000 gallons (50,000 liters) of seawater per day. The downside being, they consume zooplankton, the food necessary for the survival of native species. Not to mention their painful sting.
Entering a cave revealed at low tide, refuse washes up. A message from the sea, as if to say, “humans keep your own waste.” Numerous plastic bottles make up the flotsam. Was it the naivety of my youth to think how a bottle in the ocean brought luck and would likely contain a message. Or, are we just polluting our waterways far more today?
We cannot let convenience disconnect us. Only a decade in existence, applications like Uber and Grab, or Ola Cabs and Didi Chuxing in India and China, allow for ease of travel. Some even now offer the opportunity to order food and deliver groceries to your door. Yet, with such efficiency, it is however possible to default and adopt a more Miranda Rights experience. You have the right to remain silent. Yes, it is possible to order, confirm, chat, and pay without a single omit verbal exchange with the driver. A spendy fare, the erasure of humanization. The loss of person-to-person encounters, a fading of life’s colors. Harrowing stories untold. Where mere anecdotes not only revealed beauty, but often were enough to reignited hope. Now, passengers and driver sometimes sit in silence. Non-experiences much like what we have when we pass through a toll booth. The end instead of the means. The destination everything.
Yet, we can have efficiency and humanization. Curiosity and a few questions are a start. Not long ago I remember how I learned form a driver about not only how large the Ethiopian population was in the greater Denver area, but the greater context of why. I also remember how my Armenian driver in New York City made most of his money from remotely mining Bitcoin on servers in Iceland. And these were just two rides. Remember, everyone has a story is at the crux. Simply put, are we interested?
An icon today who represents all things slow, is the passionate and wise, National Geographic fellow, Paul Salopek. Walking the earth, his joy is in meeting people. As he listens to stories of the people he meets, they surely are interested in his. Not every day do you meet someone walking 21,000 miles and in their 8th year of putting one foot in front of the other!
Shwepyinan, Taunggyi Maukmae, or Papawaddy? Which would you choose? The three are leading brands of thanaka, a traditional skin conditioner used for centuries in Burma (Myanmar). Thailand shares more than just geopolitics and a 1,000+ mile border with their western neighbor. Routinely I have crossed paths with Burmese people, often curious as to what that “stuff” was on some people’s faces. Was it sacred, a tradition steeped in purpose and history? Should I avert my gaze? Though I wanted to know more, something else surely caught my attention and I always forgot to look deeper. Maybe unconsciously it was my fear that beneath the custom of applying tanaka, there was a dark sanctity. Possibly a way to protect from the evil spirits that lurked?
At various temples throughout Thailand it is customary to read signage of how best to behave. One common literal translation reads, “Polite people are welcome.” As if to say, “All you rude people stay away!” This usually has something to do with how to dress; no shorts, and the importance to just error on the side of respectfulness. Being a relative newcomer to Thailand, I joyfully take a stance of thoughtful observer. Observer, not scrutinizer as sometimes my wife’s nudges or, or better yet jabs, replace a need to say, “don’t stare.” And so I nonchalantly look on in wonder, as I often did when I once again saw a “decorated” face, coated in yellowish tinted patterns. “There must be a reason for this?” I would reckon.
So, nearly after a year and countless encounters, finally I looked into it and here is what I found.
Not being one to invite skin cancer, I often lather my face in layers of skin cream. Operating under a philosophy of superlative, the thicker the better. So much so, that sometimes my only worry is that I might be mistaken for a mime. Scootering around Southern Thailand I grew increasingly more comfortable with my blank canvas of a face. Of course there are not too many oversized Western men dressed as mimes touring the countryside. Yet, here my coated face seemed to blend in in a way. This was because so many women, and sometimes children and men, were equally smeared. Theirs a different hue, likely done for beauty, but for many, their utilitarian purpose the same as mine; to protect from the relentless tropical rays.
Traditionally, 35 years is what is considered a mature thanaka tree. Then it is ready to yield a quality product, often small logs which are sold individually or in small bundles. However, the process is now hurried, with some trees harvested in as little as 7 years. Nowadays it is not uncommon to purchase thanaka already in a paste or powder form. Yet, traditionally thanaka was simply bark, wood, or roots that were ground by a person into powder and then mixed with a bit of water. This natural sunscreen a far cry from the -ones, -enes, and -ates plastered to my face; chemicals like oxybenzone, avobenzone, and octisalate. Thanaka in its pure form also has a fragrance akin to sandalwood, unlike the fake coconut I smell.
Beauty clearly knows no boundaries. As the pervasive consumer culture chomps up thanaka, consumers are as likely as I, to not understand thanaka’s origins, cultural significance or that even that it has been in use for more than seven centuries. Meanwhile thanaka continues to make an indelible mark as an international cosmetic, however 100% thanaka may not be what is actually purchased. Amazon and Etsy both feature vendors selling thanaka products. The first item I looked, a skin cream at had a laundry list of ingredients; thanaka extract didn’t appear until the 25th ingredient! Again, present were the -ones, -enes, and -ates; dimethicone and glyceryl stearate the two leading ingredients.
As thanaka continues to grow throughout southeast Asia, it is especially prevalent in Thailand and Singapore. One Thai business, British Dispensary, spent close to six million USD just to market one of their product lines featuring thanaka. Within Burma, the use of thanka varies. After a victorious Bamar majority junta, thanaka even became a sort of institutional expectation of dress code in schools. Note, this was forced acculturation and rather dark. If none of this is enough, recently a Yangon-based virtual reality company launched its augmented reality on Facebook, allowing viewers to apply thanaka to their images. Within a month, over 100,000 faces featured thanaka!
So, there you have it. Sacred? Sunscreen? Beauty product? Shwepyinan, Taunggyi Maukmae, or Papawaddy? The choice is yours.
Visitors prepare to cross Chao Phraya Sky Park, the world’s first public park spanning a river.
Chao Phraya, often translated as “River of Kings,” is the carotid artery. Without it, there would be no Bangkok. The very origins of the name Bangkok being, “village on the stream.” Pumping from the central plains to Bangkok, the Chao Phraya travels over 200 miles before emptying into the Gulf of Thailand. Along its course, it feeds the myriad klongs, or canals. Bangkok alone has over 1600 miles of these canals. Weathered wooden houses built on stilts line the waterways. Their charm lost as the tides recede, unveiling the grime beneath. The klongs are everything. They supply water to homes, allow for transportation, and even are a means to subsistence fishing. Similar to a king or queen’s hegemony, the River of Kings, is dynamic.
Since the mid-16th century, the Chao Phraya has borne its share of rerouting and diverting. If for no other reason than the fact that water is what allows life to prosper. Surprisingly, the Chao Phraya watershed covers more than one-third of the nation’s land. Crops, usually rice, depend on the inundating. Further, for generations the Chao Phraya has allowed for movement. Of materials but also people. Barges pull materials up and downriver and for approximately .60 USD passengers climb aboard ferries, commuting into and out of the city.
Khets and Khwaengs
Bangkok is so large that it is subdivided into 50 districts (khet). These are then further subdivided into approximately 180 khwaeng. More complicated than New York’s five districts or boroughs. One glance at a map and the most intrepid cartographic adventurer’s head is left spinning. A sprawling knotted maze, it does not remotely resemble a grid-design. Having more than tripled the population in my lifetime alone, the rapid growth does not evidence strong urban planning nor regulation. Unlike a city like Paris, designed for the pedestrian with its broad boulevards and green spaces, Like many large cities in the developing world, growing so fast comes inevitably with challenges in avoiding chaos. Function winning out over form, leaves an unfortunate wake of severe pollution and congested roadways.
Rising out of the tropical steam is a concrete jungle of sorts. A city no foreigner, local, or even veteran taxi driver could fully “know.” The rate of change simply does not will it. Rather, certain neighborhoods become more familiar than the next. One such area is called Chao Phraya Riverside. For a visitor to Bangkok, it is virtually impossible to avoid this area. Here is where the historic temples and palaces are, as well as many of the fanciest hotels. Likely too, this is where a visitor will hop a ferry to cross the river or just enjoy a sunset cruise.
The World’s First Public Spanning a River
Out on the Chao Phraya, life appears to slow down. I’m unsure if it is the slow speed of the boat and the water beneath us, a substitution for our feet. A break from the seemingly infinite and relentless concrete. Maybe it’s just the gentle wind in our face or an ability to see all around. With 14 million residents making up Bangkok’s metropolitan area, it makes sense that in Bangkok alone, more than a dozen bridges cross the Chao Phraya. Automobiles, the metro, and boats all make the crossing, yet recently foot travel was an added means of transport. In an attitude of “never too late,” June of 2020 commemorated the opening of the world’s first public park spanning a river, at Chao Phraya Sky Park. In an effort to promote urban well-being, pedestrians are afforded the opportunity to walk or cycle across the river. Remarkably, the project makes use of an abandoned Skytrain project and estimably is parallel to an existing bridge steeped in history.
A Confluence of History
The bridge over River Kwai, just 80 miles northwest from Bangkok, tends to receive more press than any other bridge in Thailand, if not the world. Understandably, because how many bridges have Oscar-winning epic war films screenplayed after them? Yet, the Bridge over River Kwai is not the only bridge of significance in Thailand. The Memorial Bridge, like many place names in Thailand, has several titles. Phra Phuttayotfa Bridge in Thai, is named after the first monarch of the 18th century Chakri Dynasty, King Phutthayotfa Chulalok (Rama I). However, sometimes the name is shortened to just Saphan Phut, Phut Bridge, or even Buddha Bridge. Regardless of moniker, the Memorial Bridge is a confluence of history and is right in the heart of Bangkok. It was the first bridge to cross the Chao Phraya (1932), eleven years before the harrowing construction of the Bridge over River Kwai. Though not built entirely out of steel and free of the barbaric construction by the hands of slaves, the Memorial Bridge reflects the early ties between Thailand and Japan. It would operate for approximately a decade, before the world was thrust into war. As possibly can be predicted, with Japan as an ally to Thailand, the Memorial Bridge would become a target. Though initial bombing raids in 1944 by the United States were not successful, less than a year later, the bridge was hit and partially destroyed.
Uncovering History Without Digging
Amidst Bangkok’s concrete is story. Many stories do not even require any “digging.” Rather, a bit of adventure in your step and an opening of eyes and ears, likely will reveal the unimaginable. Answers to questions begging to be asked. Like, how exactly did the Ayutthaya Kingdom maintain more than four centuries of rule? Or, where did the idea come from to adorn what’s considered the most beautiful temples in Thailand, Wat Arun, with Chinese porcelain the Chinese used as ballast in their boats? Personally, I want to uncover why so many Buddha statues given in veneration at shrines, end up being headless.
I was six years old when I first heard how when one points a finger in blame, three fingers inexorably point back. A sort of stepping one foot forward but three back. This is no way is to rebuff the urgency needed in addressing problems and positively effecting minds, hearts, and hands. The birthing of more fair systems and societies. But, in doing so, we cannot resort to being six years old. Instead it behooves us to follow the wisdom of Cathering Pulsifer, “focus on fixing the problem, never focus on the blame. Problems are only resolved when solutions are sought.”
The month of June was a wellspring of anger. In the first week alone, hundreds of thousands of protestors chanted, “No Justice, No Peace,” on three continents. The boiling point surpassed, no more tolerance of or for “the system.” Institutions steeped in societal problems and rooted in inequity. By the middle of the month, the protests only gained momentum, giving no sign of yielding.
On a more molecular level and within the scope of international education, on June 8 an article titled,“Black Lives Should Have Always Mattered: An Open Letter to Search Associates,” caused reverberation. The sort felt all along one’s spine when fingernails drag across slate. Ironically, even the blackboard replaced by the white board! The author, Safaa Abdelmagid, was compelled to respond after Search Associates published a letter saying, “we are passionate and determined to continue asking the right questions, joining in the conversations, and striving to be a part of the solution.” Abdelmagid said she felt the words were neither genuine nor sincere. Instead there appeared, “borrowed, designing and frankly, audacious…They seem to be an afterthought; the reactionary stance of a traditional, predominantly white male organization that is scrambling to jump on the bandwagon.”
Abdelmagid proceeded to portray Search Associates in the darkest of lights, punishing with blame,
“For thirty years you have helped white male administrators bounce around the world exchanging headships, uninterrupted, some with heinous scandals trailing behind. You stood by watching white privileged teachers getting hired for being in the same fanbase of a football or hockey team as the head of the school, or the familiarity of shared white cultures, hometowns and cities. You have witnessed schools operate as mid-twentieth century colonial schools in order to keep their local expatriate populations happy…”
Before closing Abdelmagid offers a ray of hope, though embittered by her experience. She asks Search Associates to start being honest and to acknowledge their shortcomings. In closing Abdelmagid implores, “Ask for feedback and answers from those who know, those who have been crippled by your lack of responsiveness towards them. Own your privilege and use it to serve those who truly deserve it.”
Serendipitously, or not, the international school where I am employed issued a similar statement. The motivation for the titled statement, “The Responsibility of an International School,” feels entirely authentic. In the first quarter of the 2019-20 academic year, I remember being a part of a professional development session where the head of school himself spoke from the heart about how we as an institution needed to better understand the experiences of others but also to ensure far greater diversity of our faculty. With the feel of a manifesto, it reads, “We are committed to adding our voice and to confronting racism, wherever it exists, through education and advocacy.” A clear focus upon solutions.
However, within days if not hours, there was backlash. This time by former students.
Having taught social studies for over two decades, I am passionate about empowering students to be active and engaged participants and to commit to the ideals of democracy. Their pointed response a beautiful outpouring of passion. An honest plea to begin a conversation about how the school might “dismantle systems of oppression that feed into continued racial inequality.” A barrage of questions, 17 to be exact, were issued. For example, the second question challenged, “What steps can the school take to move beyond its Eurocentric social and curriculum focus in order to encourage a more diversified understanding of society that does not stem, explicitly or implicitly, from white superiority?” White superiority? Eurocentric social and curriculum focus? If anything, the school is challenged by maintain balance in demographics as a result of privileged host nationals. As for the curriculum, parents pay a high price for the International Baccalaureate so students, akin to the authors of the letter, are prepared for next steps in the U.K. or the U.S. Furthermore, how does Chinua Achebe’s, “Things Fall Apart” Eurocentric? If anything, it is diametrically opposite, as students examine the effects of European colonialism from an entirely different perspective. Or, how about “Beloved,” Toni Morrison’s masterpiece which earned a Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 1988? I would genuinely be interested in how themes of pain and the psychological effects of slavery, might fall under the claim of such literature being Eurocentric. Nonetheless, student voices are rightly being listened to and we all, as individuals and as an institution, can and need to be better.
While much of the world appears to be unifying in the spirit of creating a more just world, I look on in wonder as countries begin to open their borders to certain nations but not others. Where I live, the provincial borders slowly lifted but cautiously international borders remain closed. Yet, there is talk about countries entering into bilateral “travel bubble” agreements on tourism. The local economy severely depressed as a result of lost tourism revenues. Moreover, amidst the pandemic it is paramount xenophobia is not allowed to sneak in. Instead, a surplus of compassion is what the world needs now.
COVID-19 forced us all to hit the pause button. As we begin to push “play,” might our humanity surface, as leaders are poised to make difficult decisions but based in virtue and solidarity. Seldom do the headlines portray China in such a positive light, however a colleague living and working in China shared how the government graciously continued to extend visas under what was called the Chinese Humanitarian Visa. A 24-hour hotline, in English, also was available to answer any questions. This, but one example of solidarity.
Might 2020 be the nascence of more leadership from the heart. Passion hangs heavy in the air, as people imagine a tomorrow they long to live in. Changes bent on solutions, not blame, as millions get down on bended knee in silent protest. As if to say, “United we stand,” or unabashedly “kneel.” Yet, beyond renunciation or humble reverence, a groundswell of people is rising up, set on creating a fairer world for all.
Thankfully few questions strike with such indelibility but two recent ones by a seventh grader landed hard. Foreign at first, I was patient and let the seeds germinate, even though possibly sown with jagged teenage hormonal dissent.
“What’s the minimum?’ she asked with disgust.
and…
“You haven’t answered my question in chat!” (during Zoom class meeting)
“Oh, sorry. I was busy explaining what we are doing.”
On more than one occasion a student (actually, probably 5 different students over the course of virtually learning), either asked aloud or put in the chat, “Can I go to the bathroom?” I’m unsure if ever a question could wreak more of compliance. This certainly is something I endeavor to move away from.
Important to revisit purpose of learning (not to get a grade) and also timeliness in taking advantage of 2nd learning opportunities. Not to be overly focused on grades but to pay close attention. I received this e-mail two weeks into summer:
“Hello mr.piercy I got two beginning approaching and I want to improve my grade so can you explain to me what kind of things I need to improve on?”
Sleep less and commute more. These are not exactly selling points. However, lockdowns are being broken and the migration back to places of work is to commence; if it hasn’t already. Anxiety pours thicker through people’s veins, the anticipation lackluster to say the least. Lists of “What I’m Not Excited About” being scripted in invisible ink. Less time with family and more social pressure. Yet, chief atop my list, is not an aversion to “rules” and regulations, rather a mental fatigue as a result of attempting in good faith to keep everything straight. To abide, surely even more difficult than to even understand what schools and governments want. To return to some semblance of “normal,” but maintain distance, wear a mask, and don’t use athletic fields. All that seemingly makes us human, stripped down. The dependable formula seemingly changed. A squared plus B squared, for some reason now equals I squared. Might the “I” variable represent “illogical?” Or does it stand for “irrational?” Regardless, I find it helps to remind myself of three words, totalling but 10 letters.
“Just for now.” A sort of mantra.
A preliminary list of dos and don’ts
I Want to Be a YouTuber
I’ve been thinking a lot about the way how things panned out with “emergency learning,” a term I recently heard to replace “virtual learning.” We’ve done the best we can, yet even before it is over I reflect on how I might be more effective come the Fall and the start of another school year. With near 100% certainty elements of learning remotely will still be offered in addition to the traditional face-to-face. For families not yet reassured that schools are safe and for others that may be in remote locations. Chief amongst my endevourings is for compliance to be substituted for engagement. This leaves me with several ideas of what next to pursue, relative to methodologies that might prove more appealing to today’s learners. The intentional use of more video, including videos of me, as I emulate compelling strategies employed by YouTubers? Not only might this be more alluring, but it also is aligned with the evolution of learning anytime, anywhere and from anyone. Only in this case, from ME and asynchronously.
Michael Wesch, professor of cultural anthropology & world religions, is my inspiration in this. Breaking down the 4-walls of classrooms and taking learning out into the world, Wesch offers university students something a “little” different. His most recent video is titled, “Teaching Online by Going Offline: The Adventure Lecture.”
I Just Need to Finally Do it (Students and Digitally Portfolios)
More than 20 years ago I made a professional portfolio as part of my Masters work. It was in binder form, as this was before the widespread use of personal computers. From time to time I’ve considered picking back up on this idea, knowing the great benefits of a digital portfolio. I also knocked around the idea of students creating theirs too. However, like that box of stale cereal in the cupboard that we reach past, always for something tastier or fresher, I continually looked past the portfolio idea.
But not anymore.
Already wading waist-deep into the water, I continue to explore how I professionally can utilize the portfolio process. Further, finding it a definitive high-impact practice, it is something I want for students. The role it might play in empowering students is clear. Students are decision makers, as they curate their learning. It screams out, “Ownership!” as passivity morphs into action. Digital portfolios allow for authenticity, reflection, and an opportunity to showcase learning over time. My guru for all things digital portfolios is George Couros. He can found here: George
Maybe it makes sense for my first YouTube video to be on portfolios. Let’s see, how to make that combination memorable?
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