Memoirs from a rock star (supplemental)
I did a little prework yesterday that I didn’t mention earlier. I tossed out the statement, “If I built an inukshuk, maybe it’ll snow up here.” Of course, the word inukshuk is so alien and the contradiction of seeing snow during this season drew interest immediately. I spent time explaining what it was, but the lasting impression was inukshuk = snow god.
So the inukshuk went up today. Thanks to some gross encounters with rocks in our square, the pace slowed down – and I was on bucket brigade. So I maximized the slack time by selecting 8 choice stone and assembled my stone dude.
This turned out to be a most enlightening event. Some people viewed this creation as a stone idol. But nobody (and I mean nobody) knew what an inukshuk was – not even to see it! It was apparent how formative yesterday’s preambles actually were. This colloquial icon in northern cultures was as alien to the Americans as ground bay leaves are in Canada. I became very aware of the general condition of ignorance that exists on either side of the 49th. In this case, Canada and the US are next door neighbors, a country away. But is it any different in the neighborhoods we live in at home?
The Inuit people built inukshuks for a few purposes – they were used as navigational land marks (in a land where few natural landmarks exist), they were used to mark supply caches for the traveller and they were used to indicate direction of travel. They take two classic forms – one looks like a conical pile of rocks (like a stony tell); one looks like a stone humanoid (admittedly, like an idol). I do not know enough about them to determine which form was used for which purpose, but I could imagine the comfort in seeing a stone figure amidst a tundral biome where life forms are barely visible. Once an inukshuk was built, it was never dismantled – the people revered them so.
So what’s the point?
As a colleague once said, “If it quacks like a duck and looks like a duck, it’s probably a duck.” I agree that this is generally true. But plot that argument on a Venn diagram and you’ll find where the inukshuk experience of today rests – in the unshaded part. This was my approach to the discussion I had with Dr Schuler July 4th. "Are you prepared to accept another likelihood that is just as viable (and just as speculative)?"
My inukshuk was case and point. It looked like an idol. For that matter, it behaved like an idol >snicker<. Therefore, it must be an idol. … though I offered its true background to those who were interested, it seemed that snow god is what stuck. The notion of landmark, food cache and highway sign was not sensational enough to throw the stigma of snow god in an archaeological context.
So what? Well, I'm exercising my Hebrew tendancies by painting a picture.
To those students who read this, I encourage you to test the boundaries of your education. That is not to cast doubt on its content, but to understand the presuppositions of the deliverer. That’s the fun of higher learning. If you have played sports, consider this:
I learned to play racquetball from a guy far better than I. He barely had to move; I’d chase the ball all over the court. He’d never give me a break; I’d work hard resisting the urge to slug him because of it. But even though he won every game, I still scored points on him. Sometimes, it was from plays he’d least expect. Sometimes it was because he was resting on his laurels. But I got better.
I’m not suggesting that the classroom become a battle of wit nor that learning become a competitive sport. My point is that you chew hard on what you are being spoon fed. You never know if the the egg was boiled until you crack the shell ;)
Pax,
'o δοuλος

0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home