Strange Daze and Black knights.

 It is Saturday night and I'm ready to catch up so here we go:

Yes, there was maariv. A meager minyan was scraped together and I found this fascinating. usually these flights are over full of the religious sort but I guess that most people were concerned about landing 3 hours before Shabbos so the hardcore fanboys too the ealy AM flight so they could get home and watch other people shop and cook, Those of us with faith stayed in the US a little later and had to pull ourselves up by our relatively less frum bootstraps. Fortunately, it was a valid minyan. This was determined by the presence of two small boys running through and screaming while their father prayed and did nothing to discipline them.

Boarding began on time with an announcement that the elderly, people with disabilities and those with small children should board first. One thing it is important to note is that there are things that people flying to Israel don't care about. Tops on that list are such items as "waiting your turn" or "standing politely on a line waiting your turn." I, being a rule follower, allowed the rule of mass confusion to hold sway and I got on line also. What zone am I in? Your mother. That's what zone I'm in. Now take my boarding pass and move away. In Hebrew, that's like poetry. I figured I would ensure myself some overhead bin space by jumping the gun. I was partly right. The plane was mostly empty but miraculously, people not sitting in my row had already filled the bin dedicated for my seat. So I took someone else's spot. Tough nerts to them, I guess. The plane is a 787-9 Dreamliner and I was in 23H (an aisle seat, so I have freedom of egress and room to stretch one leg, but I get repeatedly smacked by anyone and anything walking by).

The preferred seat section does afford a little more leg room and a bit more reclining and it turned out that the seat next to me was empty so I had a bit more elbow room. Huzzah. There was a dog on board also but if he didn't complain about me, I figured I wouldn't complain about him. In the window seat in my row was the father of a current student. So we had an impromtu parent-teacher conference and I'm writing the whole trip off as a business expense. Winning! We taxied very slowly from the gate and did 30 minutes of extra waiting because there was a traffic jam ahead. Damn turnpike. Random thought? The Lior Suchard video needs to be changed. Maybe seeing once (twice) is amusing, but I have seen it too many times -- I'm starting to understand the Hebrew. Time to shake it up. 8:35 local time, we took off.

A lot of turbulence early on but after a bunch of minutes, that resolved. I put a blanket over my head and dozed. Truth is, maybe it was still turbulent after that, but I didn't notice. Dinner was served at about 10PM local (NJ) times. Rice with peas and carrots in it, plus 3 meatballs. Both parts of that word should be in quotes. Nuff said. I ate the chummus a bialy before I read the piece of paper that said that the bialy was real bread and not mezonos. So, um, oops. I skipped the mousse for fear of nuts. That made me sad. Then, blanket back on my head, extra pillow on my right and between the turbulence, the warm, full belly and the benadryl, I fell asleep. I'm sure I was smacked repeatedly by people passing but God is good and gave us the gift of antihistamines for just such an occasion. 

Fast forward to 4:30 AM (NJ time). Breakfast service. I was awoken by my internal clock which told me that something was happening and I was right. Something was happening. I let them serve me my food and then I got my tallis and tefillin and found a corner to daven in. There were certainly more than 10 men davening, but no one with anyone else so that was that. Maybe I missed the minyan they had anticipated at 3AM but if so, then so did everyone else. Back to the seat for breakfast. The tuna was the consistency of chopped liver, a definite "meh." The omelet was not the worst thing I have eaten. I enjoyed the water and a little bit of fruit and eschewed the bagel (once bitten, twice not). By the time I was cleaned up, brushed teeth etc, there was nary an hour left to the flight! I had watched nothing. I missed my chance for a cuppa but merrily we fly along. Life at 39,000 feet (or 2.2 mililiters) and -56 degrees fabrenginright was pleasant because at 587 mph (or $45 QVC) everything had best be pleasant. I was still tired (Benadryl hangover) but 5-6 hours of sleep is standard for me so I was ready for that feeling.

All that went through my groggy head was this line from the end of The Shawshank Redemption,

 "I find I am so excited I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it is the excitement only a free man can feel, a free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain"

OK, we're back to reality now.

A guy who finished davening walked around asking visibly less affiliated Jews if they wanted to put them on. He didn't ask me. I'm ok with that.

I'm 53 years old and I don't understand "duty free". Once I get on an airplane do I suddenly decide that I want to spend $295 on a watch, or buy 15 different types of perfume? Or maybe I want to buy a bottle of vodka for no less money than it would cost in any corner liquor store when I land? Am I sitting at 39 thousand feet realizing, "wow, I could really go for some face revitalizing serum? I hope there is a catalogue from which I can order it and use it tomorrow."

Deplaned relatively quickly and scooted into the terminal. On the way to somewhere I saw the biometric machines. There are no signs telling anyone "you have to stop here first no matter who you are" but I gave in to peer pressure and stopped there and had the machine give me a piece of blue paper. Note to self in the future -- do this. You need that blue paper.

I made it through passport control and various other obstacles and got my luggage (not quite the last, but late in the game). The airport was not really that busy so Jeff and I walked past the not-real cab drivers who wander through the arrival area whispering "ride? ride?". I can't call them gypsy cabs because I don't know where they are from. We were the only people in line so we got a real cab quickly and gave the gentleman the address. He made a little small talk (I only know short Hebrew words) but he negotiated the various traffic jams expertly (Israelis also don't hold from "lanes" when driving) and our ride was from 1:56 do about 2:50.He was expert in invasive driving. Not bad!

Arrival at 18 Harav Reines in Netanya. Pay the man, I do and then into the world's smallest elevator. Jeff and I went separately and my bag complained that I was squishing him. I should have put the elevator in the bag.

We played "meet the family" and I introduced myself to baby Tzofia. She cried, so I know she understood who I am.

I got a tour of the apratment, checked my email via wifi, and got ready for Shabbos. I slept in Josie's room and am appreciative of her largesse in giving it up.

I went to bed at around 11PM af ater a rollicking meal at which we watched a substantial amount of lightning far away -- the sky kept lighting up, but there was no sound. Weird. I had a clock in the room and a shabbos lamp. I fell asleep with the lamp still open which made the next part all the more confusing.

I woke up and I heard cars and voices. OK, that happens. I wake often and life goes on. I looked at the clock, nothing there. I wasn't exactly sure where I was but recalled that it was dark. Too dark. I founbd my watch and tried to see the time. I couldn't because, you know, dark. So I made my way back downstairs, only almost falling once. I fell because it was also dark in the hallway. Now I knew something was wrong.

Into the living/dining room. Still dark and all the appliances, usually so forthcoming with the time, were dark as well. I figured that I had somehow triggered a fuse and broken Israel. So I laid myself down on the couch and looked outside. The sky still flashed and it was still dark outside. Eventually, my eyes adjusted enough for me to guess that it was 5AM Israel time.

At 5:30 I heard baby Choo-Chi (yes, that's what they call her) crying. Then, she stopped. A little while later, her father trudged downstairs to make her a bottle of something. We exchanged 5:45 AM pleasantries (with such witticisms as "what time is it" and "the power's out.") He went back up and I stayed on the couch, watching the darkness and an occasionaly UFO (struth).

I couldn't fall asleep but then at 6:30 went back upstairs. Then the rain came. That helped me sleep until 9:30 ish when I went back downstairs. I was pouring and the thunder and lightning continued (throughout the day - no walks were taken). The powere had come back on and we discussed the halachic implications of the outage (which, it seemed, was specific to this apartment and not a neighborhood problem).

Lunch was et, toys were thrown, stories interrupted and multiple naps taken. All by me. Shabbos ended at 5:40-something and many people went many ways.

I have made some tentative plans for my week -- tomorrow, I will try to find somewhere to drink coffee and grade papers. Then dinner with Josie. Tuesday is dinner with Andi, then she will escort me part of the way back to Jerusalem where I will stay with Nomi and David.

At least that's the plan. Stay tuned.

Meet the Newark, Same as the Old Ark

 As per my earlier post, I needed to deal with a mass of neuroses in a relatively short time so I doubled up and didn't sleep in order to maximize my crazy time. I started pacing at about 6AM after not sleeping. I also had both coffee and tea. On the plus side, both were delicious. On the downside, I may never sleep again. You do what you can I guess.

We left the house at 4PM which scratched my crazy just right. 3:30 would have been even scratchier but I have to learn to take a deep breath and be reasonable. Old dog, meet new trick. At the airport by 4:35 for an 8PM flight. That works. Then we start waiting on lines. The first thing (and if you didn't know this, you wouldn't go there) was the pre-check in security line. The nice El Al people ask questions about where you are from, where you are goping and if you packed your own bag. I answered honestly and I got waved through because my profile is just plain smashing!

Then we check in. New thing -- they were weighing ALL carry on bags and enforcing a limit of 8 Kg (which is about 1 and a half pounds I think). In my carry on, I had a game, a picture, a belt, my tallis and tefillin and not much else. That was over by 2 Kg (18 pounds). The woman offered to check in my carry on or I would have to move things. I moved the game and the picture, shmooshing (technical jargon, I know) them into my luggage and hoping they don't get destroyed. That lowered my weight to 8.6 Kg (4 stone and a rock) but she let that go. My tallis and tefillin won't fit in my personal bag so what was my choice? It is tough to be a Jew.

Then we go to the security line at which we doff our shoes and coats and empty our pockets. Some things go in bins, some don't but whatever you do, you are doing it wrong. So I did it wrong, got corrected, scanned, patted down, x-rayed and spoken down to. It was fun. Then I moved my stuff off to the side so I could get dressed and move things to the proper pockets. Gate B62, here I come. I settled in and noticed that my carry on bag is breaking. This might be its last hurrah which is sad because the built in table is incredibly useful. They are making an announcement about the limitation on overhead space and, again, asking if anyone wants to check bags in. I'm sticking to my guns on this. I wonder if there will be a maariv in the terminal.

More updates as events unfold.

Surprise Jitters

 A lot can happen in 24 hours. Like an entire day's worth of stuff can happen and often does.

This week we begin mid-year vacation, when the entire of Bergen County decides to get out of Subaru and head to sunnier climes. I eschew that for very important reasons -- I'm frugal-cheap and I prefer this place when everyone else leaves. The last thing I want is to travel somewhere and be surrounded by the same people I'm surrounded by when I don't go anywhere. But then, with Talia visiting the holy land, I started getting the jones, that Israel-itch. Talia had mentioned a flight credit with United...El Al was hawking a sale and we have points and a voucher, and I had no plans other than "go to Dunkin and, at some point, slog through 150 papers."

So a few mouse clicks later I was looking at flights. I didn't want a trip that was too short. To spend any money/points and have to come back a few days after arrival made no sense. The United flights would still cost $500 out of pocket beyond the voucher and the El Al flights, if they even had seats, might get me in to TLV too close to shabbos. But we powered through. Dammit, if I'm going to be spontaneous then I have to plan for every eventuality.

We decided that it made more sense to leave the United voucher for Talia to use to travel somewhere, and I would use points. This meant I couldn't use the extra $188 voucher I had, but that's OK, because the flight would be all paid for anyway. So I used the Chase app and, after checking with big brother to make sure that his apartment would be available (it sort of is, though initially, I'll get the sofa while all the other house guests sleep in beds...this is OK because sofa, so good), I purchased tickets. I went to choose seats. I found one available on the way back and NO seats available on the way there. Weird I thought, they sold me a ticket but have no seats. So I called Chase and asked "what the hey?"

In short, they had no answer until they found that there were seats, but they cost $100 extra. If you have read through my earlier trips then you know that I swore to myself that on all future trips, I would spend the extra money to get the slightly bigger seats. So this was a fine alternative as I wanted to do this anyway. And (get this) to do so, I had to buy through the El Al website -- Chase couldn't sell the better seats. I HAD to use the El Al site which meant that I could use my voucher! So I bought the slightly bigger seats using the voucher and ended up spending 10 dollars out of pocket for the entire round-trip ticket. Not bad, considering that I also got better seats.

Now, of course, I have to cram 6 months of worrying and planning into 24 hours so I'm pretty much freaking out. More updates as my blood pressure allows.

Prayer

 

I was watching a student who is, unfortunately, currently saying kaddish. He was there, in davening, and he said kaddish with a reverence and a fervor which was admirable. But when he wasn't saying it, he was also wandering around and schmoozing. So I admire his dedication, but only when he is dedicated.

I have seen a similar issue with other students. They seem as into their prayers as one should be, swaying and rocking, standing and sitting and poring over the text. But then, during the in-betweens, laughing with their friends, talking and acting like there is nothing else to do.

The problem, I figure, is that we teach students from a young age that prayer is a chance to talk to God. This isn't inherently wrong, but it is woefully incomplete. Students take from it a reasonable lesson -- when I pray, I am talking. When I am not praying, there is nothing going on. But that's wrong.

Prayer is, at the least, a conversation, and a conversation requires listening, and active listening at that. It requires paying attention and, if one believes that there is a force listening to the prayer, being able to accept that that other participant also has something to say and it takes even more attention to understand the return message. And no, no one said that this was easy but it is an important context.

And when we pray in a minyan, a collective quorum, we also have to listen when others speak. The prayer leader who speaks on our behalf - if we don't pay attention when he is speaking for us, then how can we feel included? And when the person next to us is spending more time in his personal petition, if we are not trained to help him by staying respectful and quiet, then how can we expect that anyone will do the same for us?

I have, over the years, tried to create all sorts of metaphors to help students understand the place of prayer in their lives so that their behavior befits the moment. They wouldn't show up late to a movie, or talk straight through the film, would they? They wouldn't walk out of a professional sports event with 2 minutes left, would they? Or worse, they wouldn't walk out of a game they are playing in, or even take off the uniform with time left on the clock. They wouldn't make noise during the SATs or a math test, and in a tech-high school setting, no student can make math optional just because it doesn't seem relevant to him. The same is true of prayer in a religious school. Would a student make his case to the judge and then pull out a soda, or chat with a friend while the judge weighs what was just said? Or would he sit on the edge of his seat, silently waiting for the right moment to continue to petition?

But all these allegories never seem to convince students and I think that is because the baseline understanding is "I'm in it when I'm in it but when I'm done, I'm done." The fact is, if we are people of belief, then we need to buy into the entire of the event and see our selves as part of a whole. A group petitioning a king speaks as individuals, members respectfully let others speak as individuals, and all listen when the leader of the group speaks. And then all listen quietly for the thin, still voice, recognizing the presence of the divine speaking answers directly to our hearts. If we make noise, we miss all of that and we might as well not be doing anything.

Conversation. Dialogue. Discourse. These are not solitary activities even when others are being quiet. Speaking is balanced by listening. Wishing to be paid attention to requires that we pay attention in return. Prayer is the action which seems self-centered but is actually the most selfless activity in which we engage because it demands that we put ourselves aside even when we can't (in a traditional sense) hear anyone else speaking.

My Channukah

 Apologies in advance -- this will be less about Channukah than about the creeping intrusion of Christmas into the mass consciousness and its effect on Channukah (among other things). But I just couldn't waste the delicious pun in the title so there you go.

I got into a conversation on an internet forum (ok, an argument, I guess) about the decision in Dedham, MA not to have (and then, yes to have) a Christmas tree put up in the local library. You can google it -- I'm sure the story is out there. I am a firm believer that all religious symbols, for any religion, belong in spaces reserved for the private expression of belief. Your house, even your lawn are fine by me. Your car? Great. But public (i.e. municipal) spaces which are supported by and affiliated with government should be devoid of such imagery. Grinch much? Yes, and I'm OK with that. I'm not in favor of "have one, but have them all" because we can never get "all" and people start to chafe when the "all" includes religions (and modes of expression) which the majority decides are inappropriate. Then it becomes a popularity contest, with each group either vying for the approval of the (Christian) majority or going to court to force itself down the public throat, breeding resentment. Here is an article which relates.

Am I being overly sensitive? Well, I'm not in the majority and I'm not especially popular, so maybe my sensitivity is borne of experience, personal and historical. To say that I'm being overly sensitive is to discount the validity of my experience, something which is easily done by those who don't share that. If I have been stung by a bee and I freak out when I see another bee, someone who has never been stung might think I am being overly scared. No, I'm being properly scared based on my own interactions with bees. Don't tell me they aren't scary because YOU aren't scared. Feel free to speak out of your frame of reference but don't you dare discount mine as equally valid.

Anyway, in this discussion, it was brought up that the tree shouldn't be worried about because the courts have decided that it is a "secular" symbol and not one that represents religion. Bosh and/or piffle. No, strike the "or." Just bosh AND piffle. A Christmas tree is a religious symbol and this can be demonstrated in 2 ways:

1. Its name. "Christmas" Tree. 

2. Its affiliation in thought and timing with a Christian holiday.

If you disagree with my logic, then I would suggest trying to put a tree up in July with the statement "Happy Summer's Day" (or even on Arbor day!) and see who shows up to put tinsel on it, wearing a Santa hat and depositing presents. These are trappings of Christmas whether or not they have any biblical connection to whatever the day is supposed to mean (and, trust me, there is plenty of controversy over the actual religious/biblical value or authenticity to Christmas, but for over 1500 years, the holiday has ben adopted and inextricably linked to Christian mythos).

The statement that the tree is a secular symbol is the height of arrogance. And trust you me, I know from arrogance. To decide that a symbol which has value to only one subgroup is not religious, but representative of a larger, secular culture is manipulation which develops from a Christian-centric view of the world. The idea that Christian symbology is synonymous with American culture is due to the pervasive presence of the tree in the mass consciousness and the resultant monopoly Christian thought has in deciding what it is to be American. Yes, one can make all sorts of arguments about the existence of solstice-awareness in the stories of many religions (Judaism included) and ecologically minded actions, but all of this is a posteriori rationalization.

For the tree to have value as a cultural and secular symbol in America it must speak to the experience, values and identity of the American people. July 4th is a secular and uniquely American experience because it commemorates a defining moment in our collective history. I, as an American am, BY DEFINITION, included in the group that Independence Day created. A day celebrating the presidents, veterans who live and died for this country, or even the social and economic achievement of American worker makes sense. Democracy celebrating democracy. Capitalism celebrating capitalism. Maybe it smacks of a Hollywood awards show, celebrities giving each other prizes for being celebrities, but at least it stands for something specifically American.

Where in the annals of US history is the tree an important or formative item? G. Washington chopped one down (no, he didn't, at least not in the "cannot tell a lie" way...a story which, interestingly, sounds like a revisionist version of Abraham and his father's idols) but other than that, the tree comes from an outside culture which adopted it from another outside culture. And, yes, I feel that the 10 commandments is similarly still a religious symbol. Did our secular system of laws pay homage to a biblical concept? Maybe, but then let's have an image of the signing of the Constitution in our courthouses and not a statue of anyone with the 10 commandments. Like here.

When we embrace the idea that Christian superiority allows that mindset to impose its symbols under the guise of "it equals the American experience" we exclude all of those to whom (and for whom) that symbol does not speak. And what if a Muslim was the one to decide that he tree is no longer religious? Does anyone outside the group have the right to strip the religion of its symbol? Or is that the prerogative only of the insider who wants to see what he values in every location, so he plays word games in order to get around law?

And, yes, I feel this way about "Secret Santa" and its Jewish equivalents. Tis not the season for presents. There might be a Jewish value to giving coins specifically ON Channukah, but the influx of imitative traditions ("Mystery Maccabee" I'm looking at you) is nauseating. Do we really want to be like them so much that we will turn our holiday experience from being a celebration of unique identity into an opportunity to lose that identity and co-opt a non-Jewish practice? We might as call Channukah the Festival of Lies then. Songs about hypocrisy, irony and capitulation would needs be composed.

My Channukah is a religious experience; it has no "Channukah Bush." It is defined by history, codified in religious texts and driven by my obligation to follow the laws of my religion and my pride at being affiliated with both the historical events and the chain of transmission and existence which keep that history vital and relevant. I light candles. I say blessings and change my daily liturgy. I might sing songs which celebrate the divine and his miraculous presence. I will not ask anyone to value this if that person doesn't share in my experience and, in truth, I don't want him to (see here). Being asked to share in someone else's religious values, or even buy into the lie that will force me to be part of another's religious experience by pretending that it represents me on a different level is patently offensive.

If this is a war on Christmas because people want to claim that Christmas is a secular/cultural holiday, then so be it. You want it to be secular? Rename it "Giving-Day" and put it in June. Tell churches not to have any special services. Somehow I don't think that this will happen.

In Judaism, and mainly in the dietary laws of Kashrut, there is a notion that a minority is subsumed in a majority and loses its individual identity. By allowing the "melting pot" to mix us in, we will start tasting like the majority. We have to hold on to what makes us "us" and keep our distinct flavor while separating from the others. Even our "minor" holiday (rabbinic and not requiring much in the way of cessation of creating actions) needs to be a holy-day, and we should stop aspiring to be like Christians in our observances because we are accepting that this somehow makes us more American.

More Human Thoughts

 The Chatbot making the rounds has inspired a sheaf of thought and writing, and the irony isn't lost on me. A few have even begun to try and contextualize the quantum leap forward in natural language chatting and essay writing that the GPT 3.5 system has introduced.

If you recall, my concern isn't that students can pass work off as their own, but that those who receive the work will be ok with that because the skill of writing qua writing will no longer be deemed essential. As such, we can leave the essay writing for the computers because students will have ubiquitous technology to perform such menial tasks as composing a response to literature. My fear is that by exempting students from learning the skill, we will miss the opportunity to inculcate fundamental and exportable thinking skills. Paralleling this technology to the use of a calculator, students can rely on having a phone or a computer or an actual calculator so they need not understand either how to add 2 and 2 or what it means to compute and consider the relationships between values. There is a utility of mathematical thinking which is lost if we can jump to getting the answer automatically. Understanding what it means to solve for x is as valuable as actually solving for x. The same holds true for writing.

It isn't about comma splices and tense agreement. It is about organizing thoughts in your own brain before you commit them to paper. We have to train the brain to make the choices which will most efficiantly distill experience and emotion and help us create with others. Writing is a tool towads thinking so we can't expect one without the other. Writing is, like any applied grammar or vacabulary, a method of acculturation and assimilation into a society. Following the agreed upon norms demonstrates an ability to integrate, to subsume the self within the greater good of membership in the collective. It shows a consciousness of the decision to encode in a way that can be decoded by a particular audience. Only by understanding the rules of rhyme and rhythm can one choose to exercise poetic license and break the rules. Only by understanding sense can one choose to employ nonsense as a communicative tool. To be illogical, to express on whim and not by dint of algorithm is a cultivatable skill, unless we decide that we don't value the individual voice.

Maybe we need to rethink the value of writing for the regular person. Maybe we have to be bold enough to say that the average person does not need to think and the stratification of society which we apply to every other field applies to English as well. Not everyone is an artist. Not everyone is a mathematician. Not everyone is an athlete. And the product each of the experts can create is approximatable by technology. But the value in the human expression is something we admire and which is resident in only a small group. Anyone can learn to play a scale on a piano, or do basic addition or even to stack bricks. But not everyone has a complex story to tell, or any interest in computing interest, or designing a building. So maybe we should rework the entire educational curriculum. Eliminate all that can be performed by technology and leave only the specialized and advanced classes for those who gravitate to that. So for the "math people" out there, by the time 7th or 8th grade rolls around, the few left will automatically struggle and succeed through more advanced classes because they WANT to, and they won't have to waste any time learning about covalent bonds, the French Revolution or the ablative case.

Should we start by assembling data from other fields? Do we ask math teachers if students are having more or less success at the more advanced levels of math because/despite their inability to interpolate logorithms, solve formulae or multiply two-digit numbers in their heads? Can we expect students to be able to evaluate, assess and even correct material that they can't initially create? Should we be expecting a continued dumbing down of society and yet still complain about it?

And all of this broaches another reality -- the AI relies on both programming and a data pool of information. Though it can be programmed to evaluate the content, it cannot judge on any sort of humanistic level. Its rules are rules and it has no gut to follow. If it does, in any sense, have that "instinct" it does only as a function of the programming and the programmer. Thus, its built in value system is a reflection of, even a projection of the person who put in the code and set the rules. This, then, reinforces the social structure -- the well educated computer person imposes his vision of right and wrong, good and bad and valuable and useless onto the measuring system, so the computer, when it generates text, simply expresses the views of its creator under the guise of impartiality.

I have no doubt that by now, computers can generate lovely melodies, draw pictures both highly realistic and incredibly abstract. A computer can produce beautiful writing. If not now, then soon, computers will generate combinations of words which follow grammatical rules and even embody the stylistic and inexpressibly emotional elements which we cannot teach but which some programmer used as a driving ethos when he taught the computer to create content, and the pool of raw data and precedenting material upon which the computer bases its creations is broad enough that the computer can invoke styles and types which run the range of human experience. But all that means is that we will exempt humanity from the struggle to do the same thing and find its own level on a person-by-person basis, develop its own voice and create content of which it can be proud.

So let me bottom line, tl;dr it for you. The English classroom must continue and writing must needs continue to be taught not because we think that the creation of essays and responses is necessarily a valuable skill, nor because we worry that students will be without technology, stranded on a deserted island, and yet still need to write a cover letter for a job application. But writing must be taught because we want students to be able to rise from their status as intellectual have-nots and unlock the more complex thinking that stands on the shoulders of whatever genius lives within each of us. We won't know who is "not a writing person" if we abandon the activity before it has a chance to blossom.

previous thoughts (even tangentially) on the matter

https://rosends.blogspot.com/2013/08/blenderized-learning.html

https://rosends.blogspot.com/2014/12/look-it-up.html

https://rosends.blogspot.com/2017/11/what-hath-internet-wrought.html

https://rosends.blogspot.com/2018/03/2-rantz.html

Shall We Play a Game?

 Thanks to the hard work of the Tech Rav I have been informed that there is an active chatbot which uses artificial intelligence and can do things like parse code, hold conversations and write stories and essays.

I'm not jazzed. Let's discuss.

I'm in favor of intelligence. I think one of the smartest things we can do is be intelligent. And I'm even OK with aritifical intelligence. I think of it like artificial ingredients -- as long as the food tastes good and can last in the car's glove compartment for an extra coupla weeks, then I'm good with it. The problem is in the impact (and I'm turning teacher now) on the educational process and the development of the adolescent brain. When applicable.

So, first thing -- I tried it out, and saw the results of others' attempts to use the service. My assessment is "good but not great." The chat service has limitations built in and it knows it so it admits those at every opportunity. It is very careful about explaining that it cannot think or opine (though it insists that it can synthesize and innovate, claims I find hard to test as it would require that I know all extant conclusions and can spot if the AI provides something heretofore unrecorded), and somehow is programmed to avoid (whatever the programmer's agenda defines as) hate speech or speaking too admiringly of people that it is not in vogue to admire. It ends up in a circular loop when you ask it about how it assesses sources it uses. But it is a very powerful natural language research tool. The essay/book summary I read was pretty poorly "written." I have to wonder what sources the AI borrowed from in order to produce the content (as I doubt the computer actually read the book in question), but the sentence structure and word choices were not good at all. I say this with a caveat -- to a casual reader, I would guess that the sentences sounded fine. But to an English teacher, or one really inspecting the structure, they were below average in composition.

Years ago, I envisioned a scenario in which a computer wrote poetry. The masses loved it (the pretend poem, not the idea) and this was the saddest part. I also saw a TV program on which an elephant painted a picture and a child created something which passed (to the uninformed) as a Jackson Pollock. The line between brilliance and crap seems awful thin sometimes. Art is always subjective so if an AI wants to create, I can see that creation passing all sorts of tests and vetting because the end result either resonates or doesn't, source be damned. The fact that a text is not driven by actual experience and insight might be troubling but if we calue the end product over the process, then so be it. I did try out one of those AI-art websites at which you describe the image you want and the system creates it for you. It didn't. Major fail so I'm still in need of an illustrator for a side project. That's a story for another day.

But over the years, I have heard, too often, about skills which are no longer relevant because we have technology which can replace them. How many people think that any of the following is still worth teaching (or learnng)? Note -- this list is not about physical skills but intellectual exercises:

reading maps, doing basic math, using a library/research, interpolating logarithms, reading an analog clock, learning to spell

Odds are, you saw at least one item on that list that you don't think we should spend time teaching because of the ubiquitous technology which makes that no longer a valuable skill. So, next question -- would you be ok if any of the items on the following list fell by the wayside in the same way?

driving a car, writing an essay, reading a lengthy book, diagnosing an illness, doing advanced math, designing a bridge, umpiring a baseball game, providing emotional therapy, ruling in a court case

Some of you would be more than happy to hand any and all of those items over to the ersatz mind of silicone. Others might try to draw a line somewhere and explain why "yes to this but no to that." Hours could be spent arguing but that's not my point. That's just a hobby...

Here is where I see the problem -- NOT in that a student might employ an AI system to write an essay and then said student might hand in the essay pretending to be the author. Yes, that's bad and, yes, teachers will have to find ways to detect artificially constructed material. But the big problem will be when people say that teachers DON'T have to detect constructed material. At a certain point, I suspect that people who say, "It is fine that no one has to learn how to read a map because we have computers  which hcan tell us turn-by-turn directions" will say, "It is OK that no one has to learn how to write an essay because we have computers who can do that just as well." Those people insist that we are freeing students up to apply themselves to more complex thinking and learning because we aren't bogging them down and wasting their time with easy stuff that technology can do for us. And to the concern that the AI created responses are not very good (and if a student were to turn one in, it would be cause for learning and inmprovement, not as a static end result) too often people rely on the "but it is good enough so since it seems like a student could have written it, it shows that a student doesn't have to waste his time writing it."

What people don't understand is that knowledge is a progression and the advanced and critical thinking skills that we all say we value only exist on a solid foundation of basic skills. All those higher order thinking skills cannot be built on staircases of sand. One cannot play chess on an advanced level without learning the basics of the game and memorizing how the pieces move. One cannot be a successful NBA player without learning the basics of how to dribble. All advanced knowledge and all advanced skills come as the result of long term hard work, standing on the shoulders of practice at the fundamentals. If we cut the legs out by saying a student doesn't need to know how to do addition in his or her head because he or shee will always have a calculator nearby, then not only are we disadvantaging that student when he or she is in a tech-free environment (yes, they exist), but we are not demanding that the student understands the mechanics of arithmetic which will allow for the model of thinking which unlocks advanced math. Not knowing "how" leads to never understanding "why" and that presents a problem. A student who lets a computer do research never learns the value of the hunt, the struggle of thinking unpredictably in order to find something unexpected, or the need to evaluate sources and prioritize data. A student who lets the computer write never learns to organize thoughts, or communicate persuasively, or work reflectively and struggle to improve -- there is no respect for the rules of grammar so all communication becomes tainted by ignorance. These are exportable skills which can't really be taught in a vaccuum. They are part of a brain-growing mindset. How can we expect that we will have a next generation of advanced thinkers if we don't demand the development of thinking skills but instead, assume that at a certain age, never having had to grow, those brains will be ready to be advanced?

I'm no luddite. I'm not even ludesque but I like my pedagogical change like a like my roller coasters -- slow and predictable, without sudden changes and with not a lot of vomitting. AI has a place, and, yes, that place will grow as we figure out the most effective way to incorporate the advantages of machine thinking without losing the elements necessary to keep human thinking staying steps ahead, so that we can design the next generation of AI.

Meanwhile, I, a human wrote this. So there.