Tag Archives: educated

Debrief

Debrief: (v) to interrogate on return from a mission 

If we knew for sure that we were paranoid, we could consider stifling our fear. But the power of paranoia is that it permeates our thinking with just enough factual information that we’re never quite able to dispel the myth from the truth.

I felt this when I was a father working with my small children.

I had two goals:

  1. I wanted to see them educated.
  2. I did not want that education to make them heartless and stupid.

You might think that receiving learning from a school would naturally remove all cynicism or indifference. You might even consider that sending them to a Sunday School class at a church could do nothing but enhance their potential for generosity.

Unfortunately, I think you would be wrong.

And here’s where the paranoia comes in.

I found that my sons often returned from school or church with a bit of twisted thinking, which they were convinced was true because someone with an education or a grease board had told them.

I could have left it alone.

I could have hoped they would annul such falsehoods out of the basic training they received in our home.

But their lives were too important, their minds too valuable to the planet, and their spirits too powerful to be left to chance.

So I did.

I often debriefed my children after they returned from school or church.

I am willing to take criticism for such a maneuver, and you can feel free to condemn the practice.

But I demanded that when they arrived at adulthood, they were aware that the Civil War was a struggle over slavery, not a misunderstanding concerning states’ rights.

I wanted them to understand that the theory of evolution was happening all around us, and it was all right to question it—as long as you didn’t insist that God created everything in six twenty-four-hour periods.

And I wanted them to know that there are no “chosen people,” no third-world countries, and no races and cultures that are beyond our understanding and affection, but instead, that we are eight billion people with more in common than difference.

I debriefed my children—and I would do it again.

Because their lives are more valuable than wearing matching uniforms and marching in step with their class.

 

Cutlery

Cutlery: (n) utensils for eating, esp. knives, forks, and spoons

I have much experience at making an ass of myself.

In deference to this article, I will rephrase:

My derriere is often exposed.

Throughout my life, in an attempt to appear more educated, prominent or opulent, I have used certain phrases in front of certain people I thought would certainly require the best of the King’s English.

I have gone so far as to seek out more sophisticated terminology in both dictionary and thesaurus, anticipating the arrival of some individual I deemed my superior. (Even the young woman who works with me now and takes my dictation, when she first arrived—since she was a classical musician—I felt the need to bone up on my knowledge of the Old Masters who composed the symphonies which are now the relics of orchestras across the world.)

Now, I have garnered that this process is not only foolish, but futile.

Eventually I always popped off with some little piece of verbiage which was so obscure that the target I hoped to impress would turn to me in frustration and say, “What is it you’re trying to say?”

To which I would reply, “I was merely inquiring what kind of cutlery you desired for the evening repast…”

Bewildered, the guest would stare and say something like:

“You mean fork, knife and spoon?”

Embarrassed, I had to acknowledge that this was exactly what I meant.

I quickly discovered that even if people are used to working in high-minded climates with qualified technicians, when they escape that environment, they like to leave the King’s English with the King.

funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Armchair

dictionary with letter A

Armchair: 1. (n) a comfortable chair, typically upholstered, with side supports for a person’s arms. 2. (adj) lacking or not involving practical or direct experience of a particular subject or activity.

There should never be more pundits than participants.

There. I have established a new rule.

Like most rules, it will be ignored in favor of some sort of haphazard pursuit of unbridled freedom.

Yet we have too many people with too many opinions who have too little talent to participate in the matters that are too important.

Last night as I watched the National Championship for college football, I was astounded at how many different people they had conglomerated to voice their opinions on the activities of these barely post-adolescent young men, who have been pushed to the forefront as superior athletes.

Some of these “armchair quarterbacks,” as we often call them, are actually former players. But they all seem to forget a very important fact. Even though I didn’t play football very long, I will tell you something which is never brought up by those in armchairs, be it about sports, politics or life in general:

It happens too fast.

If you expect your training or your brain to be able to come up with some magnificent way to handle the task in front of you, you will be confounded, stumble and make mistakes.

Just as a politician who wants to seek counsel with many people before making a decision always ends up piping in a little too late, any football player who believes he will have time in the middle of the game to access the resources of his brain and come up with the perfect solution for the situation, is going to end up looking foolish and inept.

Life really works with the conjoining of two magnificently unpredictable units: instinct and luck.

And the only way to be successful is to put yourself into enough uncomfortable situations that your instincts begin to turn you in the right direction, and then realize that the choices you make will still require some luck in order to be fruitful.

I got tickled after the game last night when they asked a player what he was thinking “right before he threw that pass.”

The young man crinkled his brow as if he didn’t understand the question, but politely replied, “Well, it was just a play and I played it through.”

Exactly.

America sometimes seems obsessed with the notion that we can educate ourselves into a better world.

Pundits love to discuss, from their armchairs of comfort, how somebody should have done something completely different in a given situation. But the best we can really do in life is to stop being afraid of difficulty.

For it grants us the instinct to know what to do at the right moment, and then step back…and pray we get lucky.

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Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix