I don't have any vested interest in Invisible Children. I've known about their work for years but never participated or contributed. (That does seem to be the problem with charities, doesn't it?) I consider the entire storm of criticism kicked up by the Kony 2012 campaign to be a relatively factual question-- either they waste money on non-missional giving, or they don't. Either they offer transparent access to their financials, or they don't. Of course, opinion enters the fray with questions like "Should arresting Kony be this big of a deal?" and "How can Americans help without harming?" But those questions run deep and deserve much more civil discussion than they ever get. And those deep questions aren't the focus of this campaign.....but that particular misunderstanding merits its own post.

I definitely think Invisible Children has the right to answer the charges leveled against them, so here's the latest installment from them. It's short.
If you are wondering whether Kony 2012 is a scam or a savior (hint: neither), at least start here

If you call the proverbial rock your home, then you may not have heard about Invisible Children's video campaign Kony 2012. Its explosion yesterday on YouTube, Twitter, and Facebook has thrust the charity, its film, its goals, and the entire question of Westen involvement in Africa to the forefront.

First off, if you haven't watched the movie, you need to. Even if you decide presumptively (or due to a burst of negative press today) that Kony 2012 is not your idea of "doing good," the film itself is part of this discourse and you need to see for yourself.

YouTube link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y4MnpzG5Sqc

After yesterday's overwhelming (and very youthful) response to the video, people have stepped forward to hammer Invisible Children with every charge from hypocrisy to colonialism to misrepresentation to being too little too late.

The Guardian, a British news publication, compiled an extensive live blog of critiques and responses today which I found very informative. You can read them here, and I do recommend taking time to get caught up on the conversation as a whole:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/politics/reality-check-with-polly-curtis/2012/mar/08/kony-2012-what-s-the-story

I'm going to move my discussion from Facebook to here. I have some thoughts.

Many people criticize the IC video because it's so slick and oversimplifies the Uganda issues.

Well, sure. Why did you expect a 30min film to fill in all the details for you?

The film isn't a documentary, it's an action piece designed to provoke a deep response AND incite people to get up and DO something. To me, the charity's goals are obvious: give Americans the dream of doing something about one of the horrific news articles that fills our television screens.

Note that the response has been overwhelmingly young--teens and college kids. I've read plenty of critics who dismiss the film as pandering to stupid, guilt-ridden white kids. In fact, a major critique of the film is that it's insidiously racist. Just like those crazy Brits in India, or the Belgians in the Congo during the time of Joseph Conrad, we can't see that our desire to "help" is actually nothing but patronizing Western colonial attitude.

I'd like to tackle that one.

See, there are assumptions in there that bother me. One is that college kids and teens are too stupid to do anything but follow the crowd. I know a lot of thoughtful young adults who intensely desire to make a difference in this world--more on that in a bit--and it's not a mark against them that they arent old enough to have sat through dozens of history lectures nor remember the earlier stages of the Ugandan war. Perhaps we adults need to take more responsibility for what young people know and consider important? ....I've certainly met a LOT of uninformed old people. And it's not fair to assume that someone must be fully informed before they act on a desire to do good.

Another assumption up there is that "real work" is so complex and hard, only the professionals and grow ups can understand it. Look, I get it. International problems are tough. In fact, why have so many of us failed to do much for Africa or Asia or the homeless in our own town? Because the prevailing media message is that the problem is too severe. It's brutally realistic --and discouraging. Perhaps Kony 2012 exploded in fame yesterday because it's one of the few times anyone has ever told young people that they might matter NOW, not just when they're old enough to earn money to donate.

Three, Western attempts to alleviate suffering do more harm than good. Yes, it's been true at times....but if the attempts did alleviate *some* suffering, was the idea itself bad? I realize that as a white American, I don't understand the non-white, non-American perspective. I also understand that not all "help" is good help. We may need to have a productive and uncomfortable discussion about how the West does a lot of harm when it just storms in and throws money everywhere. Last time I checked, though, that wasn't the purpose of the Kony 2012 campaign. Besides, what is America supposed to do? Sit on our giant pile of money and get fat? If every attempt to aid a developing nation is met with cries of "Patronizing imperialism," what's an obnoxious yet well-meaning country like ours to do?

Next, about the film itself. I've heard a lot of people complain that it's egotistic, too glossy, too slick. Too white. Too American.

Who gets to decide what kind of film is appropriate for this context? Perhaps we're hearing gripes from other charities because they have failed to market their mission/vision as effectively? The filmmaker tells a personal story about his passion to do something that matters for a problem that seemed too big to solve. Maybe the critics want a fact-filled documentary? Hm. Perhaps those aren't effective in getting people to DO something. Stop judging this film by standards that fit a different genre. Is it oversimplified? Sure. But so is every summary of a Shakespeare play that I use when teaching. Doesn't kill the usability. You gotta start somewhere.

I'd also like to address the criticism that Kony 2012 is a white man's guilt trip. I've seen the internet memes: the guy clicks "like" on the Kony film before smugly telling himself, "I'm ending the war in Uganda!"

This is the ugliest criticism of all. It takes no personal sacrifice to complain that people will walk away from the problem having taken part in a short-term goal. What proves this? Why is sniping about possible bad motives an acceptable response to a call for charitable action? Can we not hope that people will enter a lifetime of charitable service after taking part in a grassroots campaign that involves millions? I take issue with anyone who would like to suggest that I simply want to feel "less guilty" by sitting comfortably in my armchair and clicking "like." Perhaps the satirical complaints are coming from seasoned veterans of African aid campaigns. I find that hard to believe. And even if the critique is sadly true, isn't it better to wring money from the guilty white people so *someone* can do something about it? Or do you guys just want to sit there and complain that Invisible Children isn't following your preferred solution to child abuse, kidnapping, murder, and war atrocities? That'll solve the problem I'm sure....

I do see legitimate issues with the Kony 2012 campaign. I recognized them while watching the film. Putting so much effort into bringing a war criminal to trial will not end the atrocities across Africa. Military intervention by the US does not solve problems. And we can help Uganda best by assisting them in ways they request, especially in building infrastructure and working through indigenous national organizations rather than bringing our own mess to the party.

Fine. I get it. (See, I must be one of the few non-idiots to follow the video. Maybe it's because I'm above the age of 25. /*sarcasm)

What the critics do not see here is the culture of hope.

You *can* make a real difference in world problems. We *can* leave this world better than we found it. Young people actually matter. The US can exert influence in the world in ways other than shooting guns. Big problems are tackled in small steps. And symbolic, broad-stroke campaigns have the power to motivate people to do more good in more meaningful ways later.

I happen to think that such a viewpoint reflects Kingdom ethics. Individuals and governments are responsible before God to advocate for the oppressed and downtrodden, feed the hungry, clothe the poor. It's not a mere suggestion.

If that means people are going to accuse you of being a thoughtless, imperialist, white bigot..... so it goes.

I nearly had to arm-wrestle Coart into this movie, and he didn't like it. But I really appreciated Liam Neeson's The Grey.

Since I teach (did teach) American Lit, I've always been fascinated by the social and cultural forces that led to the development of Naturalism (or Determinism) in American culture. Jack London and Stephen Crane serve as poster boys. The credo is simple.  "There is no God. And Nature hates you. Given the chance, she will eat you alive.  Enjoy your day."

London's stories are often gripping tales with a lot of adventure and swash, but the gritty core is always there. "To Build a Fire" makes it obvious to most people: Nature doesn't care about you. If anything, she delights in killing you.  Stephen Crane gave the philosophy an even colder outlook, with his famous "The man said to the Universe, 'Sir! I exist!" poem. Of course, the Universe doesn't give a damn.

Naturalism doesn't really play well to American movie audiences. We like our movies fluffy, for the most part. Good guys win, bad guys lose, and hopefully there's a great fight scene or giant explosion in there along the way.   The more sophisticated among us crave irony and satire, with allusions or visual metaphors. We appreciate the darker stories, perhaps. But those don't make big box office bucks. So they tend to remain art films at indie film houses.

So I'm not really sure how The Grey made it into American theaters in broad release. It really is a good film, well-shot and well-acted. Liam Neeson is excellent. He's the Irish guy you wish you had in your family, because it'd be so FUN to sit around with him on Thanksgiving and drink. Plus, he's good looking in a 50-something, craggily sort of way.  I love Neeson. 

The Grey tells the story of several people struggling to survive the brutality of Alaskan winter and cold after their plane crashes. They're beset by ravenous wolves who seem much larger than life would normally offer.  I dunno. I'm not a wolf expert. But those were BIG wolves.

Aside from nearly freezing you to death with scenes of wind-lashing blizzards, the movie moves along pretty evenly in relatively predictable ways.... though the ending isn't really what I'd call "predictable."  Once you've seen it, you'll say, "Yeah. That's exactly how it needed to end." 

But through and through, this is Jack London's story, even though he didn't write it. Neeson's character doesn't believe in faith or God or anything he can't see.  An empiricist, I suppose. So he has all the hope one might expect of a man in that position.  If you're up against Nature and there's no Higher Power to turn the tide, it's going to be a long night.

I appreciated The Grey for living out a philosophy that many of my students know only from my lectures or assigned readings. I also appreciated its excellent cast, solid characterization, well-written dialogue, occasional moments of humor (very occasional), and thoughtful mien.  Coart didn't like it.... I didn't really delve into why, though I'd guess he found it philosophically and narratively predictable.  Our movie mates (Sara and Brett) liked it too, so I can at least claim a majority opinion.  

But if you want to read a snarky British comment, you might enjoy this editorial on Liam's recent film career:

http://www.guardian.co.uk/film/filmblog/2011/sep/28/the-grey-liam-neeson-trailer

Disclaimer:  The Grey is rated R for violence and lots and lots of F-words.

"Remember that you are only dust, and to dust you shall return."

It all seems so medieval. Ash, reminders of mortality, vestments. I hadn't planned to attend an Ash Wednesday service, but when our dinner guest invited us to accompany her, I eagerly accepted the offer. I don't want to invade some congregation's service on my own, but visiting with a friend seemed ok.

The Lutheran church presented itself with lovely architecture and craftsmanship. I don't think I can quite forgive the Puritans for smashing all the aesthetic sense out of the English church. So I soak it all in when I can. Dark wood beams crisscross a sharply peaked white ceiling. I really wanted to snap an Instagram so I could show you....but he church was dead silent when we walked in. Lent isnt a time for levity....or photography.

I don't really see myself as a liturgical church person (though the AMIA service I attended this summer was incredible; I'd gladly do that weekly). I appreciate liturgical structure, though. I like the orderliness of the church year, the feeling of "belonging" that comes when you realize fellow believers have been recognizing these same seasons of worship for centuries now.

It's a different world, one that offers smells and sights to supplement the words. Liturgy leads children and the illiterate and the busy American to see truth they'd otherwise miss. "Remember you are but dust, and to dust you shall return." The minister's thumb was warm as he marked the cross in palm ash on my forehead.

What will matter to me at the end of all my days? What foolish goals do I chase now in lieu of eternal gains? I'm in my 30s. I don't make a habit of remembering I'm gonna die.

Death comes for us all.
Repent and believe.

I didn't grow up with Lent.

Actually, being from Western Pennsylvania where a full 50% of all residents are Catholic and an imposing stone Catholic church dots many of the corners in my small hometown, I can't imagine my formerly-Catholic-later-evangelical-independent-Bible-Church father smiling on any such observance.  He wasn't a real big fan of the religious identity attached to him by virtue of his being the son of an Italian immigrant. Maybe if his dad hadn't been an abusive drunk, Dad would have thought more highly of his religious heritage. So it goes. Anyway, I certainly wasn't raised to see anything valuable in liturgical traditions. 

My little country church eschewed anything that smacked of vain tradition. Truth be told, we eschewed pretty much everything... except independent Fundamental traditions. THOSE were ok.  So we had communion once a quarter, credo-baptisms once a year (if we needed to), altar calls after every sermon, and no relationship with any church that wasn't of the same theological stripe. The *exact* same stripe.

The liturgical year in my world was marked by poinsettias for Christmas (so lovely in a building decorated in red and white and wood) and choral "cantatas" for Easter and Christmas. And patriotic sermons on Memorial Day and the Fourth of July. 

As I get older, I sense that abandoning hundreds of years of tradition may not necessarily be any more "holy." After all, didn't Paul say in Romans 14 that those who celebrate certain days or seasons have no right to despise those who treat every day alike? Let each person be persuaded in his own mind.

The concept of Lent has been warped at times, certainly, but I think the kernel of beauty is truly admirable: a setting aside of temporal pleasures for the sake of earthly contemplation. Traditionally, Lent copies the 40 days of fasting that Jesus endured before His temptation and the beginning of His ministry. In my stream of Protestantism, Lent observance is a minority position and more focused on paying attention to the sacrifices demanded by Christ's earthly ministry.

If the kenosis of Christ forms a major touchstone of our theology -- that Philippians 2 details the stunning humiliation experienced by Christ so that He could embody humanity for the sake of our redemption -- doesn't that deserve some celebration in our worship? I have friends who abstain from significant pleasures and devote themselves to additional Bible study and prayer.  Usually Sundays are "days off" from abstention, for on this side of the Cross we celebrate on the Sabbath, not mourn.  

My Lenten friends seem to reap benefits that I envy.   In a world full of beeps and whistles and voicemail and text messaging and Facebook and tweets and Hulu and Netflix and cable television on demand, I think a little silence is more than welcome. 

so... here are my Lenten vows:

I will abstain from coffee (it's usually my morning companion), and I might limit tea as well. We'll see. 

I will limit my engagement with online media. More books and thought, fewer Facebook sessions. (I consider blogging to be an extension of journaling, so I plan to post on Xanga throughout the season.)

I will pursue times of meditation and prayer, probably picking up with a One-Year Bible plan that I abandoned a while back. 

I will set aside physical cravings so that I may with greater joy anticipate the joy of the Resurrection Sunday. 

PS. Wry quip at lunch from David on Lent: "Give up something I enjoy? Well, I would give up video games but I know my resolve would crumble the day Mass Effect 3 comes out." LOL

We got a jar of lingonberry preserves from friends for Christmas, so I went in the hunt for a scone recipe to match. Lacking dried fruit or raisins (the typical scone additive, it seems), I decided to take a basic cream scone recipe and dress it up with a little cinnamon. Here's the recipe: Cream Scones from Joy of Baking http://www.joyofbaking.com/scones.html

taste test to come....

Bruce: My laptop is dead.... 

Me: What happened?

Bruce: It committed--  What's the name of the Japanese thing?

Me: You mean ritual suicide?

Bruce: Yeah! That! Kama Sutra! My laptop committed kama sutra.

Me:  I think you mean hari kari..... *snort*

Dear friends,

On Friday, Joey announced via email to the NCS family that Coart & I will be moving into new jobs at the end of this school year.  We are excited about Coart's opportunity to pursue his UGA PhD in Social Foundations of Education full-time.  For him to be able to be in school full-time, I need to pursue more lucrative employment. And after 10 years in one place, this is a good time for a change. So here we are.

We want to say thank-you to many families down through the years whose support of our ministry at New Covenant School kept us going through the hard times. Education is an incredible ministry, but it's also an exhausting one, both physically and emotionally. When we could not see our way forward, people stepped forward to love us, support us, feed us, hug us, offer help, or forgive us for our mistakes with their kids. It's that last one that stuns me. Such a precious gift. Only the forgiven can forgive. 

I came to NCS 10 years ago knowing little about formal education. Neither of us did. NCS barely had a high school, but it had a solid headmaster and board who wanted to see a great foundation laid for the upper school. Those early years lacked the cool "culture" that so many NCS upper school students cite as the reason they love this school. All of that work was still ahead of us. It was tough. 

I have told some of you this story:  the first 4 weeks I taught ...ever.... I woke every morning wishing I could quit. It was THAT hard. I don't know why every 1st year teacher doesn't just quit. Teaching is an incredible blend of artistry and science, of people management and content delivery, of academic prowess and interpersonal skills.  I didn't know how to keep the 8th graders from talking nonstop (they were bored and hungry -- now I understand); how to teach Romeo and Juliet to the freshmen (we survived somehow); how to get 6th graders to understand grammar (they won't get it till their brains develop enough to grasp the abstract nature of the concepts). My curriculum was handed to me from the Logos School's curriculum guide, and -- honestly -- most of it was totally inappropriate for the age level.  But that's why you can't just hand off a pile of textbooks and expect a teacher to plug herself into the gap. Teaching isn't about the textbooks. It's a dance, a long slow waltz of content and skills and relationships.

Those early years, I was rescued and mentored and loved by incredible people like Maurice Lopez, who still ranks just below Jesus in my book. With 40 years of experience in education and a lovely Andersonian accent, Mr Lopez helped me relax and take it one day at a time.  I also leaned on Dennis Bills, our headmaster and friend who had hired us for this high-school-building adventure.  He and his family lived next door to us (a happy thing), and we enjoyed many meals around their table discussing anything from Halo to the difficulties of getting any middle schooler to want to learn Latin. (I think it might be impossible.)  

We met some incredible students right out of the gate. Like ... Darby Wilcox is simply indescribable. She still plays guitar and sings in Greenville several times a month; you should go hear her. I first met her as a misplaced 10th grader in a school that only went up to 9th grade. She and Liz Noblitt and Mallie Settle used to have the most epic cream cheese fights during lunch.... none of us interfered. Who wants to get attacked by a crazy cream-cheese-wielding adolescent?!

As Coart said during that first year, "I expected I would like teaching, and that I might even like teaching high school and middle school students. I never expected I would actually LOVE them."

It was this realization -- loving others for the glory of the Kingdom -- plus our master's education at Covenant College that forged our philosophy of education. Education is discipleship. By nature, it is relational. You cannot expect to accomplish anything in the classroom if you do not love your students, or if they are unable to respect you. People absorb the worldview of people they love, not people they tolerate or spar with. And education must be bathed in Grace.  Otherwise, well-intended school structures become a horrible form of legalism that traps students in a performance-centered Gospel.

Further, beginning under Dennis and continuing with Joey, NCS became a place where broken, hurting kids could find some shreds of safety, a harbor where their battered lives could rest and repair. I was never prouder of our student body than I was a few years ago when they were able to open their arms and love one of their peers who had sinned deeply. While adults whispered nasty things about that kid in the hallway, the students chose to love the broken and bind up the wounds.  It took yeas of hard labor by many NCS faculty and students to get our school culture to that point, but it was incredible to watch. (Shout-out to Joey Thames for being an integral part of building that culture of Grace among the students. His influence will be greatly missed next year.)

We've seen the student body become a resilient, caring group of sinners.  Yep, sinners.  I shake my head still when I see a class ripping into one another -- these things ought not to be so among the family of God. But we move forward.  NCS has been able to minister to kids who were hurting, depressed, cocky, shattered, abused, confused, doubting, cutting, starving, uncaring, and broken. God is mighty. The Gospel is true. 

Like Jesus, we've never had much success with the self-righteous. So it goes.

A culture of Kingdom-service and loving concern will not survive unless the caretakers watch over the plants carefully. It's the nature of education that we work with new students and families every year. You can't ever stop teaching or stop talking about what the Gospel means in the context of learning.  Always repenting, always renewing, always reforming. The gardening metaphor fits.

For all of these lessons and thousands more that I haven't written -- we thank the families and students and alumni of New Covenant School. It's been a great ride.

Now we're headed into a new, undiscovered country. We covet your prayers for us that God would provide the jobs we both need and wisdom to sort out the logistics of a two-income family perhaps spread across two states.  

Our desire is to end well. We want to work hard right until the school year ends, then joyfully pass the baton to the next runners. Pray that God provides the educators to fill our shoes. 

And no matter how far we go, you'll always be able to find me right here. I've got too many cooped-up words not to blog once in a while.  

This post kids off a wandering series I'd like to form over the next several months, composed of snippets of memories and stories from our 10 years at New Covenant School. There's no telling what will pop up as I clean out innumerable file drawers and scraps of life that have piled up in my classroom. So this should be a fun ride.

Mnemosyne was the Greek goddess of memory. She lent her name to one of the two pools of water that greeted weary travelers who had just arrived in the Underworld to be sorted, judged, and passed on into what would probably be a dull afterlife. (Only the heroes and super-villains got any excitement.)  The pool which enabled a soul to remember its past was called The Pool of Mnemosyne.  Most people rushed first to a larger pool near the entrance called The Pool of Lethe, which stripped them of all ability to remember their past life.

Though Poe's tortured speaker in "The Raven" would later yearn for this "lethe and nepenthe" to free his mind from the gripping sorrow for the lost Lenore, the Greeks thought forgetting their entire lives would be a real bummer. Supposedly, people "in the know" could get special knowledge from Hermes to enable them to find the Pool of Mnemosyne once they arrived in Tartarus.

This is the oldest photo I have from NCS. It's the girls' basketball team in 2004 who won 2nd place, I think.  This would have been our second year at NCS, and the girls here are Mallie Settle (NCS '06), Alicia Lindstedt (07), Liz Nobblit Phillips (06), & Claire Settle (07).

Thought you all might enjoy seeing some photos from "Fictional Character Day," which was a huge hit among the NCS upper school students!

I know that Facebook has really taken over everyone's photo lives these days, but I like having at least a few photos over here on my blog to help me remember good days gone by.  

  Link! (Legend of Zelda)

Yogi Bear!  (with a pic-a-nik basket) ... I love this kid.

 Snow White. 

 A couple Cats-in-Hats showed up.

 cartoon reference.

 The 6th graders crack me up. lol