No. 7: Be kind to children, old people and your creditors
I’ve had instruction on the brain lately.
For one thing, there’s the matter of my aforementioned creative writing class at the alternative school. And we’ve had some fun here at Bark with lists and advice, prohibitions and declarations about what makes for good writing. Then I read a long, fascinating article in the New York Times Magazine yesterday, about how teachers are taught and how they might be taught better.
Do it this way
But, more importantly to me and, I’m sure, to you, is the fact that I’m in the midst of potty training my toddler son. In between all the discussions about “big-boy underwear” and rabid parental cheering for bowel movements, I’ve found myself in a metaphorical frame of mind, and thinking of a cheesy book proposal — a cute, aphorism-filled slice of life they can park next to the cash register. Something like, “Everything I Needed to Know About Life I Learned While Pooping on My Father.” Or, “Who Moved My Spider-Man Training Pants?”
Once I land on the right title, I think the book will write itself.
Of course, the Good Lord himself, long before the first blog post was written, struggled with the issue of instruction. Back in the day, when he was looking to get through to people, a way to really connect with them, vis-à-vis the whole morality/obedience/virtue nexus, he struck on an idea.
Why not a list? The 10 Commandments. The ultimate in concise, clearcut instruction. Except that Christopher Hitchens — the liquor-bloated professional contrarian — argues that they’re not so ultimate, after all. In a piece in Vanity Fair, Hitchens takes on the Old Testament’s Top 10, and tries to improve on them.
Hitchens, who is sometimes hilarious, sometimes infuriating, and almost always smart and entertaining and savage, wanders sarcastically through the history of the commandments, and then offers up his updated list:
Do not condemn people on the basis of their ethnicity or color. Do not ever use people as private property. Despise those who use violence or the threat of it in sexual relations. Hide your face and weep if you dare to harm a child. Do not condemn people for their inborn nature—why would God create so many homosexuals only in order to torture and destroy them? Be aware that you too are an animal and dependent on the web of nature, and think and act accordingly. Do not imagine that you can escape judgment if you rob people with a false prospectus rather than with a knife. Turn off that fucking cell phone—you have no idea how unimportant your call is to us. Denounce all jihadists and crusaders for what they are: psychopathic criminals with ugly delusions. Be willing to renounce any god or any religion if any holy commandments should contradict any of the above. In short: Do not swallow your moral code in tablet form.
I couldn’t improve on that. But maybe you could. Give it a shot — what are your 10 Commandments?
That’s pretty damn good. The only thing I might add is something like this: Find some level of contentment in your own life so you don’t feel the need to torture people, objectify animals, or destroy the earth. That’s pretty much my life philosophy. It’s a challenge, but it works.
Oh, and this is awesome: “Everything I Needed to Know About Life I Learned While Pooping on My Father.”
Learn to embrace your current situation as if you invited it. I stole that from Pema Chodron.
How about “Don’t use your stature as a persuasive public intellectual and your blinding (but justifiable) disregard for Middle Eastern religious zealots to justify the invasion and exploitation of a sovereign country by Western religious zealots and free-market ideologues.”
I also considered “Don’t be a fat, sweaty, loudmouth fucking drunk,” but I’m actually fine with that.
Don’t hand me your lifetime’s worth of issues and tell me they belong to me.
1) If what you’re doing makes you feel too good or too bad, you should probably stop doing it.
2) Wipe off gym equipment after usage.
My nephew who has been ahead of the curve in everything but potty training called yesterday to inform me that for his birthday he needs big boy spiderman underpants because he no longer “pees or makes a mess” in his pants. So, hang in there Shawn.
For book title, I suggest: “What Moved in My Spider-Man Training Pants.”
awesome…i’ll credit you when it’s a best seller
Shawn, I read that NYTMag article about teaching teachers today, and what struck me was that they seemed to be saying success began (and by “began” I mean “is impossible without”) effective classroom management. As someone who wears the black hat in a classroom for boys with severe behavior disorders, I can tell you that being an effective human being “begins” with “classroom management.” With that in mind, here are my commandments:
1. We form and make clear reasonable, healthy boundaries.
2. We give utmost respect to people who care enough to consistently perform #1; we avoid those who don’t.
3. We never try to save our face and our ass at the same time.
Note the inclusive use of “We.” This is not a “do this,” or “don’t do that,” list, because then you are just begging for someone with half a ball to say, “fuck that.” I’m simply stating what “We,” do, and if you don’t want to be part of “We,” you don’t have to, but when you see what it’s like to deal with people who can’t/won’t adhere to Commandment #1, all you have to do is pay heed to #3 and you are welcome back.
I like this use of “we,” I’m totally stealing it for my classroom.
excellent — you know, that article and the whole “classroom management” thing really struck a note with me, because my tendency is not to want to do that kind of thing, order and discipline, etc. I think I can be a laid-back, “whatever” kind of guy and hope it all works out.
which is so totally wrong. I regret not being firmer and clearer in every class I teach. And I even see it as a parent now — i hate, hate, hate nagging my son. though he must be nagged, lest he run into the street or chew on an electrical cord. I have this juvenile anti-authoritarian thing in my brain that is foolish, but stubborn…
We don’t toot under the sheets.