THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THE YEAR 2000 - TRUE COURAGE - SHOULD SCHOOL SUBJECTS BE TAUGHT SEPARATELY FROM EACH OTHER?

 

THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THE YEAR 2000

Dvora Goldschmiedt

Pondering the significance of the year 2000, I started from the usual bouncing off point: it has none. But, no, that's not entirely true.

It is, I must admit, the first time I have lived at the turn of the century. It is also the first time in 100 years that we have experienced summer in two different centuries. It is kind of exciting to say, 'I was born last century'. Kind of. But not really so significant.

So what, exactly, is this year, the 2000th year, according to Dionysius Exiguus, since the birth of Jesus? It is also, according to the Jews, the 5760th year since creation. According to the Chinese, it is the year 4637, counting from when Emperor Huangdi invented the calendar. And the Muslims say that it is 1420, using Mohamed's flight from Mecca to Medina as its starting point. Which one of these do you consider to be the most significant? Why?

I think that the significance of an event lies in what one makes of it. If you think something is significant, it becomes so. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Making mountains out of molehills. It is up to us to create and accord significance to specific events.

It is not necessarily about what happens, but about how it affects us. How we take it and what we take from it. Everybody relates to different things in different ways. I read something recently about someone who re-read all his favourite childhood books and discovered all these subplots he had not even been aware of when he read the books the first time. He had, subconsciously, selectively read only the events that he could relate to and apply in his life as a child. Going back as an adult, he found new depth and complexities where before, there had been nothing.

Sometimes, when something is happening in your life, it seems that all of a sudden there are articles about it in the newspaper, all the books you read happen to discuss it, it is discussed on a talk show, and everywhere you turn it seems to be an issue. Perhaps it isn't, but because you are now aware of it, you see it so much more in your life. You have accorded significance to it, and thus find significance for it in every aspect of your daily life.

Significance can be global, such as the Y2K bug. It can be religious. It can be national. For Australia, 2000 is the year of the Sydney Olympics, surely a significant event. However, significance can also be an entirely personal thing. It is up to us to find and make the meaning that we want this year to give us.

The year 2000 holds a very special significance to me (and, I am sure, to millions of other students). For me, the year 2000 is my final year of high school. The year I do VCE. Leaving the school I have been at for fourteen of my seventeen years of life. Leaving behind all the friends I have made there over the years, all the teachers, the structure, security and stability of a school day. Everything I have ever known.

It is the start of my future, a step into the big wide world out there. Something pretty significant. To me.

What does the year 2000 mean to you?

 

 Top

 

TRUE COURAGE

Dvora Goldschmiedt

It is an accepted social phenomenon that we wear masks. Perhaps they are not masks in the physical sense of the word, but they are covers to hide what we truly think, feel, and believe. Adults have become adept at switching masks effortlessly, going from polite smiles to true interest to pretending no embarrassment, and then back again. Younger children, however, are not so skilled in this subtle art and their feelings can be read merely from facial expressions.

Why do we feel this need to cover up who and what we are? What is so shameful about having certain viewpoints, and why do we always have to act in a socially acceptable way?

Granted, without a basic social structure there would be total anarchy and chaos, but who is to dictate what is 'wrong' and what is 'right' for society? In Victorian times, it was perfectly okay for women to have plunging necklines, but considered totally improper to show one's ankles. (Consider the famous scene from Pride and Prejudice when Elizabeth lifts her dress to prevent it from getting muddy.) The Victorians went to such an extent as to have floor length tablecloths so that no one could see the table legs! Obviously, standards of dress have since changed (or even completely disappeared), but this is only one example of society's ever-changing rules. These definitions of what is polite only serve to stamp out individual opinions and creative expression. However, the fact that all of society abides by them makes it increasingly hard to disregard them, and as such, children learn to hide their feelings and display what is polite, even if it may not be true.

We have evolved into a society where people are uncomfortable expressing personal opinions and displaying emotion. It takes true courage to be able to take off one's mask and simply be oneself, and most people cannot do that. There is a group, however, of very special and brave people who are willing to let people peek into their minds and souls and see what is going on there. These people are artists, writers, musicians, poets, anyone who portrays, in one form or another, what it is that they feel. Writers, especially, put down in words what their innermost feelings are for all the world to read at their leisure.

Writing is a fiercely private experience. It requires brutal honesty and self examination. It's about opening yourself up, letting others see you in your moments of weakness, learn your innermost thoughts and desires. To let others read what you write is akin to letting them read a bit of your soul. It's a violation of privacy of the highest order.

Or so we have been led to believe. Perhaps people would be changed for the better if they were encouraged to drop their masks, even for a moment, and be themselves. Then again, perhaps not. Maybe it really is better to behave in a way contrary to what we feel, as long as other people's feelings are protected. However, consider the fact that so many people read and enjoy the works these courageous people have given us. Maybe we drink up other people's feelings because we are too scared to express our own. I don't know that this is true, and it's certainly not documented or researched, but a point worth considering nonetheless.

Let us praise and honour the courage of those who have given of themselves (and not themselves masquerading as someone else) to help make this world a better place.

 

 Top

 

SHOULD SCHOOL SUBJECTS BE TAUGHT SEPARATELY FROM EACH OTHER?

Dvora Goldschmiedt

Once upon a time in a nursery rhyme there were three bears. One went to a very proper little boarding school where everything was nicely timetabled into individual forty-five minute slots, with three minute breaks to get from one room to another and a lovely long lunch break. There were weekends off and exciting excursions, but each in their own neatly scheduled time. The students were polite, well behaved and always did what they were told.

The second bear went to a more alternative school. Here there were teachers who blended their lessons, taking ideas from one class and mixing them into their own. It was very exciting, being a part of this school. The students were taught to question what they were told and never to follow anything blindly. They learnt that life is a big melting pot and that what you learn in one context may be just as applicable in another. Although these students may have been a little rowdy or bent the rules a little, they knew what was right.

The last bear didn't go to school at all.

The first bear finished school, went to university for three years, and became an accountant. He neatly compartmentalised all of his clients' accounts into forty-five minute slots. After establishing himself financially, he married a pretty young girl and bought a single-level double-brick home in the suburbs. They had two children, a boy and a girl, and a dog. Their lives were staid, conventional and secure, if a little unexciting.

The next bear decided that after finishing school he would like to travel the world. However, he didn't have much money, so he went out and found a job. He worked hard at his job, and earned enough money to take his trip. On his travels, he met a lot of interesting people and did a lot of new things. He rode a camel around Egypt, went hang-gliding over the Mediterranean, went skiing in the Alps and bull-fighting in Spain. He learnt a lot of things he hadn't known before, things individual to each different culture that he visited. After a while he went back home and found a job at the Foreign Services Bureau, translating documents. He enjoyed using the languages and culture-relevant skills he had learnt during his travels.

The third bear went on the dole.

Every summer, all three bears went on a trip together. One year they rented a holiday house by the beach. One morning, when they were out on their daily early-morning jog, a little girl came wandering off the beach and saw their house. Her interest piqued by the pretty curtains, she decided to take a closer look.

On the kitchen table sat three bowls full of porridge, waiting for the bears' return. The little girl was very hungry, and started to eat the porridge. First, she tried the oldest bear's porridge, but it was too hot. Then, remembering the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears, she tried the youngest bear's porridge, but it was much too cold. So, she tried the middle bear's, and it was just right. It was so delicious that before she knew it, it was all gone.

Feeling very heavy and full after such a lot of porridge, she decided to sit down and relax a little. First, she tried the oldest bear's big oak chair, but it was too hard and uncomfortable for her liking. Again, she went to the third bear's beanbag by the fireplace, but it was too low and lumpy. Finally, she spied the second bear's hammock hanging in the corner and ran over to it. It was very relaxing, swinging in the hammock, with the warm sun and the salty sea breeze coming in from the window, but she got a little carried away. She was swinging so hard that the hammock tore off the post it was tied to and dropped her roughly on the hard pine floor.

Feeling a little out of sorts, she went to the bedrooms to lie down. As usual, the oldest bear's bed was too big and hard; the youngest's was too small and saggy. Only the middle bear's bed was good. So good, in fact, that she lay down and slept on and on, unaware that the three bears had returned from their jog.

The three bears walked into the house, puffing and panting. Suddenly, they stopped short. Their porridge bowls were half-eaten, with porridge splattered on the table and chairs. Their chairs were in disarray, and middle bear's hammock had fallen on the floor, wrenching more than a few splinters and chips of wood along with it. Their bedrooms were in a mess, and there was a girl sleeping contentedly in middle brother's bed!

The first bear just stood there, stock-still. Hundreds of thoughts whirled wildly in his head, and it took a while for him to order them neatly so that he could deal with them one at a time. How dare someone come in and invade his precious privacy? A veritable stranger had intruded upon his own personal space! The house looked as if they hadn't had the cleaners in just yesterday, but how could he get them to come again today if they weren't scheduled to come in until next week? How could he disturb his usual routine? He would never just walk into somebody else's house and life! What rude manners! Where had that little girl been educated? Surely not at a proper school where manners and etiquette were an essential part of the curriculum, one lesson every day. It was horrendous, what society was coming to today! And he had to figure out what to do, as there were people invited for dinner. Surely the house wouldn't be ready by 6:30. Yet…to call and cancel was unthinkable. So ill mannered! And so late! No, he decided. It was unthinkable. But what to do?

The youngest bear walked in, got changed into his bathers, and walked out again. It was nice weather, so he strolled down to the beach for a spot of sunbaking.

And the middle brother? He just sighed, and went to his bedroom to wake up the little girl and send her home to her parents. Surely they must be worrying about her by now.

 Top

 

©TalentEd is located at the School of Education, University of New England, Armidale, Australia.

This page updated: 23 January 2006 Webmaker: Howard Smith. hsmith4@une.edu.au