Thursday, March 28, 2013
Team Panama: Somewhere that's warm (The Belltower LCM Newsletter March 2013)
The first thing I noticed as the 12 of us let the plane and walked into the airport in Panama, before even the beautiful skyline and the smell of coffee, was the humidity. After months of cold, crackly winter weather and ear-biting wind in Chapel Hill, Panama was paradise. It was warm and bright all week long too, save for the occasional showers -- because apparently moisture is inescapable when you've got a rainforest for a next-door neighbor.
But Panama gave us so much more to be thankful for than just climate. Most of our trip was spent in Boquete, a small town in western Panama that gets most of its money from growing coffee and feeding retired westerners. That was where we volunteered, doing what we could to serve the local community, but it was also where los Panameños served us -- far more than we had any reason or right to expect. Despite the cultural disparities and the sometimes problematic language barrier, the people we met in and around Boquete did all they could to help us feel at home and enjoy ourselves. And in a town where every person we chatted with turned out to be the best friend, cousin, or godfather of the last person we climbed a volcano, zip-lined through the jungle, or toured a coffee plantation with, we quickly built a thriving network of friends and acquaintances.
Even when we were most explicitly trying to give of ourselves to the community, I couldn't shake the guilty feeling that I was getting just as much, if not more, in return. We landscaped and did various chores at a shelter for abandoned or abused animals, but most of the time was just spent bonding with animals -- which I can only hope was mutually therapeutic. The supervisor at the recycling plant likely spent more time coming up with new ways for us to sort things than actually doing what she probably needed to get done that day.
I'd like to think that we made an impact in some kids' lives when we visited the local orphanage too, but all I know for sure is that they had a profound impact on me. For the three and a half hours I was there, my fluctuating crew of two to six kids and I mostly just played unending games of kick-the-ball-on-the-roof, hide-and-seek, and cut-out-the-pirate's-heart-and-retrieve-his-gold. But the individual resilience, humor, and compassion I saw in each one of the kids left more of an impression on me than I could ever hope to leave on them in just one morning of carefree play and casual conversation.
I might not be able to feel smug or accomplished about my contributions to the people and culture of Boquete and Panama, but I can be grateful; I can remember the individuals we met and shared our time with, and I can hope they remember us.
http://www.holytrinitychapelhill.org/belltower.pdf
(This link might expire when the next issue comes out.)
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Literature and Its Place in the Classroom: Taking a Long, Measured Look at the Common Core Standards for American Education (Campus BluePrint March 2013 Online Issue)
There has always been contentious debate about what or who or exactly how much we should teach the children of our nation. Logically, we want the next generation to be educated the right way. The problem is that the world is such an enormous and unpredictably diverse place; who is to say what would properly prepare our students best?
The earnest academics and educators in the Common Core State Standards Initiative were bold enough to venture an answer. And as a gesture of good faith, America is trying to apply their attempt at a thorough, uniform curriculum in every public school in the nation.
Common Core produced its set of benchmarks and requirements as part of the ongoing federal attempt to set standards and equalize education across states—thus ensuring no individual state has an inordinate edge when it comes time for national quiz bowl season. (Here's looking at you, Vermont.)
So far 45 states and half of Minnesota have adopted the standards and nine states, including North Carolina, are using them for the 2012-2013 school year.
The basic concept of mandating the same standard and curriculum is controversial and has attracted much criticism. One specific requirement has angered many, especially among the relatively small, but impressively articulate, demographic of English teachers.
The Common Core mandates a new emphasis on informational readings as opposed to literary ones, and so has set new guidelines concerning the material assigned to students. In elementary school, students should be reading 50 percent nonfiction material and 50 percent fiction material, and by twelfth grade students should be reading 70 percent nonfiction material and 30 percent fiction material.
Naturally, there has been backlash. Book lovers everywhere reacted in disgust, worried kids might not be given the chance to develop an appreciation for literature. Scholars had the chance to bond over the preposterous implication that any textbook could teach history better than "The Great Gatsby." And proponents of the liberal arts lamented the growing utilitarian trend in education policy, which gives marketable technical skills priority over general cultural knowledge and critical thinking.
The standards were more than a little misunderstood, and the writers of the Initiative were quick to make announcements saying as much. This isn't to say those concerns are no longer valid, however.
The Common Core reading requirements were not meant to apply only to English classes nor to force teachers to take classic literature out of the curriculum. The intention was to bring more complicated and diverse reading materials into all classrooms and to push science and social studies teachers into making students read more and write essays, too.
But regardless of the creators' intentions or the knee-jerk reactions of literature junkies across the nation, what matters is how it's put into practice. Judging from the current practices in the nine states that have already adopted the standards, the people who make the decisions misinterpreted the standards as well. Many of the experts who fashioned the standards have spoken out against this widespread misinterpretation, often taking the opportunity to criticize school administrators' reading comprehension skills.
However, many education experts contend administrators will continue to place the majority of this burden on English teachers. Science and history classes can't fill up 70 percent of the students' readings on their own; even with the corrected interpretation, English teachers are still left to tighten their belts and selectively excise large parts of their ordinary curriculum.
But we shouldn't be too quick in dismissing this trend as one that ruins English education and forever shatters any chances these students had of developing a real lifelong love for reading. Does our current English education end up teaching much more than how how to use SparkNotes or find pirated copies of "The Crucible" film online? Maybe the inclusion of an interesting and appropriately literary nonfiction piece here and there would interest otherwise bored students and remind them that literature isn't so distant from historical facts and modern social issues.
But the unavoidable question at the core of this heated issue concerns the purpose of English education itself. What is reading in school supposed to do for students? Does it teach them certain skills, specific or general, or is its product much less quantifiable? Is the purpose of literature in education to sow the seeds of intellectual growth—to cultivate the beginnings of a rich internal life in these students?
For the Common Core, the goal is clear. The big idea, as it always is, is to prepare kids for college and careers. David Coleman, an architect of the standards, has said in various public appearances that kids are very rarely prepared for the complexity of college reading. Even for kids who do a lot of reading outside of class, he says, the material tends to top out at around a fifth grade reading level.
As well as increasing the amount of primary documents and nonfiction texts that students work with, Coleman focuses on the increased complexity of texts, which he believes students need.
And maybe he has a point. Perhaps one of the reasons university life causes so much stress and severe mental anguish is that students are suddenly expected to work closely and regularly with dense academic texts that they've never had to deal with before. Maybe reforming education in primary and secondary school is what we need as a country.
But is intensely ramping up academic standards across the nation really the right way to do this? Shifting the academic stress backward onto the students who might already be falling behind doesn't seem like the most logical step toward a solution. And what about those kids who are already hopelessly behind by middle or high school—do we just expect them to start catching up if pushed hard enough? It doesn't seem to have worked so far.
www.scribd.com/doc/131489522
The earnest academics and educators in the Common Core State Standards Initiative were bold enough to venture an answer. And as a gesture of good faith, America is trying to apply their attempt at a thorough, uniform curriculum in every public school in the nation.
Common Core produced its set of benchmarks and requirements as part of the ongoing federal attempt to set standards and equalize education across states—thus ensuring no individual state has an inordinate edge when it comes time for national quiz bowl season. (Here's looking at you, Vermont.)
So far 45 states and half of Minnesota have adopted the standards and nine states, including North Carolina, are using them for the 2012-2013 school year.
The basic concept of mandating the same standard and curriculum is controversial and has attracted much criticism. One specific requirement has angered many, especially among the relatively small, but impressively articulate, demographic of English teachers.
The Common Core mandates a new emphasis on informational readings as opposed to literary ones, and so has set new guidelines concerning the material assigned to students. In elementary school, students should be reading 50 percent nonfiction material and 50 percent fiction material, and by twelfth grade students should be reading 70 percent nonfiction material and 30 percent fiction material.
Naturally, there has been backlash. Book lovers everywhere reacted in disgust, worried kids might not be given the chance to develop an appreciation for literature. Scholars had the chance to bond over the preposterous implication that any textbook could teach history better than "The Great Gatsby." And proponents of the liberal arts lamented the growing utilitarian trend in education policy, which gives marketable technical skills priority over general cultural knowledge and critical thinking.
The standards were more than a little misunderstood, and the writers of the Initiative were quick to make announcements saying as much. This isn't to say those concerns are no longer valid, however.
The Common Core reading requirements were not meant to apply only to English classes nor to force teachers to take classic literature out of the curriculum. The intention was to bring more complicated and diverse reading materials into all classrooms and to push science and social studies teachers into making students read more and write essays, too.
But regardless of the creators' intentions or the knee-jerk reactions of literature junkies across the nation, what matters is how it's put into practice. Judging from the current practices in the nine states that have already adopted the standards, the people who make the decisions misinterpreted the standards as well. Many of the experts who fashioned the standards have spoken out against this widespread misinterpretation, often taking the opportunity to criticize school administrators' reading comprehension skills.
However, many education experts contend administrators will continue to place the majority of this burden on English teachers. Science and history classes can't fill up 70 percent of the students' readings on their own; even with the corrected interpretation, English teachers are still left to tighten their belts and selectively excise large parts of their ordinary curriculum.
But we shouldn't be too quick in dismissing this trend as one that ruins English education and forever shatters any chances these students had of developing a real lifelong love for reading. Does our current English education end up teaching much more than how how to use SparkNotes or find pirated copies of "The Crucible" film online? Maybe the inclusion of an interesting and appropriately literary nonfiction piece here and there would interest otherwise bored students and remind them that literature isn't so distant from historical facts and modern social issues.
But the unavoidable question at the core of this heated issue concerns the purpose of English education itself. What is reading in school supposed to do for students? Does it teach them certain skills, specific or general, or is its product much less quantifiable? Is the purpose of literature in education to sow the seeds of intellectual growth—to cultivate the beginnings of a rich internal life in these students?
For the Common Core, the goal is clear. The big idea, as it always is, is to prepare kids for college and careers. David Coleman, an architect of the standards, has said in various public appearances that kids are very rarely prepared for the complexity of college reading. Even for kids who do a lot of reading outside of class, he says, the material tends to top out at around a fifth grade reading level.
As well as increasing the amount of primary documents and nonfiction texts that students work with, Coleman focuses on the increased complexity of texts, which he believes students need.
And maybe he has a point. Perhaps one of the reasons university life causes so much stress and severe mental anguish is that students are suddenly expected to work closely and regularly with dense academic texts that they've never had to deal with before. Maybe reforming education in primary and secondary school is what we need as a country.
But is intensely ramping up academic standards across the nation really the right way to do this? Shifting the academic stress backward onto the students who might already be falling behind doesn't seem like the most logical step toward a solution. And what about those kids who are already hopelessly behind by middle or high school—do we just expect them to start catching up if pushed hard enough? It doesn't seem to have worked so far.
www.scribd.com/doc/131489522
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
A spring break by any other name (The Daily Tar Heel op-ed column)
It's 9 p.m. on a weekday, you're on a spring break, and you're in a country where the drinking age is being able to look the bartender in the eyes without flinching.
Naturally, you head to the bar where your friends have been for more than half an hour, sipping fish bowls and wondering where the heck you were.
You kick back, take a couple down and forget about life, stress and your grade point average for two to seven hours.
Then you saunter tipsily back to a seedy hostel and use your barely-passable-on-a-good-day language skills to convince the groundskeeper he should totally let you in even though it's past midnight and you smell like coco locos.
After some fraction of a good drunken night's rest, you heave yourself out of bed, stuff your face with coffee and pastries and run down to the local orphanage.
There you play soccer, tear down cultural barriers and play a formative role in young, orphaned children's lives. This is followed by coming back, eating, napping, eating and starting all over again. Although this time you might want to take it easy on the cocktails.
Sound like a pretty intense spring break? I'll say.
But here's what's weird. Suppose you're going as a part of some organization, and weeks or months beforehand you thought you'd maybe learn a little about this distinct culture you wanted to make a positive, enduring impact on.
With that—and just one of those mornings of playing games with local kids or painting houses—all of a sudden you've got yourself what's come to be known as an "alternative" spring break trip.
Alternative to what? Well, everything else I suppose: working, visiting friends, getting nine kinds of crazy with hundreds of people on a beach, etc.—all of which are respectable options.
But why is it a different category altogether when you actually want to interact productively with a community other than your own on spring break? Shouldn't that be a default or at least the ideal?
Spring break is just that—a break—but it's also an opportunity to step out of sheltered university life for a few days and make some new connections with the world outside of our socioeconomic peer group.
That can mean getting free shots from the guy who cleans the hostel toilets or just sharing a dance and an awkward conversation with a mysterious foreign lady, but it's better if it doesn't end there.
Learn a few more things about the real world; be open-minded.
And who knows, maybe some of us will get a better idea of what we actually want to do with our lives when we're finally out there for good.
But if nothing else, we should at least be sure to pick up after ourselves. Tipping well is good, too.
http://www.dailytarheel.com/article/2013/03/a-spring-break-by-any-other-name
Naturally, you head to the bar where your friends have been for more than half an hour, sipping fish bowls and wondering where the heck you were.
You kick back, take a couple down and forget about life, stress and your grade point average for two to seven hours.
Then you saunter tipsily back to a seedy hostel and use your barely-passable-on-a-good-day language skills to convince the groundskeeper he should totally let you in even though it's past midnight and you smell like coco locos.
After some fraction of a good drunken night's rest, you heave yourself out of bed, stuff your face with coffee and pastries and run down to the local orphanage.
There you play soccer, tear down cultural barriers and play a formative role in young, orphaned children's lives. This is followed by coming back, eating, napping, eating and starting all over again. Although this time you might want to take it easy on the cocktails.
Sound like a pretty intense spring break? I'll say.
But here's what's weird. Suppose you're going as a part of some organization, and weeks or months beforehand you thought you'd maybe learn a little about this distinct culture you wanted to make a positive, enduring impact on.
With that—and just one of those mornings of playing games with local kids or painting houses—all of a sudden you've got yourself what's come to be known as an "alternative" spring break trip.
Alternative to what? Well, everything else I suppose: working, visiting friends, getting nine kinds of crazy with hundreds of people on a beach, etc.—all of which are respectable options.
But why is it a different category altogether when you actually want to interact productively with a community other than your own on spring break? Shouldn't that be a default or at least the ideal?
Spring break is just that—a break—but it's also an opportunity to step out of sheltered university life for a few days and make some new connections with the world outside of our socioeconomic peer group.
That can mean getting free shots from the guy who cleans the hostel toilets or just sharing a dance and an awkward conversation with a mysterious foreign lady, but it's better if it doesn't end there.
Learn a few more things about the real world; be open-minded.
And who knows, maybe some of us will get a better idea of what we actually want to do with our lives when we're finally out there for good.
But if nothing else, we should at least be sure to pick up after ourselves. Tipping well is good, too.
http://www.dailytarheel.com/article/2013/03/a-spring-break-by-any-other-name
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Oprah Winfrey Takes in Rihanna (Bounce Magazine Vol. 13 Issue 3, March 2013)
American billionaire Oprah Winfrey brought Barbadian recording artist Robyn Rihanna Fenty into her home last Friday, telling her, "Stay as long as you need," and "Just call me Mama Winfrey, dear."
It was late, so media mogul Winfrey told Rihanna to go upstairs and rest, saying the storm must have worn her out and telling her she looked as if she'd been "trying to carry the whole world on your shoulders.
"The talking can wait until morning," sighed Winfrey, the former talk show host, as she made eye contact with the unusually shy Rihanna. "Leave your wet clothes in the bathtub and I'll get them tomorrow."
Winfrey had already left fresh clothes out and made up the guest room for Rihanna earlier that evening, confident in her intuition that the headstrong pop star would return, drenched and downtrodden, despite having spoken so angrily to Winfrey earlier that week.
"Lord knows what I'm going to do with her," Winfrey said, shaking her head as she watched Rihanna quietly and obediently climb the stairs. "Too stubborn for her own good," she said, glancing sideways at husband Stedman with the slightest hint of a smile on her face. "Thinks she owns the world, and then she's shocked when it doesn't do quite what she expected."
Stedman stood by the fireplace, his arms crossed and brow furrowed, in the same place he'd been 20 minutes before when Rihanna showed up at the back door, dripping wet and clutching her old, grievously torn backpack like it was all she had left.
"She won't want to talk to you," Stedman said, moving to sit down at the nearby coffee table and pouring them both a glass of wine. "Help is the last thing she wants."
"Just like her mother," Winfrey said. "But she'll learn to listen, and then maybe she'll find out she's not so alone after all." She took the glass of merlot and looked hopefully up toward the guest room, where Rihanna fast asleep on the new linens. "It'd be too much of a shame to watch all that potential go to waste."
It was late, so media mogul Winfrey told Rihanna to go upstairs and rest, saying the storm must have worn her out and telling her she looked as if she'd been "trying to carry the whole world on your shoulders.
"The talking can wait until morning," sighed Winfrey, the former talk show host, as she made eye contact with the unusually shy Rihanna. "Leave your wet clothes in the bathtub and I'll get them tomorrow."
Winfrey had already left fresh clothes out and made up the guest room for Rihanna earlier that evening, confident in her intuition that the headstrong pop star would return, drenched and downtrodden, despite having spoken so angrily to Winfrey earlier that week.
"Lord knows what I'm going to do with her," Winfrey said, shaking her head as she watched Rihanna quietly and obediently climb the stairs. "Too stubborn for her own good," she said, glancing sideways at husband Stedman with the slightest hint of a smile on her face. "Thinks she owns the world, and then she's shocked when it doesn't do quite what she expected."
Stedman stood by the fireplace, his arms crossed and brow furrowed, in the same place he'd been 20 minutes before when Rihanna showed up at the back door, dripping wet and clutching her old, grievously torn backpack like it was all she had left.
"She won't want to talk to you," Stedman said, moving to sit down at the nearby coffee table and pouring them both a glass of wine. "Help is the last thing she wants."
"Just like her mother," Winfrey said. "But she'll learn to listen, and then maybe she'll find out she's not so alone after all." She took the glass of merlot and looked hopefully up toward the guest room, where Rihanna fast asleep on the new linens. "It'd be too much of a shame to watch all that potential go to waste."
World Starting to Make Sense to 6th Grader (Bounce Magazine Vol. 13 Issue 3, March 2013)
After a long talk with his mother Tuesday about the facts of sex and childbirth, the world is starting to make a lot more sense to local 6th grader Tyler Statson, sources say.
After 10 years of being fed "some bologna about birds," Statson said he was overjoyed to finally find some conclusive answers.
"It never really added up right," he said. "I mean, babies are pretty fragile, so I don't even know how the whole bird thing would work without something really bad happening."
Statson said he'd known the stork story was nonsense for years, but he hadn't been able to puzzle anything out, and his parents had been conspicuously tight-lipped on the subject.
"Aunt Lucy helped a little, but without more clues the whole baby in her belly thing just made everything weirder," Statson said. "I still wondered how the baby got in there, so I tried to make the bird story fit too, but that was a dead end."
Statson said he understood why his parents were uncomfortable, but he really wished they'd had the stomach to tell him earlier.
"I guess it's kind of weird," he said. "It's like you've got all the pieces right here, you just put this in there, do this, touch that, and then set the time for 9 months and you've got a baby.
"It makes a whole heck of a lot more sense than birds," he added, still angry. "That story was scary. I mean, if birds can bring you babies, then what other kind of weird stuff goes on I don't know about? And how do I know the birds won't just show up one day and give me one? They're birds, it's not like they know any better."
Statson said he felt a lot more confident and secure knowing that no baby would appear until he used his tools to make one.
"I'd always hoped the world was a little more logical than that crap about the birds. Actually I feel sort of like an idiot now, he said. "Do you know how many kids in first grade I told about storks and how they put the baby in my aunt's stomach? They must all think I was stupid. And what if they already knew? They were probably all making fun of me behind my back."
Resolving the mystery of childbirth has only left Statson eager to get more concrete answers for once.
"Next I gotta figure out that whole Santa thing," he said. "Maybe science class will start making sense again if I find out what they haven't been telling me."
"God, being little sucks," Statson sighed. "I wish people would just be straight with me. But I guess there's always Wikipedia."
After 10 years of being fed "some bologna about birds," Statson said he was overjoyed to finally find some conclusive answers.
"It never really added up right," he said. "I mean, babies are pretty fragile, so I don't even know how the whole bird thing would work without something really bad happening."
Statson said he'd known the stork story was nonsense for years, but he hadn't been able to puzzle anything out, and his parents had been conspicuously tight-lipped on the subject.
"Aunt Lucy helped a little, but without more clues the whole baby in her belly thing just made everything weirder," Statson said. "I still wondered how the baby got in there, so I tried to make the bird story fit too, but that was a dead end."
Statson said he understood why his parents were uncomfortable, but he really wished they'd had the stomach to tell him earlier.
"I guess it's kind of weird," he said. "It's like you've got all the pieces right here, you just put this in there, do this, touch that, and then set the time for 9 months and you've got a baby.
"It makes a whole heck of a lot more sense than birds," he added, still angry. "That story was scary. I mean, if birds can bring you babies, then what other kind of weird stuff goes on I don't know about? And how do I know the birds won't just show up one day and give me one? They're birds, it's not like they know any better."
Statson said he felt a lot more confident and secure knowing that no baby would appear until he used his tools to make one.
"I'd always hoped the world was a little more logical than that crap about the birds. Actually I feel sort of like an idiot now, he said. "Do you know how many kids in first grade I told about storks and how they put the baby in my aunt's stomach? They must all think I was stupid. And what if they already knew? They were probably all making fun of me behind my back."
Resolving the mystery of childbirth has only left Statson eager to get more concrete answers for once.
"Next I gotta figure out that whole Santa thing," he said. "Maybe science class will start making sense again if I find out what they haven't been telling me."
"God, being little sucks," Statson sighed. "I wish people would just be straight with me. But I guess there's always Wikipedia."
Stand-alone Headline Tickers (Bounce Magazine Vol. 13 Issue 3, March 2013)
Hungover minister must've married dozens of couples last night
2nd grader starting to get pissed at know-it-all dad
Comedians worldwide mourn loss of Nazi Pope
Thousands of Romney supporters deported back to America
Egyptian protesters demand institutional change, end to obnoxious revolutionary tweeting
2nd grader starting to get pissed at know-it-all dad
Comedians worldwide mourn loss of Nazi Pope
Thousands of Romney supporters deported back to America
Egyptian protesters demand institutional change, end to obnoxious revolutionary tweeting
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Have fun, and watch the road (The Daily Tar Heel op-ed column)
It was the end of my second semester of college, and I hadn't driven a car in months. I got sick of the P2P after the fall semester (very nearly literally), and my only time spent in cars was in short trips off campus, so I spent very little time in automobiles.
The end of the year arrived, and my dad came to drive me home. We got on the highway, starting the long, arduous trip to Raleigh, and I immediately felt the uncomfortable gastric squirm of motion sickness, greeting me like an old friend cheerfully wrapping his arm around my intestines. And not only was I-40 moderately nauseating a little before rush hour, but it was scary.
Granted, it may have had a little to do with riding shotgun in a 12-passenger van with suspension like a water bed, but something about breezing through dense traffic at high speeds was fairly unnerving, and the next day I discovered driving was even worse.
I quickly got over this anxiety in the following weeks, making myself drive every day and thus desensitizing myself to the mild terror of the highway. But that got me thinking.
My anxiety didn't constitute a full-blown phobia, but desensitization, as a legitimate therapeutic procedure, is regularly used for overcoming real irrational fears. Often it just involves repeatedly exposing people to heights, ducks, zippers or whatever it is they're afraid of, and then the original reaction to the stimuli is worn down until it's barely even noticeable.
But is it irrational to be afraid of cars? Because there's so much potential for things to go wrong, I think it's perfectly rational to worry.
We've come a long way since the pre-seat belt era, but today's highways aren't all airbags, car seats and rainbows now. It's definitely possible to worry too much, but most of us go about our daily lives without any concern at all for the danger we put ourselves in on the road.
It's like we've already been thoroughly desensitized, and now the incredibly dangerous is almost mundane.
Isn't it odd how routine it feels to climb into massive death boxes and go barreling down motorways at supernatural speeds, sometimes no more than a coffee spill or a violent sneeze away from smashing into other such vehicles?
For a species with such a supposedly strong instinct for self-preservation, it's shocking how often we entrust our well-being to complete strangers on the road. Especially when we know they're likely just as sleepy and unreliable as us — and no less prone to drinking, texting, eating or checking their complexion in the mirror while driving.
So let's do our part and be conscious of the tremendous impact a car can have on a person's skeletal structure.
In 2009 there were 10.8 million motor vehicle accidents reported in the United States, and almost 36,000 deaths as a result.
On that note, have a great spring break! But be careful around cars.
http://www.dailytarheel.com/article/2013/03/have-fun-and-watch-the-road
The end of the year arrived, and my dad came to drive me home. We got on the highway, starting the long, arduous trip to Raleigh, and I immediately felt the uncomfortable gastric squirm of motion sickness, greeting me like an old friend cheerfully wrapping his arm around my intestines. And not only was I-40 moderately nauseating a little before rush hour, but it was scary.
Granted, it may have had a little to do with riding shotgun in a 12-passenger van with suspension like a water bed, but something about breezing through dense traffic at high speeds was fairly unnerving, and the next day I discovered driving was even worse.
I quickly got over this anxiety in the following weeks, making myself drive every day and thus desensitizing myself to the mild terror of the highway. But that got me thinking.
My anxiety didn't constitute a full-blown phobia, but desensitization, as a legitimate therapeutic procedure, is regularly used for overcoming real irrational fears. Often it just involves repeatedly exposing people to heights, ducks, zippers or whatever it is they're afraid of, and then the original reaction to the stimuli is worn down until it's barely even noticeable.
But is it irrational to be afraid of cars? Because there's so much potential for things to go wrong, I think it's perfectly rational to worry.
We've come a long way since the pre-seat belt era, but today's highways aren't all airbags, car seats and rainbows now. It's definitely possible to worry too much, but most of us go about our daily lives without any concern at all for the danger we put ourselves in on the road.
It's like we've already been thoroughly desensitized, and now the incredibly dangerous is almost mundane.
Isn't it odd how routine it feels to climb into massive death boxes and go barreling down motorways at supernatural speeds, sometimes no more than a coffee spill or a violent sneeze away from smashing into other such vehicles?
For a species with such a supposedly strong instinct for self-preservation, it's shocking how often we entrust our well-being to complete strangers on the road. Especially when we know they're likely just as sleepy and unreliable as us — and no less prone to drinking, texting, eating or checking their complexion in the mirror while driving.
So let's do our part and be conscious of the tremendous impact a car can have on a person's skeletal structure.
In 2009 there were 10.8 million motor vehicle accidents reported in the United States, and almost 36,000 deaths as a result.
On that note, have a great spring break! But be careful around cars.
http://www.dailytarheel.com/article/2013/03/have-fun-and-watch-the-road
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