What I Learned from TEDxPortland 2012

TedxPortland 2012

1.)  People are willing to put up with a building that's difficult to use as long as it looks beautiful.

2.)  Our rivers are burning because we have as much red tape for fixing our waterways as we do for damaging them.

3.)  When a woman is well educated, her entire family - her entire homeland - benefits.

4.)  Children like to play outside, but it rains a lot in Oregon and city planners don't seem to think covered play areas/skate parks are important.

5.)  The mayor of Portland is not as entertaining as an 11-year-old skater boy.

6.)  We are all cubists and if we can see everything from every perspective at once, we'll end up with something extraordinary.

7.)  People love unexpected happiness.

8.)  The World Wide Web isn't flat.  When you take away 404 pages and allow people to fill in the cracks, what you get is Wiki-magic.

9.)  Sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words and a thousand pictures can be better than a video.

10.)  I'm not the only one who struggles with being vulnerable.  Unfortunately, vulnerability seems to be the dividing quality between secure and insecure people.

11.)  We're killing good and bad microbes indiscriminately, which is making us sick.

12.)  Many places on Earth still don't teach their girls/women to read or swim.  This can be lethal for an entire gender.

13.)  A group of trombones is called a chorus.

14.)  You have to continue to respect fear or you'll break yourself.

15.)  No matter how clueless you are, you can achieve your dreams long as you have talent and Thomas Jefferson. 

16.)  It's not always necessary to think outside the box.  Sometimes, you can just change size or contents of the box to solve a problem.

17.)  It can be helpful to embrace a sucky situation as your own.

18.)  TEDxPortland knows how to put on a conference!

"Yay" Us...Not "Booo" Them

I was inspired to this topic today by seeing Elizabeth Lesser's video presentation at TEDxPortland. I've posted about sportsmanship before, though never on one of my own blogs. I'm talking about the habit of tearing down "the other" side so that your group seems to have more importance.

My seven-year-old is a huge sports fan. He's also a huge smack-talker, so I hear a lot of "Boooooo, Rockets!" and "You stink, Lions!" and even "Your team plays like poop."

 Now, I understand his passion...it's the same passion that I have for anti-racism and pro-femininism mentalities. I do not, however, understand the need to villainize those who feel differently. Making another group evil does not, by default, make your group good. If someone asks "Why is Bud Light a great beer?" it would be weak to hear the answer "Because Miller Light is crap." That's like saying that your selection is at the top of your list because all of the other choices are at the bottom. A best of the worst scenario. Wouldn't it be more impressive to be at the top because you deserve to be there?

I think a big part of this issue stems from people believing that everyone else should be just like them. (I like cheese, you should too.  I believe in God, you should too. I sort my books alphabetically, you should too.)  Well, I don't. And my life is working out just fine. There would be so much less hate in this world if you could let me be me, and you be you.

In conclusion, if you want to say "Anarchists are the Best" go ahead. But if you want to post on your wall that "Democrats are a bunch of tree-hugging communists", I'm probably going to mute you.

Can Computers Help Us Understand the Human Brain?

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (2005)

What a wondrous and powerful thing the human brain is.  It's the control center for our entire body, telling us how to feel both physically and emotionally.  Merely thinking of a new love can cause physical reactions like shivers, palpitations or the sensation of butterflies in your stomach.

We used to think our brains were like gigantic computers, with a billion neurons that acted as processors, giving humans computing power that could barely be rivaled by a dozen super-computers.  Nowadays, it appears that each neuron resembles it's own super-computer, fueled by thousands of synapses that handle the heavy work.

* These are not my actual views on the soul
...but those are for me to know and you to hypothesize about.

So, when I heard that a scientist in Europe is attempting to duplicate the human brain by combining all of the current research models into one gigantic machine that rivals the data collection of the human genome project, my reaction was: "WHAT THE FRIG?!?!?!!"  Hasn't this person ever seen The Terminator? Eagle Eye? Doesn't he fear the day that computers take over the world?

That moment of panic quickly subsided as I reminded myself that computers are still without consciousness.  As we all know, a conscious soul is only bestowed upon humans in the midnight hour by tiny little fairies wielding twinkling wands*.  Therefore, let the supercomputer war begin.  Go ahead, Markram, IBM, and UNSW. Do your worst.  Make computers that can map the function of every single cell in the human body.  Make them as small as a fingernail, or able to calculate prime numbers to infinity; but don't come whining to me when you ask them to model the nervous system and they instead decide to turn all of the words ATMs into slot machines.

Those Who Can, Do. Those Who Can't, Google It!

There are few things in my life that I will readily admit I can't do.  I can't sing, and I can't lick either of my own elbows. Oh, wait. It appears that I can (don't try to picture it...it wasn't pretty.)

I've never been the type of girl who crumbles at a challenge, or murmurs "I dunno" when asked how something is supposed to be done.  It's not that I have to be the best at everything, only that I need to give it a try.  Failure sucks, but it's not as bad as wishing I had given something a go in the first place.  That's why I'm completely baffled when I see young girls who would rather admit defeat from the beginning than give something an honest try.  Is it lack of self-confidence? Laziness? Fear of criticism?  What's the cause and how can we erase it?

In my classes, I've taken to not always answering my students' questions directly.  When I was young, my dad always told me to "look it up."  Back then, he meant the encyclopedia or the dictionary (do you know how frustrating it is to have to look-up how to spell a word in the dictionary?  You don't know how it's spelled!   How are you supposed to look it up??) Now days, I do the equivalent with Google.  I wish Webster would have had cross-references like, "Do you mean BOLOGNA?"  But I digress. 

"Google it."  I'll say.  Yes, I'm the teacher and I'm supposed to be teaching -- but the way I see it, I'm teaching something far more powerful than Python and JavaScript.  I'm teaching them how to fish. I'm trying to feed them for a lifetime...and not just with Python. When Python becomes Go and Go becomes Clojure, they'll know how to translate, look up samples and eventually learn the complete syntax. There's definitely a lot of guidance yet to be given and someone has to steer the boat while the students focus on the sport of it.  In the end, I don't care whether they think I taught it to them or that they learned it themselves.  I only care that they have learned it and believe in themselves enough to do it again.

Wreck This Life ( Wabi-Sabi and the Perfection of Imperfection)

If you're a loyal reader (and you must be, since you're back after my multi-month hiatus) then you already know that I've been working diligently to embrace the beauty of serendipity and be more open to the wonderful opportunities that hide inside of ruined plans.  You can see a tiny example of this in the image to the left.  My friend, Cheri, took this photo.  It was intended to be a reminder of our irreverent evening out at Jameson's in Eugene.  I had tamed my hair perfectly, posed sweetly and had the most genuine smile on my face...but none of that came through.  Instead, we ended up with a side-lit image that just barely highlights my dimple as a random guy photo-bombs us with drunken excitement.  In a way, this random mash of elements is a much more accurate depiction of how the night went, even though the original subject was hijacked by ill-positioned lights and well-positioned strangers.

A "ruined" picture isn't that big of a deal anymore, is it? With the rapid-fire digital cameras that we all carry with us now days, we can just keep snapping until we get what we want.  It's a much bigger risk to ruin something else...like a drawing, a carpet, or a brand new book.  That's where Wreck This Journal comes in. I ran across a copy of it at Borders the other day and it only took a few pages to anchor itself to my heart. As someone who will buy a blank pad of paper and leave it sitting on my nightstand, terrified to make a mistake on such a pristine medium, I was utterly transformed by the message of WTJ.  The journal not only encourages you, it practically *begs* you, to do something wrong with it.  It wants you to fold it, tear it and get it dirty. It wants you to drip and rip and crease with reckless abandon.  It wants you to try things that you've not had the courage to try before and let go of the fear that you will do something incorrect.  It wants you to have your way with it -- have A HUNDRED different ways with it -- then stand back and realize that what you've done has given it a level of beauty that is impossible to reach when you walk a line of perfection.  In short, it asks you to do with your journal what I'm trying to do with my life!

These concepts aren't new.  In fact, the Japanese call the phenomenon wabi-sabi.  It's basically the belief that "nothing lasts, nothing is finished, and nothing is perfect."  It's the idea that something can be flawed and still be beautiful. It is permission to stop looking at your body with criticism and start embracing it as uniquely gorgeous. It's the ability to forgive mistakes as they are elements of your unique life experience.  It's the valve that releases the pressure to get everything right each step of the way. It's the knowledge that wrecking something doesn't always ruin it.

That said, it's important to realize that the idea of seeing the beauty in a wreck requires that there's something left.  I don't want anyone to get the idea that a wasted life is equally acceptable to me.  I wouldn't drop it in the trash or throw it in the fire, I just need to stop protecting it so diligently from the wear and tear that gives it purpose and character.  I don't want it stolen or kidnapped, but I would be happy to welcome a photo-bomber every now and again :D

What is Regret?

What is regret?  If someone asked me what my biggest regret was, I'd be tempted to say that I have none; Afterall, my life has been exactly what I've made of it. In its most simple form, however, regret just means "having a sense of sadness over something previously done".  Certainly I must feel that for something, mustn't I?

Truth be told, I have many little regrets:  not stopping to assist some ducks across the road, telling my first-grade teacher that I could count to 100 when I really could have counted ad infinitum, and not buying those shoes when they were on sale. 

My biggest regret is much more difficult to define.  Since we now know that I have at least one, I must have a "biggest regret."  That big regret has to be something larger than missing a great value on footwear.  In actuality, knowing myself, my biggest regret would have to be something to do with love.

Unfortunately, my most miserable experiences have brought me my most wonderful joys, so it's impossible for me to regret any of the bumps on the path that led to happiness.  Taken item for item, I wouldn't have traded any of the sucky moments knowing what they have brought me.  That's horribly depressing, because it means that my biggest regret actually *is* something like buying shoes at full price.  Gosh, now that I've said that, my biggest regret may be *not* having a big enough regret...I better work on that!

May the Force Be With Ye

Borrowed from HowStrange.com

I'm pretty sure I've seen all of the Star Wars movies at some point during my life (afterall, what kind of geek would I be if I hadn't) but I don't really remember them very well.  With my boys so deeply entrenched in all things Skywalker, I've decided that now is as good of a time as any to introduce them to the saga.

Like a good Gen-Xer, I decided to introduce the episodes in order of original release, meaning that we enjoyed "A New Hope" as our first family introduction to the Lucas franchise.  I loved watching my sons as they stared in awe at the screen.  My youngest, a six-year-old, cuddled up in the crook of my arm, hid his eyes at suspenseful times and constantly asked "Is he going to die?", "Why did he just kill that guy?" and "How are they going to escape?"

I learned a lot about my kids from watching them watch Star Wars, but I also learned a lot about myself.  In fact, maybe I should have called this blog "Everything I Learned About My Taste in Men, I Learned from Watching Epic Blockbusters."  Take for example Luke Skywalker; soooooo not my type.  The little blond pretty-boy thing doesn't work for me and neither does that false bravado hiding childish-naivete.  He does what's right because he's programmed to do so, not with any sort of passionate lightening spark.  Skywalker is a simple man with a farm-boy mindset and that just doesn't work for me. 

Han Solo, on the other hand, is much more appealing.  He's strong, confident and owns his own ship.  He appears to be aloof, but it doesn't actually take him very long to bond with the others despite an exterior attitude of callousness.  He doesn't live his life based on what he "should" do, but in the end he can be counted on. Still, he's in debt to some pretty bad people, doesn't have a lot of respect for women and lives his life as a selfish man-boy.  Three strikes.  Sorry, Solo.

Ya know who else is confident, aloof and owns his own ship?  That's right.  CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow.  Yes, he too is a disrespectful, selfish man-boy who's in debt to some *really* bad...er...people?...but with his quick wit, sexy accent and flair for acrobatics, I still kind of wonder what it would be like to wrestle his kraken.  I can tell you right now, I'd choose him over Will Turner in a heartbeat.

Will is very similar to Skywalker in my mind. He's outwardly brave, but a child-like innocent inside.  He has very little Joie de vivre, but somehow makes it through a lot of very dangerous situations with the help of a crew and one powerful woman.

Would you like to know who really floats my boat?  No, not Barbossa, you smart-ass; Admiral James Norrington.  Yes, Norrington, a brave and lawful man* who cherished his love once he found her and treated her always with respect and kindness.  When Elizabeth broke his heart by choosing Will, James ultimately wished them well as long as Elizabeth was happy.  Norrington was an intelligent and thoughtful man who knew his way around both a ship and a sword.  This is why he's my choice for Epic Movie Husband.  That's also why -- when everyone else is all aflutter on Friday watching "On Stranger Tides", I'll be mourning the death of a beloved character and sobbing into my popcorn.


*Granted, he became a bit less lawful as the sequels wore on, but when it came time to sacrifice his life for the good of others, he didn't have to be handcuffed to the ship by a woman who lured him there with sex.