making a difference. Justin Knabb's blog

A reflection on human progress

 

I want to reflect on the idea of progress for a moment, but not before pulling out this (somewhat arbitrary) snapshot from my trip through Portugal.

So often, within in my mind, I keep returning to this moment on this very rock.  This was 2004, and I was proudly alone, just outside sleepy Salema on the Algarve coast, staring out in the endless Atlantic Ocean.  I sat there for about a half hour that day, intoxicated by the view, the solitude, and separation from society.

I feel the closest to God in these purely meditative moments.  To be still, to have a clear mind, to still be void of adult responsibility and burdensome obligations, to be in awe of my surroundings... it was a joyful yet fleeting moment to hold on to.  With college graduation just one year away, this was a moment I was fortunate to have, and a moment worth remembering.

Fast-forward a year later and, of course, the end of the innocence finally arrives.

It's hard to let go of that feeling of innocence, even several years later.  The hedonistic side of my mind begs for more spiritual and soft progress in my life, yet the pragmatic side begs for my attention to a sort of tangible, hard and definitive progress.  What that progress is, I continue to wonder about... as many people do, I imagine.  Am I meant to build another dime-a-dozen business?  Am I meant to one day enter politics and project my ideologies on to the world around me?  Am I meant to somehow turn my circle of influence into some (certainly unattainable) Utopia?

Before the pedestrian reader of this blog post wonders where the hell I'm going with this, I better introduce the essay that sparked my mind-journey for this afternoon.  Enter The Economist's Idea of Progress--a bold and ambitious essay that is immensely broad in scope.  From connecting Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden all the way to George Orwell's 1984 dystopia, the writer(s) seeks to dissect the meaning from within all the cluttered ambitions we seem to be chasing.

While my mind will always stray back to that peaceful and empty beach in Portugal on that idle afternoon, the mission for progress--in so many different forms--is what I believe God desires for me to focus on.  It's truly incredible to think of our unique roles within this continuously evolving world.  For, as the essay spells out, we clearly seek progress in seemingly obvious forms: economically, morally, scientifically, etc.  Yet, as we continuously discover, progress is our yin and consequences are our yang.  While we grow, we lose our past.  New values substitute in for old ones.  New priorities weed out the old.  Progress supposedly leads to prosperity which leads to enlightenment.

Yet our own, personal definitions of what progress is, and what prosperity is, and what enlightenment is are all purely unique as well.  Certainly Justin Knabb and, say, Hu Jintao could not be further apart, for example.  Or Che Guevara and Ronald Reagan.  Or Charles Darwin and Thomas Merton. The questions will always remain: What really is progress, why are we determined to achieve it, and what progress truly is good and true and right?

The question will linger and linger, yet this guy's personal journey continues.  And somehow, I keep thinking it will ultimately, inevitably lead back to that gloriously empty moment alone with only God on that beach.

Still getting used to social media

It's been about a decade since I first started using the Internet.  I embrace it, I benefit from it, I take advantage of it... but it's still overwhelming.  This new ocean of much-saturated information... populated with millions of so-called experts... navigating through all the hype, spin, and everything-realtime... well, it will probably always be this way.

I'll never forget the day when Dad first had our family signed up for an AOL account.  When looking back at the communications schematic now, I feel as Alexander Graham Bell must have felt later about smoke signals after the first phone transmissions.  Our family couldn't even be on the landline telephone (all there really was then) because AOL was monopolizing the lines coming into our home.

It's incredible to reflect on how much has happened and changed since then.  Today our heads are almost a mere extension of this Internet that truly drives the brain of the world.

Two pretty smart and savvy tech guys from O'Reilly Radar also seem to be taking a step back to reflect too.

Check out Scott Berkun's post about "Calling Bullshit on Social Media," and then Joshua-Michéle Ross's rebuttal, "In Defense of Social Media."

The way our world keeps growing and accelerating and gyrating, who knows if we'll ever truly figure this new age of "social media" out.

The great urban experience

As I'm walking through Philadelphia this weekend, my mind shoots back to January 2004.  As of late, that particular point in time actually comes to mind frequently.  January 2004 was when I first arrived in Milan, Italy.  That was when I first experienced living in a city.  I've been hooked ever since.

Perhaps the way that Thoreau yearned for solitude in the woods or Kelly Slater yearns for beach towns, I've learned that I naturally yearn for life in the city.  There's always a surprise around each corner... always a new place to discover just a block away... everyone living in compact quarters within such a small radius.  There's nothing like being part of a truly vibrant, eclectic and interesting city.

Philadelphia will always be among my favorites, and not just because it's essentially home.

Along with my friend, Matt, I discovered one particularly awesome place near Rittenhouse Square called Monk's Cafe this weekend.  They call themselves a "Belgian Beer Emporium and Restaurant," but that just begins to describe the experience there.  I felt like I was actually transported back to Belgium, where I visited in June 2004.  Their menu is filled with hundreds of beers, imported from around the world and especially from Belgium.  Prices per bottle average from $8 for more common Belgian ales to $100+ for the rare brews.  With such an overwhelming selection to pick from, to the cavernous feel of the place and the scattered candles over the copper-top bar, it all made for such a great "experience."

And that is what I'm always finding in Philly and other cities.  Great "experiences."  It's safe to say that lots of restaurants simply fill needs-- i.e. Fox and Hound as a sports bar (where we actually spent watching the Villanova NCAA tourney game prior to Monk's).  And some restaurants are just over-the-top, unreasonably expensive, and once the food is digested and the bill paid, you wonder if the whole amount of time and money spent was really worth it-- i.e. McCormick & Schmick's.

But places like Monk's, like Nodding Head, like any of Stephen Starr's incredible restaurants... they are awesome experiences.  They may still be relatively expensive, but you can at least discern the value added.  They're clearly promoting not just great menu's, but a new lens from which to view a meal, a night, a lifestyle.  How much more fun and interesting is it to be part of a grand symphony rather than just the same old elevator music?

Speaking of Stephen Starr, I walked by his new Parisian bistro, Parc, yesterday afternoon around 4pm.  This was about the time when my mind rushed back to Milan.  Parc is a slice of Europe brought to Philly: The grand and elegant cafe, people sitting at outdoor tables lining the sidewalks, and the waiters and waitresses dressed in white, formal attire.  Seeing the scene at Parc brought back that feeling of home that I first began to feel in Milan.

I'm just so fascinated with the study of urban design, and the places and people and activities that fill in those spaces.  Or, rather, the way those finite structures might inspire all that come to fill in those spaces.  It's just that, as I walk around Rittenhouse Square in Philly, as I walk through Union Square in New York... and Harvard Square in Boston... and Golden Gate Park in San Francisco... and the National Mall in Washington, DC... and Millennium Park in Chicago... and the Zocalo in Oaxaca, Mexico... and many other cities...it continues to amaze me at the remarkable way that good urban design, places and communities play out.

You just know it when you see it.  It makes great sense.  It doesn't feel forced, it feels right.  It's natural.  It's the warm, cozy feel you get as you sit inside Monk's Cafe sipping imported Belgian brews at 3pm on an idle Saturday.  It's the satisfaction you feel from buying artisan goods in an open-air market versus at a cash register under the florescent lights at Wal-Mart.  It's the pride you feel in sharing the "experience" with your neighbors around you who also seem to just "get it."

Good urban design.  I'm going to keep delving deeper into this topic over the next few weeks.

Religulous

I just finished watching "Religulous," a documentary made by comedian Bill Maher this past year that questions a handful of the "popular" religions around the world.  He led a fascinating pilgrimage around the world-- interviewing Jesus imitators, rabbi's, Muslims, marijuana-smoking clergy-- in search of some answers.  His skepticism of all things religion only grew as he went along, and to his credit, he clearly did his research and went into each interview and house of worship with some thought-provoking arguments.

I am a proud Catholic, and I do not share Bill Maher's overall viewpoint that "religion" is, in itself, a bad compass for the world.  I do agree with Mr. Maher, however, that our religious compasses-- whatever they may be-- should always, always be vigorously examined.  It is certainly no small nor uncontroversial endeavor on his part to make a documentary taking aim at faiths that are the main concern of many people's lives.  According to some sources I checked, there are some 4,200+ faith-based groups in the world, comprising of about 90% of people on the planet. I respect Mr. Maher's effort (albeit biased and characteristically sarcastic effort) to dive in, explore, and make his atheist-perspective pilgrimage a public one.

My own hope for the world is that all religions ultimately focus on "love for our neighbor," which some of us call the Golden Rule.  Father Joe Mostardi, a Catholic priest who directed the Augustinian Volunteer program I participated in from 2005-06, once said to me that he believes all Earthly sins can also be boiled down to one foundational sin, "selfishness."  And, if nothing else, my own faith is a great value system in terms of how to live one's life-- one filled with love, compassion, and selflessness. 

In Religulous, I was reminded again that Mr. Maher is an expert interviewer as he crafted his questions in such a way that made lifelong religious pilgrims look like fools.  But one key point that he missed amidst his own thick cloud of doubt, I believe, was the essence of religious life that keeps people coming back again and again.  And that is love for each other... the sense of community... the exploration for understanding and truth... the wonder of our natural surroundings and the everyday miracles of life... the desire to know that our lives really do matter.

Mr. Maher questions how much better we would be without religion running our politics and our world.  I want to ask him back, how boring would our world be without our differing perspectives of a God or Gods, a savior, a particular "Bible," a set of values, a longing for community, a longing for deeper meaning.  Surely, we cling to our own religions and defend them almost blindly.  We believe the distinct traditions handed down to us are, in fact, true and that our distinct way is, in fact, the right way.  And our distinct religions can and do sometimes get a black eye.  Many Catholic priests-- among a majority of great ones-- have missed the mark and have molested young children over the years.  Many Muslims-- again, among a majority of great ones-- have missed the mark and taken jihad to such a radical degree that they desire to kill everyone in the Americas.  There are, of course, many more of these types of stories associated with any and all religious groups.

But are these inconsistencies not the hallmark of mankind?  We often need to be corrected; that is simply the way we are.  Yet it is not true that the majority of people will always naturally gravitate towards some faith or belief system the same way we would yearn for water in the desert?  Why fight this natural instinct?  Why not embrace it?

Why not embrace each other, and strive to understand and appreciate each other?  So long as the common law is a mutual respect for our neighbor, why not embrace our diverse assortments of religions?  After all, we are human.  We have our shortcomings, we don't have the answers, and we are all so, so different from one another.  Instead of cringing at other faiths, or faith in general, why have some respect and dig for the deeper stories underneath?

Perhaps it be a story rooted in intense experiences in quiet solitude while camping among mountains and grassy knolls and stars filling the sky overhead?  Perhaps a story of the utter joy and profound connection wrapped into a kiss?  Perhaps a story that captures the feeling that overwhelms you as you hold the hand of a loved one dying in her hospital bed?  Perhaps a story considering the daily and undying restlessness for realizing a greater purpose?

Mr. Maher attacks religion, but he's attacking the wrong object.  He's really attacking hope... hope in something greater than ourselves.  That's what religion really is.  The 90-some-percent of people on this planet that associate with a religion are essentially trying to associate with a sort of hope that gives them gravitas.  I say, thank God for evidence of such restlessness... thank God for such a sign of commitment and community... thank God for even giving us all life after all.

Thoughts... February '09.

What I'm learning in 2009 thus far on the economy:

• The economy, especially here in the US, continues to grow far worse than even the most gloomy pessimists ever seemed to forecast.
• People, in general, are the most stressed, depressed, and frustrated than I've ever seen in my life.
• Words like "sobering," "bailout," "stimulus," and "blame" pepper every news outlet, every day.  If we're not on economic life-support by now, we're sure doing a fine job convincing ourselves we are.

What I'm learning thus far on our hopes for the future:

• If there is any inspiration for some optimism, it's definitely coming from the Oval Office.  People across the world are still excited about the fresh leadership and policies being proposed by President Obama.
• There are still no massive strides being made on the clean, renewable energy front.  Will Pickens' Plan or the Better Place plan ever come to fruition?

What I'm learning all the time regarding life in general:

• It's surprisingly challenging to find friends who actually enjoy what they're doing for a living.
• Life is full of compromises.  You may dream of "starting a life" (aka family) in San Francisco or New York, but genealogy, geography and odd life circumstances sometimes just get in the way :(
• Finding truly good, truly interesting, truly passionate, truly loving people... VERY VERY hard to come by.
• Finding love... always, very hard to come by.  Those who find it should know how truly lucky and blessed they are.
• The clock keeps ticking and ticking.  There's not a minute to waste not living (or striving to live) the life you imagine.
• As frustrating as things get, I always try to remind myself that God is most certainly good.

I'm an addict.

This NYT article confirmed it:

Here.

Some days I'm not sure if the world spins faster-and-faster, or if the pace of news and buzz is picking up speed like a cyclone.  I think it's both, but regardless, the current affairs of the world quickly become a black hole where productivity goes to die.

With the election in full swing, with the economy in the trenches, with the Phillies in the playoffs, with Facebook blasting newsfeeds on my friends in real-time, and so much great content out there... it's just tough to ignore.

Will our information mediums and Long Tails continue to accelerate and evolve?  Or will we eventually grow tired and substitute our computers and TVs for actual, real life again?

As an addict currently living in the former world, I definitely aspire to head back to the latter.

O Captain, My Captain

I'm about to deliver a toast this afternoon to one of the most--if not the most--influential teachers in my life, Bob Fleck.  After 35 years teaching at Exeter Township Senior High School, he is finally stepping down to pursue new ventures in life.  But, truly, there will never be another Mr. Fleck to walk through the halls of my alma mater.  He is such an original... a 60-something-year-old man still sporting a pony tail and Native American headdresses... a passionate student of life who will forever "suck the marrow from life" each day... a man who has inspired countless students to pursue their dreams and make a difference in this world.  To him I give this toast today, at his retirement party.  What an honor it will be to be there and pay tribute to this man whom I can never quite repay my debt of gratitude...

O Captain, My Captain... Mr. Fleck... it is such an honor to toast you on this day.  You have shaped and molded and inspired my life more than even I might fathom (scary, eh?!).  No doubt many others have come before me in this regard, but nonetheless I am deeply proud to count myself as one of them.

O Captain, My Captain...  You know, Mr. Fleck, I often wondered which really came first.  Was it that epic film "Dead Poets Society" from which those four words became known?  Or was it you?  Because you ARE John Keating... and he is you.  You ARE Robin Williams.  You ARE that captain who has challenged so many of us to take those roads less traveled.  And like Mr. Keating, you are a true original... perhaps the most original educator and man I've ever known. 

I know that film has been an inspiration to you, but for sure, I thought it was Hollywood that made that film about your outstanding teaching career.  We'll just have to assume they left out some details.  You know, perhaps the part about the 50-year-old hippie still sporting wild Indian headdresses, ponytails, and still bumming around with ghosts on assorted battlefields in Gettysburg.

Mr. Fleck, having been fortunate to make it through the American public school system, and then a four-year-university at Villanova, I can confidently say: You are the most inspirational and influential teacher I have ever had. 

I miss your class so much.  And having been away for some time, I missed your guidance and life advice so much.  But you have this way of offering us all a torch... a torch to carry out into the world as if to remind us to "seize the day!"

"Seize the day," I think, as I turn up the volume in my car and sing-along to Billy Joel's "I Go to Extremes," which you played on our last day of class.  In moments like that, I decided there was nothing "too high" I shouldn't do... that life should be lived "as all or nothing at all."

"Seize the day," I remember, as I look to my bookshelf and see "The Killer Angels," which you gave me as a trophy for successfully assuming a leadership role for our Gettysburg battle re-enactments.  In moments like that I learned I could lead.

"Seize the day," I recall, as I call upon the history lessons I learned in your class.  The New Deal, the Great Depression, the Greatest Generation, and "our" generation... you reminded us that we're all part of this great puzzle.  We're all living history, just as much as you are and those that have come before us.

Thank you for all these lessons, Mr. Fleck.  You taught us that the greatest part about history is actually the present and the future.  The world rests in our hands and even as mere everyday citizens, we have the power to make a difference... whether in the context of our local community, global policies or even in the context of creating our own family.

There are two last, specific things I would also like to thank you for today, Mr. Fleck.  First, thank you for inspiring in me the benefit of traveling and see the world.  I had you for A.P. U.S. History, but your curriculum, your classroom and your message were always based on a larger world-view. I'm proud to say I crafted my college and humanitarian careers in such a way that I'd make the world my classroom.  Fortunately I've made it around a bit and am up to country #26 by now.  I appreciate you staying in touch and supporting me as I have sent emails during these adventures.

Also, number two, thank you for sharing yourself over the years.  In particular, thank you for simply choosing to decorate your classroom over the years.  For a young, impressionable guy like me, your classroom was a living museum.  It was like the "Yankee Stadium" of history.  Those glaring images of Che Guevara, of Lenin, and the great thinkers of our time staring down at you each morning... they really have this impression on you.  Fortunately I was able to be part of the Fleck yard sale extravaganza a few months ago and claim my piece of this historic place.  Today, in fact, I keep posters from the famous Apple Computer "Think Different" campaign (which once hung in your classroom) hanging in my office.  I guess it's like my "shrine to Fleck" and a constant inspiration throughout the day.

If only those walls could talk.  The stories we all could share... a particular story sticks out, which was from homecoming when we were making posters with crayons and markers and such.  My friend, Nate, happened to need a marker, so he asked: "Mr. Fleck, do have a large marker?"  Without hesitation, you responded, "Well, Nate, for that you would have to ask my wife."

Secondly, of course your classroom extended beyond those four walls.  After a good night's sleep on our Gettysburg trip, I'll never forget your dramatic entrance to the day when you woke up among all of  (many of whom were Jewish) and, instead of saying "Ah, to be young and foolish!," you of course, said "Ah, to be young and Jewish!"  We're still not sure what it meant but we laugh about it to this day.  Truly, every single day with you was a new memory.

In closing, I would like to share an excerpt from Dead Poet's Society that I believe captures the essence of you.  It's about poetry, but we might as well substitute "history" for "poetry:"

We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, "O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless... of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?" Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. (Again) That the powerful play *goes on* and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?

And, truly, what will our verses be like?  I believe this is essentially what you have challenged us to do over your career, Mr. Fleck... to craft our own verses of this human story with these lives we've been given.  And, of course, to do so in an extraordinary way.  Thank you for your inspiration over the years and your own contribution to education.  I wish you nothing but the best for your retirement, and may God bless you... O Captain, My Captain...

SHINING eyes

Contrary to the topic of my last post (guns!), it feels good to put some positive spin back on my blog.  These two clips that I'm putting on here have really shaken me to the core within the last few hours.

Ben Zander's TED talk "Classical music with shining eyes" is one of the single best presentations I've ever seen... and HEARD.  He's plays a beautiful Chopin piece on the piano and dissects the larger meaning of his work for us.  As always, he leaves me in tears and a renewed hope in mankind.

 

 

Finally, here is an extremely cool website that I discovered last night: www.wherethehellismatt.com.  Basically, the guy traveled the world (about 50 different countries) and hundreds of different cities to introduce his crazy, original dance to, well, the world.  With Garry Schyman's beautiful song "Praan" as the background music, the clip of Ethopians, Parisians, Brazilians, Americans, and Papua New Guinians all dancing along with Matt Harding is truly truly uplifting.  Just watch this clip... absolutely PHENOMENAL!

 

Annie get your gun?

So... why not divulge my thoughts on gun rights?

Let's get started.  I think guns are absolutely ridiculous. 

Aside from sporting rifles for trap shooting, I think guns are insanely wrong.  And unless the Taliban one day, miraculously, conquers our coastlines and comes running towards my home and my family, I plan to never even consider owning or using a gun.

Guns are meant to kill people.  I'll say it again, guns are meant to KILL people.  I see absolutely no intrinsic good in possessing a device designed for the sole purpose of killing another human being.  Many argue that they are meant to protect people, but if presented with life-threatening situations, well, we can always resort to metal baseball bats or good old bare-knuckled fists.  At least these "weapons" were created for better uses.

There you have it.  My frank opinion on guns.  If that really ticks anyone off, then I can certainly live with that.  At least I can sleep well at night knowing that I'll go through my life never being presented with the chance to shoot anybody.

The United States Supreme Court ruled against a current ban on handguns in Washington, D.C. just days ago.  I don't understand the gun culture of our country anymore (actually I never did).  Conservatives are celebrating the ruling like the Pope just came to town, and President Bush is even applauding the ruling stating that it's wonderful that the justices stood up for the "sacredness" of gun rights.

Sacredness?  Guns kill people, Mr. Bush.  How could you possibly use the word "sacred" and "gun" in the same sentence?

Gun rights were certainly an important step towards establishing and preserving freedom in our great country... 250 years ago.  However, I really believe our 2nd Amendment is outdated.  As recorded on our Bill of Rights, the 2nd Amendment reads as such:

A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.

What really bothers me is the operative word "necessary," closely followed by the specific phrase, "A well regulated Militia."  I mean, come on... in 2008, with a strong state-run military and peace here on our homeland, I absolutely do not think guns are necessary to preserve the security of a free state.  Furthermore, do the millions of gunholders in the United States really make up any form of "well regulated militias?"

Give me a break.  Why are we fooling ourselves by following this archaic language word-for-word?  Even the best written and thought-out statues need to be updated.  Even the Bible shouldn't be read 100% literally like this. 

Where's our common sense?  Why the urgent and necessary need to keep and bear arms?   Can we please amend this one day soon?  I think times have changed since 1776.

And now, with the NRA jubilant and excited to fight for further relaxation of handgun bans across the country, including my old city, San Francisco, we can and should expect all hell to break loose.  In the words of Washington, D.C.'s mayor: "I can promise you that Washington will certainly be less safe because of this ruling."  The argument that gun advocates make about guns making us safe is such bullshit.  That's like saying that wars are meant to put an end to all wars.  That's like saying that legalizing marijuana cuts down on crime and enhances personal freedom.  These are very, very lousy examples of ends justifying the means.

When I speak out against gun rights to my gun-advocate friends, they often respond with: "Well, Justin, what if someone robbed your house and threatened to hold your family at gunpoint?  Shouldn't you have the right to bear arms and defend yourself?"

Valid point.  A handgun might just be justified in such an instance.  But my response is and continues to be: "What are the chances of that happening?"

There is a lot of hate, violence and greed in our world and there always will be.  But I've been alive for nearly 26 years now, which equates to a bit less than 9,500 days.  Not one minute in one of those days have I ever felt threatened enough to desire a gun.  Just the same, I think I can go 9,500 more days and 20,000+ days beyond that without needing a gun either. 

But what if...

What if someone does rob my home one day and threatens my family at gunpoint?  I can hope for-- perhaps one final time-- an all-loving and merciful God waiting on the other side.  I can hope for a streak of conscience to somehow hit our attacker.  But there are two thing I would be certain about.  One is that I will clench my fists and fight 'till the death, and the other is that at least those left behind might know of a Justin Knabb that was a man of peace -- true to his word and morals.

I just fail to understand why so many people in our country wouldn't feel the same way.  Why do they put so much energy and emotion into securing their right to bear arms?  Shouldn't we be more focused on solving and preventing the causes of violence rather than continuing to patch these problems up with our selfish need for more guns?

What if our friends running the NRA used this energy to help feed the millions of hungry people in Africa instead?  What if they used their abundant funds to build up scholarships so kids can get off the streets and get college educations instead?  What if they encouraged people to recycle their no-good guns and build steel monuments of peace and reconciliation?

Unfortunately, these advocates are not part of any solution for peace and unity at all.  I feel that guns represent all that is wrong with our country and unfortunate still, the NRA only seems to be growing in strength.  Sure, people that want guns will always be able to acquire guns, whether they are readily available or restricted to black market trade.  But we must not overlook the countless, senseless deaths from gun accidents and violence each year.  We must offer and maintain incentives for putting our guns down and promoting peace and unity.

New York Times: Gun laws and crime - a complex relationship

Future of social networking

Michael Arrington predicts the future of social networking.  Basically, should his predictions come to fruition, "fateful encounters" and "coincidences" as we know them today may cease to exist?!

INSANE.