he regresado

The big news is that I'm back from Florida and I'm hairless. On a whim I decided to shave my head (in part because I know other things may prevent me from doing this in the future, like having a job or a wife, for example). Perhaps my favorite part of this has been watching people's responses. It usually starts with their eyes getting very big, then their mouth opens for a few seconds as they try to figure out what to say, and then they always ask why. The fact that it's always the first question makes me think this may not have been the best move, but I'm not too worried. The truth is that I don't have a good reason, so I've been making them up. I've tried, "I wanted to loose weight," or "I wanted to be more aerodynamic to increase lift." I like the classic, "I lost a fight with a lawnmower," but the most laughs come when I say "I just wanted to look tougher." I don't know why.

On a serious note, I was deeply shocked and saddened to hear news of the untimely passing of Stan Grenz last week. I was blessed by the one short opportunity I had to meet Stan and his wife Edna in January. He was generous and open with us, a group of college students trying to figure out our calling. I particularly appreciated how willing he was to share his personal struggles and fears about ministry. His love and affection for his wife was obvious. His combination of wisdom and compassion was an example of truly living a theology.

As we enter Holy Week we are reminded of the now-but-not-yet-ness of the kingdom. As Ann Weems says, we only understand the alleluias of Easter because of the darkness of Good Friday. The forgotten definition of the word passion is "the state of being acted upon." It comes fromt he same root as passive. Perhaps as we approach Easter we should let go of constantly wanting to do, to go, to act in the name of Christ. The Reformed tradition is all about doing - but maybe we should focus on being this passion-tide. Dean has written about letting go of our kingdom-building aspirations, and it's easy to get pulled in the direction of "making a difference" and "changing the world." As I think about Christ letting go of "equality with God" this Holy Week, maybe I could let go of my pride and remember passion is about being acted upon and not acting.

I'm off

I know I haven't been posting much lately, and for that I apologize. I'm off today for a spring break camping trip in the Florida panhandle. I've never done this before so I'm very excited! But it means I've been quite busy trying to get everything together before I go and haven't had time to post about Thorobus, Calvin basketball, Jurgen Moltmann, my new haircut, the new Anne LaMott, or any of the other thigns on my mind. I think things will be calmer when I get back, so until then...

the bad and the good

It's only noon on Saturday and it's already been a busy weekend! A lot of things have been on my mind lately, which means they're likely to show up in my blog.

Kent and I planned a Friday hymnsing chapel for yesterday, and he's blogged about it here and here. Yesterday morning I got to Calvin and found out that a Calvin student had passed away suddenly in what may have been suicide. I know of no more tragic death than suicide, and we didn't hesitate before changing our plans for the service. The original theme had been Christ's fulfillment of the OT sacrificial system through his role as the sacrificial lamb of God slain for our sins - lots of substitutionary atonement. A lot of the songs we had picked fit with a service of lament, but one of the things we had to change was the intercessory prayer. The dominant emotions as I sat down to re-write were confusion and anger. I didn't feel like leading worship, I didn't feel like worshipping, I didn't feel like doing anything. About then I remembered, it's not about me. I had the opportunity to lead my community in worship at a time when many of them didn't have anywhere else to turn but worship. I got to voice their cries to God when some of them didn't have the words to speak. What an awesome privilege and responsibility! Of course it brought me back to the chapel Kent and I had to lead on the morning we found out about Daryl's accident. Please pray for Rachelle Goedhart's family and friends as we are here at Calvin.

Then yesterday afternoon I was fortunate to meet with one of my favorite groups of people: the Lilly Vocation Grant Committee. This is the third year in a row I've had the chance to share with them about my experiences with Lilly grant programs. I know several of them from other contexts, so it's been a joy to have them follow my vocational journey, encouraging and supporting me along the way. It also provided me with a chance to reflect on how far I've come in these three years. When I think back to who I was when I started the Worship Apprentice program, he doesn't look too much like the person I am now as an alum of WA and Jubilee Fellows (For more insight into that young impressionable version of me you can read my first attempt at a blog of sorts - the 02-03 WA Journal I wrote). The best part was getting to have lunch with Sandy Vander Ploeg, a committee member who's my Mom's best friend from high school and college days. Mom will be so jealous.

For some unrelated reasons I was a bit grumpy when I got home last night, and it turned out my roommate Nathan was too. We decided the best course of action was to go out and stuff ourselves with excellent Mexican food, which we did. We've been spending more time together lately - it's good to live with a solid brother in Christ like Nate. We had project neighborhood class on urban socialization this morning. We were just getting into a good discussion of how to find a balance between a personally-focused evangelism-based Christianity and a societally-focused inclusive but doctrinally watered down Christianity when we ran out of time. Next time we get to talk about white flight and gentrification! In other news, the Calvin men's basketball team beat Wheaton in the first round of the NCAA D-III tournament. Take that you Evangelicals! And the Dodgers lost a spring training game to the Braves on a botched double-play attempt in the bottom of the ninth that would have won the game. Again, those dumb Dodgers...

neo-calvinism

The big news around here is that our little blog-ommunity has been labeled Neo-Calvinist. I'm not sure what that means since I haven't had time to investigate Mr. Strauss' blog yet. Kent made a typically witty comment about the label, but the whole situation brings up some interesting questions for me.

The first is inevitable: how is a neo-Calvinist different from your regular, stock Calvinist? Is it simply the fact that I'm under the age of 25? Second, am I really a Calvinist? I grew up in a very Calvinist home (for which I'm grateful - thanks Mom and Dad), but as a 21 year old student I'm supposed to be searching a bit, right? Right now I'm particularly struggling with issues of determinism, predestination, foreknowledge, and free will (thank you Prof. Crump), and the Calvinist view is not necessarily cutting the mustard at the moment. I know my anfechtung is pretty insignificant in the big picture, but I felt like it would be a good idea to set the record straight. Third, does this mean people are actually reading this? The internet is such a tricky place because of the pseudo-anonymity. I was pretty confident the readers of this blog were limited to Kent, Bethany, Dean, my sister (maybe), and my mom (probably). Not that I mind - what I put up here is for public consumption. But the aforementioned are the audience I have in mind when I write. Now I'll have these muddled ideas about who I'm writing to (and delusions of grandeur, for that matter). Oh well, this is the way things go. I had been planning to make this blog a bit more public next fall anyway, so that when I'm in Hungary people can keep up with what's going on. (Have I mentioned I'm moving to Hungary next fall?) So, Mr. Strauss, I hope you enjoy your look into what is really more like a cabal than a coterie.

On a side note, the first Dodgers update of the year is that they're 1-1 after 2 Spring Training games. Of course, like the Dodgers, they won their first game on the pitching of a whole bunch of people nobody's ever heard of, and today Jeff Weaver, the guy who two years ago was going to be their next big ace, got shelled for the loss. His salary is probably 5 times what they pay the 4 guys who pitched well for them yesterday. Those dumb Dodgers...

Jubilee!

I'm back from my whirlwind trip to Pittsburgh for the Jubilee Conference run by the Coalition for Christian Outreach. It was a fantastic weekend for a number of reasons - especially catching up with old friends! The theme of Jubilee this year (and every year) is connecting your faith to what you do in the classroom, the gym, the club, the grocery store, and anywhere else (sound familiar Calvin people?). The difference is that the CCO is often giving people their first exposure to this. As a campus ministry organization that works on both secular and Christian campuses, they're teaching people for the first time that a Christian doctor does things differently because he or she is a Christian (and that doesn't mean just praying for patients either). The Saturday afternoon seminars are chosen by area of academic interest, so you can learn about teaching as a Christian, business as a Christian, politics as a Christian, etc. (Check out the list of seminars here) Again, this is nothing new for Calvin folk, but what was new and refreshing was watching other people respond to it. Their passion reminded me why this stuff is so important. We've beat the idea of a Christian worldview to death at Calvin, but the truth is that it's an important concept. Being told to engage culture with discernment causes a gag reflex for us, but I saw people this weekend being freed from a lifetime of watching and listening to crap simply because it's "Christian." I also saw people genuinely struggling to understand why the most important thing for a talented musician who is a Christian might not be to preach about Jesus in their songs. I don't want to sound to high on Calvin here, but we often take it for granted.

The main plenary speakers were the highlight for me. Again, nothing revolutionary, but solid, Biblical teaching that encouraged us to be forces for positive change by interacting with the world in the name of Jesus. The lineup included Elaine Storkey, a lecturer at Wycliffe Hall in Oxford and president of Tearfund - a international charity, Saleem Ghubril, a one-time Lebanese refugee who is now the head of the Pittsburgh Project and actually got to deliver the eulogy at Mr. Rogers' funeral (yes, that Mr. Rogers), and John Perkins, the Mississippi civil rights activist and community development worker who really needs no introduction. They were all excellent in their own ways: Storkey for raising awareness of prominent global issues (specifically international debt and global warming) and discussing a Christian response to them, Ghubril for his heartwarming and convicting challenge to get involved, and Perkins for his inspiring call to be a force for change in our communities and churches. (For more detailed bios check this out).

One of the seminars I went to was by Carl Trueman, a professor at Westminster Seminary. Now I'm not really high on Westminster, but this guy spoke on a topic that is near and dear to my heart: the idolatry of the theological practice. Scholars of theology need to talk about how to be a Christian theologian because it's not as simple as it seems. How do you keep a balance between talking about God and talking to God? How can you be a good parishioner when you know more about theology or the bible than your pastor does? And, most importantly, how do you prevent the subtle shift from worshipping God to worshipping knowledge of God? Trueman did a very nice job with his discussion, though it had the overtones of a conservative who sees himself as in constant battle with the ultra-liberal academy.

I also had another big question answered for me this weekend: yes, it is possible to modulate eight times in one song. Don't get me wrong - the worship leader was terrific and thoughtful, his band was tight, and everything was well done - but the man simple loved to modulate! He was good at it and it always felt very smooth and appropriate. Yet, I can't help wondering if it was too much. I wonder if I was the only one who noticed (I'm pretty confident I'm not). And I also wonder why nobody ever modulates down. Why can't we drop a song of confession down a half step before the last refrain to add that extra depth of despair? Can't we throw a few downward modulations in the next kyrie we sing? This is lent after all!

So, all in all, I had a wonderful weekend of Jubilee! I even got to spend an hour walking around the 'Burgh feeling homesick for Pennsylvania. Maybe I'll try to post some of my pictures later.

it's back!

On yet another unrelated side note, I'm proudly wearing my L.A. Dodgers t-shirt because pitchers and catchers report for spring training today. The Dodgers themselves don't report until the 18th, but I couldn't help myself. Only 45 days until opening day!

a word about my title

Several people (well, at least one) have asked me about the name of this blog. The Oxford English Dictionary defines bemusing as, "making utterly confused or muddled, as with intoxicating liquor; putting into a stupid stare, stupefying." Now I have a thing for syntactic ambiguity in sentences. Sentences like "Kent is cooking in the kitchen" are particularly delightful. Is Kent stirring the pot, or is he in the pot? So, back to my title, that wonderful little apostrophe leaves the meaning up for grabs.

Depending on if the "s" is possessive or the contraction, it could mean the content of this blog is stupefying, or that I am personally the intoxicating liquor. Or, with a little creativity, it could even refer to the fact that I'm "Given to or characterized by meditation; contemplative, thoughtful, dreamy" (the adjective form of musing). (On a side note, I've always wanted to be dreamy...) But my point here is that between this sort of ambiguity and the incredible synonymy of English we have an amazing language to play with and enjoy. (Another side note, "synonymy" has three "y"s in it. I can't think of any other three-"y" words, let alone a word with more than three. Anybody else have one?) So seeing English as a merely functional thing is a tragedy. As for which of those meanings I was going for when I named this blog? That's right, all of them.

KJV God?

Two thoughts from my Reformation Theology lecture:

1) Today we were told that the late Middle Ages was a time of "great upheaval and turmoil." While I'm sure this is true (Bubonic Plague, corrupt Papacy, rise of the nation state, the first rumblings of the renaissance, etc.), I feel like I've now heard every era of human history described this way. You can move straight from the Late Middle Ages into the Reformation era and on into the Enlightenment and you still have turmoil and upheaval. Then you get the Romantics and the Moderns with their vast attempts to recreate society before arriving at the wars and Postmodernity and finally our current information age - still plenty of "upheaval and turmoil" as far as I can see. When are we going to get the fact that these will be a part of life as long as we're on this side of the eschaton?

2) We got into a discussion of the importance of having scripture translated into vernacular languages which prompted our professor to talk lovingly about the King James Version he grew up on. He claimed he still has trouble addressing God as "you" (as opposed to "thou") and suggested a return to "thee"s and "thou"s might be advantageous to the church because we have no formal language for God today. The direct quote is, "We talk about God as we might talk about a rock star." I agree with him that we have no such formal language, but is a return to KJV English really the solution? Is this really a problem? When does reverence trump clarity? Can we be reverent while speaking the way we usually do? One of the things everyone says about my grandfather is that he preached in a different voice than he normally used. I'll admit that makes a lot of sense to me. I'm not advocating "thee" and "thou," but can we do something to our language that can instill a sense of awe to our worship?

objectivity in biology

This morning I sat through my first biology lecture in 6 years. It's been a while, but it's all coming back to me - especially the phospho-lipid bilayer. Today, however, we laid a little groundwork for our future discussions of cell biology. Part of that was Del Ratzsch's definition of science:

"Science is a theoretical explanatory discipline that objectively addresses natural phenomena with the general constraints that theories must be rationally connectable to generally specifiable empirical phenomena and that it normally does not leave the natural realm for the concepts employed in its explanations."

Besides being a mouthful, this brings up some interesting questions for me, primarily with my professor's view of objectivity. He claimed that in the scientific realm objectivity meant examining and addressing all data available, not just data that supports your claims. For him objectivity was not necessarily about approaching a question without prejudice or bias, except when they prevent you from examining certain data. The more I think about this way of looking at objectivity, the more I like it. We obviously have our prejudices, but objectivity is lost when they blind us to information out there.

It's got me thinking about objectivity as a form of humility. In the scientific sense, we lose it when we start to think we don't need data from certain sources. An unbiased person has the humility to acknowledge and evaluate information from all sources. Any thoughts from the peanut gallery?

the post you've been waiting for (almost)

I apologize to regular readers for not posting for nearly two weeks. My excuses are many, including a week-long visit by my parents, the hob-nobbing that went along with my Dad's January Series lecture, getting the flu, friends returning from interims away, and the general stuff of life. Some updates though...

With reference to my last post, the meeting was almost as frustrating as the original newspaper article that started it all. The good news was about 100 people showed up. The bad was that no plans were made, no strategies were formed, and probably nothing will come of it. For the 100 people in the room it was a time of healing and reconciliation. Sadly, I think it will likely stop there except for people already involved in the community. This was not the start of a new anti-racism initiative that I hoped it would be. I am, however, more and more convinced that the solution involves white people in this community crossing the residential segregation lines. I learned this community is the second most residentially segregated community in the most residentially segregated state in the US. People will never stop seeing race in terms of "us" and "them" until they become comfortable and not fearful around people of other races.

As I mentioned I had a lovely time with Mom and Dad. His lecture seemed to go well, and their visit gave me opportunity to see friends and family I don't often get together with. I was surprised how different their visit here was from my visit home at Christmas. I felt remarkably more at ease with them here, showing how much this community has become my home. I think I'll always have the mountains in my blood, but this little Midwestern city feels very comfortable to me these days. That must mean it's time to move.

And I'm supposed to be sharing my thoughts on The Openness of God for our book club, Thorubos. I haven't gotten too far because I'm actually in the middle of several books at the moment: My Story as Told by Water by David James Duncan, How the Irish Saved Civilization by Thomas Cahill, and most recently Receiving the Day by Dorothy Bass. It's hard to make headway on any individual one because they're all so good! So, for now, I refer you to my excellent friends Kent and Bethany. Of course if you are Kent or Bethany (which is highly likely) I apologize for not posting anything on open theism yet. At least I put up something!

urban life

(Listening to John Legend)

In an hour the mayor is going to be leading a community meeting at my church next door to discuss the recent spike in violent crime among minorities in our community. A week ago the police chief, Harry Dolan, publicly complained that the minority community was not responding to this crisis, asking "where's the outrage?" The African-American community, in particular, has responded by vehemently denying Dolan's charge and attacking the police department for racial profiling. Basically everybody is pointing the finger at somebody else while more young African-Americans and Latinos are getting killed all the time. I'm glad Hartwell has called this meeting, at least, but I'm not sure what good will come of it. The problem starts with the public education in this town, but that's tied to the funding that comes from property taxes of those who live in the district. Because something like 40% of the people in my neighborhood live below the poverty line, the schools will never get the funding they need. Of course, just throwing money at the problem won't make it disappear. There is the question of how to bring businesses into a neighborhood with that much poverty and an 89% African-American and 11% Latino population, the problem of institutional racism, the fact that almost nobody owns their home, and -most importantly- how can we change the culture of the neighborhood so that young people believe things can change? How do we fight the hopelessness and defeatism? I don't know, but we have to start by building relationships one person at a time.

shylock

Here's something that's been bouncing around my head today: why do I keep turning God into Shylock? For those of you who may not be familiar with "The Merchant of Venice," the protagonist Antonio (oddly enough, a Venetian merchant) is short of cash and needs a loan. He turns to his enemy- a Jew named Shylock (always seemed like a bit of an odd choice to me). Shylock agrees to the loan, but makes Antonio agree to offer a pound of flesh as collateral should something go wrong. And, because Shakespeare was his day's answer to the Lifetime network, Antonio's ships are wrecked, pirated, and probably worse meaning he's lost everything. More importantly he can't pay his debt. Of course, any normal person would waive the disgusting fee, but then no no normal person would have made that a condition in the first place. Without too much detail about why Shylock wants to make Antonio pay, it's safe to say Shylock wants it simply because it's his. The pound of flesh won't benefit him, it won't make him money (at least directly), or any friends in Venice where Antonio is well-liked. He wants it because he deserves it, by law.

I often see God this way. We've sinned, and we deserve to be punished for it. God deserves far more, even, than a simple pound of flesh. It's easy to question God's judgment and wonder why he doesn't just forgive the sin without a thought. I even find myself getting mad at God for getting mad at us - you know, big bad God who sits in judgment over all of us who deserve to die. This is wrong. God does not delight in punishing us. He doesn't want to punish sinners simply because he has a right to. But God is just, and simply forgiving the debt would undermine that. God, who is himself the definition of justice, must be satisfied. I guess theologians call it the satisfaction theory of atonement. It's what allows us to live free of guilt (our debt has not been just forgiven, but paid by another) and shows us how mercy can be just.

And, for the record, don't bash Shylock too much. When played well he is one of the most heart-wrenchingly conflicted characters that ol' Billy the Bard created (played poorly he's comic relief). After all, who else gets to say, "I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?" (III, i) Shakespeare rarely wrote better stuff than that.

home alone

It's Saturday night and all six of my housemates are gone so I'm stuck in a big old house whose radiator is currently making some very strange noises. Of course I can barely hear that over the rumbling snow plows and the soothing Cole Porter. This rare combination of nobody around and not much to do (nothing that can't be put off, I guess) has made for a relaxing evening. In fact, it's been a really mellow day in general. I slept late (9:30!) and then bought $100 worth of groceries. I'm always amazed how much food our house can eat, and we're not even all living here at the moment. I spent some time on the latest job application, trying to find the perfect balance of pride and humility, so they know I have some skills but don't think I'm a narcissist. Something I should maybe think about more when I blog...

The highlight of my day was going to the Calvin vs. Albion men's college basketball game. Who couldn't like two tiny Division III schools battling it out as if a trip to the Final Four was on the line. Calvin had a three point shot at the buzzer that would have sent the game to overtime, but it rimmed out. I'm a little hoarse now. While I was waiting for the game to start I got the chance to start a new book, "Home is Always the Place You Just Left" by Betty Smartt Carter. It's too early to tell for sure, but so far I like it. Here's an excerpt:

"Actually, "Why?" may be the most devout question any human being can ask, because of what it implies about God. If I ask, "How did the universe get here?" I'm showing curiosity. If I ask, "Who made all this?" I'm only admitting that some powerful being may be necessary to explain so much matter and energy swirling around in nothingness, like dirty footprints on a kitchen floor. But if I ask, "Why is the universe here?" or even "Why do I get canker sores after eating strawberries?" I show hope for order in this mess. I want to know whether God tramps through nothingness for a reason, and whether all this junk , this frenzied mud I wade through from one second to the next, is maybe a trail that leads somewhere. To ask why shows that I have expectations, and expectations are the beginning of faith - however small, however many times crushed and reborn."

a new year

I'm back from my extended holiday break, and I'm actually quite glad. Don't get me wrong - the two weeks off were the refreshing break I needed. But as I unpacked the other night I caught myself saying, "it's good to be home - to feel like I'm in my own comfortable space again." That's scary, though, because Grand Rapids is not home. It can't be home! I need to get out of here fast so my nomadic tendencies don't disappear. I still try to limit all my worldly goods and possessions to what I can fit in a car so I can make a fast get-away (it helps to have a car for that, of course), so I guess my itchy feet haven't quite settled down yet.

I've long wondered about this tendency in me ( "Searching For Home" by M. Craig Barnes discusses it in great detail) and I've concluded it's half defense mechanism and half laziness. I don't want to stay in one place too long because that would mean I might have to actually develop intimacy with people. And worse, if I stay I have to actually face some deeper issues that only come up when you've been in a community for a long time. I'm working on this, but we'll see if it actually sinks in. It didn't for my Dad, and his Dad before him, so I'm not holding my breath.

Anyway, back to my lovely vacation. The week in Seattle made me wonder why I ever left that side of the country, especially the bright sunny days with views of the mountains (in Seattle n January - crazy!). I was spiritually encouraged and refreshed by my time with the Sanctuary crew. My sister and brother-in-law have been involved with this church plant from the beginning and now I understand why they like it so much. My buddy Kent said it better than I can. It's a pleasure to have such smart friends.

I was challenged by a few books I read over the break. The combination of "The Blood of the Lamb" by Peter DeVries and "Under the Banner of Heaven" by John Krackauer was particularly interesting. DeVries writes one of the darkest novels I've ever read, but it's terribly funny (and thus, a terrific read). And Krackauer brings into question the very concept of religious belief, as in why do we believe illogical things? He does this by analyzing Mormon fundamentalists, but the scary thing is they sound a lot like your everyday garden-variety Christian - I mean besides the polygamy thing. Anyway, I've had to remind myself, once again, why exactly I believe this crazy stuff I do. It's a good process to go through on a regular basis.

(P.S. I'm listening to the latest from Caedmon's Call - Share The Well - I think I like it, but I'm not sure yet. I like what they're trying to do, at least.)

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learning things that matter

Don't you hate when your education gets in the way of your education? At approximately 1:45 last night, I realized the take-home final I was writing had far less educational value than the latest crazy project of Nathan's. At about 11:00 he decided that multinational media conglomerates are evil and wanted to find out just how powerful they are (basically about 7 corporations control all media worldwide - I would say pretty powerful). He started with Universal Vivendi, and found that almost every music group he has ever listened to is signed by a label they own. At some point during his rant I pointed him in the direction of PBS's fantastic special on marketing to teenagers, The Merchants of Cool. After watching the hour long program, he felt like his blinders had been taken off. I don't think I've seen him that excited since he discovered the joys of online poker. And there I was, sitting at my computer trying to explain why Rev. Hooper is a prideful jerk, not a penitent sinner. Now how is that can help save the world?

(real) memory

[now playing: Diana Krall's The Girl in the Other Room (check it out)]

I had a bit too much caffeine this morning because I was out a bit too late last night, and now I've hit the wave of afternoon sleepiness. I used to just give in and nap for 20 minutes. Not so these days - now I either have more caffeine (usually a bad option) or try to get up, walk around, and get the blood pumping a bit (a good option). When I was growing up I took naps every day, at least in the summer. It might be those great memories of falling asleep in the backyard hammock with a book on my chest and the sun on my face, but this sleepy feeling always makes me a bit nostalgic. Our house didn't have a great backyard, but the hammock made up for it.

Or did it? I have memories of an idyllic childhood full of playing baseball in the empty lot on our street, catching frogs in the creek, riding bikes to the park so we could play "tennis" (our version consisted of trying to hit each other as hard as we could with tennis balls using my Dad's heavy old wooden rackets), and lots of fun "kid" stuff. But I don't remember being particularly happy as a child. If I was having as much fun as I remember, why wasn't I generally happier? I guess my point is that memory isn't always reliable. Who knows what sort of Freudian repression is going on in my head? But the granola bar I ate is kicking in - I feel awake and should get back to work.

Madness

Allow me to vent a bit. One of my neighbors is an 8th grader named Mahi. He knows that the seven of us in my house are happy to hang out with the kids from the neighborhood (as all the kids know), so he comes over and we play ping-pong or monopoly from time to time. Yesterday, as I was leaving around 8 AM, I saw him walking down the street. I thought he was supposed to be at school by 7:30 but wasn't sure, so I just waved and left because I was running late.

When I got home for lunch at about 12:30, Mahi was sitting in our living room watching a movie with my housemate Laura. It turns out he got into a fight on Friday and is suspended from school all week. His aunt, who he lives with, was so mad she locked him out of the house when she went to work. Basically, if he he didn't come to our place Mahi would be wandering the streets all week. Does this seem like an intelligent move by his school administrators?

To be fair, I should mention Mahi has a history of bad behavior. Most recently (last year) he got sent to an alternative school for troubled kids. I don't get it, though, because he is the most polite and respectful kid in the neighborhood, easily. When I talked to him about it, he said kids were picking on him, and he "just doesn't like to be touched." So, it's a classic case of a kid with a reputation and a short fuse getting targeted by instigators in his classes. They mess with him because they know they'll get a reaction, and more often than not Mahi will take the blame for it.

Don't get me wrong - I'm not letting Mahi off the hook. He deserves to be punished, but this punishment is idiocy! Let's take him out of school for a week, so he gets further behind in his classes, gets more frustrated at school, and expresses that frustration by acting up more. Great plan! Laura made him do his homework, but when he finished in an hour (he's bright too), she had nothing else to do. They ended up watching a movie because the he was bored out of his mind. He actually wanted to go back to school! I'm not a parent or a teacher, but this doesn't seem like the way our school system should handle discipline.