Control
I'm having one of those moments when several seemingly unrelated areas of my life all seem to be talking about the same topic. Which might mean that God is trying to teach me something.
So, time to start writing my thoughts and seeing what comes of it ...
So, this all starts at church.
My pastor just started a sermon series based on Skye Jethani's book "With: Reimagining the Way You Relate To God". We're only three chapters into the book so far, so I can't tell you how it ends yet. But in the first three chapters, Jethani sets up the idea that many of the ways that we relate to God are based on control, and then reveals some ways that manifests:
- Legalism says: if you just follow all the rules, you can force God to bless you.
- Deism says: if you learn the principles God used to create the world, you can succeed in the world all by yourself, without needing a personal God in your life to intervene.
Both heresies are about control; allowing me to control God to get what I want, or control the world to get what I want without God. Either way, it's about me controlling things.
(We're only through chapter three; it'll be interesting to see where this goes.)
And then ... I started thinking about the pandemic.
Some of you know that I was tasked with deciding on a masking policy for my own classes that I'm teaching. I wrote a horribly long essay about my analysis, which I won't repeat here (much to everyone's relief).
But as I've been discussing this issue with fellow faculty, and with students, I've been struck that much of the argument centers on the idea of control.
- Pro-maskers are trying to do everything they can to avoid getting and giving COVID, and are frustrated because they can't convince others to comply. They're trying to control getting COVID, with only limited (and invisible) effectiveness.
- Anti-maskers are trying to do everything they can to exert their own bodily autonomy, and are frustrated because others keep wanting to interfere. They're trying to control their own freedom of action, with only limited effectiveness.
In some ways, the debate isn't about epidemiology anymore; it's about control. (Maybe it was always about control.) And the frustrating thing, for everyone involved, is that there is very little about the pandemic that can be controlled.
And then ... I started thinking about another book I'm reading.
Since this summer, I've been reading Heather Thompson Day's book "It's Not Your Turn: What to Do While You're Waiting for Your Breakthrough".
(Okay, when I say I've been "reading" the book, I mean I've been carrying it around in my laptop case, because reading the first two chapters just wrecked me. Sorry, Heather. I really am trying to work up the courage to open it up again.)
In the opening chapters, Day explores the frustration that we all seem to feel when others are experiencing the success that we crave. Day's premise is that God has something to teach us through those moments of waiting, and explores them. (At least, I'm pretty sure that's what she does in the rest of the book ...)
Why do I resent it when other people are successful and I'm not? Even though I'm doing all the "right" things? Because my success, and the success of other people, isn't within my control. I'm jealous, but mostly I'm frustrated, because there's nothing I can do about it.
Control. Control. Control.
I can remember the very first time I served as a teaching assistant in a college CS course. I was assigned to lead a discussion section for a CS1 course. I walked into that classroom for the first time with a great deal of fear --- mostly because I'd been given exactly zero training in how to be a TA. (This was 35 years ago. I think we're doing a better job of training TAs now.) I tried to remember what I'd seen other TAs do, made some guesses as to what I should do for the class, and stepped up front.
I started talking, and got a bunch of blank stares back. I tried asking a question, and got silence. So I decided to give a mini-lecture. I turned to the chalkboard to write something down about what I was saying, and I looked back at the class ... and every single head was looking down at their notebooks, where they were writing down everything I'd just written on the chalkboard.
And I felt a surge of excitement.
I made them write something down. I made them do that.
Wow, what a rush.
I'm in control here.
Control still plays a big part in college pedagogy. I'm at my most uncomfortable in a classroom when I give up control of the agenda to my students. I'm at my most comfortable when I'm so familiar with my plan for the day's activities that I know I can control anything that might happen. And probably most of the debates about higher education pedagogy these days are, at some level, about control or the lack of control.
So, what conclusion do I draw out of all this?
I honestly don't know.
But I can at least see the pattern. Now, I need to sit with this pattern for a bit and see what there is for me to learn.
Which is a little frustrating, not knowing the conclusion.
Because, you know, it's out of my ...