Marie Colvin, biology, and the dour optimist. [Hooray!]

Marie Colvin

Marie Colvin (1956-2012) with John Le Carré at the presentation of the Martha Gellhorn Prize, May 2010. (Image from the Martha Gellhorn Prize site)

I'm not sure why I regularly worry about issues far beyond my regional geography and connection, but knowing that some people die because they have a burning desire to tell the truth about other peoples' suffering is thoroughly sobering.

To my knowledge, I've not examined any of Marie Colvin's work, but Colvin was awarded the Martha Gellhorn prize for journalism. The Gellhorn prize "challenges secrecy and mendacity [lies] in public affairs" and "raises 'forgotten' issues of public importance, without fear or favour." (Aside: Gellhorn had a really interesting life too, I live similarly to how she did)

I noticed Colven on the Gellhorn website Saturday (when I started writing this post), and that she had an eyepatch--the result of a rocket propelled grenade intentionally fired at her in Sri Lanka--and that she was killed in Syria this March according to the Guardian UK.

There's a conflicting account about how she died on wikipedia, but in the spirit of her interests, that shouldn't matter--Marie's a strong woman worth knowing about in any case and a killing of this kind is still an injustice.  What strikes me about her is that she's way under the radar, but I think her efforts are as heroic as many noted civil rights activists like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

On Biology and Compassion

I suppose my ears are particularly keen to Syria and Colvin because I had a professor, Dr. Abu-Issa, who is of Syrian descent (possibly of Syrian nationality too). He taught a 5 credit hour comparative vertebrate anatomy class at UM-Dearborn (note that most 4 credit hour lab courses are considered marathon-like endeavors). In lab, we dissected various animals, examined the embryos of chickens, and sketched everything we saw.

His interest in embryology's parallels with evolutionary development ignited my appreciation for evolutionary biology, and in a few ways life in general too.  Strange as it may sound, the class gave me a sense of place and solidarity among other animals.  I think of birds as relatively young (in an evolutionary sense of time and age), likely direct descendants of some dinosaurs--they look more advanced or modern now that I've taken the class.  I proudly shout "I am an endothermic mammal!" whenever water from the shower is colder than anticipated and carry on with confidence.  Why?  Because I know I'll probably maintain my core body temperature and subsequently function with sustained vigor in the great tradition of fellow mammals.

Beyond that, it casts an existential light on our presence as students in higher education and as a species (but I won't go into detail about this here)--I think of how strange it is that we get to learn about things that have died as individuals, yet continue to thrive as a species around us today?  

The phrase "ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny" brings this phenomenon home.  You can see what we share in common with other orders of animals--in our earliest stages, humans too have gills, and eventually develop internal lungs.  Learn enough about embryology and evolution and a sense of humanity that transcends species starts to emerge.  There is no word for this condition in the English dictionary that celebrates the fundamental state of being in ways bigger than the status of a human being or our humanity.  What word could describe the sense of solidarity we may have when identifying with fellow living organisms?  Ask this to anyone who really loved--not necessarily in a romantic sense--and understood their dog, cat, a horse, whale, bird, or maybe even a reptile, fish, or insect, etc. as a companion.  I think they'd understand what you're getting at.

Back to the professor:  I was going through a really rough time, and he called my home number to check up on how I was doing after noticing something awry when I was at his office.  Even though it was halfway through my undergraduate college career, I never knew anyone (my mother aside), not to mention a professor, who would actually follow up just to see if I was doing okay.Perhaps I pay attention to severe injustices because I value compassion. Compassion is a necessity for living and to an extent, eventually dying well.

Gloomy stuff, but I'd rather not be ignorant and I'm resolved to believe that one should communicate heavy issues.  Thus, I see the following choices: Cheerful pessimism or dour optimism?

Choose the former, there's a likelihood that you'll at least enjoy it, and perhaps it will rub off on others.

But cheerful pessimism may well be a form of self-assured, or worse yet smug, cynicism. That seems like a vile choice to me.  I suppose it's possible to have fun and keep hope within a narrow margin, but one is then beholden to statistics and the confines of reason. I like to think the human spirit and imagination are stronger than that though.

If you seek the latter choice, that of a dour optimist, maybe no one will have fun but at least there's hope.

The Scout Law

I'm conflicted by this:  Eagle scouts are bound to a code of honor, we swear to obey the scout law and help other people at all times.  Among the twelve points, I recall placing highest value in cheerfulness throughout my time in the program.  Yet concern and cheer do not peaceably coexist in my mind.  This conflicts with a value for authenticity in personal character and the first point of the scout law, which mandates trustworthiness.  It's beyond my imagination at this time to authentically express one's concerns or anguish while cheerful.  To do so betrays one's trustworthiness.  While I respect and appreciate the intentions behind the principles of the scout law, I refuse to submit to an attitude that is imposed upon the autonomy of my identity.  I'll certainly embrace the challenge to uphold a cheerful disposition and optimistic perspective, but the truth of reality seems to require that other facets of our humanity are necessary.  We may have all realized (or perhaps should realize) firsthand through cautious encounters with friends or genuinely compassionate people that people relate better when they recognize and are allowed to work with your foremost concerns.

This brings me to consider another tangent:  Scouts are assumed as well-prepared citizens who can work remarkably well with people, solve problems, camp in the gruff, etc. they are trained to survive in society, sometimes even in the wilderness, and help society help itself.  Yet I've known of esteemed people in the scouting community who carried out their suicides.  I only know two cases, one of them was an Eagle and hailed for his vigilant service in the Order of the Arrow (an honor society of cheerful service for scouts), but knowledge of either case is more than enough for concern.  I wonder if this conflict of virtues played into their pains too?  Scouts are frequently expected to be very competent at navigating the travails of life.  One might not be inclined to talk about their own social problems given that they're doing relatively well in all other areas of life.  Among comerades who uphold a similar ethos of cheer, this can be a very alienating experience.

I started writing this post on Saturday the 21st of April and nipped at bits of it throughout finals week.  However, it's a puzzle that's been with me for years.  Sometimes I'll play [beautifully] glum music on the streets if things are going far beneath swell.  In part, it's because I can't really play where I live.  Furthermore, if people don't like what they hear, they can walk away.  I'm at least doing something creative with disappointment, and it probably makes little difference for them.  In colder weather however, there aren't many public places to go with a violin--then what?

The question burned brightly in my mind since the end of December when I was at a friend's apartment.  At the time, she was in a bright mood and shared several comedy clips with me.  I listened and did my best to enjoy, but I was ready to crawl into a hole with concerns or suffer in anonymity.  I opted to plunk out some notes on the instrument with me, and she asked me to play some of my favorite pieces.  I like music depending on the context, and in that context, my favorite pieces would be more somber than a shadow is dark.  In accordance with cheerfulness though, I wound up playing stuff I really didn't feel like doing and it disappointed me that I essentially lied about what I actually held dearest at the time.  Had I known her better at the time, this probably wouldn't be an issue, but I obliged and started playing.

I'll have to bring this up to other eyes to see where interpretation of the current scouting philosophy lands.  I think it merits some caveat over how we consider the scout law.  If anything, its open interpretation and bearing on identity make it a wicked problem--it's the part of life that's open ended, circumstantial, and continues to change as we work with it.

I also now wonder how many scouters vigorously engage its principles in academia as focused ethicists...

It's a puzzle worthy of lament on one hand, but I think it's nonetheless piecing together for the better.