Smrt Lernins

Why is the world filled with things that suck?

I give you, for example, some things that suck [with some non-sucking things to cancel out a little of the badness]:

• The Tennessee Senate: Sucks. [This church in Kentucky does not suck]

[Note: Delaware also does not suck]

• Texas and Oklahoma: Both Suck. [Planned Parenthood does not suck, however, so consider donating to them or to your local non-CPC women's clinic -- I'm a big fan of the Feminist Women's Health Center, so you oughta donate to them, too]
• Crazy wives/mothers of cop-killing “sovereign citizens”: Suck. [No, there's nothing to cancel out this amount of suck.]
• The “Ladies Against Feminism”: Suck. [However, No Longer Quivering doesn't suck.]
• LZ Granderson: Sucks. [And if you need to know why, read this and this -- Shakespeare's Sister and Pigtail Pals don't suck.]

I’ll now go back to my regularly scheduled reading of BBC articles about the Assize of Nuisance and conditions of privies in medieval London, ’cause that shit stinks a little less than a lot of the above.

For those invested in gender [stereo]typing, it is very important that you do not allow your son to do this (if you can’t find it, upper right hand picture — PINK TOENAILS? On a BOY? WORLD IS ENDING!). People might say ridiculous things like this. They’re afraid you might turn him into this [which, to the gender-typing, is a BAD THING(tm)].

On the other hand, the gender [stereo]typing set strongly encourages you to buy these and these, because it would be awful if your baby girls were mistaken as boys.

So, to summarize:

Playful bonding time with mom and son: BAD!

Dressing your infant daughter like a can-can dancer: GOOD!

UPDATE: Reader Sandhya would like to share this link so we can all learn how long-standing is the history of boys wearing blue and girls wearing pink (hint: it’s not really all that long-standing).

For starters, Happy (almost) International Darwin Day and Happy Evolution Weekend!

If you’ve read my blog for any length of time, you know I’ve had my share to say about Conservative Christianity and its view of evolution as being mutually exclusive with faith. I’ve talked about how appalling it is for parents to teach their children as fact something that is not only NOT evidence-based, but which flies in the face of all sound science. I’ve discussed my concerns about a creationist mentality encroaching into our laws and our schools. I’m concerned about the general dumbing-down of American in the name of God.

Luckily, it turns out that I’m not the only one with those concerns! Even more luckily, Christians themselves are raising their voices in support of evolution science. In 2006, a large group of clergy (467 in total) came together to sign a letter decrying the false dichotomy of religion vs science. Rather than force people to choose between their religion/denomination’s beliefs and strong scientific evidence, they instead started looking for ways to show that scientific theory and spirituality aren’t in opposition to each other. This year, 642 congregations, which include groups from every state and 13 countries, to demonstrate that:

Religious people from many diverse faith traditions and locations around the world understand that evolution is quite simply sound science; and for them, it does not in any way threaten, demean, or diminish their faith in God. In fact, for many, the wonders of science often enhance and deepen their awe and gratitude towards God.

Or, as pastor Carl Gregg so eloquently states it, “As people of faith in the 21st century, we can do better, and Evolution Sunday is an explicit invitation to remind both ourselves and our congregations that we shouldn’t have to check our brain at the door of the church.”

Or, as my former biology teacher, Dr. Wes McCoy, put it, “Understanding how humans are intimately connected through genetics to all other living species fills my soul with wonder. My understanding of evolution does nothing to diminish my faith in God. In fact, my connection to God is deepened when I contemplate the intricate beauty of evolution.”

Secular science and religious belief don’t have to negate each other. Nearly 650 congregations have come together to declare this. That’s nearly 650 congregations full of people who don’t think the Bible has to be believed at the expense of research or our own exploration of the world. That so many people can embrace the compatibility of both spirituality and science shines a rather pointed light on those who say the two must be in opposition. Evolutionary Christians are out there, exploring how science and faith can relate, be reconciled. Every single one of them makes the science-deniers look all the more foolish.

Why would the God you believe in give you an incisive brain if he didn’t want you to put it to good use? I’m legitimately sorry for those who believe in a God who gave them a brain and keen senses in order to trick or tempt or fool them. What a sad state you must exist in, trying to figure out if every bit of evidence is another attempt to lead you astray and then punish you for it. You decry all the evidence as being chicanery on the part of scientists, some kind of devil, or God, because you believe what you have been told: believing in science means you can’t believe in God. How very sad for you that your own denomination or congregation works so hard to keep you in your own private Dark Ages.

I want to see more evolutionary Christians in the world. If faith is going to continue to play such a huge part in our society — and I see no way around that — I hope for a rise in the number of congregations who don’t accept a handful of narrow interpretations of translations of widely-varying accuracy of millennia-old texts over the mountain of evidence supporting contemporary scientific theory. The secular and the spiritual can live together in harmony. There can and should be a place for both. There shouldn’t, however, be a place where “it’s true because I believe it” outweighs “it’s true because the data supports it.” Faith can make us strong or compassionate or hopeful. Blind faith just makes us dumb.

Where the wind goes whipping down the plains…full of people living w/ dinosaurs?

Oklahoma Republicans have introduced a bill that would allow for the teaching of creationist pseudoscience in public school classrooms. You can read the details of the bill here.

The bill specifically states that teachers can teach the “scientific strengths or scientific weaknesses of controversial topics in sciences and that “scientific information is not excluded from this definition solely on the basis that it coincides with the tenets of some or all religious beliefs or doctrines.” It also says that “this section only protects the teaching of scientific information and specifically does not protect the promotion of any religion, religious doctrine, or religious belief” and “this definition does exclude information based solely on religious writings, beliefs or doctrines,” so at least “the Bible says so” won’t be an acceptable reason to teach it in science class, right?

Of course, all it takes is one piece of “evidence” for “intelligent design” or one argument from one of those so-called creation scientists to justify teachers presenting faith-based fancy, which has absolutely no basis in real evidence or scientific theory, as a perfectly valid alternative to actual science. Under this law, school systems would not be allowed to prevent teachers from teaching creationism or the even more insidious “intelligent design” as scientifically on par with neo-Darwinian evolutionary theory. Teachers could not be disciplined for teaching tripe as fact, as long as they can fabricate some small claim that what they are teaching is based in any way on something that might sorta-kinda resemble a fact.

In other words, teachers in Oklahoma would be able to place their religious beliefs above doing the duties of their job, just like some pharmacists are doing. Instead of taking a job where their skewed morality is welcome (a religious school, perhaps?), they are going to spew it into public schools. Nothing like an impressionable group of young students to sew the seeds of ignorance and religious fervor.

We choose not to send our children to public school. Our family situation allows us the freedom and ability to homeschool our children. If that changed, however, and I had to send my children to public school, I should be able to do so with the expectation that they will not be taught that the world was created 6000 years ago, that people lived with dinosaurs, that God is a fact (whatever our personal spiritual beliefs), or that the Bible is true. Separation of church and state should mean your religious beliefs aren’t being impressed upon my children. It should mean that, in order to teach science in a public school, you should actually — call me crazy here — teach evidence-based science.

Incidentally, if you doubt the intent of the bill as anything other than anti-evolution, the state senator introducing it was very clear that this was his goal.

Some of you already know about Secular Thursday, the day when secular homeschoolers (whatever that means to you) can come together and talk about issues and experiences that are relevant to your lives. Over the past two years, the Secular Thursdays (#secthurs if you’re Tweeting about it) movement has grown, until we have a pretty impressive list of bloggers writing, at least occasionally, Secular Thursday thoughts to share with the blogosphere.

Secular Thursday isn’t popular with everyone. Of course, there’s the objection from the non-secular set, but even within the self-identifying secular homeschooling community, people have taken issue with the idea of Secular Thursday. I’ve received comments with a varying degree of tone (ranging from holier-than-thou to passive aggressive to downright nasty) from people who think Secular Thursday is too negative, that the goal is to offend or mock people with other views, that we’re making a mountain out of a molehill when we say it’s hard to find materials and support for a secular viewpoint in homeschooling.

You know, sometimes our posts can be negative. Many aspects of the world seem stacked against a secular education, favoring religion over scientific evidence. Sometimes, however, our posts are downright joyful. Sometimes we do have to mock or poke fun a little bit — it’s a natural response to the attitude that we, the secular/non-religious, are morally lacking or inferior, that because we don’t choose in include God in our curricula, that our children are growing up without guidance or character. It’s hard to live in a world comprised of people who think we’re going to hell; if we need to blow off a little steam, what of it? As my Momma puts it, you can get glad in the same pants you got mad in.

It hasn’t gotten any easier to not be a Christian in this country. It’s not getting any easier. Religion still has a too-strong hold on our laws. We live in a country where a pharmacist can deny a woman’s access to life-saving medication because he thinks she might have had an abortion, where gay people are denied the right to marry or adopt children because it offends someone’s narrow view of the fantasy of “traditional” marriage, where science texts are rewritten to include the decided non-scientific Creationist/Intelligent Design beliefs and history texts are rewritten to gloss over the ugly bits…well, don’t tell me that being secular in general — let alone a secular homeschooler, let along a secular homeschooler in the South — is always easy-peasy and that we’re practically dripping with support.

Secular Thursday is my way of reminding myself that I’m not alone in this. I’m not the only one who feels on the “outside,” who is frustrated by what I see on the “inside,” who would like access to a wider range of materials, who would like access to a wider range of groups and services, who sometimes feels like the world might be going to hell in a handbasket (if you happen to believe in hell, which I don’t), or who just plain wants to talk about stuff that the majority of the folks on the WTM forums don’t want to hear about and can’t behave themselves if you do talk about it. I’m not alone. All of these folks are with me:

• Smrt Mama at Smrt Lernins @smrtlernins
• Patchfire at A Little Rebellion @patchfire
• Rational Jenn @rationaljenn
• Cara at Peanuts are EVIL… @nolamom76
• Bobbi at My Little Soapbox @mylittlesoapbox
• Sarah at Raising Three Thinkers @raisingthinkers
• Lesa at Free K-12 Education @SimplisticLivin
• Renae at Home Education Family
• Luna at Spiral Goddess Home School @lunaskye
• WildIris at By The Way
• Crunchy Mama at The Diosa Dotada Endeavor
• Kim at Embracing My Chaos
• Queen Bee at Lost Persons Homeschool
• Lili at The Neustel Way
• Debbie at School Bytes
• verpaix at Le vert, couleur de la paix @vertpaix
• Meghan at Strader Spiel
• Heather at This Adventure Life
• Dysfuntional Homeschooler
• Julie at Creekside Learning
• Mummy Snow at Snowflakes in the Valley
• Samantha at The Scientific Homeschooler
• justamouse at just a mouse house
• Natalie at Homeschool for Two
• Siggi at Turkeydoodles

If you aren’t on this list and want to be, let me know. If you’ve become disenchanted with the idea of Secular Thursday and want off the list, let me know. If you want to bitch about Secular Thursday, you go right on ahead; it doesn’t hurt my feelings, but it sure doesn’t change my mind. If you aren’t sure what you think about Secular Thursdays, read about it. Read through my Secular Thursday posts, read through Patchfire’s, read through the others on the list. Our points of view are as varied as yours.

“Secular” has several meanings and not everybody groks exactly what you mean when you say you’re a secular homeschooler. The World English Dictionary lists these among the first (and more relevant) definitions of secular:

secular (ˈsɛkjʊlə) — adj
1. of or relating to worldly as opposed to sacred things; temporal
2. not concerned with or related to religion
3. not within the control of the Church
4. of an education, etc
a. having no particular religious affinities
b. not including compulsory religious studies or services

To many homeschoolers, “secular” simply means “not using religious materials/curricula,” or sometimes more broadly as “not using Christian materials/curricula.”

When I say I’m a secular homeschool, that’s what I’m talking about. I’ve largely embraced the popular definition of “secular” as used by the larger homeschooling population. By calling myself a secular homeschooler, I am saying that our academic/educational materials/curricula have no particular religious affinities and is related to “wordly” subject matters, not religious. That’s really all I mean. I’m not hiding some additional meaning. I’m not making a statement about my personal beliefs. I’m not making a statement about my thoughts on your personal beliefs. I’m not making a declaration of our educational style or methodology. All I’m saying is that we do not include religious materials in our studies, that we use evidence-based (not faith-based) materials, and that we do not involve religion in the presentation of subject matter.

Not everybody interprets the term “secular” in the same way. Secular homeschoolers themselves often seem to make a leap to a much narrower definition of secularity. I’ve noticed two fairly common assumptions about what I mean by secular homeschooler: that I am an unschooler or that I am an atheist. I have no animosity towards my fellow secular homeschoolers for making these assumptions; I just find it somewhat strange.

Now, if you’ve read my blog at all, you know I’m not an unschooler. When I meet other secular homeschoolers in person, however, they often make the assumption that I must be. Maybe their thinking is they are secular homeschoolers and they are unschoolers, so all secular homeschoolers must be unschoolers. I suppose it’s normal to assume that someone who self-identifies with language you also use for yourself would be like you in other ways. Still, I am unclear as to why “secular” seems to imply “without curricula” or “informal.” I attended some park days with a local secular homeschooling meetup group, and they would initiate conversations with the assumption that I was an unschooler or at least a non-curricula-using homeschooler.

If you’ve read back through my Secular Thursday posts, I think I’ve also made it pretty clear to my regular readers that I’m not an atheist. I usually refer to myself as an nonspecific areligious believer, the dreaded “spiritual but not religious,” or some derivation thereof. I have beliefs that are vaguely deist in flavor, others that are somewhat humanist, and some that are downright New Agey. None of them fit me neatly into any specific religion or philosophy. I believe in something, however. I’m not an atheist. I’m not even an agnostic. I’m just not at all religious, which is what I’d always believed “secular” meant.

I’m not surprised to discover that many secular homeschoolers are atheists. I have no problem with that. I am surprised that there’s an assumption from my fellow secular homeschoolers that I am an atheist. When the majority of the homeschooling world assumes “secular” means “absence of Christian and/or religious curricula,” it’s odd that the secular homeschooling world makes the additional assumption of a complete absence of spiritual belief. Why? Why do so many secular homeschoolers go that extra length in their mental definition of secularity?

I’m not expecting any answers, though if you are a self-identifying secular homeschooler, I’m interested in knowing if you assume either unschooling or atheism when you hear someone else identify as a secular homeschooler. Heck, if you aren’t a secular homeschooler, I’d be interested in knowing what, if anything, you assume.

Well, if you assume I’m going to hell, I’m not interested in know that, because it will hurt my feelings. I might cry. I might take pictures of myself crying and then blog them. That’s just how I roll.

This is a sort of meandering and uninsightful (or un-inciteful) post, but that whole Waldorf thing wore me out and this is the best I can come up with.

Because sometimes the best way to tell a story is through humorous bastardization of the Bayeux Tapestry*.

*And here’s your history geek moment of the day: The Bayeux tapestry is not actually a tapestry (which is woven), but an embroidery on cloth.
**I think this still counts for my NaBloPoMo, because I had to do a lot of screen printing and photoshopping, as the image gallery seems to no longer be supported.

Last weekend, my parents attended the Rally to Restore Sanity. Because they’re super awesome, they flew up in the morning, rallied, and flew home in the evening. On one of the flights, my mother found this tucked into the Sky Mall magazine:

She almost stuck it back in the magazine, but then decided she needed to bring it home to show it to me.

The site advertised on this card is…well, it’s sort of everything that freaks me out about Christianity (and I honestly have no idea what flavor of Christianity this site is promoting, just that’s it’s tongue-speaking, “Whore”-fixated whackadoodle). Of course, I wouldn’t be able to look up the website while on the airplane, because come on. Have you seen how much the airlines cost to use their special Internet connection? *pshaw* So you can feel free to visit the site and marvel and/or gawk, but we’re going to focus solely on this card, since we’re on a hypothetical airplane right now.

So. Yeah. This card.

Now, I appreciate the need some folks have to spread God’s love and advertise for Jesus and all that, but I’m questioning:

A) The effectiveness of Sky Mall magazine proselytizing.
B) Whether a quote about God (who, presumably, is in Heaven, right?) calling us to Himself is the right choice for an airplane, considering how many people have a fear of flying and/or crashing. I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking, “God is great, but I don’t want be “going to Jesus” (dot com or otherwise) right at this very moment. I’d really prefer to land at my immediate destination.”

I have some alternate suggestions for the GoingtoJesus.com people that they might consider putting on their cards instead:

“God’s love helps you fly the friendly skies without turbulence.”
“God is calling you to Himself…eventually. For now, have a nice, safe flight!”
“Going to Jesus, but changing planes in Chicago en route.”
“God always fits in the overhead compartment.”
“God accepts your extra baggage — no charge.”
“No snakes on this plane. Just Jesus.”

Oh, business card proselytes! A little word of advice from a secular homeschooler: I appreciate the sentiment of wanting people to feel close to Jesus, but try not to freak people out on airplanes, ok?

I obviously have my beef with religion. My experiences with organized religions haven’t been positive. I’m not talking about my experience with faith or belief, but with the structures that surround them, the hard and fast rules these structures try to impose upon that belief and upon people…not just the people who wish to belong to those structured religions, but to all people. I resent having someone else’s interpretation of faith pressed upon me and my children.

That’s awfully common in homeschooling circles. I know you know it. Statements of faith for co-ops. Unreasonable expectations of behavior at activities. Scathing looks when you drive up in you minivan covered in liberal bumper stickers. You know, hypothetically speaking. It’s hard, as a secular homeschooler and a non-religious, particularly non-Christian, person, to not develop an overwhelmingly negative view of Christianity, Christians, and religion in general.

Sometimes, though, they get it right. Lately, I’ve been seeing many examples of that. When we went to Pride, I saw easily a dozen congregations marching in the parade, but only one small group protesting. The other day, someone linked me to a beautiful article in Esquire, written last year by Christian minister Shane Clairborne. Though this article was addressed to non-believers, but his letter was as much to Christians who think they are better than those non-believers. I was moved — this, this surely must be what draws people to Christianity. The God I believe in is love. Not a God who expressed love selectively. Not a God who can love. But capital-L LOVE itself. I couldn’t believe in any other sort of God– not a vindictive God, or a God who makes mistakes and punishes you for them, not a God who wants certain people elevated above others, not a meddling God playing with us like chess players– but one that is, purely, Love. Minister Clairborne seems to get that.

And then I saw this: Pastor Jim Swilley talking openly to his congregation about being gay, honestly addressing concerns, and dispelling myths. He doesn’t have to break from his faith to do it. He doesn’t have to turn his back on a Christian interpretation of God. That gives me a lot of hope for Christianity. Yes, on the fringes, people are moving more and more to the extreme, but I think a compassionate, intelligent middle must be growing. I have to hope so.

On this Secular Thursday, I’m sending out my thanks and my potential-heathen-but-hey-deal-with-it blessings to Pastor Swilley, Minister Clairborne, and all the congregations I saw in the Atlanta Pride parade. You make the world a lot easier for the rest of us to live in.

When Captain Science was little, maybe around four, he once declared, “I have a robot body and a Triforce soul.”

Science, it seems, is on the way to making that a possibility.

Because I am what I am, which is to say, I’m not the most normal rutabaga in the carrot patch, I have not been able to stop obsessing over this video, with its tiny rat cyborg, which still believes it’s a real real rat, even though it’s just a jarred rat brain in a little rat robot. It creeps me out. It beyond creeps me out; it terrifies me!

Officer Daddyman, also being what he is, which is to say, he likes to say weird things to creep me out, has been on a little kick lately of saying that by the time we’re old, they’ll be able to transplant our brains into new bodies (robot or flesh copies) and so I should anticipate both of us living a very long time. He says that the video above proves him right, and that he can have a nice new cyborg body before he dies of old age. I told him I only agree to “’til death do us part,” and that I’m not contractually obligated to remain in a marriage to a cyborg once Officer Daddyman’s actual body has died.

This raised some Very Important Theological Questions, of course, such as:

How will the various church(es)/religious organizations weigh in on the cyborg issue as a whole?

Does the soul transfer along with the brain, does it go Onward when the body dies, and where does either option leave the cyborg in the eyes of the church(es)?

If the particular organization doesn’t allow divorce, will they require adherents to their religion remain married to their cyborg partners? Would they grant a divorce on the grounds of en-cyborgation, would it be an annulment, or would the non-cyborg living spouse of the newly en-cyborged be considered a widow(er) in the eyes of the church(es)?

If the legal status of cyborgs remained consistent with that of regular living human being of the non-cyborg persuasion (thus meaning the living non-cyborg spouse was NOT a widow[er]), would the church(es) grant divorces/annulments under those circumstances, or would the widow(er) still be a widow(er) in the eyes of the church(es), but forced to remain legally entangled w/ their cyborg spouse?

If the legal status of cyborgs is different from that of the living human, in that the living human is first declared dead before their brain is put into the cyborg, who then gains its own “life” and own legal status, how would that affect divorce/annulment/widow(er)hood? Would the living spouse be widow(er)ed from the physically deceased when his/her body died and would have to remarry the cyborg if s/he wished to continue the marriage?

I’ve already made it clear to Officer Daddyman that I’m not staying married to him if he’s a cyborg, because it’s just too creepy, but I do wonder at the wider-reaching legal and theological (not to mention moral/ethical) issues of a human cyborg. The mind reels, I tell you.