Philosophy of Childhood

Eventually, I wrote Philosophy and the Young Child (Harvard, 1980), whic has as its main thesis that some children naturally raise questions, make omments, and even engage in reasoning that professional philosophers can recognise as philosophical. When at the very beginning of that book, Tim, age six, asks, "Papa, how can we be sure that everything is not a dream?" he raises one of the oldest and most persistently baffling questions in philosophy. And when Tim later seeks to reassure his father with the reasoning, "If it was a dream, we wouldn't go around asking if it was a dream," he offers a solution to this problem that can be usefully compared with the responses of Plato and Descartes.

My informal research suggests that such spontaneous excursions into philosophy are not at all unusual for children between the ages of three and seven; in somewhat older children, though even eight and nine-year-olds, they become rare, or at least rarely reported. My hypothesis is that, once children become well-settled into school, they learn that only 'useful' questioning is expected of them. Philosophy then either goes underground, to be pursued privately, perhaps, and not shared with others, or else becomes totally dormant.

What is it to be a child?
How do children's ways of thinking differ from "ours"?
Do young children have the capacity to be really altruistic?
might it be that children have the right to "divorce" from their parents?
Might some works of child art be artistically or aesthetically as good as "stick figures" or blotches of paint by some famous modern artist?
Does literature that is written by adults for children have to be, for that very reason, inauthentic?

- Gareth B. Matthews (1994)

Blue Lenses over Yellow Landscapes

Yesterday's drinking party, we had a "what was your biggest regret" moment going around and this morning, I was asking myself the same question. I figured this wasn't my regret per se, but something of a missed opportunity.

As much as I am critical of the scholarship schemes in Singapore, I do not deny the fact that it has provided opportunities to people who might not have them, to study overseas in subjects that are unavailable in Singapore. I suppose I wasn't one of the "chosen" ones, nor do I come from a rich family who could finance my studies in Geology at Imperial College London. I have moved on and this sparked a thought within something I struggle all my life.

I suck at math, but do very well in sciences.

What? How can you be good in science but not in math? Well, apparently it is possible to appreciate the theories and have the vision to imagine things that one can't see (I'm referring to Chemistry here), but not be able to do the complex calculations that accompany it. It's not that I can't do math, I just don't do it the way it is expected of me. What do I mean?

I approach math like I approach language, and vice versa. So I draw inferences and imagery from equations, as how I find rhythm and system in the use of languages. What I am always upset about, is that I have been graded as a failure for it. It is a struggle to always having to apologise to people and standards as to why you can't do something the way they want you to. Maybe their ruler is crooked instead of my brain.

All my academic life, I have been something of a (closet) hybrid. Granted that I am more well-versed in one area of study more than the other, however I do not find them mutually exclusive. I was just branded as one or another. I have equal passion for geology as I have for Foucault, and I do enjoy the complex systems of acid-base reactions as I do for creative research methods. Some might label people such as myself as "unfocused". They are probably right. Yet, I cannot help but feel that my interdisciplinary journey has helped me more than it hindered.My friend and I were discussing how it is still important to retain disciplinary boundaries because of the ways in which we are "trained" to see the world represents a unique perspective. By blurring boundaries, we belong to nowhere and everywhere, and as such lose our unique lenses of viewing the world. I agree with her, and I even go further and say that being in two worlds is impossible unless one makes a large personal sacrifice or risk being questioned for everything you do on both sides. However, there is something to be gained by putting blue lenses over yellow landscapes. The view might be greener after we combine our lenses.

I am currently at the crossroads of interdisciplinary work and I find myself being questioned - yet again - by both sides of the fence. I think I have tried my best to field off questions and convince them how and why what I am doing is important. However, there is something to be said about being able to do interdisciplinary work. It's a sexy idea, and like sex, it's overrated unless the two of you love each other very much. Many academics field the idea of interdisciplinary work and many geographers cite positive experiences. However I want to argue that being entrenched in both areas exposes an interesting sort of politics that have gone unmentioned - and it is important to acknowledge these set of politics or else it misleads the researcher into thinking that it is all a field of roses.

It's exhausting to have to be caught in the middle and given any alternative, I'm sure it would be more comfortable to do one thing and do it well - to specialise if you will. However, specialisation takes on many forms - one can also specialise at finding connections between topics, or specialise within the liminal spaces of two fields of study. It is possible to find synergy, where the combination of factors is larger than the sum of its parts. Like every good chemical equilibrium, any external energy source must come from somewhere else outside of the system in the form of external heat sources etc. Alas, good synergist interdisciplinary takes a lot out of the researcher, and to be entrenched in both fields, is like playing the advanced stages of Plant vs Zombies 2, you have to take care of multiple fields of possibilities at once.

It's hard work, a struggle uphill and I'm just starting out at the very beginning of what is a very long journey. Nevertheless, I'd rather be in this position than anywhere else and I'm grateful that I'm in a discipline that historically have always been about exploration. We all do geography in different ways, and I'm glad that pluralism is tolerated here. =)

When I grow up

I have been mesmerised by the musical Matilda, and more notably the bittersweet and very tragic comedic aspect of Roald Dahl's work was encapsulated perfectly in Tim Minchin's translation from book to stage. I teared at this song, "When I grow up" because the cynical and double entendres below really was a blow below the belt. At the age of 24, I see this set of words very differently. Yet, the song melody is so hopeful and positive - when in reality, as adults we now know that "when we grow up" the meaning of being grown-up also entails a whole host of responsibilities.

I would advise that you watch the wonderful staging of this particular song first, and then read my thoughts about each stanza of the lyrics, and then re-watch the song - maybe you'd be able to empathize how I felt during that time.

When I grow up
I will be tall enough to reach the branches
that I need to reach to climb the trees
you get to climb when you're grown up.

Figurative trees and branches, to get on top of our lives and when we grow up, we will be joining the rat race called Life.

And when I grow up
I will be smart enough to answer all
the questions that you need to know
the answers to before you're grown up.

Growing up means we are made to answer all kinds of questions - questions of our actions, our character, our motivations etc. We have to constantly justify our goals and dreams to others.

And when I grow up
I will eat sweets every day
on the way to work and I
will go to bed late every night!

When I grow up, I eat sweets everyday (to keep me awake at work) and I go to bed late every night (because I have a lot more work to do, which will make me sleep in the day...the viscious cycle continues).

And I will wake up
when the sun comes up and I
will watch cartoons until my eyes go square
and I won't care 'cause I'll be all grown up!

I will watch cartoons until my eyes go square...indeed, sometimes I'm not exactly sure if the news on TV is reported facts or simply caricatures of people who seem to have lost their minds like Spongebob square pants. And indeed, I won't care because I've seen it all when I've grown up.

When I grow up!

When I grow up, when I grow up

I will be strong enough to carry all
the heavy things you have to haul
around with you when you're a grown-up!

And when I grow up, when I grow up

I will have to be strong to carry the burdens of life, the heavy things called responsibilities. Minchin was right ot use the word "haul" - after all, we carry all sorts of baggages around, emotional ones included.

I will be brave enough to fight the creatures
that you have to fight beneath the bed
each night to be a grown-up!

And when I grow up

We fight our fears every night when we're grown up, and indeed we will have to brave to wake up the next day to continue to fight the good fight. Living is a struggle - and every night  for some can be a time when it's most tempting to give it all up.

I will have treats every day.
And I'll play with things that Mum pretends
that Mum's don't think are fun.

We will have chocolates and ice-cream everyday, but alas at what cost? We'll play with the same things as our parents, because we will become our parents.

And I will wake up
when the sun comes up and I
will spend all day just lying in the sun
but I won't burn 'cause I'll be all grown-up!

When I grow up!

And when I grow up, when I grow up
I will be brave enough to fight the creatures
that you have to fight beneath the bed
each night to be a grown-up!

Will be back

I'll be missing-in-action until work dies down a little. It would seem that the amount of problems piling is fasting than I can say "Waiiiiitttt!".

Unfortunately, like spiderman's grandmother would say, "With great power, comes great responsibility". I should hope that I carry out my responsibilities as NUS Stage President...alas, I have always been avoiding being the "Big Boss" and now that I am...well, I guess the only way is up!

Will be back with more posts soon! In the mean time, you'll find me underneath a pile of electronic mail, angst and frustration with dealing with third parties while simultaneously also trying to write a thesis.

I believe most of my friends have more to handle, given how they are working for a salary after all...but nonetheless, I have always maintained that it is necessary to have time for oneself! I'm totally looking forward to December!

=D