Jung, you might want to dig deeper on this one

Artwork by Mitumi

We all like to take those personality tests that will tell us more about who we are. We're given random statements that we ponder about: you enjoy being surrounded by people;  others describe you as mellow and a good listener; you're the charismatic one in the group. As you fling yourself into those endless statements, rating each one meticulously, you somehow get to that much agonized "submit" button. You hold your breathe and you read the final verdict. Are you an introvert or an extrovert? 

We spend way too much time figuring this out when in reality it's all relative. If you think about it, being an extrovert doesn't really tell you much. There are extroverts out there who are invested mostly in their own advancement. They will schmooze and flatter you if it means they get to climb the ladder. But there are also those extroverts who are true givers and will go out of their way to lend a helping hand to others. The same goes for introverts. Just because you're an introvert, it doesn't necessarily mean that you're a nice sensitive person. Just like extroverts, introverts can be selfish and egotistical. 

In reality, the question you should be asking yourself is this: how much inner depth do you have? Having inner depth has less do with our extrovert/introvert tendencies and more to do with our connection to what many call the self. 

We live in a society that is way too latched to the mindless chase of money, fame or any other form of vanity metrics, and sadly this restrains us from becoming complete versions of ourselves. Too often we end up getting stuck in our own ego, dealing with our fears and anxieties.

The self, on the other hand, is the pristine side of us. When we take heed of that inner voice, we gain awareness. It's that same voice that allows artists to transform deep emotions into words, images and sounds. It's the idea of yearning for aloneness, because in our solitude we can relate to that intangible side of us, even though society might mask it as loneliness and tell that we should try to surround ourselves with as many people as we can (Let's make no mistake here, "extroverts" are just as able to seek solitude). Connecting to that spiritual side of ours--I said spiritual not religious--is the most solemn of experiences. It's the reason why we came to be in this world. 

So the next time you prepare yourself to take one of those tests, stop and think for a second. You might be better off searching for that answer somewhere else. Somewhere that's more personal. 

A husky's quest for identity

Photo by xlinnea from Imgur

Tally's a husky who was brought up by cats, and now she acts like one. Check out these photos of Tally, and you'll see her striking different feline poses just like a pro. This is not the first story of its sort, but it had me pondering about the power of social conditioning. What if you take enough huskies out of their "normal" environments and throw them in with the cats, will they start to tuck in their legs and tail when they lay down or even enjoy playing with cardboard boxes? Would such experiment change our perception of huskies and what they're capable of? If we let this experiment happen for long enough, would we eventually start to forget that huskies were "built" to endure extreme weather conditions and can be agile yet resilient, out there in the vast wilderness.

The huskies turned cats scenario is far-fetched, I know, especially if we take into consideration the important role that nature plays in the development of any living creature. Yet, just like Tally's, we've heard of stories of children who were brought up by animals and who adopted their behavior. Too often, we underplay the power of social conditioning, especially when dealing with children and teenagers.

The fact is that we all have our fixed notions of what adolescents are naturally capable of doing and not doing, and we condition them based upon those beliefs. We'll say that adolescents can not handle autonomy, so we deliver learning to them instead, and do all the thinking for them on how to go about finding the answers that we've created for them. And we don't realize that it's that very approach that is stifling autonomy in the first place because we're conditioning students to think within the limiting confines of what we call best practice. And why do we do that? Because we, in turn, have been conditioned to think and act in this way through that same system and sadly, that's all we know.

But just as some environments can stifle autonomy, others can stimulate it. This semester, I've seen my kids push boundaries. Equipped with only an overarching question-- how free are you?--and their own ingenuity, they were able to create their own projects from scratch. They're breaking down the classroom walls and going out in the field: they're pitching business plans to local supermarkets which will allow artisanal fishermen to receive a fair price for their daily catch; they're interviewing taxi drivers and experts to learn about informal economics and how it's saturating this sector; they're writing children's books and negotiating with local bookshops so that they can finance their undertaking. This came with many iterations and students have felt overwhelmed at times by all the uncertainty. But they're blossoming and it's been great for me to witness that process.

So let's go back to that "what if" scenario I started this post with. Wouldn't it be a pity to live in a world where all huskies were reduced to laze around the house playing with a yarn ball or hiding in a cardboard box. "That's extremely unlikely," many of you will say. Fair enough. But what if I applied that same example to children and adolescents. Would it be so far-fetched then?

A man-made tragedy

Some of my best childhood memories take me back to the Mediterranean Sea.  I remember how as a child my mother would take me to Birzebbuga Bay and I'd spend countless hours in the warm, turquoise waters playing with my red miniature makeshift ferry boat, shuttling Playmobile figures to imaginary destinations.  In all my imaginary trips, those passengers always made it safe and sound to their destination. While my head wondered in the sheltered confines of that bay, I felt just like those Playmobile figures; I was out of harms way. 

Just like me, the immigrants who sat sail from Africa use makeshift boats, but they're long haul voyages aren't imaginary. And they get to see a much different side of the Mediterranean: it's dark, it's freezing, it's savagely rough.   

Yet every week, refugees mostly from Sub-Saharan Africa, pay large sums of money in search of the greener pastures in Europe. But sadly, many of those frail vessels end up capsizing. Many immigrants have been rescued, but many others perish in the Mediterranean. Just imagine, only last night around 600 immigrants lost their lives off the coast of Libya. 600 bodies, including those of women and children dispersed in the vast waters of the Mediterranean. CNN estimates that only this year 1500 people have drowned in the Mediterranean.

The EU says that this matter needs to be tackled at its root, and many unwittingly-some knowingly- claim that the root cause is Libya's unstable government. If the government was legitimate, they say, there would be no boats leaving Libya in the first place. But that's only the tip of the iceberg: what many forget is that for decades Africa has been crippled by unfair subsidies and tariffs, aid has been ineffective, and most importantly, when the colonialists divided their priced toy-continent in the 19th and 20th century, they didn't take into consideration the ethnic and cultural divisions that they were subjecting the new states to. The fact is that, after its colonization, Africa was never really put into the condition to thrive as a continent. And that's on all of us.

There's a graveyard on Europe's doorstep, but many are turning a blind eye. We're all bystanders and just because we don't get to see the bodies of the sunken ones, it doesn't mean they're not there. So I cannot but think of those thousands of people who have perished in the inclement sea and whose stories have perished with. 

Selling out

Artwork by Gus Design courtesy of Design Crowd

When I write, I usually tend to put on something soothing, maybe some Ludovico Einaudi or an instrumental soundtrack to think better. This time though, I'm going for U2. I could be listening to One or Where the Streets have no Name; they're wholesome, they're U2 classics. But for this particular post, I'm blasting some brassier, unmelodious U2 stuff. This album is one misunderstood work of art. 

Some of you haven't even heard of POP, but if you're U2 die-hard fans, and I'm sure there are a few still around, then there's a good probability you dislike this record. The release of POP had been rushed. The band simply ran out of time in the making of it, so since it had already been pushed it back several times, the band went on to publish an unpolished version of POP.

Not only was this album unfinished, but the record's rawness didn't quite soothe the fan's refined palate. So they dismissed it as U2 going all techno. The band was a sellout. They couldn't have been more wrong.

This album can be deceiving because many will struggle to find meaning beneath the cacophony of Mofo or the triviality of Discotheque. The tracks in POP are layered differently, but they all ultimately expose the listener to the state of bewilderment we're often faced with, call it faith, call it relationships or call it our own identity. POP might sound rough and incomplete, yet, in many ways, the record's imperfections reflect our own. 

But I'm not here to defend POP. I'm just nostalgic for the U2 that once was. In the 90's this band was at the peak of its fame, yet Bono and Co still pushed their creative confines. It was exactly that kind of mindset that led to the inception of Achtung Baby. POP might not be up there, but it's a unique and highly creative work of art from that same period.

After the release of POP, U2 decided to go back to basics. The idea behind the album that followed POP- All that you can't leave behind- made sense at the time, but it all went awry after that. The last two studio albums have been pathetic versions of the ballsy band U2 once was.

The Guardian's Kitty Empire epitomized it best on her review for their most recent work, Songs of Innocence: U2 is trying to sound "like Coldplay sounding like U2." U2 hasn't been the only band to meet this fate; the list of musicians, ranging from REM to Dave Matthews, is endless. So what is it? Do these artists just grow old? Do they simply run out of ideas? I doubt it. How would you then explain those artists like Beck, who've been around for decades, and whose music is still eclectic and relevant? 

Like Beck, U2 was taking those great leaps in the name of art. Like Beck, they were experimenting and willing to seek new journeys. In fact with POP, the band was not selling out, far from it. If anything, the band started to sell out the very moment it tried to sound like the old U2. The irony. 

And as I internalize all this, there's a question that keeps pestering me. Who am  I? Beck or U2? 

Use it

We're not fleas. We might let our anxieties and fears get the best of us; our survival instinct might play dirty tricks on us and make us resist change, but unlike fleas, humans have a brain that has evolved beautifully over the span of time. Unlike fleas, humans have the mental capacity to break down boundaries and explore.

The reason though that many of us choose not to use it is that it's an easier option. After all, when we choose to conform, we're not isolating ourselves from the rest of the fray, we're becoming part of it. And that's when the instinct kicks in again: we feel safe.

In my ten plus years of teaching, I've always found comfort in being part of a system and simply fulfilling my role within it. I just carried on with my work and did it mindlessly. It wasn't until I started reading educational literature that the deep questions started to flow, and the more I questioned, the more I realized that that we perceived the educational system just like fleas perceived their space. We fabricated mental boundaries that were holding us back.

So I chose to take a leap and be part of a startup company, the Innovation Academy, and set out to explore the unfamiliar. At this point, you might expect me to say that everything came up roses, but it didn't. Innovation is a darn hard process. Yet it was only through those hardships that I was able to learn these invaluable life lessons.

Feedback 

Some weeks ago, Matthias, a student of mine, wrote about how we have to use the feedback others give us to improve rather than letting ourselves feel diminished by it. I couldn't agree more, but here's the caveat: one has to always sift through the feedback and get rid of the pushback that comes from the naysayers. The naysaying is a result of people feeling threatened by what they don't know. Having said that, Bill, Corey and I have been very lucky to be challenged by people who genuinely care about what we're doing. Those are usually the people whose comments might be discomforting and messy, but at the end of the day, there would not be an IA if it wasn't for the feedback that forces us to think and question.

Photograph: Richard Rutledge/Merce Cunnigham Trust 

Self-doubt 

Like falling, self doubt can be an asset; it all a matter of perception. When we tread an unfamiliar path, we're bound to be faced with self-doubt, because novelty leaves little room for certainty. But when we harness it, we'll discover that the very emotion that once terrified us can indeed give us momentum. Often times this year, I've come to the realization that the doubts I used to loath so much, were in fact a blessing in disguise; as I learned to coexist with and seek to understand those doubts, I was able to question more and iterate forward. I'll even go as far as saying that if you're not doubting yourself, you should start to worry.

Time

One of the biggest misconceptions is that change can be instant. Disclaimer: it's not. It might take ages before you can start seeing the fruits of your labour if you'll ever be lucky enough to see them in the first place. So it's not just about dealing with uncertainty, but most importantly, you have to be able to power through it all over a long period of time. When I started teaching the IA, I assumed it would all fall into place straight away, and I couldn't have been more wrong. The process is strenuous and intense.  Thankfully, on those murky days,  I can latch to purpose, my inner bearing. The bottom-line is that, even though the process is messy and daunting, I've never felt this alive before.

I'll end this post in the same way that I started it: we're not fleas. We might have our flaws, our fears and our insecurities, but at the end of the day, we have no excuse. A bird's purpose is to fly, man's to tinker.

Don't be naive

Mark Zuckenberg and Steve Jobs dropped out of college and went on to change the world. Does it mean that you have to be a college dropout to leave your own dent? Of course not. 

You also don't have to attend Northern Michigan University just because Howard Schultz did and you want to become a great CEO someday. 

I majored in Italian and trust me that's not THE route to international teaching.

There's no such thing as a single path in life. If you believe it, you'd be ignoring the biggest variable, you. There are stories though, plenty of them, and you, my friend, will get to tell yours one day.

Keep calm and...yeah right

I remember the scene very vividly in my head. I was 21 years-old and had gone to pay my annual car insurance fee. As I sat and waited, I recall staring at the employees there. They were mostly in their mid-twenties and they seemed to go along their day with little concern for time or deadlines. But then, this gangly guy wearing a large suit caught my attention. He was somewhere in his early forties. He kept fidgeting uncontrollably and was sweating profusely as he wobbled from one cubicle to the next. He was the manager, but you wouldn't have been able to tell from his demeanor. The man in the shapeless suit who was having an awful day was at the mercy of his awkward gesticulations. He looked pathetic not only in my eyes, but, I guess, also in those of his colleagues who clearly didn't seem to care enough about his work-related woes. The 21 year-old me who thought he could be immune from all kind of mundane stress, smirked and thought to himself: "How pathetic, I'll never go down that road."

So, you can see where this is going, right? 14 years later I did end up going down that path and some weeks ago I came to that realization. I was having a bad day and caught myself going through the same comical motions as those of that unfortunate gangly guy years before.  I might not have been wearing a baggy suit, but I'm pretty sure I was having a mini-meltdown, and thank god, there were no 21 year-olds in the room looking at me. But looking back, I've had other ones and yes, students have seen me in such state.

The bottom line is that I was never immune from life's hurdles after all. And now that I'm coming to terms with my fragility in the face of stress, I know I need to have some coping mechanisms to deal with it. But no matter how many self-help books you might read, the hours of meditation you might invest and the countless counseling sessions, the fact is that you'll always find yourself in those kind of situations that too often will take the best out of you. So if there's one take-away, it's this one: do something in your life that's worthwhile. Choose a calling over a career, because when you will have to endure those humbling situations, it won't all be in vain.  Most importantly, don't be the laid-back colleague who could care less.