Personal Essay For My Juv. Delinquency Class

TJ was the one that all the leaders were worried about. Well, I had good leaders. Hopefully they were worried about all of us. But TJ, apparently, was ‘on the margin,’ whatever that means. He would come to church, fairly regularly. He would even wear a white shirt and tie—with the sagging blue jeans and skater shoes to round out the ensemble. His hair, not to be out done, made its own statement in a way not completely dissimilar to the statement being made just below it. It was long, but not too long. It was brushed over to one side in a way that could not have been styled passively, yet didn’t scream “I obsess about how I look.” TJ made me think that he cared enough to give the impression that he doesn’t care. But I knew better. I knew enough that I didn’t worry about him very much. Chalk it up to naiveté or sophomoric apathy on my part if you want; but looking back on my interactions with TJ, he was one who did not make me feel like I was being judged or that certain expectations were not being met. I saw that he was an OK kid wanting to be trusted with his own life. I saw that through how he treated me. It was almost a case of one social misfit sympathizing with another social misfit.
To describe my high-school self as a social misfit may be the most irresponsible and ridiculous way to use the word—from an outsider’s point of view, anyway. In retrospect, I was just fine and lacked a real reason to be disappointed in my high school experience. But I felt on the bubble. I felt like a misfit. I bring my own experience up in order to set a kind of perspective on what kind of guy I saw TJ to be. He may have been marginalized, but he wore it well. I fit in that ever-broadening, ever-redefined margin along with TJ, but I didn’t like it like he did. I didn’t embrace it like he did. I was friends, acquaintances really, with the popular, rich, funny kids during school. But Friday afternoon hit, and there was only one, very residential place to find me until Sunday morning when church beckoned, and then Monday morning, when early-morning seminary summoned. What’s more? My high school had release time, but I still went to the early-morning section! Why? Because choir and orchestra met at specific times of the day; not leaving my English, Math, and Social Studies classes much wiggle room. Yeah, I could have worked it out so that I did not force myself into a bleak situation that left me with but one option. But early-morning seminary kids build a connection unlike other early-morning classes could. I wanted to fit in somewhere, and nothing secures you a niche like have a sob story about early seminary to whine about; drawing attention to yourself in the process, of course.
Really, TJ and I were not all that different, we just had different interests. He had drugs. I had the cello. You may or may not see immediately the similarity between the two. His drugs were fulfilling the same social need that my cello was. (‘K, they were just cigarettes. But I was going for the shock value. Did it work?) We were both acting out, just in a little different of ways. He most likely never did any of the hard stuff. Sure, a pack of cigs and a forty of beer were completely outside my realm of acceptable behavior. But even though he had plenty of opportunities to go farther, (the people he hung around certainly did go farther) his delinquency seemed to hold steady at the cigarettes and beer culture. He would step outside of that every once in a while to come to church and play teachers basketball. He still came on our Young Men’s lake trips; even the occasional Wednesday night activity. He was never that bad.
On the other, yet similar hand, I played the cello. I associated with the upper-echelons of high school-aged musicians in Arizona. I can’t say high school musicians because some of them were so good, they didn’t have time for high school. They were too busy with music. Even though I was around them a lot, I never was truly one of them. I was the worst of the best; while TJ was the best of the worst. We both wanted to be extreme, but we just could not commit ourselves to our respective extremity. Ours was a kind of reluctant delinquency. “I’ll show you,” we both seemed to say to the moderate middle. “I’ll show you that I can be hard core if I wanted to, but I choose to not be.” Hard core? Really? Sure. But hardcore in name, and just barely enough effort to secure that name, only.
My group looked down on his group, and his group resented my group. Yet when we were around each other and had reason to talk to each other, we could connect. Here I was, the preppy kid without a cause; and there he was, the rebel without a cause. Why did I get dressed up for church and go to mutual every week and participate in a lot of different activities like sports and music without ever really sinking my teeth into them? I don’t know. Maybe I will just revert to the cliché answer that I was looking for acceptance, and convenient acceptance, nonetheless. I was trying to do just the bare minimum to gain the title “preppy.” On the other hand, why did TJ come to church often and wear a shirt and tie and stay involved with school, but only among the punk, skater group; all the while putting out the impression that he could fall off the cliff any time, but never quite going all the way? Further establishing the cliché, he may have also been looking for acceptance, among a myriad of other possible reasons. Funny how, even about yourself, you never know 100% why someone did something.
II. Background
TJ lived down the street from me. We both lived in the same neighborhood for a while; maybe five or six years. It’s not like he got transplanted into a foster family to stay for a while, or that he was an outsider; our neighborhoods were literally the same. So you can’t say that we were coming from completely separate worlds or something. This leads me to wonder why we did act so differently. It may have been partly because Heritage Street couldn’t hold us. If we revisit the “extreme” theme, we see that the neighborhood actually did not have a huge impact on either of us. Heritage Street didn’t need to hold me. I was content being a good kid at home. My parents moved our family to that neighborhood to cut out any distraction to their parenting; actually quite a good move on their part. But I probably would not have been much different in any other neighborhood. As for TJ, Heritage Street had no interest in keeping him around. We on Heritage Street prided ourselves on being so tight-knit despite our lack of gated-communityness. (Again I include as a resident of the neighborhood rather than a part of the neighborhood.) Because TJ was not an asset to the tight-knit nature of the neighborhood, he couldn’t strengthen it. Therefore, the neighborhood didn’t need him, so it didn’t do anything for him. Or so he felt. I don’t really believe that Heritage Street residents were so stratifying. But I believe that’s how it was perceived, especially by TJ.
Because we really did have leaders who were not overly judgmental, and in an effort to not be too extreme, TJ was not a stranger. We had one leader, Richard, who was especially welcoming and forgiving, but not in a Young-Women kind of way. No cookies changed hands, but heart-felt talks about what was going on certainly took place. Of course Richard’s experience with Anasazi only helped us. Anasazi is a high-adventure survival camp for troubled youth, and Richard had been a counselor. He didn’t coddle us, but he didn’t just let us go, either. Although he told us from the beginning, “When Bishop gave me this calling, he just wanted me to keep you guys the same. I don’t need to save any of you;” he still cared about us. The fact that I’m talking about Richard now is something of a tribute to his very positive influence on all of us; from the kid that everyone else worried (TJ), to the preppy kid who never got into trouble (me).
I remember Richard saying things about TJ like “I really like that kid,” or “TJ is so cool.” TJ was a huge fan of the band Metallica, and Richard had been to a bunch of Metallica concerts and knew all about the band. Richard, apparently, had something of a delinquent past, same as TJ. But he had turned around. They even had similar body-types. They had a lot in common. One sight that will stay with me for a long time is that of Richard and TJ sitting on folding chairs in the sand bank on Lake Powell during a Young Men’s boating trip. TJ had blown up at one of the other boys and stormed off after an f-word or two. Having built a strong relationship with him already, Richard went immediately over and spoke with him for a while. I don’t know what was said, of course. But I do remember their demeanor. I hadn’t seen TJ quite so calm and open as when I saw him and Richard talk it out. That scene is among a very few that I feel has really influenced my attitude toward other people. I don’t freak out about a member whom I home-teach not coming to church; and I didn’t take it personally when an investigator didn’t come to a meeting. These are silly things to be upset about, I feel. There are other problems that are more of an issue when someone doesn’t come to Family Home Evening than simply not coming to Family Home Evening. In TJ’s case, the “problem” or “issue” or “challenge” or whatever was something other than his long hair or skater shoes at church. And Richard realized that.
III. Recommendations
I can’t say much about TJ’s home life. His parents were active in the church and they provided a safe living environment. TJ’s father was in the piano business. He restored and tuned pianos, and TJ helped out with that. I never saw them fight with each other. From what I saw, there wasn’t much more for TJ’s parents to do. However, I saw how my leaders treated him, and I do not feel regretful about it. I think they did a fantastic job. We had a few boys in my Young Men’s group who were not model church members. They kept their hair long or wore their pants sagging a bit, but that did not make them bad people. I have seen, however, undue pressure put on similar boys in other wards. Their leaders guilted them into fitting the stereotypical bill of an LDS adolescent. Thankfully, my leaders never expected one of us to show up on the latest “For the Strength of Youth” pamphlet. That relieved them of undue, unfitting expectations. We had pressure enough, TJ included, to do better. Richard and the other leaders were truly on our side and gave us whatever support we needed.
TJ moved into the ward when he was about 13 or 14 from a much more delinquent-prone neighborhood. I’m sure that’s how his behavior got started. But it really didn’t get worse once he moved. He just hovered around the same level of disobedience. Perhaps, though, the single greatest part of the LDS Church’s organization is the positive male presence. TJ had a dad who was fulfilling his divine appointment as father. He had a caring bishop, an understanding Young Men’s leader, two home teachers at his disposal, a faithful Sunday School teachers, and a handful of friends’ fathers. TJ’s weekly involvement in the church networked him to half a dozen grown male mentors.
This masculine resource can be made available through other means besides just church programs. Male public school teachers should have training and helped to realize their role as model examples of responsibility. Boys PE in junior high comes with benefits far surpassing physical fitness. It is a perfect opportunity for coaches to teach skills and principles beyond push-ups and dodge ball to boys who are just coming to realize the emotional differences between men and women. I would hope that all male teachers realize similar opportunities, no matter the prescribed curriculum of their discipline. I would hope they realize that “learning across the curriculum” does not simply mean writing essays for math class. While it wasn’t public school teachers who helped TJ, the principle of example can be extended to anyone with prolonged exposure with juveniles.

Berger and Bauman's Gardener

I see the Gardener model of Modernity and the Game Keeper model of Pre-Modernity as similar to Berger’s idea of construction. That is, we seek to create a patterned consistency out of a life that we do not control. Yet we cannot know that such a pattern or routine is our own construct. Such a realization would allow us to change the pattern since we made it to begin with. Changing it would demean and undermine it. If we really did come up with the rules, then we came up with the meanings, also. We would have shaped and formed the rules to align with the meaning; to align with what we think is right or true or good or moral.
The difference between the Gardener Model and Berger’s model is the element of our own state of meaning and knowing. That is, the Gardener Model assumes individuals’ and groups’ autonomy and freedom to create a reality of their own design and preference; and Berger states that we are to accept what is given, and explain and classify it ways that are in harmony with what is good or moral. Berger claims that we cannot know that we create our own worlds and realities. But as far as we have discussed so far in class, Bauman makes no such claim in his Gardener Model. According to Bauman, we do not need to fool ourselves into thinking that we have no control over our respective realities. In fact, this is counter to the argument behind the design and planned nature to the Garden. We are supposed to come up with a plan. Designing our own societies and cultures is not only expected, but it is the responsible thing to do. Without a plan or a design, we would not be able to differentiate between what is acceptable and helpful to our goals and preferences, and what is detrimental and harmful to our goals and preferences. Such plans and designs give us direction and guidance. They give us freedom to accept or reject new variables that arise during our experience while interacting with others’ “gardens.” Moreover, they force us to make decisions when we do come across something new. We much choose whether that new thing should be a part of our design.
For example, it is very hard to be ambivalent or dismissive of the war in the Middle East. Not necessarily because everyone is forced to decide on the issue of war and violence and its legitimacy in a cultured, refined society. Nor is everyone forced to decide on the merits of this war in particular and the complicated and intricate elements of the war, such as the assumed legitimacy of the Sunnis or Shiites in the region, or the control over oil in the region, or even the conspiracy theories that include the United States long-standing desire to take over the area. The reason that we are forced to choose whether or not the war fits our design may include these. But does someone like Paris Hilton need to make such a decision. With as self-centered a plan as she has, what interest does she have in the war? Perhaps the media is the lowest-common denominator in this case. The war is constantly talked about and reflected on among the media conglomerate. Hilton is also a central figure among the same cohort. If she wants to keep her status and popularity, she should probably know to some extent what her competition is.
The difference is that the Garden has a Game Keeper with which it may contrast itself, while Bauman makes no mention of such a change or dichotomy. I don’t remember studying Berger as a modernist who made the distinction between current and pre-modern societies. Therefore, I don’t know for sure that he would really accept that people can realize their own roles in creating their own realities. However, fooling ourselves into believing that we are more made than makers is explained in the Game Keeper Model, which Berger would be able to accept.

Take What God Gives You

In true modernist fashion, I hereby state that we are better now than we were before. The present is an improvement upon the past, and to make changes to our current society that would make us more like past people and cultures from how we are now would be a regression and the opposite of improvement. Examples would be how we no longer believe that the cause of a valcano eruption is a god expressing his wrath. We don't believe that rain is angels' tears, and an outbreak of malaria is simply a lot of mosquitoes who spread the disease and a lack of prevention on the part of those affected. Really, these risks that are indicative of and associated with pre-modernity are still risks today. The big difference is the perceived causes of such natural risks. We have positive, natural science to thank for that. It is still being refined, of course. But we can certainly receive such knowledge without betraying God. If we believe that God created everything, we must believe that includes science. Therefore, a study of science is, in part, a study of God.
This modernization of knowledge and science also helps our understanding of God; and in more indirect ways than just another facet of Him, those facets including natural science. The modernization of social science has also opened up a valuation of reflexivity and reopened, some might even say 'restored,' past ideologies that were unnaturally extinguished. Such reflexivity can only be a good thing; well, honest reflexivity can only be a good thing. Like any responsible scientist, we won't say that stepping back out of the context and thinking objectively reveals truth. But such processes will sift out that which is not accurate. This leaves more plausible possibilities to be tested and eventually substituted for further, more acceptable possibilities.
The Reformers all came out of the modernist tradition. They thought critically about what they saw. They questioned. They second-guessed. They asked “What if?” and “Why?” The effectiveness and accuracy of religion is tough to be measured, however. There are no exogenous checks or tests of the root system by which we may know whether such changes are improvements. The only tests available to us are the ones given by the source of such an ideology as a belief in the non-testable. Such tests would include a feeling “in the mind and in the heart,” and a “burning in the bosom,” and “by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things.” These tests have a heavy assumption, of course. This assumption is that we accept God to be a literal Heavenly Father who shows His patriarchal care for us by providing a way to live with Him and our loved ones again. The Reformers held such an assumption, and modified their theologies to most closely resemble and reflect that assumption.
The ultimate and most extreme of the Reformers would be those whom claim a knowledge and truth which they received; not by reasoning themselves to a point of logic security, nor by forming a hypothesis and dismissing all other options. Their ideas, through a rational process according to the traditional theological assumption, came straight from the source, and therefore are not tainted by terrestrial factors. It is a wonder to me that more people didn’t see this logical path to a divine claim. All we have; in mainstream theology, anyway; are Mohammed, Joseph Smith, and Reverend Moon, who is more on the fringe. They all claim direct revelation from the source of all theology: Heavenly Father. If this one great assumption is accepted, then there isn’t really a way out of believing any one of these men; before, that is, we read their works for ourselves and receive a witness in our own souls that what they put forward is true. What is more reflexive than returning straight to the very foundation of your baseline assumptions as these men did?

The Force of the Better Argument-April 06

The force of the better argument that Habbermas provides us seems like kind of a downer philosophy. Stated, it provides for any alternative; limited, however, to the alternatives brought up by the participants. So we can pick from anything we want, as long as someone has already thought of it. It’s almost like a cop-out excuse for why something did or did not happen. I especially feel that way during election time. At one point, I was asking how we have Obama, Hillary, and McCain to choose from out of three hundred million Americans. How in the world did we limit ourselves so drastically? Are these three our only alternatives? We have a man who alienates everyone he meets in J Mack; a woman in H-Dawg who is either willing to turn a blind eye to adultery or who is too obtuse to realize its existence in her own house; and a community organizer/Ivory Tower resident turned CEO in Chief who uses money which is not his to buy toxic investments that he does not plan on capitalizing. (On a side note: does that make him all that different from the irresponsible lenders who handed out fixed-rate mortgages like bobble-heads at the ballpark? Did they, and he, ever think that they were actually going to be able to recover the loans?)
Of course I do not wish to come across as negative or with a defeatist attitude. Moreover, I realize that I do not fully understand or comprehend the burden and responsibility of the Presidency; or even a candidacy for the Presidency. Therefore, in judging these actors’ decisions, my judgment cannot be completely clear. But this circles back around to Habbermas’ point. When a group of people assemble to explore alternatives in a decision-making process, they are forced to submit to the force of the better argument. And for the sake of review: they yield to what is rational to create the ideal speech situation. However, politics really does not lend itself to rational choices: If rationality is based on incentives (a la: which decision will best help us meet our goals), and if politics has subjective incentives whose variation from person to person or group to group is so high, then politics cannot have a very strong rationality. Or at least, when brought to the public sphere, the validity claims run rampant to the point of trampling the Benefit of the Doubt. (Funny how the Benefit of the Doubt will benefit the Doubtful, yet Benefit itself is doubted.) This stampede occurs before Empathy sets in. But Empathy is the wild card when it comes to decision-making and contesting multiple alternatives. We cannot count on it actually making an appearance, especially when it is threatened by hard-nosed talking heads that do not have much incentive to offer it a seat at the discussion table. National politics, therefore, often are reduced down to a decision of the lesser of two evils.
Yet, what more is there than these two ‘evils’? What can we choose from? Who else can provide an idea? Maybe America is simply too complicated and diverse too be able to benefit from any one person or ideology. Maybe there is no such thing as the better argument; much less its force. Well, not maybe. Actually, such an absence can be clearly observed. Even among those participants who are able to stay level-headed, soften their nose a bit, offer benefit to the doubters and skeptics; these folk still come up with some very convincing arguments going both ways. Even if there is a force to the better argument, we cannot award the Better Argument ribbon because we honestly cannot tell which is better or more rational. Even if B.O., H-Dawg and J-Mack were the most brilliant, capable, and liked individuals in the country; we still wouldn’t be able to agree on one because the choices are all relative to the other choices. When all the alternatives are present, and we may choose only from those, then there is no standard by which we may judge. Like marriage: if you include it to mean anything, then it means nothing. So really, I have no qualms about Obama being president. If all I had to choose from really was those three, and I really like or really do not like them all the same, then it does not make a difference which one is elected. (My defeatism creeps back in now and we see that I basically gave up on presidential politics. Which, honestly, I have.)
But our choices MUST be limited, right? So even in exploring alternative explanations to the fact that we are limited to alternative explanations, we see a limitation to the alternative explanations: a kind of meta-alternative?