Sneeze7x – Blue Cereal Education

I have a confession. One which is likely to shatter your adoration for my suave veneer and perpetually professional perspicacity. In fact, send the children out of the room, because –

I like hockey.

More specifically, I like Dallas Stars hockey – especially when mingled with the weird world of Hockey Twitter Commentary during games. When you follow and love the same team, you become a strange little community… not exactly friends, but more than random fans at the same game. It’s fun. And maddening. And sometimes just odd.

Then there are the feels…

Of course, emotions can run dark as well as light. I mean, it’s live – so there’s that. It’s also semi-anonymous. Even those using their real names aren’t real people in your real life with real faces and real feelings, right?

I realize the logic falls apart pretty quickly there, but that’s kinda my point.

It’s also Twitter, meaning “not a private line” – anyone in the world can look up what you’ve written and hold you to it. This has the potential to become a thing when controversy and strong emotions mix.

Often, during hockey, controversy and strong emotions mix.

Especially when someone gets hurt. Not normal hockey hurt – but ‘uh oh, that looked bad’ hurt. This happened Thursday evening when the Stars visited the Tampa Bay Lightning – a particularly strong team loaded with offensive talent and surrounded by a passionate fan base.

I don’t follow many Tampa people, but response from the Dallas end was predictable…

Hedman – the player receiving that hit – left the ice and didn’t return.

And then it got uglier – in the game AND on Twitter – with what looked like retaliation – and that’s also where it became interesting from more than a hockey standpoint.

I respectfully suggest that what unfolded over the next few minutes was a lesson in perspective and assumptions, with maybe a few big words like ‘confirmation bias’ thrown in for good measure. I’d also argue that the lessons potentially learned from this round of Twitter Fallout could be applied in realms ranging from political arguments to interpersonal relationships to discussions over education reform.

See, some of us got pissed.

My outrage was not without provocation. I’m at home on my couch, watching events unfold on my TV. The camera zooms in on the injured player – MY injured player – while the Stars’ broadcast team expresses concern over his condition. As the extent of his suffering becomes clear, the crowd’s applause swells in the background – and with it, my blood pressure, my adrenaline, and my just-two-beers-I-swear-fueled sense of injustice and twitter-outrage.

It is clear, it is unspeakable, and it is objectively horrific.

Except the crowd in Tampa watching the game live didn’t view a half-dozen slow-mo replays of Benn’s hit on their guy – who they feel like they know and care for. They saw it once in real time, maybe a replay on the Jumbotron, and their guy was hurt enough to leave the ice – which brings the feels. Nor would they have side-by-side video comparing it with the retaliatory hit a minute later.

As the kerfuffle brews after the hit on McKenzie, most people physically there would be drawn to the developing scuffle, the potential for a rather large-scale fight. So yeah, the cheering increases – but we’re experiencing two different things. I’m watching McKenzie, MY GUY, listening to familiar voices confirming my fears; they’re watching a potential fight of all-on-all at a live event with only group feels to drive their reactions.

On the surface we appear to be reacting at the same time to the same events, but we’re not exactly working from the same reality. It’s not just that we disagree – we’re not even addressing the same things.

Time for more preconceptions to enter the mix…

My hockey world consists largely of TV viewing and Stars Twitter – a mixed group, to be sure, a bit cynical and sometimes pissy as hell, but not a group which generally chants for blood or demonstrates pleasure when someone gets injured – no matter what the team or circumstances.

Well, maybe if it were Corey Perry. But otherwise, never.

We tend to give one another the benefit of the doubt when, you know – THE FEELINGS – so when I’m challenged on my interpretation, it is through that lens:

Look what the power of relationships and presumed goodwill can do to change the tone of a discussion. I don’t even KNOW these guys in real life. To the best of my knowledge, I’ve never even interacted with Kedge online before.

But we see ourselves as ‘on the same side’, and consequently I receive their comments much differently than I might otherwise. We’re all suddenly showing our bellies and reassuring ourselves that we’re all good.

Take a moment and mentally apply this to any of your favorite realms of recurring consternation – political, social, personal, or professional – and the parties involved.

Imagine the change if we began with different assumptions about one another. I’m not saying all intentions are good or all participants pure-of-heart – just that we might wait until they’ve established actual malice before proceeding under that paradigm.

In other words, let’s not be like me during hockey.

The next day I was called out by someone I don’t know at all – a writer who covers the Lightning. By way of perspective, writers for SBNation.com contribute as a labor of love – they’re not making serious money; they’re fans.

I asked for clarification, and he referred me to his comments of the previous evening:

What’s the difference in perception?

Well, he knows his team, for one. He has history with the players and a feel for what they are or aren’t likely to do. He probably attends live games in Tampa, and thus sees things through arena norms compared to my televised paradigm. When I’m watching hockey, I’m a fan participating in social dynamics; when he’s watching, he’s a fan doubling as a reporter.

I’m not saying he’s right. Don’t be ridiculous. Clearly I’m far more outraged, therefore justice is on MY side.

But I AM suggesting that there’s something to be gained by viewing circumstances through other lenses. His dissent – while not particularly warm and fuzzy – was also not personal. He finds my thinking bewildering… perhaps inane. But that’s what he attacks – my position. He can even explain why he thinks so, with just the right amount of tone.

OK, maybe it’s a tad belittling – but still…

I’ve been attacked on Twitter in far more juvenile ways, I assure you. It’s a gift I have, bringing out that side in others. And me, so demure and naïve in the ways of the world.

I have absolutely no interest in some sort of passive relativism preventing us from arguing or resolving anything as we scrape and bow before one another’s point of view. God knows if we’re going to make any meaningful progress in the realm of public education (or anything else) we’ll need vigorous and thoughtful debate.

But perhaps those debates will be more productive and our own insights a bit richer if we begin with different assumptions about one another and work from there.

Unless it’s during hockey.

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There’s a story in the Old Testament which –

Oh. Don’t worry. I’m not going to say anything particularly evangelical. This is one of them there ‘Bible as Literature’ moments. It works the same whether you’re a Sunday-go-to-Meetin’ type or a backslidden heathen of some sort. Just work with me here, people.

There’s a story in the Old Testament which has always kinda done ‘spoke to me’. It involved the prophet Elisha, who was one of the heavies. Following in the footsteps of Elijah, he was a high-octane, kinda-scary weird-guy-in-the-wilderness type prophet. This was the guy who, when mocked by some young men for being bald, had God bring two bears out of the woods to maul forty-two of them to death.

Not judging here, just saying this isn’t ‘Distant Stare’ Jesus with toddlers on his lap. This is an OLD Testament guy.

So Elisha has shown favor to a man and his wife, who have in turn taken him in from time to time (II Kings 4). He promises the woman she’ll have a son, which she has trouble accepting, as her husband is a tad ancient. The woman nevertheless spawns a lad, which makes her pretty happy, until one day the kid dies out of the blue from a brain aneurism or some such thing. Pretty tragic stuff, especially after his seemingly miraculous arrival.

The woman hunts down Elisha and begins chewing him out – rather bold, given his recent bear activity.

“Did I ask you for a son, my lord?” she said. “Didn’t I tell you, ‘Don’t raise my hopes’?”

Elisha’s reaction is interesting. He reacts with urgency – almost a touch of panic:

Elisha said to Gehazi, “Tuck your cloak into your belt, take my staff in your hand and run. Don’t greet anyone you meet, and if anyone greets you, do not answer. Lay my staff on the boy’s face.” But the child’s mother said, “As surely as the Lord lives and as you live, I will not leave you.” So he got up and followed her.

There’s a lesson here about stubborn supplication, but that’s not where I’m going with it this time. I also have to wonder about a miracle baby who dies young then gets alive again in terms of the foreshadowing, but… also not where we’re heading on this occasionally inspirational but essentially secular edu-blog. (See, I told you it wouldn’t be evangelical! Trust issues, much?)

Gehazi went on ahead and laid the staff on the boy’s face, but there was no sound or response. So Gehazi went back to meet Elisha and told him, “The boy has not awakened.”

So THAT’s discouraging.

When Elisha reached the house, there was the boy lying dead on his couch. He went in, shut the door on the two of them and prayed to the Lord. Then he got on the bed and lay on the boy, mouth to mouth, eyes to eyes, hands to hands. As he stretched himself out on him, the boy’s body grew warm.

Set aside your 21st century terror of perverts lurking around every corner and visualize a holy man laying himself down in the shape of a cross to redeem another. The Old Testament LOVES these echoes of the New, for those of you who ain’t currently redeemed and thus aware of such things. Steinbeck and Kingsolver got nuthin’ on Jeremiah when it comes to Biblical allusions – and his were preemptive!

Elisha turned away and walked back and forth in the room and then got on the bed and stretched out on him once more. The boy sneezed seven times and opened his eyes.

There it is. That’s the part that gets me every time. “The boy sneezed seven times… and opened his eyes.”

What a messy, embarrassing way to come back to life. I hate sneezing – it’s almost as unbearable as the hiccups. What kind of cruel universe would even allow such developments in the human beast? Forget wars, racism, greed, and lust – sneezing and hiccupping are THE WORST.

Compare this to something far glowier, like Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead, or emerging himself several chapters later. The rays of light, the music, the angels in the background, maybe a goose pimple or two. Instead, here, we get snot hitting your arm while you try not to flinch. Yuck.

If you think about the things in your life, or your teaching, or your marriage, or your child-rearing, or whatever, which have brought you the FURTHEST towards real understanding, real breakthrough, real life… are they the glowy happy times, or the messy chaotic what-the-freaking $#%&* times?

The things that really wake us up or propel us into lifier aliveness are often awkward and embarrassing. Literal birth itself is a disgusting mess no matter WHAT sort of shiny rhetoric you throw at it; how appropriate, then, that rebirth be at least somewhat problematic.

And that’s OK.

Elisha summoned Gehazi and said, “Call the Shunammite.” And he did. When she came, he said, “Take your son.” She came in, fell at his feet and bowed to the ground. Then she took her son and went out.

Finally, it’s a nice ironic flourish that life returns through sneezing in this story. Our customary “Gesundheit!” or “Bless you!” when another sneezes is generally thought to stem from the fear their spirit might shoot right out of their body. This is the precise OPPOSITE of that – what we in the business call “a lil’ twist.”

Then again, sneezing was also sometimes interpreted as a sign of blessing in the ancient world – the PAGAN world, that is. You probably remember that Telemachus fella’ from the Odyssey sneezing and making Penelope laugh. She recognized this as an omen that her enemies would all die at the hands of Odysseus – so, good times on that! But that’s MUCH less cool as a final not-even-a-twist AND tends to push the Old Testament closer to the camp of other ‘ancient’ literature or mythology. I’m not sure I want to do that here. Josh Brecheen would flip!

Either way, remember when you’re feeling awkward, or foolish, or pretty sure you’re screwing up, that life and growth happen in those sneezes, and by extension in those hiccups, messes, foolishness, and failure. Death was not only certain – it had arrived, and already done its damage! Yet somehow, through enough involuntary snotting and convulsions, the miracle returns. Life is back, and requesting a tissue.

May your world bring you effective sneezes.

Tag: Sneeze7x

Of Hockey Bias And Edu-Paradigms

Sneeze Seven Times