One reason I have been rather quiet on the blogging front lately is that I have felt completely paralyzed with interia. Or what feels like inertia (mental inertia peppered with frantic working as if you know what you are doing). This paralysis stems from having way too fucking much to do and not quite knowing where to start (oh, that's only me, right?) and specifically the fact that somehow I have become one of the lead
(Oh, my degree is in English folks, and though I fancy myself more a Cultural Studies than a Literature type who can spout Foucault and other theorists that deconstruct the epistemological basis of THIS, and the ontological standpoint of THAT, blah blah blah, the stuff I am reading right now, well it's making my head spin. Where are Foucault and Derrida and Butler to help me now? Nowhere, mates. This stuff covers neuroimaging, and brain patterns, and cognitive flexibility theory, and uses real, honest-to-goodness human subjects. Not books! Research is expected to yield tangible and empirically verifiable results!!!
Can someone start bailing out the water, because I think I am sinking. Oh, and if there is a Complete Idiots Guide to Faking it as a Ph.D. in Social Sciences, can someone send me the reference? Subliminal audio material would also be a bonus here. Oop. Hang on, that type of learning would be "passive encoding" and not "active encoding" of knowledge. See, I am learning. Maybe all those bullshit teaching philosophies I had to develop in grad school ("I approach the classroom from a constructivist perpsective, with an pedagogy that privileges student-centered leeeeearning..." Blink.) well maybe they weren't so bullshit after all. Maybe one person's constructivism and student-centered leeeeearning is another's Cognitive Flexibility Theory.
***cue belabored panting sound*** (Yeeees. That's right, Joy. Now back awaaay from the ledge. Easy does it.)
ANYWAY. Let me pull away from this spewing forth of insecurities for a moment, and bring you to the main point of this post. Me= Highly Educated Woman (if convincing faker at times) and so for the following interchanges between myself and three-year old preschooler, I should be ashamed (and remember, I am gestating right now, and this is what has prompted this onslaught of questioning):
Boyo: Where do cars come from?
Me: Uhm, factories. Like in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
Boyo: OK, so where do bikes come from?
Me: Err. Factories
Boyo: Where do doggies come from?
Me: Ah! From their mummies's tummies [familiar theme, you see]
Boyo: Where do worms come from?
Me: pause... "Hm. From their mummies tummies?.. ????"
Boyo: Where do snails come from?
Me: Uh. From their mummies' tummies? Uh. Eggs?
So there you have it.
A) By telling my son that everything manufactured is magically spewed forth by "factories," and thereby deftly eliding the relationship of local auto-workers and bike-makers to their products,
I have initiated my son's true passage into capitalist society and his own eventual alienation from the mode of production.
B) I really had no fucking clue how worms OR snails reproduced, and actually had to google it at the first opportunity. And no, I am not telling you. Look it up yourself. Oh.... Like you KNOW.
Someone bring in Child Protective Services and get me arrested! And strip me of my educashunal daplomas...