May 4, 2019

The days swirl away like petals on a flooded river. Needed to write today because it is the Anniversary. I swore I would never forget, and I have not.

All exams given and graded. Will wait till the last minute to record the grades, to keep quarreling at a minimum. Elliott did not take his exam. One shrugs. One realizes the slenderness of the issue.

Already looking back at UNCA as a house aflame from which I escaped just in time. For a while our watchword was “critical thinking,” as it should have been. One almost never hears those words now. Critical thinking has been replaced by allegiance to dogma, though no one will come out, just yet, and say it.  “Critical thinking” is in fact a little frowned upon, for it might put some of the favored under judgment. I FaceBooked the following:

To me, the Academy is that place where an argument based on logic, discussion, and evidence is never trumped or replaced by one based on emotion. The Academy is the place where every dogma, however attractive or au courant, is subject to constant criticism and re-evaluation. The Academy is the place where misapprehensions are discussed and corrected, and not treated as holy. The Academy is where no authority is greater than that of rational discussion. This is not to say that emotion may not triumph over rationality, that a dogma or a misapprehension may not be cherished somewhere else. Not at the University. I myself am several kinds of fanatic, but I believe I am careful to leave my fanaticism, my emotional reasoning, where they can have full play. Not at the Academy.

Many in agreement, but I am amazed by the vehemence of those not in agreement, who say, in so many words, that some have suffered so much that they should not be subject to actuality, should not be expected to speak the truth, should have their delusions not only protected but forced upon others. I do not even exaggerate. I’m not built to accept or even understand this. I do not think of it as kindness. Charity has always been to me helping others, or being helped myself, to see the truth. What these people advocate is enforced infantilzation. I don’t even know that they would deny it. Who am I, after all, to force the injured to face the truth? My response: “a teacher.” The truth is balm for all injuries. So say I, though my voice is not heard.

I realized I was defeated when my own Dean said, “It’s not about truth, it’s about perception.” One closes the books and says, “OK, see you later.”

My rabbit is bigger this year. Love to see him extended at ease in the shade of the maple. I love how he freezes in place, thinking I can’t see him.

Peonies in glorious profusion. Gentle rain.