Turning our sacred children into consumers
My beloved 13-yar-old son Remy has just gone home on the train to Sydney after spending part of his school holidays with Dad at Sandy Beach.
As always, he has kept me on my toes with a welcome and endless procession of questions about things he never hears in Sydney. He hears why Iraqis aren't our enemies, why it is that television only shows us competitive sports instead of co-operative sports, and why children are taught in schools to honour politicians, nations and flags.
Wide-eyed as a traveller seeing an exotic country for the first time, my son listens to why it is that governments and local councils plant millions of ornamental trees instead of ornamental fruit and nut trees. Why it is that families and neighbours used to play music together in each other's homes but now buy CDs and DVDs. Why small blocks of land cost hundreds of thousands of dollars while millions of hectares owned by banks and corporations sit idle.
I show him how offices are designed for surveillance of staff and customers, and I share with him why on this block the home owners and renters have had to buy 100 washing machines instead of one or two large ones at a fraction of the cost. He listens as I explain that if the authorities could find a way to charge us for sunshine we would have had solar power 30 years ago and no climate change today.
As any parent does, I ask what he's been studying at school since I last saw him. I ask about what he's doing in English ("mainly just videos" -- it is not his fault he's never heard of Charles Dickens, Ralph Waldo Emerson or Gore Vidal) and Maths and Science. I ask what he's doing in Geography.
"We've been doing Africa."
"What countries?"
"The Congo, Kenya ... Zimbabwe."
Aha! Then my son will be learning about how the diamond trade fuels armed conflict in Africa, the millions recently killed in the Congo Wars, the Kenyan starvation crisis and the massacres, the incredible and mysterious ancient civilisation of Great Zimbabwe, and of course the devastating slum clearances in Zimbabwe and dozens of other poor countries.
No, his teacher hasn't mentioned any of these. He has never heard of imperialism, colonialism or neo-colonialism.
"What, then?"
"Tourism."
I am reminded of the words of no less a radical authority than Jesus Christ: "And whoever offends against one of these little ones … it would be better for him to have a millstone hung around his neck and for him to be cast into the sea."
As always, he has kept me on my toes with a welcome and endless procession of questions about things he never hears in Sydney. He hears why Iraqis aren't our enemies, why it is that television only shows us competitive sports instead of co-operative sports, and why children are taught in schools to honour politicians, nations and flags.
Wide-eyed as a traveller seeing an exotic country for the first time, my son listens to why it is that governments and local councils plant millions of ornamental trees instead of ornamental fruit and nut trees. Why it is that families and neighbours used to play music together in each other's homes but now buy CDs and DVDs. Why small blocks of land cost hundreds of thousands of dollars while millions of hectares owned by banks and corporations sit idle.
I show him how offices are designed for surveillance of staff and customers, and I share with him why on this block the home owners and renters have had to buy 100 washing machines instead of one or two large ones at a fraction of the cost. He listens as I explain that if the authorities could find a way to charge us for sunshine we would have had solar power 30 years ago and no climate change today.
As any parent does, I ask what he's been studying at school since I last saw him. I ask about what he's doing in English ("mainly just videos" -- it is not his fault he's never heard of Charles Dickens, Ralph Waldo Emerson or Gore Vidal) and Maths and Science. I ask what he's doing in Geography.
"We've been doing Africa."
"What countries?"
"The Congo, Kenya ... Zimbabwe."
Aha! Then my son will be learning about how the diamond trade fuels armed conflict in Africa, the millions recently killed in the Congo Wars, the Kenyan starvation crisis and the massacres, the incredible and mysterious ancient civilisation of Great Zimbabwe, and of course the devastating slum clearances in Zimbabwe and dozens of other poor countries.
No, his teacher hasn't mentioned any of these. He has never heard of imperialism, colonialism or neo-colonialism.
"What, then?"
"Tourism."
I am reminded of the words of no less a radical authority than Jesus Christ: "And whoever offends against one of these little ones … it would be better for him to have a millstone hung around his neck and for him to be cast into the sea."
Pip Wilson posted item above at 1:42 PM | Permalink
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