Skip to main content

Idea Laundering

Recently, I spoke to a young lady with an impressive resume for someone in her first year of college. The college she attends is plenty fancy too needless to say. A match made in heaven you would imagine. Yet, this kid is a tortured soul. She has a lot of drive and lot of skills that she has taught herself throughout her high-school years. The parents are a very bright and driven couple so this is no surprise. She arrived in college to get educated - nothing wrong with such expectation.

The only problem is that her college is all about image and projection. They are providing her an imaginary education in subjects that make no sense. And then there is this notion of inter-disciplinary studies that will presumably get unknown billions of neurons in her brain firing off all to serve the greater good of humanity. The problem is, without foundation in core disciplines not even the bare minimum neurons are firing effectively. That leads to the lost kid syndrome that ails so many students in America.

So this kid is earnestly is shuffling through these made-up courses trying to anchor on something solid and real that will prepare her for the world outside. But there is no such thing. Her heart is in the right place - she wants to do good in the world, work with companies that care about communities in which they operate. 

So our conversation turned to lessons I have learned in real life over the years and what she may do this summer to get her more ready for it. We spoke for less than thirty minutes that evening but I sensed that I had offered my young friend some measure of relief. She was able to see a tenuous path out of the wilderness of her elite, politically correct, liberal arts education to tangible things. 

My conversation with her definitely brought to mind the recent WSJ article on "idea-laundering" in academia and how it is leaving students stuffed to the gills with fake knowledge. 


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Cheese Making

I never fail to remind J that there is a time and place for everything. It is possibly the line she will remember me by when I am dead and gone given how frequently she hears it. Instead of having her breakfast she will break into a song and dance number from High School Musical well past eight on Monday morning. She will insist that I watch and applaud the performance instead of screaming at her to finish her milk and cereal. Her sense of occasion is seriously lacking but then so is mine. Consider for example, a person walks into the grocery store with the express purpose of buying detergent because they are fresh out of it and laundry is only half way done. However instead of heading straight for detergent, they wander over to the natural foods aisle and go berserk upon finding goat milk on sale for a dollar a gallon. They at once proceed to stock pile so they can turn it to huge quantities home-made feta cheese. That person would be me. It would not concern me in the least that I ha...

Part Liberated Woman

An expat desi friend and I were discussing what it means to return to India when you have cobbled together a life in a foreign country no matter how flawed and imperfect. We have both spent over a decade outside India and have kids who were born abroad and have spent very little time back home. Returning "home" is something a lot of new immigrants like L and myself think about. We want very much for that to be an option because a full assimilation into our country of domicile is likely never going to happen. L has visited India more often than I have and has a much better pulse on what's going on there. For me the strongest drag force working against my desire to return home is my experience of life as a woman in India. I neither want to live that suffocatingly sheltered existence myself nor subject J to it. The freedom, independence and safety I have had in here in suburban America was not even something I knew I could expect to have in India. I never knew what it felt t...

Under Advisement

Recently a desi dude who is more acquaintance less friend called to check in on me. Those who have read this blog before might know that such calls tend to make me anxious. Depending on how far back we go, there are sets of FAQs that I brace myself to answer. The trick is to be sufficiently evasive without being downright offensive - a fine balancing act given the provocative nature of questions involved. I look at these calls as opportunities for building patience and tolerance both of which I seriously lack. Basically, they are very desirous of finding out how I am doing in my personal and professional life to be sure that they have me correctly categorized and filed for future reference. The major buckets appear to be loser, struggling, average, arrived, superstar and uncategorizable. My goal needless to say, is to be in the last bucket - the unknown, unquantifiable and therefore uninteresting entity. Their aim is to pull me into something more tangible. So anyways, the dude in ques...