Photograph by Kayla Tong

FULL CIRCLE: INSTALLMENT THREE OF EIGHT

Alienated by Originality

My personal quest to bring critical thinking back to schools.

Important Note: Please dismiss, ignore, and brush aside any automated prompts to ‘follow’ or ‘join’ or ‘create an account’ since these algorithmic directives are the requirements for this platform, NOT my own. As such, my personal essays are hosted on MEDIUM for their website’s elegant design and book-like architecture, which introduces my insightful prose as a literary addendum or the written codex to my theatrical discourses on “The Pedagogy of Moky Huynh.” With that preamble stated, let the inward dialogue commence…

Like materialism, I was somewhat flabbergasted by the fixation of social status by the general public.

I clearly understood that human beings had a natural longing to feel worthwhile. This yearning to feel relevant was a human condition that we all experienced. It could potentially elicit our best and make us exceptionally humane (e.g., Jane Goodall, Nelson Mandela, Howard Zinn, Malala Yousafzai) with respect to our magnanimity toward sentient beings. At the same time, though, this voracious lusting for recognition had a dark side. A notable portion of our populace fell victim to their grave insecurities, a.k.a., inferiority complex. Because of this ailment, they became maniacally possessed over the control of others. Their corpulent egos pined for dominance, hegemony, and despotic power. Extreme cases included tyrants like Adolph Hitler, Joseph Stalin, Mao Zedong, Benito Mussolini, Augusto Pinochet, and Pol Pot. While these individuals were considered fanatics, we still see varying degrees of their obsession with status amongst everyday people, be it at work, in school, or even in our temples, mosques, and churches. Hence, the unquenchable thirst for social status and its fateful repercussions were problematic to our society.

[embed]Act 2, Scene 1: The Moment is Eternal from The Pedagogy of Moky Huynh (412K views)

And yet, I couldn’t blame the individual, at least not entirely. Unless you were an exception to the rule, which is astoundingly rare, the vast majority would much rather conform with the desperate hope for approbation since the pain of rejection was too much to bear, too wretched to endure. The piercing loneliness of relentless exclusion could devour the spirit and destroy a person’s life force. Thus, in order to sidestep this trenchant pain, folks would capitulate to absolute obedience as they’d rather be included for the wrong reasons than to stand on their own for the right reasons. It was a tragic observation. Yet ultimately, it wasn’t their fault. I placed the onus on our lack of education, which had miserably failed to serve our citizenry. For this troubled reason, I took it upon myself — to elevate our culture, albeit the challenges.

Though I had never been heckled by an audience member… a significant handful had walked out abruptly in the midst of my performances on stage. For various reasons, they took offense to the polemical nature of my speeches, which focused a great deal on materialism and social status. But the primary issue that rankled their conscience was the concept of originality. They didn’t have it, even though they craved it. It eluded them despite their delusions of grandeur. In a world where branding and narcissism was in effect the norm, how could one be viewed as original if she or he was bereft of kindness? Consider this notion for just a moment. In its natural state, bona fide kindness was a cornerstone of one’s unique identity. Unfortunately, it was few and far between, difficult to come by, as the ostensible act of kindness was typically for show, a mere façade. It was devoid of real sincerity. Or to put it bluntly, kindness for many was a scheme or ploy… devised for self-promotion and contrived publicity.

Sadly, empathetic and compassionate people were statistically insignificant in our society because they didn’t rely on trifling and frivolous titles to feel important as they already knew who they were innately. Furthermore, the accumulation of wealth did not define them. It was beside the point in terms of human worth. They could still appreciate the benefits of wealth, but it wasn’t the end-all, be-all as it was for many. Additionally, philanthropic people cared about humanity, which wasn’t limited to their friends and family. In other words, they were sensitive to the struggle of others. They could actually empathize with marginalized groups, whereas the great majority simply didn’t care. They were too absorbed with their superficialities. As such, my social critiques by way of artsy monologues were a danger to them, abrasively scorching their delicate tenets. I had forced them to confront the mirror of their relationships, which greatly embarrassed them. They felt exposed. Humiliated. And terribly unnerved. So unsurprisingly, they responded to this caustic truth by walking out on me. Yet I wasn’t upset. I was certainly disappointed by their premature exit, but I recognized where they were coming from. Their mindset was conditioned by our fatuous society. And thus, they remained parochial and imprisoned by their notorious ignorance.

During my years in the metropolitan wilderness, my oratorical performances had incrementally gained traction despite the mainstream resistance. Upon the conclusion of each show, there was always an audience member who would compliment and encourage my efforts. However, she or he would prudently advise me to direct my performances toward an academic setting (e.g., students and teachers). They believed that the content of my presentation would resonate more profoundly with a specific demographic. And I totally agreed. No matter how much I tried to make it dynamic and scintillating, my so-called show was essentially a lecture, which faltered to meet their expectations. With the exception of a few patrons, the vast majority who attended my performances were expecting entertainment. They wanted to escape and be distracted from their reality. They wanted to zone out for a moment in time and not worry about life. Yet here I was provoking them, challenging their minds to evolve and burgeon, i.e., break outside their comfort zone. This didn’t bode well on a Friday or Saturday night when most people wanted to party. My attempt to educate was like mixing oil with water. The confluence was a disaster of sorts. On the other hand, an academic setting was more in line with my objective. But consequently, the academic sphere was aloof to me, and rightfully so. Despite my explanation, teachers and students alike perceived me as an arrogant pariah when I unveiled to them that I had dropped out of USC just one semester shy of completing my degree. Obviously, they were confused and mystified by my judgment, which made them circumspect of my intention. Their disposition had frustrated me; nonetheless, I respected their opinion, especially when these students were fervently striving to acquire their degrees. This disconnect was quite an obstacle, which impelled me to entertain the curious prospect of going back to school.

I was highly cognizant of the social implications pertaining to the university. It’s what our society fostered and rewarded. But conversely, my attitude toward a college degree was fairly ambivalent, even more so after 18 years in the real world. Contrary to popular belief, academic sheepskins weren’t always necessary. Bill Gates and Steve Jobs had solidified this with their phenomenal achievements. And yes, I was acutely aware of their unusual triumphs, which wasn’t indicative of the vast majority. These two imaginative men were brilliant outliers. They only came around every once in a blue moon. Therefore, duplicating their success was remarkably rare. But all the same, it didn’t change the fact that a college degree was optional. It was truly a choice, predicated on the means of livelihood.

For example, becoming a physician, an attorney, or an engineer required a scholastic path. Yet in contrast, a college degree wasn’t a requisite for an entrepreneur, as evidenced by my aunt’s entrepreneurial husband. He had begun his career as a humble mechanic, then he eventually opened his own business — an auto repair facility. Though he wasn’t as rich as Bill Gates or Steve Jobs, he still accumulated a princely sum of money. The clientele that he had garnered was comprised of returning customers who appreciated the outstanding service that his shop provided. And hence, it stands to reason that an ordinary person as far as talent was concerned could definitely succeed without the coveted degree. Of course, one might dispute that life without college meant prying the doors open in order to be heard, which was absolutely true. It wasn’t fair by any means. In fact, minus the aid of higher education, ordinary folks were forced to create their own opportunities. Otherwise, menial and dead-end jobs were the alternative. The route of a non-graduate was indeed more arduous than the route of a college graduate. In the end, however, a substantive career was based on sheer tenacity and pure enthusiasm. Gumption and sacrifice were instrumental to a significant livelihood, irrespective of one’s academic level, or lack thereof. As such, the college degree, depending on the circumstance, was to a certain extent… ancillary. To argue this point would reveal a petty sense of jealousy from those who deified their academic sheepskins.

And yet, having said all that, my intuition was urging me to go back to school and finish my degree. The reason being: my aim was to educate. And education was forever linked to the university. The role of education, at least for me, was to exercise the precious mind to think autonomously. Real, actual, and truthful education superseded the mere dissemination of knowledge. Yet by and large, schools had indoctrinated their students to accept the path with least resistance, i.e., “Get your degree. Go get your money. And forget about the rest.” Hence: the infamous Great Recession of 2008. This self-absorbed, philistine approach was pernicious to the longevity of a civilization. Truth be told, to study profusely without “critical thinking” was in essence — pretty damn indolent. The seemingly pedantic toil in the esteemed academia was rendered useless if “critical thinking” was conspicuously absent. The evasion of deep analysis had lead our society to a state of attrition with regard to our precious minds, surrendering ourselves to inert and perfunctory lives. This cultural decay had shamelessly promoted… a half-ass education, which yielded a multitude of poseurs and wannabes into our populace. By virtue of this deterioration, my visceral itch to return to school and challenge its status quo by actively engaging in “critical thinking” — wasn’t too far from the horizon.

PREVIOUS ESSAY: *An Alchemist in the Metropolitan Wilderness*

SUBSEQUENT ESSAY: *The 20-Year Echo: Finishing What My Teachers Started*

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