that starfish story

It always bugged me. Here's a great analysis:

by Keith Morton
One of the most popular stories in community service events is that of the starfish: a (fill in your description, usually young) person is running, hurling starfish deposited on the beach by a storm back into the sea. “What are you doing,” asks a (fill in your description, usually old) person, “you can’t possibly throw all the starfish back. Your effort makes no difference.” “It makes a difference to this one,” replies the first person, who continues off down the beach.

The usual conclusions drawn from this hackneyed tale are about the importance of making a difference where you can, one person or problem at a time; about not being put off by skepticism or criticism or cynicism. The story acknowledges the relief that comes when we find a way to relieve suffering. A somewhat deeper reading is that there is merit in jumping into a situation and finding a way to act - the first step in determining what possibilities for action might exist.

But the tale is, ultimately, mis-educative and I wish people would stop using it. First, it is about a problem - starfish cast up by a storm - that is apolitical (unless you stretch for the connection between pollution and el Nino that might have precipitated the storm). There is seldom any hesitancy or moral complexity in responding to a crisis caused by natural disaster. It is the one circumstance in which charity can be an unmitigated good. The story suggests that all problems are similarly simple - that there is a path of action which is right and can avoid the traps of politics, context, or complex and contradictory human relationships.

Second, the story is about helping starfish and not about helping people. It avoids, therefore, the shadow side of the service, the sticky problem of who deserves our help. The starfish are passive; they have no voice; they cannot have an opinion about their circumstances, at least not that we can hear. This one is much like that one. Their silence coincides with the fact that they can have done nothing (the story suggests) to deserve their fate. In most of the situations where this story is told, service is about people working with people: people with histories, voices, opinions, judgment, more or less power.

Third, the story avoids the possible complexity of ecology: it might be that the starfish are part of a food chain that is being interrupted as they are thrown back - birds might go hungry at a critical time of year, for example; or it might be that the starfish have been released by a storm from the ocean bottom because they have outgrown their habitat. It is never smart to intervene in an ecosystem without understanding how all of its parts are interrelated.

Fourth, the tale suggests that we should work from emotional response and not our heads, even though the problem is, in this case, a knowable one. As “overwhelming” as the miles of beach seem, the dilemma of the starfish is finite and knowable - this many starfish on this stretch of beach; a bit of advance organizing could result in enough volunteers to return all the starfish to the sea.

Fifth, the story privileges random, individual acts of kindness. It avoids questions of community (and we claim “community service” as our ground after all). It avoids questions of working with others. It polarizes the relationship of the two actors: how different would the story be if the second person joined in with the first? In short, the story does nothing to teach us about community or service. This in itself is not necessarily a problem; it could be an entertaining tale, and that could be enough. What makes it a problem, however, is that the tale of the starfish pretends to teach us something about community service, even as it misdirects our sympathies, our intellects and our sense of purpose.

Don’t go charging out to help. Talk, listen, build relationships, know your self, your environment; work with others where they and the situation itself can teach you how to act with more and more knowledge and effectiveness. Stop hurling starfish.

day 8

Today was my first day without a nasty headache, and I was in a good mood all day. Yay, decaffeinating.

My chocolate cravings are stronger than ever, though. Ugh.

And I have to face the Ultimate Dilemma: when I go out camping this weekend and we have smores - do I have one?

I mean, it's not like I gave up C&C for Jesus or anything - this is all about my health. And that in mind, one won't hurt me. Am I cheater then? Who cares - it's my rules I'm cheating on. I just hope I'm not like Avery, making up new rules as I go along.

I think it'll be a fun trip. The trip leader was way nervous - this is clearly his first time doing such a thing. The group seemed nice. We're leaving earlier and getting back later than I anticipated, and my weekend is now completely destroyed, but that's ok - it gets me motivated to get everything done RIGHT NOW.

thinking like a lawyer

I just thought, "It's ok to racially profile as long as there are other articulable suspicions."

Why did I think that? Because that's what my "clients" did and I'm arguing their case.

And I am now officially on that very, very slippery slope.

Nice having known y'all. Now that I am apparently merely flesh inhabited by Satan, I may not recognize you anymore.

Chinese doctor

I did go to a Chinese doctor - Lara's, in fact.

I was on their treatments for a month and they made me feel way worse in all ways, so I stopped.

And he told me that for both my thyroid and fibroids, they can't treat me for that - that I need Western treatment and they could help with recovery. Which is not much help for where I am now.

Grand Isle, baby

Grand Isle, Louisiana. Ring a bell?

In April there's a migratory bird festival which I'll be damned if I'm going to miss.

But what's its claim to fame? Anybody?

The Awakening by Kate Chopin - it's there! Cool, huh? I could live Southern Literature. No, there will be no drowning ... though I do have to cross more treacherous evil bridges to get there. Hate bridges. The only thing I really hate about Louisiana.

Oh, and tomorrow, speaking of cool, I'm going to skip class to hear Colin Powell.

Dammit, I need to get to sleep.

balance

I go to class. Then I go to another class. Then I go to a computer training for school.

But then it gets interesting. I go to French class just for fun (it's way too easy, but it's good too to relearn this stuff that I learned 25 years ago and don't remember quite right and use slightly wrong).

And then I go to a native plants talk. It was way interesting, and I was surprised to see SO many people there (well over 100). It was organized by local Audubon society, given by a retired prof from the boondocks of Louisiana.

I love this place. People are so real here, and now I see that they have the interests I have, too. Native Plants Society? Birdwatching? I'm all over that like the cheap suit I have to wear Friday.

But each time that I went to do something not law school, I could see my classmates look at me like I'm crazy. They're up there studying 7 days a week, 12 hours a day. And I'm lucky to put in a couple hours a day of study time a couple days a week. Seriously, I am SUCH a slacker it's scary.

And I don't know why exactly. Is it that I have too many other interests that take my attention because I seek balance? Is it that I don't have the stamina to stay focused on the task at hand? Is it that it's not that interesting? Is it that I have a bad attitude since I got a couple B's?

I don't know. And I don't know if I can pull it together for the next 8 weeks and study hardcore. I don't think I even know how to do it. Like now - I just talked on the phone to Susan who mailed me warm gear for my weekend camping trip and now I'm blogging and then I'm going to go to bed because I'm tired.

The A students are still in the library, still going strong.

Chris Classmate says, "You'll live a long time." I just don't feel the stress they do. Sure, I'd love to be in the top 5% and get out of law school with a job that pays $160,000. But I don't want the life that accompanies it - not now and not then. Then I'll have interests still, and I'll be even more protective of my time because I won't have the flexibility to do things during the workday except work. Boring. And I'll have a family to deal with. When it gets to 4:00, I'll want to be helping them with homework and starting dinner, not litigating.

And there are jobs like that, where I can balance my interests. They just don't pay anywhere near 160K.

So, I may be in debt a whole lot longer than I'd like to be, but that doesn't stress me out either. Nothing does. I can't feel the panic that I need to be a stellar student.

I just want to have a good time, relax, take it easy.

And for ME to say that - it's like Invasion of the Body Snatchers, NOLA style.

OH, and I went to the computer training and she'd ordered pizza - and they were all pepperoni. Excuse me? Vegetarians can pick off the meat, but at least a couple of my classmates are Muslim. So I just emailed the trainer that. What was she thinking?

And what I've realized is that pizza really does make me hungry more - it doesn't satisfy me unless I eat like four pieces. So, that's a food I need to put on the "off" list. It just tastes so damn good. But I don't like that sensation of being hungry still/again.

Best news of the day: my REI dividend came to Michele's house. Woo!

Gear? I can get WAY more excited about that than any stinkin suit or case.

what I will NOT do

Re: Mr. Tiff's comment to last post -

I will NOT do this during my Friday & Monday interviews! I can solemnly swear!

thyroidville

My heartrate has accelerated out of normal range - resting it's usually 90-100 now. "Normal" is about 70 - and mine has always been lower than that (I am a marathon walker after all). It never gets below mid-80's, and I check it compulsively (right now it's 94). it's also not always regular. And my chest hurts.

And otherwise, I feel generally out of sorts. Now I can really tell that my body isn't doing well. I was ready to call the doctor and see if I could get either radio-iodine or surgery over spring break.

But then I start doing more research.

First of all, I am *not* the only overweight, hyperthyroid person. In fact, it's not uncommon. Nobody knows for sure exactly why, but "experts" think what I think - that the thyroid hyperactivity increases hunger dramatically. In me it does. Sometimes I eat fast food, enchiladas, chocolate cake - high fat, high calorie foods - because it's the only thing that makes me not hungry. I get so hungry that I can't function, and nothing "healthy" takes the edge off it. The only way I can eat "healthy" is to eat constantly. And all this while my metabolism is significantly lower? ARGH! Losing weight is a losing battle - and for me it really doesn't matter much if I'm exercising 10 hours a week or not.

And more on that - people who get treated for hyperthyroidism gain weight - most of them at least 8 pounds a year for the indefinite future. Most at risk? People who were overweight before treatment. The doctors told me that I wouldn't gain weight; in fact, things would even out better. That's just not true from what I read - and it doesn't make any sense.

AND - there's no guarantee that I'll feel better after the treatment. All sorts of people never get quite "right" - and once you've killed your thyroid, it's gone.

I have no idea what to do, and it's very frustrating.

So I can kill my thyroid and balloon up to 300 pounds and face all those obesity problems. Or I can try to ignore my heart pounding in my chest so loud it distracts me just like I ignore all the work I need to do. I just wish I could ignore hunger like that.

Maybe I'll email her and ask her if I can get a prescription for beta blockers - maybe that will help. I just don't want my heart to explode - that would be quite bad for my future.

the country?!

I ran into Right-Wing Radical Boy today (the one who says Joseph McCarthy was an American Patriot and Hero) and asked about his summer. He accepted an offer at the SEC. He asked about my plans. This is a regularly recurring conversation where I shrug and sheepishly say, "I haven't thought about it yet."

But I have, so I said, "I sent an application to Liberia yesterday."

Now, RWRB once said, "Ah, Africa. The worst thing we ever did there was end colonization - it would be in their best interests to be colonies again." And he got more than an earful, and he knows where I stand, and he knows about Dayton. He and I get along wonderfully because we agree to disagree. I will never vote for him for political office, and he knows it.

So, he just nodded. The guy beside him, a former priest, however exclaimed, "Liberia!? The country?!"

"Yeah. They have a Truth and Reconciliation Forum started there ..." A little info.

"Charles Taylor got a bad rap," the guy said.

Excuse me?

Sigh.

Now, I'm not saying the entire world needs to rush to Liberia. If they did, there wouldn't be enough greens for me. But why do people always respond like that? And even when I said I was going to Senegal, the response was typically, "Why?!"

Why are westerners so simultaneously ignorant about and uninterested in Africa? Why don't they realize that the actions of our governments and corporations lead to so many problems - that we are responsible for things throughout the world, and if we put our heads in the sand we allow people to continue to do bad things.

for a good laugh ...

Here I am. Hm ... I do like skirts that length in theory (and it was near the jacket), but I realize that last week when my writing instructor wore it I thought it looked frumpy. Even more so for me.

What the hell do I care? I got my damn black suit. They can sniff "Less than $100!" all they want - I DO NOT CARE.