Essential Questions
In education, the sort of question you’ll find below is often called essential. The Greeks called these discussions dialectics. In brief, they are the reason we read and think and write: to answer questions that matter. Or, at least, to start to answer them. I don’t think any of us ever find the truth Socrates sought.
But you have something like a foundation now. You know what is expected in a learning environment like this one1. So you can take a few days to work on a set of questions that relate to the reading for this quarter:
- To what extent can any of us trust our senses?
- To what extent can any of us trust our memories?
- How do ignorance, knowledge, and happiness interact for us2?
- To what extent and in what ways does power corrupt?
- In what ways are any of us ever alone?
- To what extent are people self-destructive?
- At what point and for what reasons should a group stop an individual from doing whatever he or she wants?
Define terms, seek examples, and, above all, talk to each other. Ask clarifying questions below in the comments. Use Google+ to anchor your in-class conversations and to continue conversations that require more thoughtfulness and precision. Share your observations and insights as often and widely as you can.
We will also add to these questions as we continue, shifting the language and focus as necessary. As you read and write, new questions will occur to you. This is Piet Hein’s idea: “Art is solving problems that cannot be formulated before they have been solved. The shaping of the question is part of the answer.”
One more thing: While I will guide you through activities and lessons built around those four novels, they are not required. Strongly encouraged, yes, but not required. Nor will we drive our learning through prescribed readings. There are hundreds of other texts that tackle the same subjects, that lend themselves to the same discussions, and while these have many advantages, we must remember the lessons of Paul Graham and John Holt.
The point is that we’ll take all quarter for this, and that means you should read because the readings are interesting and edifying, not because some teacher told you to do it. Keep your eyes out for other texts, too; taking that sort of initiative can only help you in here. I’m thinking of introducing “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge,” for instance, because of its powerful connection to these ideas, and there are several short stories and poems that we could read together3.
Throughout all of this, work in writing as often as possible. Sketch out ideas, take notes, write metacognitive responses — whatever it takes to generate understanding and GAP evidence, since those are one and the same in this course. Look to Google Classroom for formal assignments, as always, and advocate for yourself when you feel lost.
Here are the readings again, as reminder and encouragement:
- 1984 by George Orwell
- The Invisible Man by H.G. Wells
- The Time Machine by H.G. Wells
- The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson
Which is an atelier model, by the way — a specific kind of makerspace that centralizes creativity and expertise through the ripple effect of teaching others. We’ll talk more about it later this week. ↩
I don’t like the phrasing of this, but I want to avoid the cliché: Would you want to be ignorant and happy, or have knowledge and be miserable? It’s not a binary consideration like that. The idea is to consider what you know, how you know it, and whether you’d prefer not to know it. We’ll talk more in class. ↩
I love “Funes, the Memorious,” if you want a beautifully strange story about memory. ↩