Thinking about the future again (finally!)

This is a VERY rough draft, in that I haven't gotten very far into my gaia theory book, in that I haven't even proofread this, and in that I don't have a graduate program in mind to submit it to yet. Obviously it needs work, and I have a buttload of research to do. But my passion is there and my mind is clear: I'm ready to apply to school again.

(Please don't laugh!)




This is the story of my growing interest in the ethics and philosophy of science, specifically in the plausibility and implications of the gaia, or living earth, theory of life. It’s hard to understand a person’s motives without hearing a complete story so please bear with this tale, as it starts from the beginning.

Once upon a time I was a freshman student at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. I worked hard, got stressed out, and didn’t do a very good job of retaining core requirement information, such as Multivariable calculus, Electricity and Magnetism, and Chemistry. What I did a very good job of was passing tests, memorizing formulas, singing, acting, and cooking for my college collective housing experiment. Over the course of my MIT education I became involved in psychology research, which I was reasonably good at, and also bored by. It felt like there was a lot of following predictable research paths, little questioning of purpose by all except those at the top of the research hierarchy, too much research into what I thought were obvious or trivial questions, and a general lack of enthusiasm. My fellow students were tired or obsessed with medical school requirements. We started off with so much idealism and lost it bit by bit. There were definitely pockets of joy scattered about, such as Organic Chemistry with __ Kemp, one of the most challenging and yet most playful classes I’ve ever taken; and Neurochemistry and Neuropharmacology with Richard Weinman, whose zeal for drug/brain interactions and unusual teaching methods were exhilarating. But overall the atmosphere was alternatively stressful and dull.

As graduation approached, I decided not to apply for graduate school. So many people were applying for the wrong reasons. I didn’t want to make that kind of intellectual and monetary commitment until I found my idealism again. Maybe I didn’t need to save the whole world, but there had to be something important and deeply true to my work. So I went to Japan, a place so foreign that perhaps with all the routines, customs, attachments stripped away, a new revitalized me would surface. But as my fellow English teacher over there said, “You can’t escape yourself by moving to another country.” I did however get to experience the other side of the teacher-student relationship. It saddened me to see some students falling asleep with their eyes open in class, and excited me when I got to experiment with more freeform conversational teaching methods, opportunities that were rare indeed within the standardized teaching method employed by the largest private English school in the country, but that woke up the most timid or uninterested students from time to time.

After Japan I moved to San Francisco and worked for 2 years in customer service and office administration positions. I had decided the academic world was not for me and that what truly mattered were the people you interacted with on a daily basis and the little things (Of course I came to this conclusion after failing to obtain a neurobiology or cognitive science position, a failure I now attribute to a lack of fire and interest). San Francisco opened up my eyes to alternative ways of living and interacting with our planet in a more sustainable way. I rediscovered my internal artist, something that had been set to the side during the years I was set on finding a practical and profitable career, joined the vibrant and idealistic Burningman community, and started researching permaculture. My job as a Project Coordinator for a general contracting construction company was great at first because of its small family feel, something my teaching job in Japan lacked. Unfortunately administrative work is generally repetitive and lacking in creativity, so I welcomed the chance this year to move to New Zealand and get my hands dirty, literally, as a volunteer organic farm volunteer, learning about the realities of farming and building housing sustainably. A group of us recently founded a film-making club, to experience all the roles producing a short film entails. I did a little bit of casual film making while in San Francisco, but being in an organized group (of mostly Weta digital effects artists) gives me access to more equipment, actors, technological skills, and ideas than before. Since I don’t work a full time job at the moment I’ve also had plenty of time for reading. Two books were of particular interest: , by Charles Eisenstein, and , by . If Charles Eisenstein were still teaching at Penn State I would be applying there right now, because his writings embody everything I’ve been thinking about since my interest in science began. He writes about a new way of living joyfully and playfully, of teaching and learning because it’s fun to do these things, not because you have to. Of eating what you need by listening more carefully to your body, not by imposing strict and unnatural, doomed-for-failure diets. And most importantly, of interacting with this planet the way you would interact with yourself, because it is as much a part of you as you are of it.

I love thinking about long-term implications of our present day activities, even when it paints a rather dismal picture for the environment. Unlike many environmentalists though, I have the very positive opinion that any future upheavals required to overcome current environmental problems will be good for us, that humans are adaptive and ingenious creatures with potentials that are hard to imagine today, in this world we’ve created where few work and study with joy. I would greatly appreciate the opportunity to join a scientific community where people openly discuss this and other broad topics relating to where we are going, what duties scientists have to the world, and how to spread what we as educated individuals have learned to our communities. The possibilities are too long to list in this essay, and I’ll leave my ideas for spreading alternative scientific philosophies through music and film for another time. If you are interested in talking to me about this, exactly what your program entails, practicalities I have not thought of, or anything else, I would welcome the chance to speak to you! Thank you for taking the time to read this. I may not be the most qualified individual, but hopefully I have communicated my great enthusiasm and openmindedness for your program.