by Ray Jason
 |
| PACIFIC SWIFT |
My sojourn at Isla Gitana was both tranquil
and rambunctious, with great new friendships and rollicking adventures. But the highlight was surely the day that an
actual Tall Ship anchored beside AVENTURA.
She was the PACIFIC SWIFT out of Vancouver - a sail training vessel full
of bright, inquisitive teenagers out to see the world and gather some life
lessons.
When the kids would go ashore they
would pile into their two longboats and row gracefully and powerfully to a
nearby dock. On Christmas Eve there were
about 10 boats in the anchorage, and when nightfall descended, the longboats
visited every one of the yachts. Each of
the teens had a songbook and a long, thin candle with a little collar to
protect their hands from the dripping wax.
They serenaded each sailboat crew with a lovely, heartfelt Christmas carol. When they arrived at AVENTURA they chose “O
Holy Night.” As they drifted away to go
sing for the next boat, I realized how truly “holy” that night was. What could be more sacred than this little
unspoiled bay - which was my idea of a real
cathedral - made even more sublime by this touching display of human affection?
A few days later as they sailed
away, I blew my conch shell in salute and the kids all waved and smiled enthusiastically. I had grown so fond of them in their time
there, that as their ship rounded the headland on her way back out into the
Pacific, an unusual idea occurred to me.
What if their onboard teacher had gotten sick, and the Captain had asked
me to substitute as their instructor for a few days? The skipper and I had shared a few beers
ashore during their visit, and he had been intrigued by my contrary-to-ordinary
philosophical approach to life. And what
if he had encouraged me to “not hold back” when it came to sharing my unconventional
worldview? And so to fend off the
melancholy of the PACIFIC SWIFT’S departure, I spent most of that day pondering
what my first lecture to the young student/sailors might have included. It went something like this:
Good morning, everyone. Most of you already know me, but for those of
you who don’t, my name is Ray. Your
Captain has gifted me with this extraordinary opportunity to be your guest
instructor for a few days while your regular teacher recovers from his
illness. I am particularly delighted by your
skipper’s trust in me, because I am not a credentialed teacher – I am a
thoughtful wanderer.
I am going to begin by playing three minutes of
classical music for you. It is a
movement from Rachmaninoff’s famous piano concerto called “Rhapsody on a Theme
by Paganini.” Now that you have heard
it, let me explain why I started with it.
My belief is that the purpose of human life is to not just “exist” but
to “flourish.” And I believe that the haunting
crescendos of that music are a sublime example of how the human spirit can in
fact SOAR – and that our species is indeed capable of majesty and beauty.
Just as Rachmaninoff elaborated on some themes of the
great violinist Paganini, I wish to discuss some themes inspired by one of history’s
virtuoso philosophers – Socrates. In
particular, for our lesson today I have chosen this enduring aphorism from the
Greek master – “The unconsidered Life is not worth living.” And so the title for this introductory
lecture is “Rhapsody on a theme by Socrates.”
First of all, I recognize that as student/sailors
aboard a “semester-at-sea” tall ship, you are receiving a far more
unconventional education than those back in the normal school systems. And I applaud your program in this
regard. However, my desire during my few
days as your substitute instructor is to deeply challenge many of your most cherished
beliefs. The reason that I wish to do so
is because education has detoured from its core mission – which is to train
people in how to be critical thinkers.
Teachers have become too complacent when it comes to
challenging society’s accepted wisdom. Largely,
this is because genuinely radical instructors, who inspire their students to
carefully examine a culture’s myths and values, are a severe threat to the
powers that benefit from the status quo.
Therefore, such mentors are often ostracized. This leads to a world full of timid teachers
who do not exalt you to consider life deeply as Socrates urged his students to
do.
For example, how often has a teacher presented you
with an alternative interpretation of the Christopher Columbus mythology? Since we are all here on a magnificent
sailing ship, this is an excellent starting point for my attempt to stimulate
your critical thinking.
Columbus is an exceedingly important historical
figure. Here are two pieces of evidence
to prove this assertion. He is one of
only 4 individuals to have a national holiday in the U.S. He joins Washington, Lincoln and Martin
Luther King in this elite category. And
secondly, he is so pivotal, that historical timelines are designated as “Pre or
Post-Columbian.”
His actions were so significant that they essentially carved
the template for over 500 years of white, male dominator behavior in the
Americas. In my estimation he is one of
the most white-washed figures in human history.
Your standard Canadian textbook probably depicts him as Columbus the
Hero. But the indigenous people of any
of the lands that he visited would portray him very differently. In fact, they might be challenged by which despicable
description to apply to him. Should they
choose Columbus the Ruthless or Obscene or Vicious or Hideous or Vile or … all
of the above?
Here is my assessment of Christopher Columbus. He was a
genocidal megalomaniac. Now, looking at your faces, I can detect a
significant level of intellectual discomfort, so let me prove this unsettling
assertion. The sources of my evidence
are as good as they get – primary journal entries from Columbus himself and
from some of the crewman and priests who sailed with him.
Here is the man’s legacy: He bequeathed the New World
two of the worst institutions in human history-the Slave and the
Conquistador. It would take about
350 years for people of conscience to finally rid the world of slavery. And the Conquistador evil is still widespread
on our planet. At this very moment there
are indigenous tribes in the Amazon trying to protect their land and their way
of life from lumber and cattle barons.
And in Ecuador, international oil companies are destroying the habitat
of jungle tribes whose ancestors lived there long before the word petroleum was
even invented.
Genocide is the murder of a large number of people of
one racial or ethnic strain. But
Columbus did not just kill an enormous number; he actually eradicated the Taino
Indians from the face of the earth. When
he first landed in Hispaniola (currently Haiti and the Dominican Republic) it
was estimated that there were around 1.2 million natives there. By 1550 – less than 60 years later – there
was not a single one left. And from almost the moment that his ships
arrived, these gentle Indians suffered an almost incomprehensible reign of
terror.
The vicious power that Columbus and his sailors
possessed was not the result of superior strength or intelligence or
courage. It rested solely on having more
advanced technology in the form of ocean-going ships and deadly weapons. To demonstrate his ruthless omnipotence,
Columbus would punish Indians in the most hideous manner for minor
offenses. He would command that a nose
or ear be chopped off as a reminder to the rest of the population that he ruled
supreme.
His merciless actions became so insufferable, that
mass suicides, where 100 people would jump from a cliff, became
commonplace. Women stopped trying to
have children and would strangle their newborn rather than allow them to live
and endure the agonies of the Spaniards.
And along with the normal slavery of converting people into beasts of
burden, Columbus also initiated sex slavery.
He even bragged in letters back to the Old World that the most favored
girls were only 9 or 10 years old. So,
one can add pedophilia to his crimes against humanity.
As for his megalomania, what title did he insist on
receiving from his royal patrons as payment for the slaves and stolen property
that he brought back to Spain? His humble
request was to be called “Admiral of the Ocean Seas.” Since this essentially includes all of the
world’s oceans, it was comparable to a land-based dictator wishing to be
addressed as the “Emperor of Earth.”
But beyond his atrocities and his arrogance, this is
why I despise Columbus - because as long as we honor him rather than scorn him,
we are reinforcing his code of conduct.
In its most basic rendering it is that domination trumps decency. His modus operandi was to exercise raw power
whenever it suited his desires. If a
native population had something that he wanted and they would not surrender it,
then he would take it from them by force.
This same immoral approach to human affairs dominates
our planet to this day. It is somewhat
more subtle, but nonetheless it is still basically the strong imposing their
will on the weak. We camouflage it
better today with words like democracy or capitalism or free trade or
globalization but at its core it is the “haves” ruling the “have-nots.”
But enough of me ranting here on the foredeck of our
beautiful floating classroom – it is time for some of your input. Please raise your hand if you have a question
or a comment. Wow- now there is an
enthusiastic response that would have delighted Socrates himself. I’ll happily take all of your questions one
by one. But first let me share a little anecdote with you that clarifies my
philosophy about the student/teacher relationship.
A few decades ago there was a wonderful movie house in
San Francisco called the Surf Theater.
As the name suggests, it was located out by the ocean. It specialized in classic and foreign and
unusual films. Back in those
pre-multiplex days, it was common to post three separate prices. Typically for seniors and students it might
be $3 and the regular price would be $5.
But the Surf charged the same $4 for everybody. This non-conformist approach was explained by
a simple sign placed in the window of the ticket booth. It amuses and inspires me as much today as it
did the very first time that I saw it. That little sign packed a lot of wisdom
into four words. It said: “WE ARE ALL
STUDENTS!”