Unlearning: The Road
Dean Boyer leads us down the road of unlearning this month. Sometimes we must dismount our coach and remove a fallen tree or hack down the tall grass as it fights to take back the road. Clearly, our road yearns for wear.
Picture a view of the world's roads from outer space. Now picture a neon light moving one-hundred miles an hour down all of the roads, crisscrossing the planet. Now picture your own life melding with the neon lights. Your life blurs. Confusion sets in. You are moving so fast that you can't get off of the road. So you take another one. But this one dead ends. Now, you have forgotten how you got there. You need to get somewhere, but you don't know where that is. You don't know how to get there.
There isn't one critical statement that I can make about any essay written this month on unlearning. I get, understand and embrace each one's basic premise...except for the unlearning part. For twelve days I've been saying to myself, "David, it's just a difference in semantics." But when I nod back to myself in acknowledgment, the little guy inside keeps poking me in the ribs. "You know that isn't true David." And maybe I do.
In order to delineate, I must borrow a line from my personal manifesto, which was written for me by Robert Frost:
Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back
I can't go back. There isn't one molecule in my body that even thinks about it. I am wired to move forward. For me, unlearning means to undo, undo learning that perhaps isn't conducive to personal growth. But I can't undo me. I am me because my way led me to where and who I am.
What I can do however, is to turn down the brightness button on the neon lights. I can exit the freeway. I can focus on the things that are important. I can travel the road that will allow me to appreciate my family, to devalue material things, to appreciate flowers and children and big oak trees and fried chicken and older people and a community of folks who are passionate about learning.
Much to the little guy's dismay, this really might be about semantics. I think it's just the word. It is so alien to me, so nails driving south on the blackboard to me.
I do believe if we travel this road, no matter what each of us calls it, we'll look back one day and realize that it did make all the difference.
~ Dave Rothacker


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