Love is God

If you've ever visited this, my crusty little spot of the internet before, you may have noticed the "Secular Homeschool" button, down and to the left a bit. We, as a family, are part of a network of people who have taken on home education, without belief in a religion, and without use of religious homeschooling materials. This sort of thing is not easy to come by in the world of home education, so participating sometimes feels like slashing a path into the unknown with a big machete, learning and sharing new definitions for old words.

Let's start with the word, "secular." While it's true that I am now living a secular life, as a religionless person, I see the S word as saying nothing in particular about who we are as a family.  For us, "secular" does not mean anti-religion, and it certainly doesn't mean living a life devoid of faith, humility, and love. Truth be told, we have a lot in common with some of the believers in our lives. Don't you just love having things in common? I sure do.

Faith: If you've ever stooped over some cold dirt on a wet early spring morning to plant chard seeds, you know what faith is. If you've ever worked hard to earn money for a big goal, like a tablet or overseas trip, you are acting like that day will come when you will have it. Does this mean an unwavering belief that things will always go as planned? Certainly not. As a matter of fact, it means continuing forth, into the unknown, with a vague notion that you can handle the unpredictable inevitabilities along the way.

So began the big photography project: with a simple choice I made at the Fundación Niños de los Andes, near the end of  last year's stay, here in gorgeous Manizales, Colombia.

That's right, I'm back in la zona tropical!

Last June, a girl living in the Fundación asked to borrow my camera. I thought for a second, remembering that I had been advised not to give or loan the kids anything. I let it go into her small hands: an act of faith, for which I was rewarded with a camera full of special photos. The talent and photographic instincts displayed in the photos taken by the girl inspired me. I thought of this world, full of fancy things nobody uses anymore, and had an idea. After a year of asking my friends online and in real life to give me their unused digital cameras, I boarded a Colombia-bound plane three and a half weeks ago with six cameras, and a very fuzzy idea of what to do with them. I dunno, take them to the foundation? Get permission to loan them to kids? See what happens next?

With the help of a trusty friend here in Colombia, I spent about thirty hours with the kids at the foundation, over the course of three weeks, taking them aside in groups of five, explaining the basics of photography, and giving a pep talk to the effect of, "You are all artists. Artists use their unique perspective to share their story with the world."

I may not ascribe to any of the world's current religions, but I believe strongly in the magic that comes of kids being creative. Acting on that, my only hope was for some young people to enjoy the delicious discovery of self-expression. And take some neat pictures.

Humility: As news of this project spread, an incredible, unforeseeable opportunity emerged. We were granted use of space at a nationally-respected cultural institution to put on a show of the kids' best work. Is there a word for thrilled mixed with daunted? Because that's what I felt. Suddenly I felt the limitations of my abilities. Sure, I'm the big gringa with a bunch of cameras and horrible Spanish, but enough bragging. I had never put on a show in my own country, in my own language. What made me think I could pull it off here?

I could never have expected what would happen next. In came offers of help, in areas where I would need it most. How does one print and mount photos, turn in all pertinent paperwork, and publicize everything professionally - all in a language that one is still learning? Well, turns out, I don't have to know, because this idea has been a magnet, attracting loving souls who have emerged with their talents and abilities to help me accomplish all of the aspects of a real live art show.

Love: This is my fuel, and my guiding force. It's how I know I'm on the right track.Where there is love, something special is happening. After each photography session, when the children returned their cameras, we hugged and I thanked them for participating. The light in their eyes is something I recognized. It is the look of a child who felt and gave love.

Whether it was someone donating a camera or money, someone helping me manage the kids, an acquaintance calling contacts in important places, or complete strangers personally giving their energy to a project headed by a giant foreigner they had never met; as each person has come to this team, intent on presenting the kids' vision to the wider world, the love we feel for each other, for the children, for the future, for art, is what we have in common.

The Garden Dirt: Magic Beans

Like many homeschooling parents, I watched the Creationism v. Evolution debate between Ken Ham and Bill Nye two weeks ago. As one might predict, both men spoke respectfully from a place deep inside themselves, and returned to their corners, declared the "winner" by each of their respective sides.

Like some homeschooling parents, I spent most of it wondering why on earth they were having this discussion, and calling it a debate. What were they trying to accomplish? How many minds were changed? Is there an absolute truth there that one of them nailed and the other missed?

Unexpectedly, Joe Coffey, an Ohio pastor who appears in the HBO documentary, Questioning Darwin, cleared this up for me when he said, "If that's the way the world works...if it's just this mechanical thing... then you believe in a God that doesn't intervene in nature, That takes away any possibility of miracles, any possibility of answered prayer..."

He's right!

The scientific method doesn't require a "prayer" step, nor does it contend with miracles in any way but to dissect and explain them.

While human history (and the present) is full of scientists who pray, in all kinds of ways, when it gets down to the real sciencing, publishing "God did it." in lieu of research just won't do. I kind of thought that was pretty obvious back when Galileo's life was threatened by his own church for supporting heliocentrism, the radical notion that we live in a solar system rather than an earth-centric planetary system. He recanted. The dude with the telescope.

JKLOL Please, don't kill me.

Many devout believers have pursued the sciences since then, able to reconcile faith and fact. That's why we have the very technology I am using to publish this very blog at this very moment. (Hallelujah for that, amirite?) Maybe they understand that, rather than try to eliminate our beliefs, the whole point of the the scientific method, is to take them into account. To address the fact that our culture, background, beliefs, or just good old-fashioned fear of being burned at the stake, could possibly influence how we form answers to our questions about the world around us, in a way that renders us less-than-objective.

So, to me, debating evolution v. creationism is like saying, "Who is right? Combustion engines or People who love Disney movies?" I don't see how they're on opposite sides of the same point, except, maybe when it comes to the issue of miracles. A miracle is a funny thing, because, by its very definition, it is supposed to defy all that we know to be true; all that we seek to understand using the scientific method. Growing up, I was taught that believing in miracles requires faith, but most scientists just want to take out their scalpels and figure out exactly what makes the miracle tick.  Does this make them faithless, or curious?

As I have lived, year after year, I have found truer definitions for words I learned as a child;  "faith" and "miracle" are the two biggest ones.

 Faith is building a trellis for beans I haven't planted yet. 

The sheer hours of squatting, cutting, and tying to make a couple of simple bamboo teepees will have you wondering if it will all be in vain. If the seeds will be bunk, or get sick quickly, or be invaded by predators, or grow to a stumpy height, leaving the top of the trellis to mock you with its bareness.

 Faith doesn't mean I believe none of those things will happen, it just means I act as though they won't.

It means I am counting on the well-worn miracles of germination, iron phosphate, and photosynthesis to make all that work worthwhile. Sure, those things I call miracles can be explained, but that does not make them less profound to me. I am filled with wonder when those green leaves pop up for the first time every year.

  And I am a grateful primate indeed when my act of faith is rewarded so fruitfully.

Marveling at the magic of science is something I love to share with my li'l miracles. To see our study on germinating runner beans, check out these photos on the Backyard University Facebook page.