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Saturday, October 27, 2018

Tom Bombadil: A Being Above It All

This week we get to meet Tom Bombadil.  Tom is a fantastic character in an already fantastic setting.  If you thought Middle Earth was a strange place, Tom take it to a whole 'nother level.  But who is Tom Bombadil?  Why has the Creative Wizard included him?

As I mentioned last week, Tom Bombadil rescues the hobbits from Old Man Willow, the willow tree that attacks them.  He invites them to his home where they stay for two days.  Living with Tom is Goldberry, 'the riverman's daughter.'  She is described as very beautiful and her movements are always compared to something natural.  She adds to the surrealism of the place.  Nevertheless, they are both kind of the hobbits,  Goldberry and Tom treat the hobbits to many lavish meals, which is about the best thing one can give to travelling hobbits.  Thus is our chapter this week called "In the House of Tom Bombadil."

But the more time the hobbits spend in Tom's house, the stranger things become.  Frodo asks twice who Tom is, once he asks Goldberry and once he asks Tom, himself.  Neither gives a direct answer.  Goldbery tells him he is "the master of wood, water, and hill."  Frodo responds, "Then all this strange land belongs to him?"  Goldberry returns, "No, indeed!...  The trees and the grasses and all things growing or living in the land belong each to themselves.  Tom Bombadil is the Master... He has no fear.  Tom Bombadil is master."

Okay, so Tom is in charge.  Seems like a good guy to have on your side.  But that doesn't explain much.  After dinner, Tom is regaling the hobbits with some stories.

He told them tales of bees and flowers, the ways of trees,
and the strange creatures of the Forest, about the evil things and
good things, things friendly and things unfriendly,
cruel things and kind things, and secrets hidden under brambles.

Frodo interrupts Tom and asks who he is.  Tom says, "Eh, what?  Don't you know my name yet?"  Then he fumbles with his words for a bit before saying, "Eldest, that's what I am."  He says he's been around even before the Elves, and long before the Dark Lord came around.  Then he returns to telling his stories.

Frodo grows bored of these stories (and is more than a little frustrated with these "answers"), so while Tom is talking, Frodo puts on The One Ring.  Merry gasps - he notices Frodo has disappeared.  Frodo starts sneaking out of the room, but Tom calls him out.  Tom can see him!

Tom is a very strange character, indeed.  He is aware of what's happening in Middle Earth, and is willing to take sides (he rescues the hobbits from death), but is ultimately unaffected by even something as strong as the Ring.

So the question remains: who is Tom Bombadil?

Tom Bombadil is, I think, a representation of 'the institution'.  He is not a character with an agenda, he is a representation of everything that transcends the coming conflict.  The trees measure their lives in centuries - a battle between normal mortals is irrelevant to them.  Tom is older than the trees.  Tom is even older than the Elves, which means their passage West is ultimately immaterial to him.  The world turns; Tom abides.

Institutions are not inherently evil.  But they are is inherently inert.  They move, but slowly.  And once they start to move the very size that made them difficult to get going now makes them difficult to stop.  Institutions prefer the status quo - it's just easier.

At my workplace, we have a staff member who, at our meetings, will suggest ideas.  Most of them are very good.  Few of them are implemented.  He doesn't mind.  He says "I'll just keep bringing them up.  Whether it takes a year or a few years, I'll get them in place eventually."  He doesn't mind how slow things go - he knows this is inherent to the process.  Persistence is what is required, not brute force.

Change usually happens slowly and then all at once.  While we may only see the change when it is measured (Wow!  He lost 50 pounds in a year!) it is usually happening all the time, though in immeasurable ways.  To lose 50 pounds in a year you need to enact and keep to a variety of lifestyle changes.  Losing 50 pounds is the result.  Better to say "Wow!  For a whole year they ate better and burned more calories!"  That's the achievement.

As a teacher, I consider it my priority to prevent students from becoming cynics.  As I write in my personal statement of vision, "I will teach students the difference between an achievable goal (promoting recycling in their community) and unachievable idealism (100% recycling worldwide), and how to temper the passion for their cause with realism." Some would say, and have said, that I am placing my adult realism on my students' guileless optimism and thus limiting them.  I understand what they're saying, but I think realism is an important perspective to learn.  Not to depress our goals, but to measure our achievements.  If we have realistic goals, we're more likely to achieve them, and success breeds success.

Tom is not a good measure of Frodo's goals.  Tom doesn't particularly care.  Let's take a close look at the text I noted above, where the Creative Wizard lists off the tales Tom told them.  Everything is paired.  Evil and good, friendly and unfriendly, cruel and kind, etc.  From this we can deduce that balance is important to Tom.  Keeping the status quo.  Neither evil nor good are not important to him, just that there is balance between them.  Kindness and cruelty is not important to him, only the balance.  Indeed, Tom provides a good example of this balance.  When he saves the hobbits, Frodo asks if he came because he knew they were in trouble.  He says he didn't and that it was pure luck.  Then he tells them to come to his home and then leaves them without waiting for them to follow.  They only find it by following the path - the path which previously had led them to the deadly Old Man Willow.

Tom intervenes on their behalf and saves their life, yes.  Tom, like all institutions, wants peace.  But not peace as in justice and freedom - peace as in quiet and the status quo.  Ultimately, Tom proves immovable.  He wants the hobbits to be safe, but he doesn't care about their Quest.  If Mordor emerges victorious, he is likely to help lost orcs just the same as he has just helped the hobbits.  Tom doesn't care.  Tom doesn't need to care.  Tom is above such petty squabbles.  Tom will survive.

Later we will encounter another very old character who does intercede against Mordor.  But he does this only at great cost.  Would Tom have responded similarly, if his home had been attacked?  The text is unclear.  Tom is powerful but ultimately unreliable.  He doesn't have skin in the game.  The institution doesn't care who is in charge.  At the end of the war, whoever wins, the institution will remain.

Here's the clincher:  At the end of the chapter Tom teaches the hobbits a song.  He says they should sing this song if get into trouble.  As long as they are in or near the Old Forest, Tom will be able to save them.  But the Old Forest is not their destination.  Their's is far to the east.  If Tom will not extend his protection beyond his dominion, then he must be left behind.  He is of no use.

A final note: This is why, I think, so many people do consider institutions inherently evil, or at least amoral.  If they don't care who wins, they won't resist evil.  If they don't resist evil, aren't they allowing it, thus strengthening it?  The Elves fight Sauron because they believe he will not just take control of Middle Earth - but because he will destroy it.  If this is true, and if Tom won't act until he sees his own dominion destroyed, is he really "above such petty squabbles"?  Or is he just another myopic, self-interested being, caring only for his immediate needs...

The Lord of the Rings: An Ethical Guide is a Patreon-supported project.  Thank you to all those who have contributed.

Like this project?  Want to learn more?  Want exclusive access to behind-the-scenes content?  Go to my Patreon site and see how you can become a part of the action!

Saturday, October 20, 2018

In Hostile Territory

This week's chapter is called "The Old Forest."  Frodo and company begin their adventure by leaving Crickhollow and heading out into the forbidding Old Forest.  Merry is somewhat familiar with the Forest, but he also admits sometimes the paths change without warning, and the trees are unfriendly.

You've heard of Ents, perhaps.  We will meet them much later.  But this chapter shows why Middle Earth needs Ents.  Often Lord of the Rings is seen as a parable about the sins of the industrial revolution.  The Hobbits, who farm and eat and party and are content, are the heroes.  Saruman cuts down a whole forest and Sauron engages in genetic engineering.  Even the Ring, itself, is an unnatural thing.  Tolkien seems to be against progress.  However, this chapter reminds us that Tolkien does not believe unbridled nature is the solution.  The natural world is dangerous and unpredictable.

The trees crowd the Hobbits on their way, and the path becomes confusing and unreliable.  Merry recounts a story of when the trees attacked the Shire and the Hobbits had to chop off their reaching limbs.  At the climax of the chapter, the hobbits are attacked by a willow tree.

How, you ask?  The willow tree makes them sleepy, and when they doze off it attacks them.  It draws Merry into it's trunk to squeeze him.  Pippin is overtaken by roots.  Frodo is pushed by the tree's limbs into a nearby stream in an effort to drown him.  The Old Forest is no safe haven.

As they wander about, the hobbits cannot help but fret over their dangerous situation:

There was not as yet any sign of a path and the trees seemed constantly
to bat their way.  Pippin suddenly felt that he could not bear it any longer,
and without warning let out a shout.  Oi! Oi1" he cried, "I am not
going to do anything.  Just let me pass through, will you!"
"I should not shout, if I were you," Said Merry. "It does more harm than good,"

Later, Frodo sings a song about being lost in the woods.  Though the forest may seem endless, the song says all paths end.  The song ends with the line "all woods shall fail."  When he says this, the words are seemingly swallowed up by the trees, and the air becomes noticeably thicker.

"They do not like all that about ending and failing," Said Merry.  "I should
not sing any more at present.  Wait till we do get to the edge, and then
we'll turn and give them a rousing chorus."

A few years ago I went on a road trip down to Tennessee.  On my way back, my car broke down and I was stranded in Appalachia.  I was fortunate to have been near a town, though 'town' seems like a generous term.  There was a motel, a gas station for trucks, a building with a big sign that said "food" over it, and a restaurant.  A few miles away was the mechanic.  His son was kind enough to drive me to and from their garage when needed.  I was stuck there for probably two days.

It was January.  There wasn't any snow on the ground, but it was very cold.  The motel wasn't usually open then (I think I just got lucky that the owner happened to also live there) so they didn't have any heat.  The owner gave me two small room heaters.  The TV had three stations.  The shower took forever to warm up.  There were no grounded outlets, so I wasn't able to use my computer.

The restaurant was good, but there was a note at the bottom of the menu - no soup on Sunday.  I don't know if religion actually had anything to do with it.  Once I went walking on a nearby hill.  I heard someone's radio tuned into conservative talk radio and the host was loudly condemning Hillary Clinton for Benghazi.

I was, to put it lightly, in a completely different kind of world than I am used to.  I'm Jewish and I live outside Boston.  I'm liberal.  I feel safe where I am.  I did not feel safe there.  I did not mention I was Jewish, actively lying whenever it came up.  Everyone was nice to me, but I couldn't help but worry what would have happened if I looked Jewish.  Or if I was black.  Or if I was a woman?  Maybe I'm not giving them enough credit.  But why should I?  Why take the risk?

One day the mechanic's son was driving me back to the motel.  We had talked quite a bit by then.  We connected over history - I have given tours in Lexington for quite a few years.  He went to Gettysburg regularly and hoped one day to participate in the re-enactments.  He said he liked the re-enactments because, among other things, it was the only time he could fly the Confederate flag without being criticized.  He then went on to complain that history was being forgotten and the Confederate flag isn't really racist and all the tired arguments we've heard about it.  He finished by saying, "You know what they say  - those who forget their history are doomed." I waited him to say the whole thing, but it didn't happen.  He evidently believed that was the whole saying.

However, I was in what felt like hostile territory.  If not to me, personally, then to people I am close to.  I was fortunate that I could keep my mouth shut and not reveal myself to be what may be perceived as "the other."  I needed these people to cooperate with me.  I needed them to serve me food, to keep their motel open, and to fix my car (and at a reasonable price).  As much as I wanted to speak out, was this the right moment?  I was a stranger stranded in their land.  Why would they listen to me?

We live in an increasingly totalitarian world.  Not only in the Middle East, not only in Latin America, but also in Europe and even in America.  Dissent is not as valued.  If you are on the side of those in power, any dissent is seen as an attack.  And if you are on the side of those out of power, dissent is not enough.  You must be a revolutionary.

These extremes will breed more extremes.  A revolution is victorious or it is squashed.  Anything else is a loss.  As we've learned in Iraq and Afghanistan (and Vietnam, before), unless you can totally defeat the enemy, they'll just keep recruiting and keep attacking.  Similarly, a totalitarian regime is victorious or it is defeated.  There is no survival for "the other".  They are defeated or they flee.  This binary choice pushes all to the extremes.

The trees of The Old Forest do not like visitors.  They are irritable and prone to violence.  They object even to certain words, even when those words are meant as benign (When Frodo sings that the woods will end and fail, it is obvious he means the woods can be left behind, not that the woods will cease to exist).  The trees don't communicate clearly, they only act more or less hostilely.  You need to guess what they're thinking and hope you guess right.

But Merry provides an alternative.  They will soon leave the woods - the woods that have abused them throughout their travel.  When they leave, they can insult them all they want.  Heck, they can "turn and give them a rousing chorus" right on the border.  And what will they be able to do about it?  Nothing.

The world is becoming more dangerous even for us Americans at home.  I was listening to a podcast which had an extended quote from the Brett Kavanaugh hearings.  Hearing his voice for such a long time she came to my room and looked at me quizzically.  She asked if I liked him.  I said no.  Then the podcast hosts came back on, and she understood I was just listening to the news.  She said, "Oh whew - I thought I was going to have to move!"  She nor I didn't laugh.  We understood.

But that's crazy, to not be able to live with someone because they have different political opinions!  Heck, many people oppose marrying outside their political tribe.  That's some extreme shit!  How can you know the political tribe of everybody you interact with?  You can't!  So when we talk about it in public we use hushed tones, as if we're plotting something terrible, lest someone from The Other Side overhears and interjects.  Or we talk about it loudly, almost daring someone to disagree.  When we ask someone's political opinions, it is rarely a genuine question, but more likely a probe.  We hear they support gun rights?  We assume they oppose abortion, don't value the arts, and are probably racist.  We hear they support immigration?  We assume they are pro-choice, anti-gun, and part of "The Resistance."  And then we decide to be nice to them or not based on these assumptions.  The public space is no longer safe - it is a highly surveilled space, and Big Brother is us.

Extreme measures, by their nature, tend to lack strategy.  When you're in an extreme situation, you often have so little power that you just need to do everything you can and just hope something works.  But this is often counter productive.  No matter what side you're on, enemies count on you making a misstep.  You can win just because your opponent did something stupid and lost.  But a win is a win.

Pippin shouts at the trees because he resents them for assuming he has ill-will.  Frodo sings a song to keep the company's spirit up.  In both cases, Merry has to intervene.  Neither song nor resentment is appropriate.  They need to employ strategy, even if it is as simple as waiting for a better opportunity.

The world is dangerous.  Be safe.  Be thoughtful.  Plan carefully.  The more extreme you are, the more likely you are to adhere to a "strategy" of brute force.  But The Old Forest is unforgiving.  It is here to swallow you up.  And the trees are strong.

The Hobbits, in the end, are defeated.  They are saved only by a eucatastrophe.  A mysterious character named Tom Bombadil happens to pass them by and, when he whispers to the willow tree, it releases the hobbits.  He invites them to his house, which is where our next chapter will take place.

We will explore more of Tom Bombadil next week.  But suffice to say he doesn't do much in this story and he doesn't show up again.  His power and motives are mysterious.  We cannot depend on our own Tom Bombadil coming to rescue us.  We are the ones we've been waiting for.  We must be.


The Lord of the Rings: An Ethical Guide is a Patreon-supported project.  Thank you to all those who have contributed.

Like this project?  Want to learn more?  Want exclusive access to behind-the-scenes content?  Go to my Patreon site and see how you can become a part of the action!

Saturday, October 13, 2018

A Friendly Conspiracy

This week's chapter is called "A Conspiracy Unmasked."  Given all the things we've been reading about (The One Ring, the Black Riders, Gollum) we would be right to expect this is chapter foreshadows more bad news for Frodo and his friends.  But the Creative Wizard is more clever than that.  As we shall see, sometimes it is a friend behind the mask.

Frodo and Sam and Pippin have finally arrived at Crickhollow, Frodo's "destination".  He is, of course, going much further from Bag End than Crickhollow.  But he wants to keep it secret - so he has told everyone, including his friends, that Crickhollow is where his journeys end.  Only Sam knows his true purpose.

In Crickhollow, Fatty Bolger and Merry Brandybuck greet the three and cook them dinner.  Fatty and Merry are two of Frodo's closest friends from childhood.  As they eat around the warm fire, Frodo realizes he must soon leave these comforts.  After dinner, he attempts to explain what he must do.  But he cannot find the words.  Finally Frodo says "I have got something to tell you all, but I don't quite know how to begin."

At this point, Merry breaks in.  He tells him that they know he is going away and they will go with him.  Merry and Pippin, you see, have noticed strange changes in Frodo's behavior, and - after some prodding - Sam told them all of what he knew about the Ring and Frodo's mission.  Though initially reluctant - he feels guilty for endangering his friends - Frodo relents.  Thus, the conspiracy is unmasked, and it is merely a group of dedicated friends.  Indeed, at one point, Frodo calls them "decietful scoundrels".

However, by the end, though the danger is great, Merry and Pippin have committed themselves to Frodo's mission - more for the sake of Frodo than for the mission itself.  As Merry says, "We are horribly afraid - but we are coming with you; or following you like hounds."  They fill some packs and prepare to leave the Shire the next day.  Together.

This past Thursday was National Coming Out Day.  Sadly, it will come as no surprise to most of you that it is still extremely dangerous to be gay in America.  Or trans.  Or anything that deviates from being the cultural norm (Heterosexual and cis).  The kind of physical violence and psychological cruelty often aimed at these people is abhorrent.  That's why a National Coming Out Day is so important.

National Coming Out Day addresses two issues that hinder LGBT acceptance.  The first is people tend to support LGBT rights if they know an LGBT person.  According to that study, there's a 40 percent increase in support if someone knows "a lot" of people who are "gay or lesbian."  Even if they know just "one or two," support still increases by 11%.  For those of us who already support LGBT rights (or are LGBT) it can be distasteful to think someone may only support LGBT rights if they know someone in that category.  However, we live in a democracy.  The people vote.  It doesn't really matter how we get them to support LGBT rights, as long as we get them to do it.

A story: When I was in high school I was pretty lukewarm about LGBT acceptance.  I didn't have a problem with them - I just wasn't motivated to advocate for them.  But then a close friend of mine came out as being lesbian and it began to dawn on me that someone might treat her badly because of this.  That would be unjust!  And that was the beginning of my LGBT advocacy.  I guess I'm a little ashamed it took me needing to have a personal stake to care, but I also know that that motivates me to go the extra mile as an advocate and ally.

National Coming Out Day provides an opportunity to turn those who otherwise are apathetic about (or opposed to) LGBT rights into advocates by showing them how the issue affects them and their friends and family.  If a family member comes out at LGBT, maybe that will motivate the whole family to political action.

I can't find a source, and it's likely not true, but one of my favorite quotes about this is, "I spent my whole life being homophobic.  Then God gave me three gay sons and told me to grow the hell up."

Of course, I am describing the ideal situation.  Many families are not supportive, and some are terribly cruel, even kicking their own children out of their homes.  (Click here to donate to an organization that fights LGBT homelessness (I already donated, but send me your receipt (Contact me on Patreon if you don't have my personal contact info) and I will match it (up to $20 per person, up to $100 total (What, you think my day job as an educator gives me infinite extra cash?)))) Damn, that's a lot of parentheses

The second issue National Coming Out Day addresses is visibility.  A lot of people in America live in small communities.  These communities often lack diversity.  In the absence of LGBT people, homophobia can stir (As we said earlier, homophobia declines as people know LGBT people.  Similarly, homophobia can thrive where there are no LGBT people).  And, since one can choose to hide their LGBT identity, we can reasonably assume some people hide (or, worse, entirely suppress) their LGBT identity to avoid that homophobia.  Less LGBT presence can increase homophobia  Thus, homophobia breeds homophobia.

National Coming Out Day is not just a day to come out, but a day to celebrate those who have.  Ideally people would say "Oh, my favorite celebrity is LGBT, how cool," and they'd change their opinion accordingly.  I think that's unlikely.  However, as those closeted LGBT people see famous people who are like them - people they can see on TV or in movies - they may grow to accept their own identity.  And whether that means they come out to their community or just accept themselves a little more than they did before, that's good news.  Coming out breeds more coming out.

OK - what's the connection here?  Frodo has a dangerous journey ahead of him.  And, because he cares about his friends, he wants to leave them out of it.  This is an admirable goal - it is HIS task.  HE should burden the risk.  There's no reason anyone else should put themselves in danger.

But his friends view it differently.  Frodo has a dangerous journey ahead of him.  It is HIS task.  HE will burden all the risk.  That seems dangerous.  And so, because they care about him, they will not let him go alone: "We are coming with you; or following you like hounds."

I am sure coming out is a stressful process.  It can be really easy to shoulder all that stress yourself.  Coming out is a personal process, after all.  No one else deserves any of that stress.  How unfair would it be to burden your friends with it?

And yet, your friends will see it differently.  Coming out is a stressful process.  They will want to help.  Coming out is a personal process - but isn't everything?  They want to help.

And what if they don't?  Friendship requires a back and forth.  What if your friend complains to you about their day but then, when you try to complain about yours, they tell you that your problems aren't their concern.  You wouldn't be friends with this person for very long.  A true friend takes your struggles as seriously as their own.  If you try to come out to someone and they refute you or don't want to listen then they probably won't be a good friend to you as you become your full self.

I cannot give a one-size-fits-all answer.  There are parts of the country where being LGBT is truly dangerous.  This blog won't change that.  There are some friends who may prove false.  There are families who may prove false.  If you're concerned about that situation but still want someone to talk to you can contact me or check out this LGBT-specific online community.

But for those of you who have friends you can trust reach out to them.  As Merry says, "You can trust us to stick to you through thick and thin... But you cannot trust us to let you face trouble alone,"  Friends are critical.  Friends provide support and safe spaces.  Friends comfort you when you are down and celebrate with you when you are up.  A life without others is a lonely one.  Even the seemingly immortal Tom Bombadil, whom we will meet soon, has Goldberry.  It may seem noble and prudent to take on all the risk yourself, sparing your friends, but there's no need to be a martyr.

Conspiracies are often framed as negative and subversive.  That's an accurate description, I think.  "Piracy" is contained within the word.  But piracy is just capturing ships without legal authority - the act of capturing ships remains the same.  What's different is whether one is permitted to do so.

When tyranny is law, revolution is order.  Conspiracies, then, are good if the power structure they subvert are bad or harmful.  And you better believe our current system hurts the LGBT community.  The best response is for that community to come together.  And what is a community but a series of friendships?  So find your friends and create a conspiracy.  Fight the system.  And if that seems too large a task then think of the other LGBT people who will be inspired to come out because you did (or because you supported someone in their coming out).  Make this country safer for LGBT folks to be themselves and as more come out their increasing visibility will erode homophobia (For, as we saw above, homophobia drops significantly as people realize they know LGBT people).  Success breeds success.  There's no reason to fight alone.

The Lord of the Rings: An Ethical Guide is a Patreon-supported project.  Thank you to all those who have contributed.

Like this project?  Want to learn more?  Want exclusive access to behind-the-scenes content?  Go to my Patreon site and see how you can become a part of the action!

Saturday, October 6, 2018

Walking in the dark


This week is our first double portion, and so we are reading two chapters this week: "Three's Company" and "Shortcut to Mushrooms."  They both follow Sam and Frodo as they leave Hobbiton and head toward Buckland (two neighborhoods in the Shire).  They are joined by Peregrin Took (Pippin), who is Frodo's younger cousin.

The journey to Buckland is just a front.  Frodo (with Sam) intends to leave the Shire as he has been instructed to by Gandalf.  Pippin is unaware of this, and unaware entirely of The Ring.  However, Buckland is on the border of the Shire, whereas Hobbiton is more in the middle.  So it makes for a good cover story for Frodo and Sam to leave Hobbiton without attracting too much attention.  Very few hobbits even think of leaving the shire.

On the way, they encounter mysterious Black Riders.  They wail loudly, ride dark horses, never reveal their face below their cloak, and sniff the ground for tracks.  Frodo and company quickly piece together that these are servants of the Enemy.  To avoid them, Frodo and company trek through the woods instead of the main road.

But it isn't all bad news.  They also find some Elves, who give them food and a safe place to sleep, though the advice is questionable.  Eventually, by the end of the second chapter, they have arrived in Buckland.

The journey takes about four days, stopping occasionally to eat and to sleep.  Towards the end of the second day, after eating supper, as the sun is setting, "[Frodo] picked up his stick again.  'Well, we all like walking in the dark,' he said, 'So let's put some miles behind us before bed.'

What does Frodo mean, they all like walking in the dark?  Keep in mind they are walking through a forest - there are no lights except the stars and moon.  This isn't a quick jaunt through familiar territory.  They are being pursued by the Enemy.  And even under safer conditions, what is there to like about walking in the dark?

I don't ask this question as a pure hypothetical.  A week ago I decided to go on a walk through a path in the woods.  I had never been there before and was excited to explore a new place.  But I got there much later than I intended.  After about 30 minutes, the realities of sundown were becoming hard to deny.  I didn't want to explore this place by the light of my phone's flashlight.  I wanted to walk through the woods during the day and see and enjoy them.  So I turned back - and as I got back towards the entrance, darkness was already apparent.  I had to strain my eyes to see, and by the time I reached my car it was undeniably nighttime.  The dark did not enhance the experience for me.  So, again, what is there to like about walking in the dark?

When we walk, we primarily use our eyes.  We have five senses, but we mostly just use one.  Is this route safe?  Is there a sudden incline or descent?  Is the street safe to cross?  Is the path narrowing?  Is there water or mud or a fence or a fire?  We may hear a car or smell a campfire or feel the ground shifting beneath our feet, but when that happens, what do we do?  We look to confirm.  Our ears or noses or feet need to be verified.  But our eyes?  Well, seeing is believing.

If we see a car but don't hear it, or see a fire but don't smell it, we find it a little weird, but we don't dismiss what our eyes are seeing.  It can be hard to dismiss something we saw.  "But I saw it with my own two eyes!"  This is why most magic tricks are visual in nature.  An auditory 'trick' is too easily shaken off.  Visual tricks are harder to explain.

And yet, our eyes are only useful if we are facing a certain direction.  Our noses and ears can smell and hear in all directions.  We will feel something touch our skin even if we aren't expecting anything to touch us.  That's why being a pickpocket is a skill, and not just a matter of reaching into someone's pockets when they aren't paying attention.

Walking in the dark challenges us.  Walking in the dark requires us to lean greatly on other senses.  When we hear something, we won't be able to confirm it with our eyes.  When we feel the ground shift beneath our feet, we can't just look down to assess.  We'll have to slow down.  But if we do, we will notice something remarkable.  The rest of our senses wake up.  We will hear more, our feet will feel more.  Because we can't rely on our eyes, everything else becomes enhanced.  And we will find we are as capable as we were when we depended so much on sight.

Returning to our text, I believe part of why Frodo says they all like walking in the dark has to do with hobbit anatomy.  They have hairy, tough feet, and they walk barefoot.  Their feet help them feel the ground with incredible detail.  We usually walk in shoes and so our sensitivity is dulled.  But hobbits can sense a great deal of information through their feet.  They like walking in the dark because they are able to.  Despite having eyes like other beings on Middle Earth, hobbits delight in what makes them special.

When I arrived at those woods, I knew it was later than I had hoped.  I knew it would get dark soon.  But I still went.  Why?  Because even though I have my eyes, I also have a strong sense of direction.  It is difficult for me to get lost.  I knew, even if I stayed out longer than I intended, I'd be able to find my way back.  And, to be honest, I like that I have that capacity.

There are other ways, too, it may seem to others we walk in the dark, but in fact we get particular pleasure precisely because we know we can surmount the challenge.  Some people are particularly good at getting tasks done right before the deadline, whereas for others that prospect is too difficult.  Some people prefer to drive without a GPS, claiming the turn-by-turn directions takes the joy out of driving.  None of us have hobbit feet, but we all have some kind of talent or preference that turns a normally difficult situation into an enjoyable challenge.  We all like walking in the dark - though exactly what darkness we relish in differs from person to person.

A final thought:  Diversity is a bit of a buzzword nowadays.  In some ways, it is a political issue.  As an educator and youth worker, diversity is in my face whether I want it or not.  All children are different.  I have had similar students over the course of years of my work, but none who were identical, and rarely similar students in the same class.  Classrooms are essentially jungles of competing and conflicting personalities.  That's one of the things that make being a teacher such a difficult job.

However, this diversity has benefits.  For one thing, everyone brings their own views to the classroom content.  This means everyone has something unique to say about the content.  When all these ideas are brought to the fore, conversations are richer, as students mix and match (and reject) what they hear and integrate it (or not) into their own thinking.  I'll take the article I linked a step further: Diversity, for it's own sake, is beneficial because diversity, on it's own, has value.  We want the best ideas, and hearing more ideas makes it more likely we will find the best ones.

Connecting diversity to the original point, everyone relishes different darkness.  Some people excel where others fail.  The more diverse our groups are, the more likely we will be able to succeed whatever darkness we encounter.

Identify your skills.  Identify the darkness it illuminates.  Take joy in succeeding where others falter.  But then, find those groups that are failing, find those people who are struggling where you excel, and join them.  If we all walk together in the dark, the darkness will become something we not only fear less but something we enjoy more.

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