Thursday, Feb 2

What a spectacular day. Not a cloud in the sky so it was a dry cold—got up to 34 degrees, but according to weather service, “feels like 24.”  After two hours discussion/lecture in our Inequality class, we got on the tube, en mass, and traveled to Archway.  From the tube it was a long walk up a 3% grade to get to High Gate Cemetery.  Of course, a sociology class on Inequality in London must pay homage to the grave of Karl Marx.  It was a long ways uphill.

First gate, locked.  We marched on.  Second gate, locked.  We trudged through Water low Park and finally found an entrance which charged us £ 2 each.  The gatekeeper was annoyed we had not made an appointment as there was a funeral arriving today.  I negotiated and reminded him the website did not require reservations; he relented and we set out.

It was a spirited walk through the cemetery.

Here is an “all in” photo of my students at the grave. Instead of saying “Cheese,” they chanted, “Revolt.”  

One very serious student asked me why we were not reading Marx in this class.  I told him that he had the luck of drawing one of the few sociologists on the planet who studies stratification but does not put Marx on the require reading list. I guess I have one disappointed and 26 relieved students.

 Then, our visit was extended when we could not find an open exit. By now, the natives were cold and getting restless.  Finally, we hiked back up to the main East entrance where the gate keeper unlocked the padlock so we could escape. We took a scenic route through a different part of Water low Park with great views of downtown. 

The most fascinating turn of events occurred when we happened on a bridge over a frozen pond.  We probably stood there—about 24 of us—watching the birds walking on water for a good twenty minutes.  Obviously, we are a California crowd to be so in awe of birds on ice.  We watched as some of the young men tossed sticks and rocks to see if they could crack the ice. They couldn’t.   Then, we were treated to a toddler throwing bread to the ducks on ice.  We got some great laughs seeing the birds swoop in for a land and skid around in search of crumbs.  Ice skating birds are really, really entertaining.  Nice sunshine the whole time, too, with only a few gusts of icy wind. 

The class acrobat, gymnast—he of the fractured face from a faulty back flip last Friday—has irrepressible energy and athleticism.  I can see how much better he thinks when his body is in motion—a very smart, thinking kid.  I watched him engage each of these obstacles as we passed, he jumped up and caught a rope swing—launching out into space just because it was there—that was after jumping across some low fence and bouncing on platforms mounted to springs.  It is a miracle that anyone with that kind of kinesthetic learning going on survived the K-12 education system which is so concerned with repressing movement.

I talked to him last night at the theater about how his injury affected his confidence.  I was glad to see today that he was not bluffing in saying he couldn’t wait to get back to turning flips.  Just not in my presence, please. Be still my heart when he wanted to walk on the iced pond.

The performance last night had spectacular sets and barely so-so choreography.  Still, the students really enjoyed which was a lift to witness. We were given wrong directions with our tickets leading us to the Apollo Theater instead of the Apollo Victoria.  It seems we all found our way across town in time for curtain.  Some hailed a cab.  I jumped on a bus and some students used their iphones and hopped on the tube.  It made it more exciting to get there and revel in our resourcefulness.

Classes are really fun as more and more of the students reveal themselves and come to grips with ideas about social class and inequality. 

Reflections.  It is really fun to be out with students and hear their casual observations and the types of questions they ask in private conversations which would never come up in class.  I feel incredibly honored to be a guest in their world, seeing things through their experiences.  Outside the classroom provides a better venue to impart ideas, too, when I am listening rather than lecturing.   When they get curious about what I think, the conversation is much more engaged because it comes from their interest not mine.  It is encouraging to watch learning happen. These 19-20 year olds will shape the world long after I am gone and I am fascinated at how that is going to work out.  Hopefully, some of the tools that helped liberate me from the pathologies of our society and times will be useful to them as well.