An Ithacan
I enjoyed reading this interview of the philosopher John Doris, who grew up in Ithaca, earned his B.A. at Cornell, and returned to work there not long ago (he previously worked at UC Santa Cruz and Washington University in St. Louis). I’ve known just a few Cornellians who grew up in Ithaca, but that hasn’t stopped me from forming an idea of the “native” worldview. Doris’s outlook matches it pretty neatly. Nature: yay! Science: yay! Religion: it’s OK, especially if it encourages personal decency, but it’s not really “for me.” Quasi-mystical ritual: now, this is crucial (Doris’s ritual is martial arts). Psychotherapy: crucial. Society: lots to be hopeful about (those frightening WMDs, though!). Leisure time: best spent hiking on nature trails. Or cooking.
When I lived in Ithaca, my nerves were always strung tight. Now I realize that compared to other meritocratic hubs, Cornell is an oasis of calm. And, I daresay, of goodness.
(This comes across in Doris’s interview when he compares his undergraduate years with his Ph.D. studies at the University of Michigan.)
My own early life was not so different from Doris’s. I had a lot of time to read what I wanted, in a subculture that was spatially removed from the mainstream. And I played sports and was surrounded by lovely scenery.
Mishawaka’s springtime weather has been delightful, and I can’t help but think of Quito. Yesterday, watching Samuel play with twigs on the lawn, I remembered how I used to do the same upon comfortable grass, on a campus where, eventually, I would go to school.
That place, also, was vast and quiet and walled in.
When I lived in Ithaca, my nerves were always strung tight. Now I realize that compared to other meritocratic hubs, Cornell is an oasis of calm. And, I daresay, of goodness.
(This comes across in Doris’s interview when he compares his undergraduate years with his Ph.D. studies at the University of Michigan.)
My own early life was not so different from Doris’s. I had a lot of time to read what I wanted, in a subculture that was spatially removed from the mainstream. And I played sports and was surrounded by lovely scenery.
Mishawaka’s springtime weather has been delightful, and I can’t help but think of Quito. Yesterday, watching Samuel play with twigs on the lawn, I remembered how I used to do the same upon comfortable grass, on a campus where, eventually, I would go to school.
That place, also, was vast and quiet and walled in.
