Americans have gained an unfortunate reputation for being terrible at geography, among other things. That was driven home recently in an episode I had with someone with a Ph.D. I won’t give out specifics, but the episode has stayed on my mind for a while.
This person had a mind map they were working on, and they were laying out some countries relative to the continents they reside in. What was this persons snafu? They had labeled Nicaragua and Cuba as belonging in South America.
Yikes!
I spotted their error immediately, and pointed out that this wasn’t actually correct. Then insisted it was right, though, and instead of arguing my point, I let the matter drop. After all, they have a Ph.D. What do I know with my lowly bachelors degree in music? Never-the-less, nearly two weeks have past, and it still bothers me. There were so many wrong things with this. The mind-map already had North America listed, which had Mexico, Canada, and the United States under it. Nothing wrong with that. I would have been ok if they had listed Nicaragua under ‘Central America’ even.
Actually, I’m not clear whether technically it should be North America, or Central America. But I do know it absolutely should not be listed under South America. Cuba is the same way. Should it be listed under ‘Caribbean,’ or ‘North America?’ Once again, though, ‘South America’ is just dead wrong.
The fact that these were wrong, though, isn’t what is truly bothering me. We all make little stupid mistakes like that. What really bothers me is that this person had absolutely no interest in what was actually true. They were set in their ways, and to hell with everyone else. They knew what was right, and any one who contradicted what they knew was wrong by default.
They did not have an empty cup:
A university professor went to visit a famous Zen master. While the master quietly served tea, the professor talked about Zen. The master poured the visitor’s cup to the brim, and then kept pouring. The professor watched the overflowing cup until he could no longer restrain himself. “It’s overfull! No more will go in!” the professor blurted. “You are like this cup,” the master replied, “How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup.”
This story has been on my mind lately. There is so much one can learn from this. The main point is that the professor had come to the zen master with a lot of preconceived notions. He already knew what zen was, and came to the master, not in order to learn, but to demonstrate his own knowledge. This is not necessarily bad, but the implication in the story is that he had come to the master in order to learn zen. The lesson to draw from this story is that in order to learn, you need to be willing to learn. You need to be able to leave what you know behind and absorb new knowledge.
The application of this lesson can go far beyond zen and buddhism itself. As a music major, I had lessons every week with my euphonium professor. What would have gotten accomplished if I had gone into the lessons under the impression that I already knew everything about playing euphonium? I learned the most in these lessons when I had dropped my preconceived notions about music and playing.
It can apply in the classroom as well. What’s the point in taking a history class when you already assume that you know it all? We’ve all seen students like this in class. They’re smart, they know what’s going on, they’ve studied on their own, outside of the classroom. I’ve probably been that guy once or twice as well. If I could go back to that time, I would tell myself to ‘empty my cup.’
I hear someone ask, ‘Doesn’t this attitude cause some epistemological issues?’ It certainly seems so, doesn’t it? If we forsake all our knowledge when we go in to learn something new, we’ll never actually learn anything. It becomes a useless philosophy. As with most things, moderation and wisdom is the key.
Should I have an empty cup when talking to an young earth creationist, for example? Or someone who believes that meditation will give you supernatural powers? You might think that my answer to this is ‘no way,’ but this is not the case. In situations like these, the important thing is listening, and that is how you apply the idea of ‘empty cup.’ If I was talking to a young earth creationist, for example, and assumed that what they were saying was just like every other young earth creationist I’ve ever heard, those are preconceived notions that interfere with communication. I need to empty my cup of those notions and listen to what the person is saying.
And perhaps that is the real lesson here: a willingness to listen to what is being said instead of forcing our own notions on someone else. Perhaps it doesn’t have anything at all to do with our own beliefs, but our willingness to actually listen to what someone else is saying rather than being interested in only giving our own perspectives.
