This will start with a gift and end with a call-to-arms.
Among the happy things the internet brings me, from time to time, is a bit of writing so striking it stays with me. Nothing to do with facts or the immediate moment. Rather something about what it is to live right now. In this manner, I held onto an essay on cities and loneliness, by a writer named Olivia Laing. The essay is part of a book, which turned out to be a book I very much wanted to read. I found her site and learned that this book, which touches on themes I am obsessed with, strangers and cities and how it is to live among them–this book did not exist yet. The last line of Laing’s page about the book is this:
If you’re interested in supporting The Lonely City, I have a wishlist of research material here. All donators of books will be thanked in the acknowledgements.
So I did it. I sent her a book from her Amazon wishlist of research materials she needed and couldn’t afford. And I tweeted that I had done so. Someone who follows her asked for the link to the list, and this morning I found out that I am not the only one to have sent her a book. Which is the most wonderful outcome I can possibly imagine.
What I’m interested in here is how in our culture right now, the ivy of generosity is growing over every structure we have built. The research and first printing for Don’t Go Back to School was funded by Kickstarter backers. We create, publish, and sell our work now outside traditional channels, and we make communities in the process. None of this is new, but its pervasiveness is new.
One of the most significant findings of my research for Don’t Go Back to School is that people learn together. They form communities and learn with and from each other. They have as much access to experts as any enrolled student would. The people I interviewed told me stories about asking experts questions–polite, respectful questions (in the book they give advice about how to formulate these). They told me stories about those experts taking them seriously and helping them.
We are deep in the culture of generosity now in how we learn and think and create and contribute and live. It did not seem strange to me to ask strangers to support a book I wanted to write, and it does not seem strange to me every time I support another person’s creative production. It did not seem strange at all to me to send a book to a stranger, a writer whose work I wanted to read more of. It does not seem strange to me when people ask me for advice about independent learning. It does not seem strange to me when people write to me after reading my syllabi on the internet and ask me to suggest further reading on specific topics they’ve discovered there. None of those seem strange at all. They are a part of how we live now. If you are not living that way, you are doing it wrong.