Into the Blue: A Gaggle of Geese
A Gaggle of Geese!
"A pod of whales!"
"A herd of elephants!"
"A pride of lions!"
"A school of fish!"
"A flock of sheep!"
These were called out across the table in a game my grandmother led during dinners on our Floridian vacations: naming as many collective nouns for different species as possible. (Sadly, google has mooted the game today.) I believe my grandmother intended the game for my brothers and me, but to her chagrin, our young minds weren't up to speed; the game was my fist conscious encounter with language variations across collectives. Nonetheless, I loved listening to the adults call out, back and forth, my grandmother always the queen of the game, my mother a close second. The game continued every night of the vacation. A list was started with pen and paper. Guests at neighboring tables began to chime in. The list was recreated every year, and eventually my brothers and me were able to start chiming in:
"An army of ants!"
"A bed of oysters!"
"A murder of crows!"
Recently, I've been thinking about collective nouns used for humans: group of people, team of players, troop of scouts, company of actors, band of musicians, tribe of natives, family of relatives... This listmaking brings up the same giddiness I felt all those years ago in Florida. But today, there is a nuance to my joy: a reverence that our language reflects the heritage of the collective.
I am more intrigued by the collective these days: the choir versus the singer, the troop versus the scout, the team versus the player... I am coaching a 5th and 6th grade lacrosse team this spring. As the young players become more adept with their stick skills, it is thrilling to witness them come together, and move the ball down the field from one teammate's stick to another's to another's and so forth. It inspires a completely different energy than watching a child run the ball down the field and score a goal. The former is reminiscent of geese falling into a v-formation otherwise known as a chevron, which, scientists explain, serve two purposes: first, to conserve energy; and second, to improve communication and coordination among the group. Falling into sync with our fellow beings is one of the most AWEsome parts of being alive.
I worry about our hyper focus on and celebration of the single player in our culture. It is well-known that America is individually focused--our nation is founded on the Declaration of Independence, which guarantees our rights to life, freedom, and our personal pursuit for happiness: all things that promote autonomy, creativity, innovation, work ethic, efficiency, and openness; all things that I value greatly and appreciate in my own life. BUT I worry, over time, we have rooted out our collective experiences, or at least their value, and we are suffering because of it.
Our individualist culture promotes and breeds a self-enhancing, competitive, and overly-responsible folk. We, Americans, are convinced of our uniqueness--our specialness, and are likely to take offense (rather then find relief) in being reminded that each of us is just another bozo on the same bus and/or that we are all divine creatures made of the same matter. We think of ourselves as independent snowflakes. We attribute our successes almost exclusively to our internal traits; we rarely credit the external circumstances or forces beyond our understanding or outside of our awareness that contribute to our successes. Because of this, we feel over the moon when we score a goal, earn an A on a paper, receive a promotion at work, hit a certain weight on the scale, or create a masterpiece...and in turn, we earn the admiration of our fellow players, spectators, peers, and colleagues. We feel better than... But what about when we fail?
We internalize our failures in the same way we internalize our successes. When we fail, we believe we are failures: we are not smart enough, pretty enough, strong enough, creative enough...WE ARE NOT GOOD ENOUGH. Our obsession with self-help is a direct result of the unrelenting expectations we have of ourselves to fix whatever is broken, and if we can't, we conclude we must be broken. And when it is too painful to accept our brokenness, we blame others and their brokenness. If we are not individualizing, we are pathologizing.
Earlier this month, our surgeon general, Vivek Murthy, declared our nation is suffering from an epidemic of loneliness. Social media and COVID-19 have certainly contributed to the detriment of our communities and opportunities to come into collective sync with one another, but the essence of being American begs us to leave the v-formation in search of personal success and happiness. From birth, we are conditioned to bear our burdens alone: new mothers are encouraged to train their infants to fall asleep without their help; they are instructed to let their babies cry it out. We deny help and maintain strict self sufficiency, stressing our systems from an early age. No wonder we are facing an epidemic of loneliness, and our inflammation responses are in overdrive, resulting in all-time highs of Americans suffering from autoimmune diseases, addiction, and suicide.
Recently, I attended a funeral for a friend's father. Although I did not know the man, sitting in a congregation of folks who did was enough to fill me with joy and grief. We shared the burden of loss and magnified the celebration of life. Sitting there, I was reminded of lyrics from a hymn my grandmother (the same grandmother who invented the collective noun game) sang at our Thanksgiving table: "we gather together...the wicked oppressing now cease from distressing...let thy congregation escape tribulation." Coming together to sing, storytell, laugh, and cry eases our suffering and fosters our connections. Like our language, our songs and rituals reflect the heritage of our collectives. And yet, we value our attendance at funerals, weddings, graduations, and coming-of-age celebrations less and less.
Think for a moment about your own choices and/or the values you instill in your children: what takes precedence in your household, supporting your communities or setting yourself or your child up for success? When was the last time you considered/honored the forces outside yourself to your current state of being? When was the last time you internalized a success or a failure? When was the last time you revered someone for their achievements or judged someone for their failures? When was the last time you felt in sync with and/or deeply connected to a group of people?
Out of the blue, this quote landed apropos in my inbox a few days ago (thank you James Clear) from an email Steve Jobs sent to himself in 2010:
“I grow little of the food I eat, and of the little I do grow I did not breed or perfect the seeds.
I do not make any of my own clothing.
I speak a language I did not invent or refine.
I did not discover the mathematics I use.
I am protected by freedoms and laws I did not conceive of or legislate, and do not enforce or adjudicate.
I am moved by music I did not create myself.
When I needed medical attention, I was helpless to help myself survive.
I did not invent the transistor, the microprocessor, object oriented programming, or most of the technology I work with.
I love and admire my species, living and dead, and am totally dependent on them for my life and well being." **
What if, like Jobs, we shift some of our attention back towards the collective energies that fuel, connect, and shape us? In our world where there is so much brokenness, we need each other more than ever. We cannot go at this alone nor are we supposed to. Look around, what can you do right now to honor, nourish, or immerse yourself in a collective? One friend plants gardens for kaleidoscopes of butterflies. Another teaches dilations of pupils. Another coaches teams of players. Another leads congregations of churchgoers. Another tends flocks of sheep. Another is in a choir of singers. Another is in a crew of sailors. Another hosts parties of friends. The next chance you have to attend a celebration or ritual, show up. The next time you praise your child, praise them for being a team player. The next time you need help, ask for it. The next opportunity to be of service, help. Before you fall asleep tonight, thank those who came before you. When you wake up tomorrow, consider all those who will come after you. Stop gaggling; start flying.
As always, thank you for reading,
Georgia
PS The above photo was taken before sunrise on board a ship cruising in the Doubtful Sound, New Zealand.
**Source: Email sent on September 2, 2010. Featured in Make Something Wonderful