One of the reasons that I loved games like Uncharted Waters 2: New Horizons (from my previous post) and Sid Meier’s Pirates was that I was fascinated with the ideology of the pirate.
Sure, it’s been highly romanticised by popular fiction, especially Treasure Island, and, more recently, the successful Pirates of the Caribbean series.
Still, there’s just something so appealing about sailing the high seas, living in the company of ride-or-die comrades, far away from “civilisation”, outside of the clutches of societal expectations.
Of course, life on a ship was difficult, dangerous, and often deadly.
You could die in battle or mutiny, during a tempestuous storm, from malnutrition or scurvy, as well as a plethora of other undesirable ends.
But there can be no freedom without risk. And I deeply value that freedom.
Which isn’t to say that I eschew any form of stability and security.
It’s not a one-or-the-other deal. We’re all somewhere on the continuum.
Some of us lean towards freedom (which, of course, comes with risk), and some of us lean towards stability and security (which is typically less risky).
So where would you be on this continuum / spectrum?
Do you lean more towards the free and risky end (Arrr, me hearties!), or the stable and secure one (ye landlubber)?
Playing With Fire is Just Like Playing With Anything Else. Or Is It?
"Don't play with fire."
And yet, there are professional “players” of fire - Cooks, Welders, Metalsmiths.
Why is it ok for them but not for us?
Managed risk. And experience. You can be sure, though, that they've all been burned more than a couple of times in their professions.
In my years as an educator, presiding over activities involving fire (e.g. we use a flame to do microbiology work that requires a sterile environment), I've only witnessed 2 incidents.
Both were minor and both occurred because strict instructions were willfully ignored.
Nobody was hurt, but a container had to be replaced, and somebody's fringe had a corner go missing. She laughed about it, and her friends were more concerned than she was, but she was fine.
More and more, I meet teachers who refuse to allow their students to handle fire or sharp objects.
Which is perplexing, because these same students have classes in the kitchen that require them to do those things.
It irks me when well-meaning adults treat teenagers like young children, mollycoddling and wrapping them around bubbles of protection. It's health and safety gone mad!
Please. They are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves, as long as we give them guidelines and show them that we trust them to follow these guidelines.
Furthermore, those of us who come up with programmes for them know what we are doing.
All these fears are doing is depriving students of quality experiences, education, and life lessons.
Which, to me, is a great tragedy.