Every generation changes the face of its society. Even so, the worldwide youth of today seem to be breaking with their respective traditions. This is as true in Spain as anywhere else. The two socio-political worldviews I laid out in the last post, socially conscious romanticism versus traditional conservatism, are both under siege from arguably the most potent mindset of them all: apathy. I say potent because apathy has the power of prevention, the power to preclude other mindsets or opinions by preemptively rendering them uncool, pointless, unworthy of attention.
Apathy, of course, is generally a reaction and not a state of equilibrium. Nothing exists in a vacuum, and a vacuum would be necessary for apathy to exist of its own volition. Rather, apathy comes about through a combination of disillusionment and overstimulation. The disillusionment, almost always, is with politics, the economic status quo, the established social and cultural traditions, or some other vestige of the “system.” Unfortunately, however, those who choose to show their dissatisfaction with any status quo by pretending to ignore it are merely feeding back into the cycle that they vainly distance themselves from. I can think of no historical example of a situation where widespread apathy was a primary cause of improvement.
Yet this is, in many ways, our generation’s defining struggle. We exist in something of a dichotomy, where our overexposure to politics either motivates us to form and advocate opinions or makes us shrug our shoulders in disgust. Simultaneously, the rampant overstimulation of today’s Western youth camouflages a choice between access (to information, to other people and ideas, to causes and organizations and cultures) and mere entertainment. And, once again, it is all too easy to choose entertainment, to slip smoothly into a cycle of stimuli that never produce a substantial or original reaction. So, I would argue, apathy is not self-sustaining phenomenon, but rather a product of individual and group reactions to an existing system.
In this sense, Spanish youth have caught on fast. Only 30 years into democratic politics, they are already tired of politicians. The parties are the basically the same, all the good parties are outlawed, none of it affects us anyways… the responses are the same in Spain as in the U.S. And those are from the people who even feel the need to explain why politics doesn’t interest them. The real “silent majority” are the people who absorb political news and world events the same way they absorb music, never really processing it or incorporating it into their lifestyle, opinions, or actions.
Despite this negative social commentary, there is something to be said for what the youth –apathetic or otherwise- does best: having fun. And, in the pursuit of fun (in the general sense), young people have a knack for breaking existing social barriers. So it is that everyday humor, whether crude or enlightened, can mask insightful social commentary or reveal actual cultural transformation. In the United States, humor belittling oneself, one’s country, or anything in between has long been the mainstream. In Spain, young people have a similarly iconoclastic irreverence for traditional aspects of Spanish identity or culture. Part of this is the result of the cosmopolitan cultural modernism that pervades Europe today, but part is simple self-deprecating humor on the part of young Spaniards.
Machismo, a very real part of Spain’s (and the rest of the Latin world’s) traditional character, is the target of humor as well as social policy initiatives (to be discussed in another post). The phrase “Macho Iberico,” is traditionally reserved for the toughest and manliest of Spanish men: the bullfighters, the futbolistas, the power brokers. Now, it is jokingly used to compliment a well-executed pour out of a wineskin (proffered by a friendly bartender), held at arm’s length to allow the trajectory of sweet and strong vino fino to arc through the crowded tapas bar and fill the pourer’s mouth without spilling a drop, to shouts of approval. If you guessed that this description is autobiographical and that I am a natural with a wineskin, you were correct (they asked me if I learned it from reading Hemingway). The ironic label of “macho iberico” also comes up in discussions of chest hair amongst twenty-somethings and comparisons of sandwich size between school children, among other situations.
As with any country’s generation of young people, Spanish youth have a façade of coolness, complete with loud music, motos and fast cars, name brand clothing, drugs and alcohol. And, as is true anywhere else, the combination of coolness and apathy can be downright toxic if it becomes the dominant norm for a country’s young people. Also prevalent among my Spanish peers, however, along with the humor, the fun, and the coolness façade, is a strong movement towards higher education, multilingualism, personalized careers, and internationalism. This highly motivated side of this generation here, inevitably, competes and contrasts with the apathy discussed above. It remains to be seen, therefore, what the outcome and impact of today’s Spanish youth will be. In the meantime, they are busy just living.
Friday, November 27, 2009
Sunday, November 15, 2009
The paradox of Spanish Society: a Brief History
Spanish society is something of a paradox, a product of contrasting and sometimes conflicting tendencies and currents. Spain’s history, in the long term, is one of alternating religious toleration and confrontation between Christian and Moorish cultures. In the modern era, Spain’s history is usually described using words like “hierarchical,” “traditional,” “conservative,” and even “repressive.” And this, indeed, is the legacy of Spanish colonialism in Latin America, an era remembered for its political oppression, social hierarchy, labor exploitation, and indigenous subjugation. Most devotees of Latin American politics or history would begin –and end– any discussion of contemporary social or political issues by connecting the region’s cyclical history –of racial exclusion, social upheaval, political instability, and socioeconomic inequality– back to its roots in Spanish colonialism. And while Latin American society and politics today are acquiring an increasingly indigenous –or at least American (in the continental sense, not related to the good ole USofA)– identity, the themes of religious influence, social hierarchy, and political authoritarianism are still strongly rooted in the Spanish tradition.
Spain itself spent most of the 20th century under the authoritarian Franco regime, following the political polarization and subsequent civil war of the 1930s. Franquismo (Franco-ism), the social and political doctrine of the general and dictator, envisioned and enforced a Spanish society that was Catholic, socially conservative, culturally traditional, and politically hostile to the threats of modernity. That modernity, however, was inevitable for Spain, a country that has always been at the geographical crossroads and socio-political mainstream of contemporary Western history.
When Franco died in 1975, the current King Juan Carlos, Franco’s protégé at the time, came into power. In one of the most remarkable transformations of the modern political era, Juan Carlos chose a path of political openness and fully democratic elections were held within 3 years. Spain quickly joined the ranks of Western Europe’s capitalist democracies, though the scars of the Franco years are slow to heal. In large part due to Juan Carlos’ reconciliatory, forward-looking approach, the Spanish government has only recently sponsored historical truth commissions and opened investigations into human rights violations and political crimes committed under the Franco regime. Franco still represents, for much of Spain, the traditional nationalism and the conservative Catholic family values that have always been central to Spanish society and identity. In more ways than one, Spain’s history is still very much alive in its present, more so than in the rest of Western Europe (in my humble opinion).
So, while Spain’s historical character has often been dominated by its traditional conservatism, there has also emerged an increasingly prominent array of progressive social currents. Spain, like Latin America, has two diametrically opposed socio-political worldviews. One is the traditional –often reactionary- conservatism described above, which has long sustained the legitimacy of the monarchy and the influence of the Church, as well as the family-based social model, but which is also responsible for traditional social hierarchy and authoritarian political repression.
The other is a unique combination of emotive romanticism and leftist social theory, resulting in a sort of romantic socialism that seeks (among other things) equality between men, political betterment, and social harmony. This fundamentally optimistic worldview –a genuine and popularly held belief that individual actions can improve humanity (leaving for later a discussion of similar thinking in the US)– has spawned Latin America’s countless revolutionary movements, inspires several current regional leaders (see: Morales in Bolivia), and has always been the “push” to Latin traditionalism’s “pull”. In 1930s Spain, an elected government actually formed a legitimately democratic Communist republic, only to have the pendulum swing back right with the civil war and the Franco years.
In today’s Spain, progressive currents are again the mainstream, from government spending on education and social initiatives (to be discussed later) to a thoroughly modern youth culture and nightlife (definitely to be discussed). Please pardon the social science-y historical overview, I hope this entry will provide worthwhile background for a more personal discussion of life in Spain in future posts.
Spain itself spent most of the 20th century under the authoritarian Franco regime, following the political polarization and subsequent civil war of the 1930s. Franquismo (Franco-ism), the social and political doctrine of the general and dictator, envisioned and enforced a Spanish society that was Catholic, socially conservative, culturally traditional, and politically hostile to the threats of modernity. That modernity, however, was inevitable for Spain, a country that has always been at the geographical crossroads and socio-political mainstream of contemporary Western history.
When Franco died in 1975, the current King Juan Carlos, Franco’s protégé at the time, came into power. In one of the most remarkable transformations of the modern political era, Juan Carlos chose a path of political openness and fully democratic elections were held within 3 years. Spain quickly joined the ranks of Western Europe’s capitalist democracies, though the scars of the Franco years are slow to heal. In large part due to Juan Carlos’ reconciliatory, forward-looking approach, the Spanish government has only recently sponsored historical truth commissions and opened investigations into human rights violations and political crimes committed under the Franco regime. Franco still represents, for much of Spain, the traditional nationalism and the conservative Catholic family values that have always been central to Spanish society and identity. In more ways than one, Spain’s history is still very much alive in its present, more so than in the rest of Western Europe (in my humble opinion).
So, while Spain’s historical character has often been dominated by its traditional conservatism, there has also emerged an increasingly prominent array of progressive social currents. Spain, like Latin America, has two diametrically opposed socio-political worldviews. One is the traditional –often reactionary- conservatism described above, which has long sustained the legitimacy of the monarchy and the influence of the Church, as well as the family-based social model, but which is also responsible for traditional social hierarchy and authoritarian political repression.
The other is a unique combination of emotive romanticism and leftist social theory, resulting in a sort of romantic socialism that seeks (among other things) equality between men, political betterment, and social harmony. This fundamentally optimistic worldview –a genuine and popularly held belief that individual actions can improve humanity (leaving for later a discussion of similar thinking in the US)– has spawned Latin America’s countless revolutionary movements, inspires several current regional leaders (see: Morales in Bolivia), and has always been the “push” to Latin traditionalism’s “pull”. In 1930s Spain, an elected government actually formed a legitimately democratic Communist republic, only to have the pendulum swing back right with the civil war and the Franco years.
In today’s Spain, progressive currents are again the mainstream, from government spending on education and social initiatives (to be discussed later) to a thoroughly modern youth culture and nightlife (definitely to be discussed). Please pardon the social science-y historical overview, I hope this entry will provide worthwhile background for a more personal discussion of life in Spain in future posts.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Some kind of start on "the road of life"
Just over a month into my time here in Spain, I am still deciding on what direction to go with this much-delayed blog. I want friends and family to be able to keep up with my life here to some extent, but I would like these posts to contain more than just personal updates. At the same time, I lack a coherent project or subject to follow and report on, such as the domestic political situation in Bolivia when I was researching there last summer. So, I will begin this blog from the standpoint of a recently graduated college student who, after falling just short of two other jobs in the U.S., shipped himself off to Spain to teach English for a year.
The “year” is actually an 8 month school year, October-May, as part of the Spanish government’s bilingual education program. My title is "Auxiliar de conversacion," or "Foreign Language and Cultural Assistant," and my employer is the Junta de Andalucia. I teach in a public primary school in the small coastal city of Motril, Granada province, in Andalucia. The school’s bilingual program is relatively well-developed, with most teachers speaking some basic English and science classes taught in Spanish and English, in addition to English language classes. The school even has a blog, where parents can read about class field trips or find class activities when their kids are out of school sick. It strikes me as a good and sensible tool for connecting parents to schools, one that U.S. educators and administrators would do well to learn from (especially considering the relative ease of access to internet for most American families, compared to Spain).
I teach grade levels 4, 5, and 6, which here means students from 7 to 10 years old. I’m lucky to have this age group, as they are perfectly situated between the crazy energy of young kids and the insecure coolness of pre-teens, young enough to be enthusiastic about learning but old enough to actually have (some) attention for it. And not a class goes by that doesn’t make me laugh out loud. My time in class is evenly split between English language, taught mostly with the same teacher, and Natural Science (or “knowledge of the medium/surroundings”, directly translated), a bilingual subject for which each lesson is taught in Spanish by another teacher and then in English by yours truly. Overall, relative to other auxiliaries (‘auxiliar’ is the official job title), I am fortunate in the amount of structure I have at my school, while still maintaining a fair amount of autonomy and independent planning and teaching.
I am also fortunate, considering the numerous horror stories regarding Spanish bureaucracy and late payments, to have received my first monthly salary. Which is to say, I have euros in the bank. It is a great feeling to be financially viable here, to be earning my keep, paying my way, making money and not just spending it, actually living and working in another country. While I won scholarships, took out loans, and worked a part time job to pay for rent and tuition at college, and could claim more self-sufficiency than most, what I feel here is something far beyond that. This current phase of living entails an entirely different level of self-sufficiency and independence, a life and the means for that life completely separate from any support structure, financial or otherwise, outside of what I create and/or carry with me.
I guess this is my version of the so-called ‘real world’ experience, that first job and living situation after college that is so dramatized in the minds of students. The interesting thing is that, while the responsibilities of a post-college life are more legitimate and serious in society’s eyes, they are not necessarily more burdensome or stressful. In fact, based on anecdotes and general impressions, I would venture that the stresses of a working graduate, while defined as more ‘real world’, are actually less intense and ubiquitous than in the daily life of an overextended college student. Concerns about the future -and of course the demands of rent, bills, and budgeting expenses- are still present, but they are generally more sensible and manageable than those of the everything-all-the-time mindset and lifestyle of college.
Perhaps most importantly, a job-holding graduate’s concerns lack the constant underlying doubts about individual purpose, the importance of ideas, personal independence, and the worthwhile-ness of the college experience in general. There is something grounding and legitimizing about having a clear day-to-day purpose, doing a job that is needed, and getting paid for it. It is basic, and simple, and refreshing after the big doubts and questions of college inherent in that mixing of pure fun, big ideas, constant work, moderate responsibilities, and individualism. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t trade my college experience for anything. And I also don’t consider my current job to be the most serious or invested job out there. I do, however, consider myself lucky to have any job at all in this dismal economic scene, especially a job so perfectly tailored to the interests and outlook of a recent college grad. And while this particular job is a far cry from a conventional career, there are still things about working and living independently (whether in Spain, the US, or anywhere else) that make college seem a world away.
The “year” is actually an 8 month school year, October-May, as part of the Spanish government’s bilingual education program. My title is "Auxiliar de conversacion," or "Foreign Language and Cultural Assistant," and my employer is the Junta de Andalucia. I teach in a public primary school in the small coastal city of Motril, Granada province, in Andalucia. The school’s bilingual program is relatively well-developed, with most teachers speaking some basic English and science classes taught in Spanish and English, in addition to English language classes. The school even has a blog, where parents can read about class field trips or find class activities when their kids are out of school sick. It strikes me as a good and sensible tool for connecting parents to schools, one that U.S. educators and administrators would do well to learn from (especially considering the relative ease of access to internet for most American families, compared to Spain).
I teach grade levels 4, 5, and 6, which here means students from 7 to 10 years old. I’m lucky to have this age group, as they are perfectly situated between the crazy energy of young kids and the insecure coolness of pre-teens, young enough to be enthusiastic about learning but old enough to actually have (some) attention for it. And not a class goes by that doesn’t make me laugh out loud. My time in class is evenly split between English language, taught mostly with the same teacher, and Natural Science (or “knowledge of the medium/surroundings”, directly translated), a bilingual subject for which each lesson is taught in Spanish by another teacher and then in English by yours truly. Overall, relative to other auxiliaries (‘auxiliar’ is the official job title), I am fortunate in the amount of structure I have at my school, while still maintaining a fair amount of autonomy and independent planning and teaching.
I am also fortunate, considering the numerous horror stories regarding Spanish bureaucracy and late payments, to have received my first monthly salary. Which is to say, I have euros in the bank. It is a great feeling to be financially viable here, to be earning my keep, paying my way, making money and not just spending it, actually living and working in another country. While I won scholarships, took out loans, and worked a part time job to pay for rent and tuition at college, and could claim more self-sufficiency than most, what I feel here is something far beyond that. This current phase of living entails an entirely different level of self-sufficiency and independence, a life and the means for that life completely separate from any support structure, financial or otherwise, outside of what I create and/or carry with me.
I guess this is my version of the so-called ‘real world’ experience, that first job and living situation after college that is so dramatized in the minds of students. The interesting thing is that, while the responsibilities of a post-college life are more legitimate and serious in society’s eyes, they are not necessarily more burdensome or stressful. In fact, based on anecdotes and general impressions, I would venture that the stresses of a working graduate, while defined as more ‘real world’, are actually less intense and ubiquitous than in the daily life of an overextended college student. Concerns about the future -and of course the demands of rent, bills, and budgeting expenses- are still present, but they are generally more sensible and manageable than those of the everything-all-the-time mindset and lifestyle of college.
Perhaps most importantly, a job-holding graduate’s concerns lack the constant underlying doubts about individual purpose, the importance of ideas, personal independence, and the worthwhile-ness of the college experience in general. There is something grounding and legitimizing about having a clear day-to-day purpose, doing a job that is needed, and getting paid for it. It is basic, and simple, and refreshing after the big doubts and questions of college inherent in that mixing of pure fun, big ideas, constant work, moderate responsibilities, and individualism. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t trade my college experience for anything. And I also don’t consider my current job to be the most serious or invested job out there. I do, however, consider myself lucky to have any job at all in this dismal economic scene, especially a job so perfectly tailored to the interests and outlook of a recent college grad. And while this particular job is a far cry from a conventional career, there are still things about working and living independently (whether in Spain, the US, or anywhere else) that make college seem a world away.
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