My daughter has embarked on her collegiate journey this fall. Her new stomping grounds are the well-manicured, sun-soaked lawns of the University of Southern California. Her new locale provides a compelling motive for regular travel on the 6 hour north-south journey between home and her campus.
Although flying has a significant time-savings benefit, a long road trip has its unique charm. On a plane trip, a traveler can read, watch videos and sleep, activities not recommended while driving. There are reasons I continue to opt for the long drive. Key among the appeal is the joy of catching up on podcasts. Two of my favorites are the NPR podcasts “This American Life” and “Invisibilia”.
Podcasts are fascinating story-telling vehicles. The listener is enchanted by the auditory spell cast by the personalities. Due to the intimate consumption experience of the medium, voices from the shows join with those of cherished friends and family. Ira Glass, Yowei Shaw, Hanna Rosen and Lulu Miller are among the vocal signatures imprinted in my sonic memory. Through the process of hours of careful listening, we feel we more than recognize their voices and that we understand their essence. These narrators project their wit, curiosity, and thoughts as they guide us on each transporting journey. With each episode, the barrier between listener and podcaster lowers.
It’s like we never met
Lulu Miller has a new book. She has invested 10 years of her life to the cause. She is making the rounds visiting her fellow podcasters to promote her work. The book begins with Lulu’s research of Stanford’s first president David Star Jordon. Through her investigation of this complex man, she confronts her own life and philosophy.
For those unfamiliar with Lulu’s work on Invisibilia and RadioLab, she presents with confidence and charisma. Her gregarious personality make her one of the most memorable and beloved of the talented NPR podcast journalists.
I listened to her hour long interview on the podcast “Long Form”. Lulu delves into her struggles with mental health and depression. Though I was aware of some of these issues, the depth and intensity of these struggles was beyond my expectations. Podcast Lulu is so bright and upbeat that it is hard to square with this less visible side of Lulu.
She recalls her father’s influence on her interest in science and the mysteries of the universe. As a young girl, she recalls the first time her father explained his nihilistic philosophy. His matter-of-fact explanation that life is meaningless left a deep impression on young Lulu. She was perplexed that her funny and charming father would adopt such a bleak outlook.
Struggling with a changed world
Did Lulu’s father’s nihilism create an inner-schism with our podcast pal? Her writing and stories are consumed with her struggle to make sense of the chaos of our world. It seems her father’s words continue to haunt her.
As a young child, our trust in our caregivers is absolute. We innately believe that our parents have the correct answers to navigate our world. Ask any adult and it is common for them to remember the surprise and disorientation which came from a seminal moment when they first realized that their mother or father was a mere mortal, with all the limits and flaws that come along with that designation.
Let us depart from Lulu Miller and wish her well on her journey as a parent of a young infant boy. I am eagerly looking forward to her return to radio journalism and Invisibilia.
A surprisingly naïve child
There is a popular belief that hatred is not innate, but a learned behavior. Our parent’s attitude to others will inform our own. As a child, my parents did not instill a strong sense of their cultural heritage nor racial or religious distinctions. As recent immigrants from South Korea, they were proud of their home country. Their friends were high school and college friends from South Korea. They spoke Korean to each other, though neither my sister nor I are fluent in the language.
Growing up and attending school, few of my classmates were of Asian heritage and even fewer were Korean. I did not feel out of place or different and got along well with my classmates. I recall learning about racial segregation in grade school and finding the idea that black southerners had to use different water fountains and bathrooms from whites confusing. I went home to my parents and asked my dad how bad it was to have to use a different water fountain from the whites. He laughed at my confusion. He came to America in the mid-1960s and attended graduate school in New York. He informed me that he is not black and that he never had to drink from separate water fountains. By this time, I realized by the teasing of the other kids at the bus stop that I was not white. I still didn’t understand all the national differences. When the teasing was directed at me with derogatory comments like “chink” or “jap”, I didn’t realize that these terms were specifically meant for different nationalities of Asians. I assumed that that these insults were applied for anyone who looked Asian.
As far as middle school, I still did not really understand what being Korean meant. For a foreign nations essay, my teacher enthusiastically encouraged me to write about South Korea. I knew I was Korean by this time, but the notion that there were two Koreas, a democratic, capitalist South Korea, and a northern, communist North Korea was lost on me. Though I correctly wrote about the country of South Korea, I drew my accompanying flag for my report using the North Korean one. My teacher was confused and then somewhat horrified when she realized my mistake. She was expecting the distinctive and beautiful ying-yang blue and red on white South Korean flag. I too was embarrassed at the error.
Purposeful or Accidental
Whether my parents’ decision to leave discussions of race, religion and nationality for my sister and I to discover on our own was intentional or not, I see the benefits of this method. Why are we so anxious to instill these categories for our children to learn? For what purpose do these learned distinctions create other than creating division? Living in America, the subject of race, religion and nationality are deeply ingrained into the everyday conversation. Biology informs us that we are more alike than different though most Americans would be hard pressed to believe this based on their life experience.
Tear down these walls! We need more community and understanding than fish.
