Bending the Truth

That phrase, “bending the truth,” seems to carry quite a negative connotation. In the modern era of spin sensitivity and greater awareness of persuasion in action, one who “bends the truth” is often considered guilty of some transgression. Usually it involves some type of manipulation of language, taking words at their absolute face value and ignoring the common meaning. Like the teenager who confidently and truthfully tells his parents “I was home before midnight!”, because technically speaking, 12:15 a.m. is a full twenty-three hours and forty-five minutes before midnight.

But what would happen if we could take a different appreciation for “bending?” Let’s stop for just a moment to appreciate all of those philosophers and thinkers whose “bending” of known truths exposed an even greater underlying truth. (And maybe underlying carries the wrong sort of connotation as well…)

Lately, we’ve come upon a real treasure of a show. “Avatar: the Last Airbender” runs on Nickelodeon, and is prepping for its third season this April. It’s a great animated series, but don’t dismiss it as just anime. My Kung Fu students brought it to my attention (because each of the diverse groups on the show highlights a different major style), but it has won over my entire family. Here’s the gist:

The world is divided into four nations, each represented by one of the classical four Greek elements: air, earth, fire, and water. The world has been at war for nearly 100 years, and the conquering Fire Nation is ready to finish the job. Each nation has its specialized warriors, who have the ability to manipulate their respective element. The Air Nomads control the winds, the Water Tribes manipulate water and ice, the Earth Kingdom rules, well, all that is rocky — and the Fire Nation warriors do what you’d expect.

I don’t want to get bogged down in the plot or the massive story arcs. Suffice it to say, there is a very rich universe here to explore, and the internal mythology of this place is detailed, consistent, and engaging. It is truly epic in scope, and I don’t use that word lightly. (And the live-action motion picture has already been optioned by M. Night Shyamalan… I hope he doesn’t screw it up.)

My connection here has to do with the description of those who manipulate the elements. They are called “benders.” Earthbenders, Firebenders, Waterbenders, and of course, the last of the Airbenders. The benders are special, but not uniform to the point of monotony. They all have their own strategies and ways of “bending” that showcase creativity and problem solving. For instance, one waterbender figured out how to move the water in vines, and was temporarily confused with being a “plantbender.”

My four-year-old daughter is particularly struck by the show, and the themes of heroism and duty. But I found a real connection with her when it came time to talk about math. For weeks, I had tried to get her interested in stepping beyond counting into basic arithmetic and problem solving. I wasn’t able to get anywhere with her until I asked her if she was interested in becoming a “numberbender.” That caught her attention.

Many times after her story and as I’m tucking her in, she’s asked to stay awake for just a little bit longer so I could teach her some numberbending. Given the societal norms she’ll encounter that will inevitably attempt to steer her from math and science, I’ll gladly spend a few minutes to get her to believe she can be a numberbender. (I’d hope the creators of Avatar might even see this as an educational franchise opportunity.)

Already at the age of four-and-a-half, my daughter has been able to grasp a couple of fundamental mathematical concepts. For instance, she knows that adding 2 apples to 4 apples is the same as adding 4 apples to 2 apples. It doesn’t matter which of the numbers comes first, because they’re all adding together. She also knows that if 2 apples plus 4 apples equals 6 apples, that 2 oranges plus 4 oranges will equal 6 oranges, and 2 camels plus 4 camels equals 6 camels. Yes, at the tender age of somewhere between preschool and kindergarten — my daughter knows that the numbers you are adding are completely independent of the objects they represent. A clear exercise in “numberbending.” (Which means, that if my little girl were to one day appear on “1 vs 100,” she would never flunk a question about how many six-packs it would take to have at least 99 bottles of beer, on the grounds that ‘she doesn’t drink beer.’)

I’ve toyed around with snagging one of those old math textbooks that has the associative property of addition and stuff there in the first couple of pages. (It would have to be old enough that it didn’t have the new New Math, but new enough that it didn’t have the old New Math.) I’ve also thought about just making it up as I go along, and playing it all through the filter of numberbending. I’ve also thought of doing the same thing with letterbending and wordbending.

Whichever analogy works for you, jump on it and exploit it until it doesn’t work anymore. With this paradigm, my daughter (and later my son) will get to appreciate the inherent power of free thought — the rush of pleasure as you solve a problem in a creative way — the beauty of an elegant solution — and the confidence of knowing the world of knowledge is theirs to absorb and redirect. If this is the analogy that sets them both on a path toward greater understanding of the world around them, then so be it. Bending the truth isn’t a bad thing, if your “bending” leads to internal understanding and not external selfish machination.

Not bad for a cartoon.

Now, I’ve got to go. Laura wants to get on the computer, and I’m tired. Memebending is hard work.

[tags]Ike Pigott, Occam’s RazR, Education, Teaching, Avatar: the Last Airbender, Mathematics[/tags]