The Marketing of Evil: How Radicals, Elitists, and Pseudo-Experts Sell Us Corruption Disguised As Freedom by David Kupelian

Author:David Kupelian
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Midpoint Trade Books
Published: 2011-12-04T16:00:00+00:00

7

SABOTAGING OUR SCHOOLS

How Radicals Have Hijacked America’s Education System

WHEN I WAS A little boy, about nine or ten, I had a recurring dream. It didn’t come at night, however, but during the daytime. It would happen when, on occasion, I found myself lying on my parents’ bed, not doing much of anything or thinking about much in particular.

I would gaze up at the ceiling—I don’t really remember if I had my eyes closed, but I don’t think so—and I would visualize outer space, with its multitude of worlds and heavenly bodies orbiting and streaming through limitless space. I would extend the expanse of space farther and farther out, in my mind, and then farther still, as though I wanted to see what came next, what lay beyond it all. Of course, all I saw was more and more of the same galactic landscape.

Each time I had this “dream,” a wordless question would arise in my mind as I mentally searched out the ends of the universe:

Is that all there is?

Somehow, despite the infinite expanse of the universe and its spectacular cosmic events, I felt as though it were just so … one-dimensional. All I could see in my mind’s eye was more space, more worlds, stars, galaxies, and such, and beyond them more and more and ever more of the same.

I was searching, it seemed, for something more, for something beyond the final outer wall of space and matter and time. What lay on the other side of that wall?

Pretty soon I would wake up from my daydream and go play, eat, watch TV, do homework or fight with my older brother.

Decades later, I can more readily appreciate my recurring childhood dream. In those special moments, some part of me was looking for God. For some strange reason, even though I lived in a fog like many young people, I was graced on occasion with magical, faith-giving moments of wonderment. I was searching, at least during those brief flights of fancy, for meaning, for purpose—for the spiritual dimension of life.

Actually, far from being daydreams, I would say those infrequent but soulful inner explorations of mine were probably my most awake moments as a child.

Indeed, for most of us, childhood itself is something of a dream. We float along in the world of our parents, for better or for worse, and we grow up pretty much shaped by the most powerful forces around us—home and school.

Fast-forward a dozen or more years. The next time I remember brushing up against the Infinite was after I had graduated from college. Taking an extended and much-needed break, it was the first time in years I didn’t have the demands and anxieties of school hanging over me. There was an unaccustomed absence of pressure. I could breathe. My future was not mapped out for me as it had been during all previous years, when I always knew I’d be moving up the next grade when September arrived.

I went into neutral. My mind relaxed. Reflection and

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