As I was taking my shower today I was musing on the gutterpunks I encountered during my time in New Orleans. I'd been reminded of them during a class discussion on cultural relativism, and I've been pondering why they might have had such a strong impact on my psyche, to remember them over ten years later.

Then I open my mailbox and this is a piece of my horoscope for the day:


And I think I've figured out the connection.

See, the class discussion was about how this particular culture treated orphans. They left them to run the streets, fend for themselves, fight the dogs for scraps, etc. All things we here would consider more than vaguely reprehensible, and the anthropologist observing this was shocked to say the least. Relativism would usually have us end up by shrugging our shoulders, saying, well, their morality condones this, so who am I to judge? But the author we're reading (Cook) has a different take. He's quoting Boas (a hero of anthropology apparently) who suggested asking why this is the way orphans are treating in this culture. The anthropologist being quoted in this example was apparently hassling the adults about how these orphans were treated, and they responded, why wouldn't we treat them this way? they will become stronger than anyone, tougher than the rest of us, the best hunters and leaders out of all of us. If we don't do this, we would be much worse off as a people. Hmm.... not exactly the uncaring disrespect one would expect, right?

Which is what led me to the gutterpunks. Many were self-chosen orphans. They had run away from home, looking for freedom or at least something that passed for a better life. They often had none of the social support systems we take for granted. They rebelled against all 'normal' standards. Instead of becoming hunters and leaders, they became prostitutes and drug dealers. An anthropologist looking at our culture would probably be equally as shocked, because our answer to the same question would be "they chose to live this way." We're not better as a people because of it, certainly.

They really got me thinking, at a time in my life when rebellion was still super sexy, about what freedom really means. I loved their mobility. If everything you have fits in a backpack, there really is no limit to where you can travel, as long as you don't expect to be comfortable. But is mobility really freedom? I also envied them their ability to completely ignore most authority. There were no parents, no professors or bosses in their lives. No time cards, no to do lists. But they still had responsibilities, they still had to care for themselves, surviving is not an optional pursuit. So not having to answer to authority is not really freedom either. They certainly had freedom of self expression, they could color, pierce and tattoo themselves however they wished. But, then again, so did I. I dyed my hair purple and got tattooed and pierced just to prove the point to myself. So the freedom of self-expression is larger than their particular path in life. We both had freedom to choose who we spent our time with.

And yet I had several freedoms they did not have. I was free from hunger or thirst. I was granted the resources I needed to pursue my love of learning, which is one of the freedoms I treasure the most, freedom to learn, freedom of knowledge. I had money I could exchange for greater comfort, and even silliness. In fact, most of the time I could choose between multiple options in my life, where I saw fewer options in their lives.

And that's the connection and the conclusion. Freedom in many ways is about choices. Knowing what your options are, and being able to decide from those options. Expanding your options means expanding the potential ways to satisfy your needs and desires.

There's another wrinkle to this. Around this time I was also taking a course in Taoism. I loved that class. It met on the second floor of the humanities building, and I could score a seat near the back, looking out a window at a huge, old, gnarled and stubborn tree. I loved that tree. Its first level branches were twice as big around as me. It looked huge, and comforting, and I loved staring at the intricacies of its bark. I paid more attention to that tree than the class usually, though I like to think that the professor found that appropriate to the subject matter. And I devoured the readings, I read every page of every book assigned to us. So when one day, the professor asked us "what is freedom?" I perked up a little. One of the guys in the front began with the typical western philisophical answer... freedom is the state of existence where one is free of all outside influences and constraints, complete self-determination in all things, and as such is largely an illusion...The teacher cut him off. Yes, but what would Lieh-tzu or Lao-tzu say freedom is? I raised my hand and gave the answer that still rings true for me today... Freedom is recognizing the constraints that you exist within, and being content with them. It is knowing that we will always be limited, and yet choosing to act anyway.

Far from being an unreachable ideal, freedom is an ACTION. It is something you do, every day, when you weigh the options available to you, make your decisions, and rest content within those decisions. It realizes that resources are a critical component, but resources only enable action, not cause it. Anyone can be free. We just have to take actions, within our available options and resources. And that's where it got interesting for me. What happens when I change my available resources? And what happens when I train myself to look for the non-obvious options?

I'm still working on it. But life encompasses freedom, so I have plenty of time.

Don't worry, the next entry is knitting. I just need to snap a few pictures first.