If you’re a history lover and an enthusiast of cultures, you must visit the Stony Island Arts Bank in the South Side of Chicago. It’s a community, cultural, and arts center, housed in a reclaimed building that was initially going to be torn down. The beautiful structure was a bank from the 1920s that had been abandoned for a long time, until the Rebuild Foundation came, renovated, and gave it a new life as a center that fosters community engagement with the history and culture of Chicago’s South Side. See the beautiful images of the bank in the image gallery below.
I came primarily to see its marvelous reading room and I dragged my photographer husband with his gears. The reading room is actually the Johnson Publishing Library, with books up to the ceiling on Black history and cultures. You’re allowed to browse and flip through the books, but not check them out. Wash your hands first before you touch the books, since some of them are very old. They also have drawers of old picture slides dating all the way back from the 1800s (wear gloves if you want to check them out and notify the staffs).
The top floor features two private collections that had been donated to the arts bank. One is the Frankie Knuckles records collection and the other one is the private collection of Edward J. Williams, who had amassed hundreds of racist artifacts of Black Americans from the Civil War era to the present. He had purchased many of these objects to take them out of circulation. Among these were segregated bathroom signage, old postcards with very disturbing images and sayings, and many others that reflect a way of thinking that is part of American history.
The staffs are very helpful and eager to tell the many interesting stories associated with the arts bank and its exhibits. Since its opening in October 2015, this center has been an active and ongoing project, with volunteers from the community helping with efforts such as cataloging the books in the library.
I enjoyed the few hours I spent there tremendously. They also host events and musical performances by local artists, which are more reasons to come back and visit. If you plan to visit Chicago, be sure to stop by and spend some time there (free admissions!).
See more coverage of the Stony Island Arts Bank here and here. Visit their website here.
This article is the third of an essay series on engineering, titled Between Jerusalem and Athens. Read the first here and the second here.
“I can’t just work with mice!” Billy told me after not seeing each other for 8 years. “I need people, human interaction.” I knew Billy in Boston when he was a biomedical engineering student. Between then and now, he switched to anthropology and went on to do humanitarian work around the world, places like South Sudan and Nepal. He glowed when he said, “I love it.”
I admired his courage to make the turn to his very fascinating, and important, current work.
In describing his human-deprived environment, Billy hit on a distinct aspect of technical work, especially in a research setting. Mental activity—reasoning, analyzing, experimenting—is on overdrive while social needs remain starved. While we’re at it, let’s just be honest here and admit that it puts physical activity in expense too. Who’s got time for the treadmill when you need results? I’ll do it next month. Or year.
The nature of engineering work often requires isolation. Quite a number of us can get away from not talking to anybody in a given day, if we want to (and sometimes I do). This caveman-like behavior becomes a problem, though, when it is elongated, because, well, breaking news, engineers are humans too. And humans need other humans [citation not needed].
As such, engineers then are not exempt from the regular laws that govern normal, daily humanness. Like eating, breathing, and… oh yeah, interacting with other people.
Ever heard someone say, “I wish people are more like machines, give an input and you know what the output will be”? Maybe you heard it from me. Surprise, surprise, humans are nonlinear, unpredictable, and non-formulaic. And we engineers ought to know how to be human too.
What Gives Work Meaning
Why am I making such a big fuss about this? It’s because of this notion of a fulfilled life, which I want and cannot buy. Can I, engineer, have a fulfilled life and glow like Billy when he talked about his work? Can I do engineering with some soul?
I should note that many scientists and engineers glow when they talk about their work, because they just love science. For many, this love is enough to fulfill their lives.
But what I’m seeking for myself is the type of glow from knowing that my work helps another person. It’s the element of service that gives meaning to my existence. I won’t pretend that doing engineering in an office can be as noble as empowering communities out of poverty. They are incomparable. But, can I, in some degree, bring this type of soul work into my daily life?
To me, being an engineer is part of my identity, but not its totality. It’s deeper than a mere role, but there are other things that make up who I am as well. Who I am, in total, is a human being, with a body, mind, and soul.
The Soul Dimension
I wrote before about the segmentation of knowledge, how our education is classified into silos that are often tangential to each other. Here, I’m questioning the segmentation of the things that make us human: the body, mind, and soul.
Of all three, the soul seems to be the most optional in modern, Western society. The body commands greater interests now as health trends occupy media attention. But our greatest preoccupation, though, is mental. Our schools and employers are less concerned with people having good health, good character, and fulfilled lives than with their brains’ outputs. In the race towards prosperity and paid bills, we pursue education to get a job, and work, work, work. Exercising, eating well, thinking about the purpose of work, loving what you do, and giving back to others are luxuries that many can’t afford.
This arena of the soul covers a wide field (or, I’m recasting it as a wide field). It is the sphere where we have human connections, compassion, and appreciation for beauty, wonder, and fulfillment. It is something that is beyond physical or mental, but rather a spiritual aspect being human. By spiritual, I’m not talking about religious experiences exclusively, but a soul component to life that reaches beyond our own selves. I believe all of us seek something spiritual.
Abraham J. Heschel says,
Human is he who is concerned with other selves. Man is a being that can never be self-sufficient, not only by what he must take in but also by what he must give out. A stone is self-sufficient, man is self-surpassing. Always in need of other beings to give himself to, man cannot even be in accord with his own self unless he serves something beyond himself. Man is Not Alone, p 138.
I think Heschel is on to something here, because there’s evidence of this need to give. We admire individuals who are not only smart and good-looking, but who also invest themselves in the good of the world. The ones that can combine the body, mind, and soul command our greatest respect, perhaps because they have something that we ourselves seek.
[True education] has to do with the whole being… It is the harmonious development of the physical, the mental, and the spiritual powers. – Ellen White, Education.
Whoever came up with the idea that any one of the body-mind-soul triads can be neglected without consequences? When I first encountered this quote, it was groundbreaking, because it sounded foreign. I thought education only had to do with the mind.
I began to understand the interaction of the three when I started taking stocks of my days. The best days at work for me are those when I feel useful to other people, when my work directly helps another person and makes their lives easier, even in a small way. I now understand this as the spiritual aspect of my work, and though anticlimactic from the grand ideas above, it is a start of a journey.
I think, whatever field one may be in, these body-mind-soul combo needs to be fulfilled. For an engineer, the soul aspect is probably the one more lacking. But other profession fields may suffer in a different way, maybe too much soul or too physical, but not enough mind, or too much soul and mind yet very sedentary.
This balanced development though will not be given to us on a platter. We must seek it and pursue it actively into becoming a whole, holistic human being.
I envy little kids. Especially when they laugh. Or even when they’re distressed, I envy their full trust when their parents and protectors say that everything will be OK.
By now millions around the world have seen the very touching conversation between a father and son about the tragedy that happened a week ago in Paris. Both the depth and simplicity of what they expressed revealed a truth about our human lives, where grief and beauty, sadness and strength, fear and comfort, concerns and happiness, intermingle.
As little children, grief seems to scar us less deeply. Fear can be fleeting and sadness temporary. Part of it is the bliss from ignorance and innocence, both a blessing. As adults, though, realization about life, knowledge of things good and evil, do not permit us to forget so easily. Moments of happiness can be infused with worry, knowing that good things don’t always last. The knowledge of life’s trajectory toward physical deterioration and death, even an intimate experience with death, can easily tinge our entire reality.
This knowledge is not bad, since it puts a check in our paths to not be so careless and irresponsible. It informs us on how to best live, to empathize and extend compassion, knowing that the same unfortunate things can very well happen to us too.
There are plenty of reasons to be somber and melancholic today, with the many wrong and fearful things happening in the world, the skepticism towards leaders and policies, and the feeling of hopelessness that may come as a result. Many of these are appropriate.
Yet we also must not lose our capacity for joy, for beauty, wonder, love, and hope. We are not to be morose all the time, but somehow simultaneously celebrate the fragrant things in life.
To me, Brandon (the son) and Angel (the father) showed this precisely, the courage to face tragedy—not being ignorant of it—mingled with the beauty of hoping and believing in the power of good.
It is simply our lot to know both good and evil, and we must live graciously with it.
Have you watched Brandon and Angel’s conversation? What do you think of the video?