Immersion & Experience vs. Learning & Knowledge

I sit writing a paper about the song “Across the Lines” by Tracy Chapman. Chapman narrates a race riot caused by the beating of an African American girl. My mind races, connecting this to riots in response to George Floyd’s murder and wondering what has and hasn’t changed. Later, I blast the same song, nodding my head in rhythm to the music. She sings “They killed the dream of America” and I experience a wave of empathy, amplified by the deep bass of the tracks, for those with less access to that dream than I. Which approach gets to the heart of the song? Which is the best way to understand the world around me? Through immersion and experience, or through learning and knowledge?

At wrestling practice, I work hard on improving my double-leg takedown. I practice my penetration step, so that I can use my weight in the most efficient way possible. When the match starts, my opponent shoots and I instinctively spin behind him, earning two points. Without practice, my opponent’s technique would outclass me, but without being present and reactive on the mat, that work can’t come to life. Combining both approaches makes me a successful competitor.

When I find out that the upcoming Model Congress bill addresses the estate tax, I set out to learn as much as possible. I talk to my dad who works in family planning to get a first hand account of how it works in practice. Online, I seek out different opinions on its pros and cons. Later that day I deliver my speech. My tone is deliberate and I pace myself to ensure my audience can follow along. I absorb my audience’s body language and adjust my speech to engage and empathize with the listener. As a legislator and advocate it will be important for me to master empathy and expertise. Appealing to people’s heads and hearts gives me the greatest chance of building coalitions and passing progressive legislation.

While founding Learning Link, an organization that aims to lower the achievement gap between wealthy students and less fortunate students, I led with my head, researching effective and realistic ways to make an impact. I decided to coordinate free extra-curricular activities for low income elementary students, tackling a lesser known factor in access to post-secondary educational opportunities. Researching and navigating the politics of Mamaroneck High School moved at a snail’s pace. But any time I lost motivation, I remembered to pause and witness the impact I was already having—the smiles of kids at Cosmos Martial Arts, and the jubilation of kids at School of Rock music academy. Affecting systemic inequality is a marathon that requires planning and research, but it’s also important to pause and appreciate positive impacts I am having on the way.

This ability to look at things both viscerally and cerebrally is rooted in my culture. I experience my Dominican culture in the moment, dancing merengue, eating pernil and platanos, and hearing about my family’s legendary trips to the DR. Jewish culture is experienced sitting in Temple, learning about faith, and the Jewish people’s historical struggle. A deeper look, though, reveals a more cohesive balance. Judaism is grounded in contemplation and quiet thought, but I also experience it doing the hora at my cousin’s bar-mitzvah and eating a big plate of hot brisket from a deli frozen in time. Dominican culture isn’t only dancing merengue with my grandmother, but also hearing about my family’s immigrant experience, and making sure that even though I pass for white, I continue to investigate my family’s mixed heritage. As a future legislator, activist, and community leader I will embrace that balance, not only relishing the opportunity to learn about the oppressive systems that persist in the United States, but basking in the shared joy of replacing those systems with a “dream of America” that actually facilitates liberty and justice for all.