Hunger

“Desire is filthy, barefoot, and homeless; it always sleeps in the dirt, in the open air, in doorways and in the street.”

- Diotema, in Plato’s Symposium

Helena has a new favorite song, at least in the morning, when she is elated to be alive.  It's a kind of funk carioca, an adaptation of funk developed in the favelas of Rio de Janeiro, but this one for kids.  And, oddly enough, it's about hunger.  You can listen to it here (even if you don't understand the words, the rhythm is catchy enough that you'll understand why Helena likes to dance to it.)

Homelessness and hunger play an important role in a lot of early philosophy, not just Diotema's quote above, which sees the philosopher in a kind of desperate poverty as he desires knowledge and wisdom, but also Socrates himself, who might have been considered homeless (and, quite frankly, crazy) by a lot of professional social workers today.  Diogenes the Cynic (not to be confused with the way we understand cynicism today, Cynicism was actually a very sincere movement, trying to take seriously the idea that the philosopher needed only the love of wisdom, and no possession more, to be happy) even lived in a barrel on the streets of Athens, where he famously insulted Alexander the Great for placing more value on possessions and conquest than on the values taught by his mentor, Aristotle.

I was explaining this to Helena Iara yesterday as we took an afternoon walk to the park, where homeless people in Santa Fe tend to hang out (since the Bush-inspired Great Recession, the number of homeless men and women has skyrocketed in Santa Fe, though (fortunately) the number of kids has not), when we ran across a virulent argument among an Indian woman and a hispanic man, both of whom seemed, from the dress, to lack homes to which they might return.  At first, it appeared that it was merely an angry dispute, full of curses and offense, full of sound and fury but signifying nothing.  I wanted to walk past them quickly.

As we listened, however (unavoidable, because of the volume of the argument), we heard something else: "What, you don't want me to stand up for myself?"

"I meant you should..."

"I should have a backbone, and that means standing up to you, too."

We didn't hear much more.  Standing around to listen would have been rude.  Even so, that brief exchange, for all of the vulgarity I deleted, showed that philosophy is alive on the street.  It's a conversation about dignity, courage, and meaning, however crouched in words that most academic philosophers might not use on a daily basis.

When I left Harvard, largely because I despaired at the lack of intellectual curiosity there, I was excited to see that ideas really mattered to kids living on the street.  When you're fifteen and sleeping under a bridge, you want to know what's the meaning of life to give you a reason to go on another day.  That, I explained to Helena, is why Diotema is talking about hunger, and why a funk song for children might be more than just fun.