My maternal grandmother died from cancer in a room she shared with my cousin, in my aunt’s house. The hands which took care of her belonged to those she knew and loved and who loved her—until the end. My parents currently care for my baby niece. This allowed my sister, a medical doctor, to return to work after maternity leave. These dynamics are ways my family has continued to live our version of the Iraqi village here in the West.

Leslie Loftis touched on a singular and important issue in “Feminism and the Razing of the Village”: feminism has contributed to the disappearance of the historical support structures in American society. To fill the gap and subdue the cries of women, the Left pushes for government to take up family’s lost role. In light of Loftis’s call for rebuilding “village” wherever we can find it, I would like to draw out wisdom from the Christian subculture that once existed in Iraq.

In spite of its political problems and recent subdual into near oblivion, there is much we in the West can learn from Christian culture in Iraq, a civilization which valued and honored the institutions of marriage and family, albeit not perfectly. The Islamic State has destroyed what was left of my mother land, but it has not erased its traditions from my memory. It is in the hopes of ameliorating this culture in which I am now raising my family, this country which I call my home, that I offer these insights.

Why Feminism Didn’t ‘Take’ in Iraq

The bulk of the disparity I have seen between the Iraqi Christian culture and the American culture is in family structure and formation: America, and the West in general, centers on what is called the nuclear family (mom and dad in the center, with some children orbiting about). Iraqi culture (Muslim and Christian) centers on households (nuclear family plus extended family) living together or in close proximity and taking care of each other. And, yes, minding each other’s business. Hence, the social structure of the society was built on something sturdier—the social unit of multigenerational households.

Within this paradigm, the decisions of those living within a particular household would be evaluated against the best interest of the household as a whole, with less individual autonomy than we Westerners are used to (or are comfortable with). This, I believe, is a key to explaining why Iraqi culture never did go the way of the American culture, though some feminist ideas trickled in—most often imported by men and women who had studied abroad in the West. I’m not suggesting there were no Iraqi families living in the nuclear style, there were, but a) it wasn’t as prevalent and b) they still tended to stay close to and sometimes rely on relatives.

The sexual revolution as we know it in America did not get so much as a toe in the door in Iraq. The reasoning behind this may surprise American people. It was for many of the same reasons the Roman Catholic Church gave in that most prophetic and beautiful encyclical, Humanae Vitae:

Let them first consider how easily this course of action could open wide the way for marital infidelity and a general lowering of moral standards. Not much experience is needed to be fully aware of human weakness and to understand that human beings—and especially the young, who are so exposed to temptation—need incentives to keep the moral law, and it is an evil thing to make it easy for them to break that law. Another effect that gives cause for alarm is that a man who grows accustomed to the use of contraceptive methods may forget the reverence due to a woman, and, disregarding her physical and emotional equilibrium, reduce her to being a mere instrument for the satisfaction of his own desires, no longer considering her as his partner whom he should surround with care and affection.

As the philosophies of the West came in little by little, they were tempered by Middle Eastern identity and cultural values. Some theories hit that wall hard and smashed, such as the idea of legal abortions, premarital sex, and mass use of the Pill. This is not to say that some folks didn’t bring these ideas into the country. They did. As a matter of fact, in 1976, Iraq—one of the more Westernized and advanced Arab countries—had over-the-counter oral contraceptives. But primarily because of a traditional understanding of sex as between a husband and a wife, none of these things really took off. The consequences we are seeing in this country didn’t play out because the masses did not swallow these “new” and “liberating” ideas hook line and sinker. In terms of cultural norms, sex and sexual identity remained immovable—sex was between one man and one woman inside marriage. Full stop.

Educated Women Benefit Close Families

Higher education for women did see significant changes from these Western ideas (before the wars). That idea was also tempered by Middle Eastern Christian identity and cultural values, and filtered in as a way to benefit the entire household and, beyond that, society. Unlike the anti-establishment, anti-authoritarian stance of Second Wave Feminism, the families and women of Iraq saw higher education and freedoms of women as opportunities for a woman to better herself and her family, including the extended family. So instead of an educated female element of the workforce acting to tear apart families, the outcome brought families together—raising up the quality of life for the whole household.

My great-aunt was married when she was honored as the top OB-GYN student in medical school. Subsequently, she was sent abroad to further her medical training. My great-uncle, also an OB-GYN, went with her to help and support her. Her mother stayed back in Iraq to care for their baby daughter. At the end of her time abroad, she returned to Iraq in possession of advanced training. As she worked, she gave back to her family and her family continued to give to her. She was able to work without the guilt and worry of her Western peers. Her family was there to care for her, her husband, and her children. She contributed to the society around her—for many years she and my great-uncle were well known and respected OB-GYNs in Baghdad. And it just so happened that she brought me into the world.

Each member of an Iraqi household relies on all the others. Each member plays a role according to his or her age and stage in life. The entire household is better off economically due to the resources those working outside it bring. These resources stay within the family to better everyone because none of it is necessary for day care, elder care, etc. This may sound selfish to the jaded skeptic, but it’s not. This dynamic is fueled by love and service between the family members. Were there exceptions? Of course! Are there examples of dysfunctions and difficulties in this model? Obviously.

A Village Where the Elderly also Contribute and Benefit

Although Iraq was a socialist country, this did not seem to impact the family as it did in Western countries. The Middle Eastern family and societal ethos requires that we take care of our own elderly. My aunt stayed in Iraq to care for my paternal grandparents. She endured the care and dying of both of my grandparents, her parents. (It wasn’t until the 2000s that there were any nursing homes in Baghdad. There may currently be two, due to economic and family breakdown and death from the wars.) Before the most recent times, no one would think to drop off an aging relative at a nursing home, and this thought was so prevalent that no enterprising businessman or government bureaucrat would think to try building one. It was understood by both the Muslims and Christians that it was a family’s responsibility to care for each other.

This wasn’t purely a burden, either. No one would think of retirement communities and nursing homes because the grandparents were also such a vital part of the household. They provided care for the children and took part in the children’s educational and spiritual formation. As they were able, grandparents helped with the cooking and upkeep of the home. When my parents received their first teaching assignment, it was at a village an hour away from Baghdad, which back then was a big deal. My maternal grandfather came and stayed three days each week to help out. The elderly were “keepers of the home”—keeper as in guardian, curator, or overseer. These old guardians were useful and contributing members of households and, hence, of society, until they lay dying and passed the baton.

Because of their family living and support model, even women who were at home were not as isolated or overburdened. Everyone helped with rearing children. In what would be equivalent to middle-class households, most women were highly educated and worked. The divorce rate for Christians was essentially nonexistent, not only because of faith and family pressure, but because husbands and wives had a lot of support. This prevented many of the kind of stressful situations we see in nuclear families that tend to lead to exhaustion, explosion, and divorce.

A True Village Comes at a Cost

Everything has a cost. There is a cost to setting others above our personal desires and dreams. There is a cost to living with aging parents. There is a cost to giving up 20 years of life to be at home nurturing and caring for the bodies and souls of little children. There is a cost to getting pressure from family members not to get divorced and sticking through a desert season in marriage, and so on. In a society that seeks to bond together more closely for its greater good and the good of it progeny, everyone must pay a cost.

We in the West have encountered costs for our individualism, selfishness, self-actualization, and the route of light responsibility. These costs include a society which scoffs at and spurns fecundity, traditional marriage between a man and a woman, monogamy, celibacy, and so forth. It is a society where abortion, divorce, out-of-wedlock pregnancies, sexually transmitted diseases, latch-key children, and the like are even considered normative, not discretionary costs of individualism. When these ills are recognized as problems, often our reflex is to add other costs: of taxes, spending, and civil (rather than voluntary individual) curtailment of liberties.

Again, my intention is not to idealize one culture while demonizing another. Iraqi Christian culture doesn’t even really exist anymore. It was bombed away—now there’s nothing but rubble, dirt, and poverty left. I know there is much good within Western culture. My goal is to start a conversation on how we in the West can learn from those in the East regarding the family.

It may be helpful to take some of these ideas and start looking for a way to incorporate them into our society, families, parishes, and institutions. It’s quite possible that one way forward is to invest time in thinking of practical ways local communities, churches, and institutions can band together to form sturdier bonds—helping each other with childcare, eldercare, shopping, cooking, education, and the like. But before we can move toward that, we have to be willing to ask ourselves if we can let go of that go-it-alone independent spirit that is ubiquitous in our culture. Certain practical decisions may come out of this re-thinking of our way of life. Some of us may decide to move closer to extended family. Others may decide to take in an aging parent, aunt, or uncle. For others, it may mean helping friends with childcare or offering to go shopping for them. In whatever form some of these ideas take shape, I think it is time to rebuild the American village through millions of acts of grace and individual sacrifice.

Few things are scarier than 4Chan. But our readers told a few stories that spooked us.

Paul van der Werf

Earlier this week, we asked readers to share their most frightening tales of technology terror and support horror. And via both comments and Twitter (using the hashtag #ITTalesofTerror), in poured stories that raised goosebumps from those of us who have worked in IT at one point or another.

After reading through them, we’ve picked out some reader favorites and a few of our own. Some of us at Ars were inspired to recount further tales of horror from our own IT careers—including one of mine that I’ve saved for last; it should cause a shudder of recognition from our more veteran readers and a bit of schadenfreude from those too young to remember five-and-a-quarter-inch floppy disks.

The chamber of horrors

Many readers had short tales of terror about mishaps in the closed spaces where we hide our network infrastructure. Eli Jacobowitz (@creepdr on Twitter) shared a short, shocking scenario by tweet: “Raccoons in the network closet (not kidding).” David Mohundro shared another story of a somewhat more smelly infrastructure invasion that brings new meaning to “data scrubbing”: “I saw our IT guys lugging shop vacs through the lower parking deck one day. There was a sewage backup into the server room.”

Read 24 remaining paragraphs | Comments

Good grammar is essential to a happy life. That’s the simple but revolutionary premise behind “Gwynne’s Grammar: The Ultimate Introduction to Grammar and the Writing of Good English,” a surprise bestseller in Great Britain that has just been published in America.

“In order to think, you need words. Words are vocabulary. In order to think correctly, you need to use the words correctly. Thus, grammar is completely essential to everything else. If you don’t think right, there’s not one human activity—even playing poker or bridge—that you will do right,” says the book’s author, Neville M. Gwynne.

A graduate of Eton College and Oxford University, Gwynne, 72, takes an old-fashioned approach to teaching and makes no apologies for it. “I am teaching grammar the way it was taught to me and the way it was taught to everybody until my day. It’s the way Aristotle was taught grammar and the way Cicero was taught grammar,” he says.

“Gwynne’s Grammar” provides all the fundamentals, but also takes time to explain why grammar is so important and the best ways to study it. Gwynne argues extensive memorization is crucial.

Thank Progressives for Bad Grammar

“Nowadays nobody knows what a noun is, and nobody knows when to use a comma and not to use a comma. When I was young, anybody, no matter what social rank, could write a perfectly spelled, perfectly paragraphed, perfectly punctuated letter of two or three pages,” he says.

He blames the dramatic decline on Progressive, child-centered theories of education John Dewey promoted in America. Dewey’s ideas were adopted in England in the 1960s, and quickly swept through every school in the land. That includes top private schools such as Eton, Gwynne’s alma mater—and the alma mater of princes William and Harry and 19 British prime Ministers.

Gwynne is just old enough to have dodged the modern teaching revolution. “I am incredibly grateful to have been sent to Eton—the greatest school in the world, I suppose—and I had a wonderful education there. Today, I wouldn’t touch it with a barge pole, and I beg the parents who I’m involved with not to do it,” he says.

Surprisingly, British people have been snapping up copies of a book that heaps scorn on the education most of them received. “Gwynne’s Grammar” has topped several bestseller lists. Prince Charles wrote to Gwynne to congratulate him.

From Teaching Latin to Rhyming Poetry

No one is more surprised than Gwynne himself. His book’s route to bestsellerdom was hardly straightforward. It all started when he was teaching Latin to the children of Tom Hodgkinson, founder of the Idler Academy, a book shop and training center in London with a small press. “[Hodgkinson] was so fascinated by the English grammar I was teaching his children in order to teach them Latin grammar. He suddenly said, ‘Neville, put this into a book! We’ll call it ‘Gwynne’s Grammar’ and I’ll publish it.’” The first edition of “Gwynne’s Grammar” sold a modest few hundred copies. Then the head of Ebury Publishing, part of the Random House Group, noticed it in a catalogue and got in touch. Gwynne wrote an expanded version, and sales took off.

In April this year, Ebury published “Gwynne’s Latin.” At one point, the Daily Telegraph newspaper’s bestseller list featured “Gwynne’s Latin” at number one and “Gwynne’s Grammar” at number two. He is currently writing his third book, “Gwynne’s Kings and Queens of England.”

The American edition of “Gwynne’s Grammar,” published in September, has been expanded in several areas. Gwynne is particularly happy with a new chapter on how to write poetry. That may seem like an odd addition, but Gwynne argues that such chapters were standard features of most grammar books until about 100 years ago. “If people in America become aware of this chapter, they will find it jolly interesting,” he says. “I took a lot of trouble over that chapter. I actually say that, contrary to modern wisdom, poetry that doesn’t rhyme and scan in a regular meter is not poetry.”

“The modern poetry started by T.S. Eliot and Ezra Pound is so much pernicious, damaging rubbish,” he says. “People who actually want to make money out of their poetry, like the writers of songs in musical comedies or pop songs, they jolly well make sure their stuff rhymes and scans. They don’t mess around. They know that that’s what works and speaks to the heart.”

An Unlikely Teacher

Gwynne’s route to a career in teaching and writing was as unexpected as the success of his books. After graduating from Oxford, he became a chartered accountant. He rose quickly at a major global company called Slater Walker before starting his own business, which was also successful. In the 1980s, he decided to retire “for a number of reasons, but one of them was that business was becoming more difficult because there was so much red tape ever increasing. I could never start up a business now the way I started one up then.”

A couple years into retirement, he began some freelance teaching in various subjects to earn, what he calls, “a little bit of pocket money.” Over time, his main subject became Latin, and he has taught it to children as young as ages two or three. “They’re lovely because at that age you’re teaching them ‘eenie-meenie-miny-moe.’ So why not teach them amo, amas, amat, amamus, amatis, amant? My aim with children is that by the time they reach the age of reason, which is sort of seven or eight, they know all their Latin grammar by heart and have loved learning it. And then they’re ready to apply it in translating,” he says.

He believes studying Latin will improve students’ results in all their other subjects. “What Latin teaches you is how to concentrate, to remember what you need to remember, and to carefully analyze every detail. It teaches you to keep going as long as it takes to solve the problem,” he says. “All these things are character things.”

Little Alternative to Homeschooling

To complete his third book on time, Gwynne has passed on most his teaching to his daughter, Chloe Gwynne, who follows his methods exactly. They are hiring another teacher to meet growing demand. Most of their work is done via Skype. Their website, Gwynne Teaching, contains some videos of their teaching style. Pupils range from retired adults to children who need an extra hour of tutoring after school to homeschoolers.

Gwynne reluctantly welcomes the growth of homeschooling. “It’s not because I like the idea. It’s because there is no alternative,” he says. In his opinion, one of the primary benefits of homeschooling is that it shields children from harmful influences. “What goes on in schools now is unbelievable with what they have access to on the Internet,” he says. “What you want to do for a child is to preserve its innocence for as long as possible. So that by the age of 17 or 18, the child has formed enough good habits that it’s proof against temptation. Modern childhood theory is that you should expose a child to temptation as much as possible so it can learn to cope with it. It doesn’t work like that. I was a child once. If I was exposed to temptation, I would have jumped into it.”

Through his books, teaching, and occasional public lectures, Gwynne is continuing his campaign for old-fashioned methods of education and child-rearing. He has no doubts about the justice of his cause. “All my standpoints sound radical, but I am in the majority,” he says. “I am the normal personal historically. There’s nothing new about me.”

Neville M. Gwynne can be contacted through his website, Gwynne Teaching. “Gwynne’s Grammar: The Ultimate Introduction to Grammar and the Writing of Good English” is available at Amazon.com.

I converted to Roman Catholicism almost a decade ago. At the time, nobody was talking about wars on women, so when I read about Catholic prohibitions on birth control, I naively supposed that most Catholic women actually followed the Church’s teachings on birth control. It’s right there in the Catechism, after all. Reading some books on the subject, I decided there was a lot of merit in this idea about the contraceptive-free life. My husband and I (both Catholic converts) gave it a go.

Imagine how pious I felt when the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services demanded that employers pay for employees’ contraception, and the media clued me in to the fact that I was part of an elite squad. The 2 percent. The Catholic Mom Marine Corps. The Barefoot and Pregnant Dream Team.

Now that everyone is talking about contraceptives, I get lots of chances to out myself as a Catholic freak. Many people are quite amazed to meet a pants-wearing, educated woman who actually favors the contraceptive-free life. I get lots of amusing questions. And it’s National NFP Awareness Week, so an opportune time to talk about chemical-free contraception. Here then, for our readers’ benefit, are the FAQ.

1. Are there really Catholics who take this contraceptive rule seriously? Including ones who can read?

Sure. Among committed and orthodox Catholics, the Church’s teachings on sexual ethics are taken very seriously. Of course, we don’t go around searching one another’s medicine cabinets, but in social circles of serious Catholics I find it’s generally taken for granted that married couples will adhere to this teaching. I know many highly educated and accomplished Catholic women who live contraceptive-free. It’s not just a rule for us. It’s a whole different approach to life and sex and marriage.

Of course, there are also lots of lukewarm Catholics who can’t be bothered about what the Church says. Still others think of themselves as faithful Catholics, but get most of their cues from the popular culture, which convinced them that the whole no-contraceptives rule was effectively dead letter. For a long time the clergy mostly went along with this, and lots of people have told me their priest or deacon told them back in the day that artificial contraceptives were “no big deal.”

Those people have recently gotten a bit of a rude awakening. It didn’t come from Rome. It came from progressive liberals who insisted on pressing the point. People who thought they were (mostly) on the side of the angels were suddenly shocked themselves in bed with Ruth Bader Ginsburg. By picking a fight with the Church, progressives inadvertently taught many Catholics, yes, the Church does still care about contraceptives.

2. Do natural methods of delaying pregnancy really work? Or are contraceptive-free couples liable to end up with 15 kids?

The rationale behind natural fertility methods is fairly straightforward. A man’s fertility tends to stay fairly constant from one day to the next, but a woman is typically fertile for just a few days each month. The trick, then, is to figure out which days those are by observing external physiological signs. That information can be used either to achieve a pregnancy or to delay it.

Does this “work” for everyone? As a practicing Catholic I feel honor-bound to say it can, and I think that’s technically true. Realistically though, some people’s physiology reads like an article in The Federalist (Clear prose! Incisive logic!), and others more like an Egyptian hieroglyph or at least a column in the Huffington Post. If you fit into the former category, natural family planning (NFP) is a wonderful tool, and may well save you from years’ worth of artificial hormones and other unpleasant things. If you’re in the latter set, that’s a tougher row to hoe.

One particular frustration relates to the fact that major physiological events (like pregnancy or childbirth) understandably interrupt the body’s natural rhythms. That makes it especially difficult to judge when you might be fertile. The upshot is that it’s hardest to employ the method at precisely the times you most want it.

As someone firmly in the Egyptian-hieroglyph category, I understand how stressful it can be to be constantly wondering whether you are or might be pregnant. Still, nobody’s physiology is a completely closed book. Pretty much any woman can learn to identify at least occasional periods in which she almost certainly is not fertile. After that, it’s your call how much you want to trust to probability (or, if you prefer, Divine Providence).

Let’s not forget, though, that artificial birth control is also less than 100 percent effective. At least we Catholics know when we’re cracking the door for another possible family addition.

3. Doesn’t it bother you to feel that your Church and Catholic community regard you as a “breeder”?

My Church and community see my natural capacity for fostering new life as a wonderful thing. So no, that doesn’t bother me.

I find that most non-contracepting women have similar feelings. They call the contraceptive-free life “empowering” and “freeing.” It pleases them that their womb is regarded as a feature of their body and not a bug. They like it when their pregnancies occasion celebration rather than criticism.

The term “breeder” implies that a fertile woman should be valued (like livestock) more for her physical capacities than for her virtue or rationality or other human excellences. That is indeed offensive. But of course, nobody actually uses that word except progressive liberals. No conservative friend has ever confused me for my reproductive system.

I understand why some women are afraid that a perpetual proclivity to pregnancy might be used as an excuse to prevent them from pursuing other goals. But some of us (call us dreamers!) think it’s possible to stay committed to personal excellence without suppressing our body’s natural rhythms. We can breed without being “breeders,” just as we can eat without being “eaters” and sleep without being fundamentally dormant. All of the body’s natural capacities can be incorporated into a well-lived life.

I would also note that we “breeders” employ our rational faculties quite a lot in understanding and appreciating our fertility, and in using that information for our own and our family’s benefit. Many other people just try to medicate their natural fertility away. I’m not sure we’re the ones who are slave to our physiology.

4. Do friends and family think you’re crazy?

I imagine some of them do. They’re pretty tactful. When we had two babies 15 months apart, we did get some reactions, and that interval once precipitated a hilarious conversation in which an acquaintance told me how well I was handling my “crisis pregnancy.” Oh, modern world.

Once kids are born and named and flashing adorable grins, most people decide it’s all right for them to stay. I don’t lose any sleep over whether people secretly think my husband and I are weird.

5. Doesn’t it stress your marriage to live contraceptive-free?

Of course. Kids will always stress a marriage. So will practically any other worthwhile project that you and your spouse undertake.

However, it’s also true that living without contraceptives constantly underscores our fundamental belief that our married life has a purpose. We didn’t get hitched just in order to make the world stand around cooing over our shared passion for football, Thai food and philosophy. As we see it, we’ve been commissioned as family-builders and transmitters of human life. All the other joys and sorrows and headaches and heartaches that our shared life brings us must be understood in that context.

Contraceptive-free life has its challenges, but it constantly reminds spouses of their mutual commitment to the project. And couples who do it very rarely call it quits.

6. Are you hoping to end up with 15 kids?

As God wills. But also, no.

7. Don’t you sometimes wonder whether you could do something more interesting with your life, rather than having all these babies?

All right, so nobody ever asks me that point-blank.  But it’s sometimes implied in other gently probing questions that people ask, about whether I’m fulfilled, or “really doing what I want” or “adequately using my education”. That sort of thing.

It could be taken as an insult. I’m generally not too bothered. I understand how it might seem like motherhood has taken me off the fast track. Also, I’m not above feeling flattered when people imply that’s where I belong.

However, I don’t feel like I waste very much time. As demanding commitments go, I see the contraceptive-free life as a great value. I’m surprised how rarely people appreciate this. When I reflect on the lives of other people I know, I note how many there are who pour enormous resources into getting degrees they don’t use, or agonizing over that next little promotion, or weathering the heartache of multiple failed relationships as they search relentlessly for their soulmate. What do these people have to show for all their trouble?

I have three healthy children. A happy marriage. A supportive community. Fulfilling outlets as a writer and teacher. I also bake fresh bread, grow lovely tomatoes, and know by name multiple volunteers at our local children’s museum, and I still manage to play Fantasy Football and keep up with the news. Apart from that, I suppose my life is kind of a waste, but I don’t have time to worry about it when dinner’s on the stove and the azaleas need pruning. Check back in 20 years and I’m sure I’ll be more remorseful.

Truthfully, I know that I’m greatly blessed. I couldn’t have such a wonderful life without a supportive husband, family, community, and Church.  If people suggest that I’m unusually blessed, I’ll happily concur. Why then do people imply instead that I’m unusually repressed? These are the mysteries.