We imagine a world where life is meaningful, abundant, and joyful.
This is a beautiful dream, which gives us purpose and meaning.
But the university, particularly its executive suite, does not dream with us. They seek to transform our dreams into mere interests — the kind which can be recorded on a balance sheet, which can generate returns on debts.
They say, dreams are for the nighttime. During the day, we must work; we must be interested.
Our days might grow busy and full, as opportunities ripen around us. We can become an entrepreneur, they say. We can sell something, we can start an NGO, fly around the world, join the global conversation.
But our minds still wander. In quiet moments, we know the news — climate breakdown, escalating war, and fear.
Do the rich and powerful, with whom we are taught to shake hands and deliver petitions and resumes, not threaten to turn our very days into nightmares?
Our dreams return to us.
Dreams are powerful, we realize. Suddenly the day's work can no longer hold our interest; we think only of nighttime, dreamtime.
When the offices and university are closed, we gather. We read clever books; take care of each other. We declare a strike, shut it down, propose a revolution.
We dream together.
Welcome to dis-orientation!