Philosophy

I was shocked and devastated to receive news that Ameya Kelkar, a student in my K-1 Saturday Philosophy class had passed away unexpectedly over Spring break, 2021. In my 5 years of teaching philosophy with children, rarely have I encountered such a bright and inquisitive young person such as Ameya. His readiness to engage with a variety of topics was always apparent, and his understanding of how to join into conversations with a community of inquiry was well beyond his years. Uncommon for many younger children I have taught, he both listened attentively to the contributions of others and responded in ways that connected his own interests to the insights of his peers. He was practiced in what it means to respectfully listen to others and was always ready to share his thoughts, however tentative, on the complex issues we engaged together. I admired the empathy and courage that attended his participation. In Ameya’s last quarter with us all in class, philosophy of life emerged as a theme across our classes. We asked questions such as: What makes you, you? What does it mean to be a good friend? What does it mean to be alive? What might count as a good life? If you could live forever, would you? I am honored to have had the opportunity to know and learn from Ameya during the time he had with us. While we only interacted online, I will always remember Ameya as a inquisitive and compassionate thinker. His ability to navigate between the social, philosophical, and scientific often placed his questions and insights at the center of our collective inquiries. Ameya’s interest and knowledge in science was apparent in his responses. He often worked through our collective inquiries with reference to scientific concepts such as 2 dimensional space, the speed of light, ideas of infinity, collections of atoms, carbon-based life forms, etc. In my experience it is quite difficult for younger children to separate scientific and philosophical questions. Ameya was a standing exception to this rule. His ability to see how science and philosophy are distinct, yet related, was exceptional for his age. For example, when discussing the philosophy of living forever, Ameya was quick to connect our conversation to how time changes when you get closer to the speed of light, suggesting that the philosophical problem could be resolved in part through acceleration. Similarly, when discussing the apparent paradox of what exactly constituted “nothing” he was quick to speak of ideas such as dark matter and the space between atoms as possible ways to make sense of the conundrum. I will forever hold in high regard Ameya’s ability to understand, navigate, and bring science to bear on philosophical issues in meaningful ways. In talking about philosophy of friendship and reading The Giving Tree, I remember vividly Ameya staking and defending his claim that “any two living things could be friends”, before going on to give a comprehensive definition of what it means to be alive: to change, move, grow, and “exchange energy with other things”. Ameya’s understanding of fundamental issues such as this was always paired with an openness to the ideas of others alongside a deep and infectious sense of curiosity. At times when our group’s conversation would lul, Ameya was just as happy to sit in contemplation as he was to break the silence to share how he was making sense of whatever topic we were discussing. Ameya's sense of wonder at the world encouraged others to share their own wondering; in addition to being a student, he was frequently a teacher in his own right. Ameya was a shining example of determination, curiosity, and humility in the face of complex philosophical topics. Ameya was excited to someday join class in person - I always assumed that we’d get that time together in the future. Though we will not get the chance to meet and learn from one another in person, our short time together has had a lasting impact on my own life and teaching. Though he will never have the opportunity to join our class again, his contributions, the energy, sensitivity, and knowledge he shared, will accompany me into every future class I teach. Ameya will always be a partner in thought for me as I continue the work of thinking about big ideas with young people. I hold Ameya’s memory as I continue to do the good work, my sense of purpose sharpened by his presence and in his passing. Ameya reminds me of how important these moments and interactions can be, and how much it means for young people to have a space where they can explore the biggest, smallest, and most complex ideas they have. Ameya’s passing reminds us all of how fragile life can be, and the importance of making time to love, care for, and think with one another. I’ll spend the rest of my life honoring the pieces of his life that he shared during our time together. My love and condolence go out to the friends, family, and community to which Ameya belonged. Though Ameya is no longer with us, may you all find solace in knowing how influential Ameya was, and will continue to be. His spirit and memory lives on in the world through those he touched. With gratitude and compassion,