Context
I had a dream this morning where I was participating in some kind of multi-day animal-related activity. I couldn't tell you what because it was a dream, but when I looked outside the fence of the facility we were meeting in, I saw some people holding picket signs saying things along the lines of "Animals are not servants!" "Free the beasts!", etc. I walked up to the fence so I could get a closer look, and two dogs belonging to one of the protesters came up to me, so I started petting them and talking to them. Later, when I came out to have the barbecue dinner that was scheduled for that night, I saw that the protesters had dispersed and I was glad.
Commentary
I used to have a difficult time describing my position on animal issues, but I think I now have a phrase that makes the appropriate distinctions. I am an animal welfare activist, not an animal rights activist. To summarize, this means that I think human beings ought to be good stewards of the animals in our care, particularly domesticated ones, and that I think the people in PETA are nutcases. Refining my position further, I'll say that animal rights activists get upset about things that I think are positive, like training dogs to do service work. In fact, I think that may have been what was going on in my dream, but I can't say for sure.
I have been known to engage in formal protests, but as I grow older I find myself doing it less and less. There was a pivotal event in my life about twenty years ago that helped me see demonstrations differently. I was living in Oakland at the time, and there was some kind of political dispute going on over People's Park in Berkeley that had grown violent. As is pretty normal for me, I was on the "left" side of the dispute. Twenty years serving about the same purpose as an unconscious state, I don't remember at all the reason for the conflict.
Anyway, one day I decided I needed to go down to the Park and get involved in what was going on. I probably had a plan for what to do, and it probably involved confronting law enforcement, but when I got to downtown Berkeley, I found myself just walking around and watching what was going on. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this "seeing" thing has been going on with me for a long time. And, as I described it to my husband later, all I could see were people. No bad guys, no good guys, just people.
So I came home and thought twice about participating in protests after that. I'm not saying that being in a demonstration requires demonizing the opposition. I'm saying that hanging out with a large, or a small-but-committed, group of people that agrees with you makes it more likely you will think it's irrational to disagree with you. And that's an opinion I never want to hold.
I believe the people in my dream were surprised I was petting their dogs. They had a vision of who I was because I was participating in this event, and the vision included "hates animals." I'd like to think that they stopped their protest because they saw that the truth wasn't so black and white. Perhaps it's arrogant to think that my actions could change people's minds so quickly, but it's my dream; I can say what I want!
I'm moved by this because I've been having some other dreams lately where I get angry when someone violates a closely-held belief of mine, and my expressions of anger never accomplish any good end. This latest dip into my subconscious let me see the other side: when I emphasize relationships over principles (I could've just ignored the protesters and gone about my business), good things happen.
This is what occurred to me when I woke from my dream: God doesn't love principles; God loves people. The Bible doesn't actually say that anywhere, but I can't draw any other reasonable conclusions from the contradictory threads of Jesus' life and ministry. Specifically, I think that's what he meant when He said the Sabbath was made for people, not the other way around. Principles are not bad, any more that sincerely-intended political protests are. You just can't let them get in the way of the important stuff.
What did you see today?
7/31/2010
7/27/2010
I saw myself get angry
Context
My husband and I are traveling back from a vacation in Richmond on the Amtrak Crescent. A little before 4:00, the hostess from the dining car came around to inform us that dinner would be served at 4:30. We thought this was silly for a couple of reasons, including the fact that the train was running late. We tried to express this to her, but she appeared to be "on script" and not interested in what we were saying. I got angry, and after she left I told my husband I didn't want dinner because I didn't want to have to deal with her. She apparently heard me, because she came back to our bedroom to try to explain the situation again, but I blew her off. After some discussion with my husband, I went to the dining car (at 4:30!) and apologized to her for complaining behind her back.
Commentary
Really? The context wasn't painful enough, you want commentary? OK, here are some random thoughts:
I really do love train travel, but this particular trip has had its hiccups.
My husband is my conscience a great deal of the time.
I've had several obvious "message from God" dreams lately and at first I interpreted them as pertaining to hospitality. The more I consider them, however, the more I realize they're about anger and they come with a bright neon message: anger throws up a barrier between me and my basic beliefs about what's important, like hospitality and building relationships through good communication.
What did you see today?
My husband and I are traveling back from a vacation in Richmond on the Amtrak Crescent. A little before 4:00, the hostess from the dining car came around to inform us that dinner would be served at 4:30. We thought this was silly for a couple of reasons, including the fact that the train was running late. We tried to express this to her, but she appeared to be "on script" and not interested in what we were saying. I got angry, and after she left I told my husband I didn't want dinner because I didn't want to have to deal with her. She apparently heard me, because she came back to our bedroom to try to explain the situation again, but I blew her off. After some discussion with my husband, I went to the dining car (at 4:30!) and apologized to her for complaining behind her back.
Commentary
Really? The context wasn't painful enough, you want commentary? OK, here are some random thoughts:
I really do love train travel, but this particular trip has had its hiccups.
My husband is my conscience a great deal of the time.
I've had several obvious "message from God" dreams lately and at first I interpreted them as pertaining to hospitality. The more I consider them, however, the more I realize they're about anger and they come with a bright neon message: anger throws up a barrier between me and my basic beliefs about what's important, like hospitality and building relationships through good communication.
What did you see today?
7/08/2010
I saw an article about incentives
Context
Duplicate issues of magazines the library receives are kept in the staff lounge. The April 19th edition of Time, had a cover story about the results of and reactions to a series of economics experiments giving cash incentives to students in public schools. Read the article here, if you like.
What I read of the article discussed the scientific rigor behind the experiments, conducted by Roland Fryer, Jr. of Harvard, and their varied results. It also pointed that many people really disliked the idea that they were being conducted at all. Educators in particular wanted students to develop a love of learning, not constantly have a hand out for tangible rewards. On the other hand, the writer for Time said, "most adults work primarily for money, and in a curious way, we seem to be holding kids to a higher standard than we hold ourselves." I stopped reading at that point.
Commentary
Just to kick things off, I'd like to give kudos to Time for their online archive. It is remarkably easy to find and use, and that's something librarians care deeply about.
I didn't stop reading the article because I was disgusted with the subject matter; I found it fascinating. Too fascinating, because as soon as I got to the "most adults work primarily for money" line I had to stop and think about incentives in my own life for a good ten to fifteen minutes.
Money almost never works as an incentive to me. I have taken jobs in the past just to pay the bills, but you could have given me million-dollar bonuses and I still wouldn't have done them particularly well or with any enthusiasm. In fact, my dad gave me cash for good grades a couple of times when I was in high school, and although I didn't turn them down, my internal attitude was pretty much "Yeah, whatever."
The good opinion of others works, but only from people I respect, and there aren't a whole lot of those on the planet. With the distance of years I've developed some real sympathy for people whom I didn't care for who were trying to get me to do stuff. Even when they went the punishment route, as some educators did, they found that in my perverse way I usually considered that a badge of honor.
I remember love of learning being an incentive for me, especially when I first entered school and, ironically enough, when I went to grad school in my mid-thirties. But I also remember that throughout my educational career I put special effort into any assignment I considered interesting or worthy of my talents. And I'd be willing to bet that's true of most people. The problem is, it's a moving target; what's interesting to me is deadly dull to others (Shall I talk to you about controlled vocabularies again?). And of course, my talents are different from yours.
I still believe it's a goal worth pursuing. In fact, in human resources and training materials I often read about the need to personalize rewards to the individual worker's values and goals, rather than taking a one-type-fits-all approach. So if we're going to adopt a business-type model for education, I'd rather we go with that one. And if money is what works for some students (sigh!), then why not start handing it out, if only to help them see that their individual opinions have worth? As Dr. Fryer says, let's try "treat[ing] kids not as inanimate objects but as human beings who behave in interesting ways."
What did you see today?
Duplicate issues of magazines the library receives are kept in the staff lounge. The April 19th edition of Time, had a cover story about the results of and reactions to a series of economics experiments giving cash incentives to students in public schools. Read the article here, if you like.
What I read of the article discussed the scientific rigor behind the experiments, conducted by Roland Fryer, Jr. of Harvard, and their varied results. It also pointed that many people really disliked the idea that they were being conducted at all. Educators in particular wanted students to develop a love of learning, not constantly have a hand out for tangible rewards. On the other hand, the writer for Time said, "most adults work primarily for money, and in a curious way, we seem to be holding kids to a higher standard than we hold ourselves." I stopped reading at that point.
Commentary
Just to kick things off, I'd like to give kudos to Time for their online archive. It is remarkably easy to find and use, and that's something librarians care deeply about.
I didn't stop reading the article because I was disgusted with the subject matter; I found it fascinating. Too fascinating, because as soon as I got to the "most adults work primarily for money" line I had to stop and think about incentives in my own life for a good ten to fifteen minutes.
Money almost never works as an incentive to me. I have taken jobs in the past just to pay the bills, but you could have given me million-dollar bonuses and I still wouldn't have done them particularly well or with any enthusiasm. In fact, my dad gave me cash for good grades a couple of times when I was in high school, and although I didn't turn them down, my internal attitude was pretty much "Yeah, whatever."
The good opinion of others works, but only from people I respect, and there aren't a whole lot of those on the planet. With the distance of years I've developed some real sympathy for people whom I didn't care for who were trying to get me to do stuff. Even when they went the punishment route, as some educators did, they found that in my perverse way I usually considered that a badge of honor.
I remember love of learning being an incentive for me, especially when I first entered school and, ironically enough, when I went to grad school in my mid-thirties. But I also remember that throughout my educational career I put special effort into any assignment I considered interesting or worthy of my talents. And I'd be willing to bet that's true of most people. The problem is, it's a moving target; what's interesting to me is deadly dull to others (Shall I talk to you about controlled vocabularies again?). And of course, my talents are different from yours.
I still believe it's a goal worth pursuing. In fact, in human resources and training materials I often read about the need to personalize rewards to the individual worker's values and goals, rather than taking a one-type-fits-all approach. So if we're going to adopt a business-type model for education, I'd rather we go with that one. And if money is what works for some students (sigh!), then why not start handing it out, if only to help them see that their individual opinions have worth? As Dr. Fryer says, let's try "treat[ing] kids not as inanimate objects but as human beings who behave in interesting ways."
What did you see today?
7/02/2010
I saw a comment on social standing
Context
It is often the case that when I want to understand a problem better, I find a book on the topic. So now I'm in the middle of reading a book by Hilde Bruch called Conversations with Anorexics. This is a quote I read today: "Paula then went into much detail about the pain of growing up in a small town where she felt not recognized as belonging to a leading family."
Commentary
I grew up in one of the biggest cities in the world. And in a very small town. Let me explain: my family moved to Mexico City when I was eight years old, but because we're Americans most of our social interactions took place within the sizable-for-what-it-is, but still small, English-speaking community.
So my view of my place in the community during those years was different from what it would have been if I'd grown up in the country of my birth where nearly everyone spoke the same language I did. Here's an example: I went to the American School, an expensive, private, college-prep school, which my father's employer paid for as an incentive to accept a foreign assignment. While there, I socialized with the children of diplomats, high-level Mexican government officials (the college prep applied to both U.S. and Mexican institutions), missionaries, and others. These are the kind of people I would have never encountered at the public school a mile away from our family's home in Michigan.
The thing is, at the American School we didn't arrange ourselves according to the social strata our parents belonged to. This may be typical of kids thrown together everywhere, but we used kid standards (athletic prowess, physical beauty, what passes for sophistication when you're twelve, etc.) for status, not adult ones. I went out on a date with the son of the Mexican Secretary of Tourism one time. He was as low on the socially awkward totem pole as I was. On the other hand, there were girls in my social circle who used to belittle my ineptness all the time. It was only with time that I discovered two important realities:
1) My dad was their dad's boss.
2) I was going on to college. They were going back to rural Michigan to get married and have babies.
I am very grateful to my parents for the opportunity to grow up this way. I still feel a little out of place in my native culture (Why oh why don't you people kiss each other to say "Hello"?), but I think it gave me a good perspective on the malleability of social structure and an ability to be comfortable in my own skin under almost any circumstances. And I speak Spanish reasonably well.
¿ Que ha visto usted hoy?
It is often the case that when I want to understand a problem better, I find a book on the topic. So now I'm in the middle of reading a book by Hilde Bruch called Conversations with Anorexics. This is a quote I read today: "Paula then went into much detail about the pain of growing up in a small town where she felt not recognized as belonging to a leading family."
Commentary
I grew up in one of the biggest cities in the world. And in a very small town. Let me explain: my family moved to Mexico City when I was eight years old, but because we're Americans most of our social interactions took place within the sizable-for-what-it-is, but still small, English-speaking community.
So my view of my place in the community during those years was different from what it would have been if I'd grown up in the country of my birth where nearly everyone spoke the same language I did. Here's an example: I went to the American School, an expensive, private, college-prep school, which my father's employer paid for as an incentive to accept a foreign assignment. While there, I socialized with the children of diplomats, high-level Mexican government officials (the college prep applied to both U.S. and Mexican institutions), missionaries, and others. These are the kind of people I would have never encountered at the public school a mile away from our family's home in Michigan.
The thing is, at the American School we didn't arrange ourselves according to the social strata our parents belonged to. This may be typical of kids thrown together everywhere, but we used kid standards (athletic prowess, physical beauty, what passes for sophistication when you're twelve, etc.) for status, not adult ones. I went out on a date with the son of the Mexican Secretary of Tourism one time. He was as low on the socially awkward totem pole as I was. On the other hand, there were girls in my social circle who used to belittle my ineptness all the time. It was only with time that I discovered two important realities:
1) My dad was their dad's boss.
2) I was going on to college. They were going back to rural Michigan to get married and have babies.
I am very grateful to my parents for the opportunity to grow up this way. I still feel a little out of place in my native culture (Why oh why don't you people kiss each other to say "Hello"?), but I think it gave me a good perspective on the malleability of social structure and an ability to be comfortable in my own skin under almost any circumstances. And I speak Spanish reasonably well.
¿ Que ha visto usted hoy?
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