Context
A colleague at the library I work at sent me an e-mail asking if I would remind people how important it is to do proper data entry when registering patrons for library cards. I replied back both my apology that this would fall outside the scope of my job duties and my opinion that if just reminding people of the importance of a task was enough to ensure perfect execution of it, airplanes would never crash.
Commentary
I think there is a sweet spot where we do our best work on any given task. When we're first learning, we're very careful, but we make mistakes because we don't understand everything we're doing. Later on, when we understand both the procedures and the logic behind them really well, we think we can do the task with our eyes closed and the carelessness bugaboo emerges. Somewhere in between we probably produce outstanding work a couple of times.
I can see a couple of ways to fight this problem. One is cross-training, or at least, task variation. If we only do something once a month, rather than 20 times a day, there's the potential for it to seem a little bit unfamiliar each time we do it, maybe enough to make us work carefully. At the very least, we don't grow so resentful of the repetition that we switch off our brains. Balancing my checkbook is a pretty mindless task, but I don't do it often enough to be bored by it.
Automation is another solution. Machines are uniquely suited to repetitive tasks, even complex ones. What's great about computers these days is they can learn (mostly by trying different procedures and keeping only the ones that work), but they can't get bored. In my line of work, as in many others, there are people concerned about their jobs being turned over to computers. I always assure them that computers are only good for tasks that are too stupid for human beings, by which I mean too mindless to be satisfying for us. Maybe I'd get more leverage if I said "tasks that are too boring for human beings."
What did you see today?
9/09/2012
I saw a quote about grandparents
Context
I read this at the end of Annie's Mailbox in the Shreveport Times today:
Annie's Snippet for Grandparents Day (credit Alex Haley): Nobody can do for little children what grandparents do. Grandparents sort of sprinkle stardust over the lives of little children.
Commentary
I don't usually celebrate what I consider to be "Hallmark Holidays." Sure, I commemorated Mother's Day and Father's Day when my parents were still alive, but after a while you start to feel like some things were just added to the calendar to push greeting cards. Boss's Day? Really? In fact, my mother was dismayed when we lived in Mexico that there was an official Children's Day celebrated there. She was of the not uncommon opinion that every day is Children's Day. So anyway, I didn't celebrate Grandparents' Day when my grandparents were living and the last surviving one died about 10 years ago. Nonetheless, I agree wholeheartedly with the quote above and I'm glad the Annie's Mailbox people posted it.
When I got to be of teenaged years and older, I learned some negative things about my grandparents. My maternal grandfather, who I never knew, was an alcoholic. Neither of my grandmothers was particularly nice to my mother, her mother-in-law being quite picky and her mother fairly self-involved. My paternal grandfather was a little distant.
None of these things mattered when I was a child. There was nothing I looked forward to more than my week of summer vacation alone with Mimi and Papa, watching TV, playing oh-so-carefully with Mimi's china, and listening raptly while Papa gave out wisdom in his slow and measured way. My other grandmother died when I was quite young, but I still remember snippets of the times I got to spend with her, as well as still having the stuffed tiger she gave me for my third birthday. I think she made it, but that's subject to some dispute. Whatever, she was my Grandma Russell and I can believe what I want! The point is: a child loves her parents, but Alex Haley is right, grandparents are magical.
I have no children of my own, but I saw some of the same things in my mom's life as a grandparent, too. My nephew is autistic, but my mother, in the stubborn way that is common to my family, refused to believe it. He was her Alex and he was just what he was meant to be, no disability at all. Her own great-granddaughter returned the favor when my mother was suffering from Alzheimer's. Actually, I should rephrase: my mother had no problem with her dementia at all; the rest of us did most of the suffering.
Anyway, my favorite two pictures of my mother are from that time. She is sitting on the steps with Shelby, her great-granddaughter. In one of them they are leaning forward, in the other, leaning back. My sister (Shelby's grandmother) came by and asked the nominally more responsible party, my mother, what they were doing. My mom said, "I don't know," and they just kept rocking.
I guess that's what's at the heart of the special relationship between grandparents and grandchildren. It might be different if you're actually raised by your grandparents, but that generation of remove seems to help grandparents accept grandchildren as whole people in their own right, needing to be guided, sure, but never a stand-in for their personal expectations or a reflection of their own failings. Grandchildren, in their turn, think every grandparental eccentricity is just normal, possibly because they don't have to see them often enough to chafe against them.
If you still have grandparents, I hope you enjoy a special relationship with them, and if not, I hope you have some magical memories.
What did you see today?
I read this at the end of Annie's Mailbox in the Shreveport Times today:
Annie's Snippet for Grandparents Day (credit Alex Haley): Nobody can do for little children what grandparents do. Grandparents sort of sprinkle stardust over the lives of little children.
Commentary
I don't usually celebrate what I consider to be "Hallmark Holidays." Sure, I commemorated Mother's Day and Father's Day when my parents were still alive, but after a while you start to feel like some things were just added to the calendar to push greeting cards. Boss's Day? Really? In fact, my mother was dismayed when we lived in Mexico that there was an official Children's Day celebrated there. She was of the not uncommon opinion that every day is Children's Day. So anyway, I didn't celebrate Grandparents' Day when my grandparents were living and the last surviving one died about 10 years ago. Nonetheless, I agree wholeheartedly with the quote above and I'm glad the Annie's Mailbox people posted it.
When I got to be of teenaged years and older, I learned some negative things about my grandparents. My maternal grandfather, who I never knew, was an alcoholic. Neither of my grandmothers was particularly nice to my mother, her mother-in-law being quite picky and her mother fairly self-involved. My paternal grandfather was a little distant.
None of these things mattered when I was a child. There was nothing I looked forward to more than my week of summer vacation alone with Mimi and Papa, watching TV, playing oh-so-carefully with Mimi's china, and listening raptly while Papa gave out wisdom in his slow and measured way. My other grandmother died when I was quite young, but I still remember snippets of the times I got to spend with her, as well as still having the stuffed tiger she gave me for my third birthday. I think she made it, but that's subject to some dispute. Whatever, she was my Grandma Russell and I can believe what I want! The point is: a child loves her parents, but Alex Haley is right, grandparents are magical.
I have no children of my own, but I saw some of the same things in my mom's life as a grandparent, too. My nephew is autistic, but my mother, in the stubborn way that is common to my family, refused to believe it. He was her Alex and he was just what he was meant to be, no disability at all. Her own great-granddaughter returned the favor when my mother was suffering from Alzheimer's. Actually, I should rephrase: my mother had no problem with her dementia at all; the rest of us did most of the suffering.
Anyway, my favorite two pictures of my mother are from that time. She is sitting on the steps with Shelby, her great-granddaughter. In one of them they are leaning forward, in the other, leaning back. My sister (Shelby's grandmother) came by and asked the nominally more responsible party, my mother, what they were doing. My mom said, "I don't know," and they just kept rocking.
I guess that's what's at the heart of the special relationship between grandparents and grandchildren. It might be different if you're actually raised by your grandparents, but that generation of remove seems to help grandparents accept grandchildren as whole people in their own right, needing to be guided, sure, but never a stand-in for their personal expectations or a reflection of their own failings. Grandchildren, in their turn, think every grandparental eccentricity is just normal, possibly because they don't have to see them often enough to chafe against them.
If you still have grandparents, I hope you enjoy a special relationship with them, and if not, I hope you have some magical memories.
What did you see today?
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