Context
A colleague of mine at the library was telling me that after cleaning files and books off her desk that had been there for a long time, she was surprised to see that there were a bunch of ink stains on the surface from when she'd been writing and smeared. I told her that never happened to me as I rarely use an "ink pen" for my job.
Commentary
My parents were Southerners, but I don't usually consider myself one. Over time, though, I've taken on some of the speech patterns of American South. For example, I can't tell you the last time I actually pronounced the "g" at the end of an "ing" verb. I used "y'all" long before I moved to Shreveport, because it cures the omission of a second person plural in formal English, and now that I'm here I also find myself saying things like "buggy" for "grocery cart." Apparently "ink pen" has joined the mix.
I found myself wondering today why people in the South add the word "ink" to "pen." Don't all pens have ink? Well, pig pens don't, but I don't think that's the issue. It comes back to an inherent problem with Southern English, a drawback to the drawl, if you will: there is pretty much no difference between the short "e" sound and the short "i" sound. This is usually not a big deal, as context will tell the listener the difference between "bliss" and "bless" and between "tin" and "ten." How often does someone ask you to lend them tin dollars, after all?
"Pin" and "pen" are different though, because they're often used in the same context. Picture me sitting at my desk in the I.T. department. I can't see my colleague in the next cubicle, so if she says, "I need a pin," I don't know if she's asking for something to write with or the password for a web page she's trying to access. The problem is not relieved by the natural tendency of people to make a word longer in order to be clear. If I ask my workmate to repeat herself, no matter what she wanted she's going to say, "a pee-ye-nuh." No help at all.
You may think I'm ragging on Southern speech, but I'm not. A true drawl is a lovely, mellifluous thing, greatly to be admired. If you've never heard one, you probably think the name "Lynn" consists of one syllable. Nuh-uh. My late mother-in-law, who was from East Texas, routinely drew it out to four. Remember up above, when I was talking about "short e" and "short i?" That's how I was taught to describe them when I was in grade school, but that was a long time ago and I wasn't in the South. I don't know what students are taught here, because there's no such thing as a short vowel sound. Shorter, maybe, but not short. And the shortest of them all is what is technically classified as a long vowel sound: the "i" in "fire." It's pronounced "ah." That means it's difficult to tell the difference between "fire" and "far," but again, context helps.
Nor do I think my perception that there is no distinction between the "e" and the "i" is because I'm not from 'round here (Yup, I use all kinds of Southernisms). I honestly don't think native-born Southerners can tell the difference either, because I've heard conversations between them that sound like the one described a couple of paragraphs ago. Apparently some time ago someone decided to resolve the problem by adding "ink" in front of the appropriate "pen," and the solution caught on. Ironically, the similar-sounding vowels have not become a part of my speech yet, but the workaround has. I guess I am now prepared to ramp up my drawl.
What did you hear today?
Showing posts with label libraries. Show all posts
Showing posts with label libraries. Show all posts
11/09/2012
9/19/2012
I saw a complaint about carelessness
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?
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?
6/25/2012
I saw a cheesecake shot
Context
I'm at the annual meeting of the American Library Association this weekend. While walking the exhibit floor, I saw that one booth had a life-sized standee image (not a photograph) of a woman wearing what could only be generously called a g-string and bra. They had a science-fictiony look to them, almost like Batman's utility belt. I don't remember if the vendor was selling books or tech, two of the most common things to see at ALA.
Commentary
I've been to comic book conventions, math conventions, and library tech conventions, and the only ones I remember seeing a similar display to this one are the comic book ones. When I looked at this scantily-clad woman I thought, "Man, did their marketing department ever blow it!"
This has to do with the fact that the library profession is made up predominantly of women. Not entirely, and some of the women are lesbians, who might have found the woman attractive, but enough so that the vast majority of people passing the display would be annoyed or offended. What's worse, because of that general level of offense, the people who might actually find the image attractive would be embarrassed. I found myself wondering if the vendor managed to snag anyone at all.
The contrast between what works in a conference composed primarily of women and one composed primarily of men reminded me of the talk I had just attended by Dan Ariely, author of the new book The Honest Truth About Dishonesty: How We Lie to Everyone, Especially Ourselves. The book is mostly about cheating, but it seems like one of the things Ariely's research has uncovered applies to other mores and values as well: social context matters. So if you're a man in a convention hall surrounded by other men, you likely won't feel too self-conscious about ogling a pretty girl. Quite the opposite, in fact. But when you're the only guy walking around with five female colleagues? Very different standards of behavior apply, and as Ariely says, each of your actions in the different contexts will seem right to you, even if they appear contradictory to an outside observer.
I'm not saying there's anything wrong with displaying or looking at a picture of a sexy woman. I'm just saying it may not always be your best marketing tool.
What did you see today?
2/27/2012
I saw a call to action
Context
I was looking at my library's list of new audiobooks, when I came across Charles Moore's Plastic Ocean: How a Sea Captain's Chance Discovery Launched a Determined Quest to Save the Oceans. I don't plan to read the book, but I was horrified by the idea that there's a part of the ocean where plastic refuse has just taken over.
Commentary
Despite the fact that I haven't read this book, I'm still interested in its purpose. Not so much the environmental one, although cleaning up the oceans is a good and worthy cause, but the motivational one. This book probably contains accounts of both the sea captain's discovery and his quest, but I'm assuming the main purpose is to convince others to join him in the endeavor. In fact, if the description of the plastic-filled North Pacific Subtropical Gyre is horrifying enough, I'm thinking the author believes that will be a sufficient call to action.
It won't be, though.I've written before about how I see a great deal of information, care about only some of it and only act on a small portion of that. At the moment, just reading the basic premise of Plastic Ocean makes me care, but not enough to even take the action of reading the actual book.
Discouraging, no? You could have an epiphany, write a book about it, move people to care, even, and still get no tangible results from the effort. How can an experience that completely changed one person's life have little to no effect on another's? Quick! Hundreds of evangelical preachers are waiting for your answer!
Easy. People are different. Their priorities are different, their values are different, their very way of experiencing the same phenomenon are different. I am concerned about the amount of trash in the ocean. However, at the moment I am more concerned about taking care of my husband and the animals who live in our home, so I won't be changing careers in order to help refarm kelp. I'm concerned about saving time, so I'm not going to take the extraordinary measures necessary to create a zero waste household. And so on. Succinctly, it's not my thing.
And yet not so simple, because I believe our reactions to these differences cause the vast majority of conflicts in both our personal and societal relationships. In a bizarre combination of arrogance and insecurity, we believe if something is important to us, it must be important to everyone. Otherwise, they'll just be wrong. Or we'll be wrong. Or something. So we'll put a great deal of effort into changing others' minds, which is fine. But if that doesn't work, we'll decide to put a great deal of force into doing so. And preventing that IS my thing.
What did you see today?
I was looking at my library's list of new audiobooks, when I came across Charles Moore's Plastic Ocean: How a Sea Captain's Chance Discovery Launched a Determined Quest to Save the Oceans. I don't plan to read the book, but I was horrified by the idea that there's a part of the ocean where plastic refuse has just taken over.
Commentary
Despite the fact that I haven't read this book, I'm still interested in its purpose. Not so much the environmental one, although cleaning up the oceans is a good and worthy cause, but the motivational one. This book probably contains accounts of both the sea captain's discovery and his quest, but I'm assuming the main purpose is to convince others to join him in the endeavor. In fact, if the description of the plastic-filled North Pacific Subtropical Gyre is horrifying enough, I'm thinking the author believes that will be a sufficient call to action.
It won't be, though.I've written before about how I see a great deal of information, care about only some of it and only act on a small portion of that. At the moment, just reading the basic premise of Plastic Ocean makes me care, but not enough to even take the action of reading the actual book.
Discouraging, no? You could have an epiphany, write a book about it, move people to care, even, and still get no tangible results from the effort. How can an experience that completely changed one person's life have little to no effect on another's? Quick! Hundreds of evangelical preachers are waiting for your answer!
Easy. People are different. Their priorities are different, their values are different, their very way of experiencing the same phenomenon are different. I am concerned about the amount of trash in the ocean. However, at the moment I am more concerned about taking care of my husband and the animals who live in our home, so I won't be changing careers in order to help refarm kelp. I'm concerned about saving time, so I'm not going to take the extraordinary measures necessary to create a zero waste household. And so on. Succinctly, it's not my thing.
And yet not so simple, because I believe our reactions to these differences cause the vast majority of conflicts in both our personal and societal relationships. In a bizarre combination of arrogance and insecurity, we believe if something is important to us, it must be important to everyone. Otherwise, they'll just be wrong. Or we'll be wrong. Or something. So we'll put a great deal of effort into changing others' minds, which is fine. But if that doesn't work, we'll decide to put a great deal of force into doing so. And preventing that IS my thing.
What did you see today?
10/25/2011
I saw the second response to a change
Context
I am the system administrator for the integrated library system at my workplace, which is what we use to electronically catalog and circulate items, as well as keep track of patron records. Our vendor for this product is SirsiDynix. Over the years, SirsiDynix has tried to foster a user community by maintaining listservs for individual pieces of their software.
SirsiDynix recently announced the creation a bunch of new listservs, because they've expanded their product line in several new directions. This caused an outcry among users, who wrote to the system administrators listserv (because it is our main method of communication outside of conferences) saying they couldn't possibly keep up with so many new lists and there should be more consolidation. Today, another set of voices emerged talking about the advantages of keeping separated lists for separate products and giving tips to the first group about managing e-mail. I cannot link to any of this correspondence, as these discussions are considered proprietary to SirsiDynix.
Commentary
When the aforementioned people got upset about the new listservs I thought, "Really? Is it that bad?", and waited for cooler heads to prevail. In my opinion, they did; there hasn't been any more back and forth on this issue; just "Oh, this is awful!" then, "No, it isn't; here's why:" and nothing further.
I've noticed this a lot lately. When new information appears, there seem to be two sets of people: reactors, who say the first thing that comes to their heads, often proved hyperbolic or downright erroneous later, and analyzers, who look at what the reactors say and come up with a reasoned response. I'd like to say that the analyzers are the only ones doing anything useful, but looking at the dynamic, I'm not sure that's true. The analyzers need the reactors, because otherwise they won't say anything.
Here's an example: an analyzer might look at the Occupy Wall Street protesters and say, "This is a group of people that is displeased about the direction the country is going; they're not terribly organized, but they seem OK with that; they're generally harmless." The thing is, I never heard anyone say those things about OWS until after I heard people say the protest was going to change everything, the revolution was underway, and the end of the world was at hand. I think analyzers think their well-reasoned viewpoint is the prevailing one, so they don't bother to say anything until the reactors have proved them wrong.
Well, not proved them wrong, exactly. I don't think reactors are more numerous than analyzers, just louder and more obvious at the beginning of a timeline. In fact, I think many reactors turn into analyzers over time. I know I do; my first response to information may be spontaneous and visceral, but after a while I often come to see and express a viewpoint that is more considered and transcendant. I don't think either response is correct per se; there seems to be a yinyang quality at work here that is worth preserving.
What did you see today?
I am the system administrator for the integrated library system at my workplace, which is what we use to electronically catalog and circulate items, as well as keep track of patron records. Our vendor for this product is SirsiDynix. Over the years, SirsiDynix has tried to foster a user community by maintaining listservs for individual pieces of their software.
SirsiDynix recently announced the creation a bunch of new listservs, because they've expanded their product line in several new directions. This caused an outcry among users, who wrote to the system administrators listserv (because it is our main method of communication outside of conferences) saying they couldn't possibly keep up with so many new lists and there should be more consolidation. Today, another set of voices emerged talking about the advantages of keeping separated lists for separate products and giving tips to the first group about managing e-mail. I cannot link to any of this correspondence, as these discussions are considered proprietary to SirsiDynix.
Commentary
When the aforementioned people got upset about the new listservs I thought, "Really? Is it that bad?", and waited for cooler heads to prevail. In my opinion, they did; there hasn't been any more back and forth on this issue; just "Oh, this is awful!" then, "No, it isn't; here's why:" and nothing further.
I've noticed this a lot lately. When new information appears, there seem to be two sets of people: reactors, who say the first thing that comes to their heads, often proved hyperbolic or downright erroneous later, and analyzers, who look at what the reactors say and come up with a reasoned response. I'd like to say that the analyzers are the only ones doing anything useful, but looking at the dynamic, I'm not sure that's true. The analyzers need the reactors, because otherwise they won't say anything.
Here's an example: an analyzer might look at the Occupy Wall Street protesters and say, "This is a group of people that is displeased about the direction the country is going; they're not terribly organized, but they seem OK with that; they're generally harmless." The thing is, I never heard anyone say those things about OWS until after I heard people say the protest was going to change everything, the revolution was underway, and the end of the world was at hand. I think analyzers think their well-reasoned viewpoint is the prevailing one, so they don't bother to say anything until the reactors have proved them wrong.
Well, not proved them wrong, exactly. I don't think reactors are more numerous than analyzers, just louder and more obvious at the beginning of a timeline. In fact, I think many reactors turn into analyzers over time. I know I do; my first response to information may be spontaneous and visceral, but after a while I often come to see and express a viewpoint that is more considered and transcendant. I don't think either response is correct per se; there seems to be a yinyang quality at work here that is worth preserving.
What did you see today?
5/14/2011
I heard someone apologize
Context
In a meeting today, the director of my library apologized for an administrative failure. After he did so, I heard a couple of people behind me murmuring things like, “Don’t apologize!” and “This was going on long before he got here.”
Commentary
This is actually my entry for 5/12/10, but Blogger was down that day.
I’m a strong believer in the Quaker testimony on integrity. Your “yes” should be a yes, and your “no,” a no. People ought to be able to believe in what you say.
A consequence of this is I get annoyed if people don’t believe what I say. If I say I’m sorry, I’m not trying to smooth things over or gain sympathy; I did wrong and I want to express regret about it. Moreover, I think that minimizing my apology minimizes my autonomy, implying that I'm not really responsible for the things I do. I feel it's only fair to warn you: you don't want to get between me and my autonomy.
I also tend to take a transactional view of human interactions. I say, "Thank you;" you say, "You're welcome." You ask me if I want something; I say, "No, thank you;" you don't give it to me, and we both go on with our lives.
Brushing off an apology, rather than accepting it, short-circuits the transaction. A person lets me know I've done something wrong, I apologize, then the person says, essentially, "Oh, don't worry about it." Then, what? The transgression just hangs out there forever? Or am I supposed to forget you said anything? Then why did you say anything? I'm trying to take responsibility for the bad thing I did; are you refusing to take responsibility for having brought it up?
I know, I'm reading way too much into something people do to be polite. But that brings us back to the integrity thing again. The stuff you say, complaints, apologies, declarations of affection and gratitude, should not be just empty words, they should mean something. Or don't waste your breath and my time.
What did you see today?
In a meeting today, the director of my library apologized for an administrative failure. After he did so, I heard a couple of people behind me murmuring things like, “Don’t apologize!” and “This was going on long before he got here.”
Commentary
This is actually my entry for 5/12/10, but Blogger was down that day.
I’m a strong believer in the Quaker testimony on integrity. Your “yes” should be a yes, and your “no,” a no. People ought to be able to believe in what you say.
A consequence of this is I get annoyed if people don’t believe what I say. If I say I’m sorry, I’m not trying to smooth things over or gain sympathy; I did wrong and I want to express regret about it. Moreover, I think that minimizing my apology minimizes my autonomy, implying that I'm not really responsible for the things I do. I feel it's only fair to warn you: you don't want to get between me and my autonomy.
I also tend to take a transactional view of human interactions. I say, "Thank you;" you say, "You're welcome." You ask me if I want something; I say, "No, thank you;" you don't give it to me, and we both go on with our lives.
Brushing off an apology, rather than accepting it, short-circuits the transaction. A person lets me know I've done something wrong, I apologize, then the person says, essentially, "Oh, don't worry about it." Then, what? The transgression just hangs out there forever? Or am I supposed to forget you said anything? Then why did you say anything? I'm trying to take responsibility for the bad thing I did; are you refusing to take responsibility for having brought it up?
I know, I'm reading way too much into something people do to be polite. But that brings us back to the integrity thing again. The stuff you say, complaints, apologies, declarations of affection and gratitude, should not be just empty words, they should mean something. Or don't waste your breath and my time.
What did you see today?
5/10/2011
I saw (and heard!) a disappointing webinar
Context
I attended a free webinar sponsored by the American Library Association today entitled It's All About the Student: How Students Learn and How Online Reference Sources Help. Since I teach computer skills to adults at my library I thought it would be of some use to me and I stuck with it until the end, but I didn't enjoy it much.
Commentary
The first thing I found disappointing about this webinar was that it was not a webinar, at least not in the sense of being in seminar format. The presenters were given time to present and attenders were allowed to ask questions through a chat window, but generally those were answered by a moderator. So it really wasn't the "exchange of ideas" my dictionary says a seminar is supposed to be. It was a set of lectures.
To compound the problem, the lectures themselves didn't engage me. Some of that was because I am not much of an audio learner. Instead, I'm more of a visual-kinesthetic type. There were visual aids (otherwise it would have been a podcast), but because they were PowerPoints I found myself thinking, "I could have just read these slides at my leisure instead of being chained to my desk listening to these people blather on." Or in one case, LISTENING TO THE PERSON READ HER POWERPOINT SLIDES! Are we ever going to cure people of that?
Not that I would have read the slides anyway, because they were mostly sales pitches for the online reference products sold by various companies. I probably should have expected this going in because most of the panel was composed of vendors, but I didn't think it would be quite so blatant.
Which brings me to my main problem with the whole enterprise. The first presenter, a librarian at Harvard, attempted to build a context for what we were going to hear by talking about some learning characteristics of digital natives. I didn't necessarily trust her conclusions, but at least she was speaking in the realm of ideas. After that, it was a series of "Look at these cool bells and whistles!" talks except for the very last vendor, who at least attempted to to talk about the pedagogical reasoning behind his company's offerings. I came away not only disappointed in the webinar, but in our whole educational system if this is how we decide what tools to use.
"Student engagement" is a popular concept in teacher training these days, and I agree that if someone's not paying attention, they're not likely to learn much. I'm concerned that we're confusing condiments for entrees though, trying to get students engaged using cool technology toys and ignoring whether they're actually learning and retaining something in the process.
In the end, though, the webinar was not a total loss for me. I spent some time this afternoon thinking about ways I balance student engagement with discernable learning outcomes in my own classes, and I'll probably do some writing about that topic a little later. I count it as blessing when my generally discontented nature allows me to examine some deeper truths.
What did you see (and hear!) today?
I attended a free webinar sponsored by the American Library Association today entitled It's All About the Student: How Students Learn and How Online Reference Sources Help. Since I teach computer skills to adults at my library I thought it would be of some use to me and I stuck with it until the end, but I didn't enjoy it much.
Commentary
The first thing I found disappointing about this webinar was that it was not a webinar, at least not in the sense of being in seminar format. The presenters were given time to present and attenders were allowed to ask questions through a chat window, but generally those were answered by a moderator. So it really wasn't the "exchange of ideas" my dictionary says a seminar is supposed to be. It was a set of lectures.
To compound the problem, the lectures themselves didn't engage me. Some of that was because I am not much of an audio learner. Instead, I'm more of a visual-kinesthetic type. There were visual aids (otherwise it would have been a podcast), but because they were PowerPoints I found myself thinking, "I could have just read these slides at my leisure instead of being chained to my desk listening to these people blather on." Or in one case, LISTENING TO THE PERSON READ HER POWERPOINT SLIDES! Are we ever going to cure people of that?
Not that I would have read the slides anyway, because they were mostly sales pitches for the online reference products sold by various companies. I probably should have expected this going in because most of the panel was composed of vendors, but I didn't think it would be quite so blatant.
Which brings me to my main problem with the whole enterprise. The first presenter, a librarian at Harvard, attempted to build a context for what we were going to hear by talking about some learning characteristics of digital natives. I didn't necessarily trust her conclusions, but at least she was speaking in the realm of ideas. After that, it was a series of "Look at these cool bells and whistles!" talks except for the very last vendor, who at least attempted to to talk about the pedagogical reasoning behind his company's offerings. I came away not only disappointed in the webinar, but in our whole educational system if this is how we decide what tools to use.
"Student engagement" is a popular concept in teacher training these days, and I agree that if someone's not paying attention, they're not likely to learn much. I'm concerned that we're confusing condiments for entrees though, trying to get students engaged using cool technology toys and ignoring whether they're actually learning and retaining something in the process.
In the end, though, the webinar was not a total loss for me. I spent some time this afternoon thinking about ways I balance student engagement with discernable learning outcomes in my own classes, and I'll probably do some writing about that topic a little later. I count it as blessing when my generally discontented nature allows me to examine some deeper truths.
What did you see (and hear!) today?
3/09/2011
I saw a blog post about teaching methods
Context
One of the messages on the Information Literacy Instruction mailing list today referenced this blog post. I encourage you to read it yourself, but here's the quick summary: it's about using a learning cycle consisting of assimilation, accommodation, and organization as a model for library instruction.
Commentary
This is my interpretation of the learning cycle described by Frierson: assimilation is when we receive information, accommodation is how we match up new information to what we already know, and organization is how we decide to use the information. Let me give an example of how this works: I look at my thermometer and assimilate that the temperature outside is 49 degrees Fahrenheit. I accommodate this knowledge by remembering that in the past when it has been 49 degrees, I've been pretty chilly. I organize the information by deciding to wear a coat.
Teaching is often treated as just a process of putting information out there so students can assimilate it. In return, students sometimes bypass accommodation entirely and only organize the information so they can regurgitate it on an exam. Teachers are frustrated because students don't appear to learn; students are frustrated because teachers don't appear to offer anything of lasting value (Where am I ever going to diagram sentences in the real world?).
Early in his teaching career, my husband attended a workshop called Teaching and Learning. He learned all kinds of useful stuff there; I learned for the first time that education is not just about teaching, but about learning as well. In other words, you can be the best teacher in the whole world, but if your students aren't learning, it's a pointless exercise for everyone. This can be terrifying to teachers, because although we have complete control over how we present information, we have no control over how students accommodate it or organize it. The best we can hope for is to accompany them in that process and maybe learn something ourselves.
There's also a time factor. Presenting information generally doesn't take long, whether we talk, or give the students something to read, or even demonstrate a task. However, waiting for each individual student to find existing knowledge in his/her brain to tack the new information to and decide how she/he wants to use it is not only time-consuming, it's unpredictably time-consuming.
A typical response is to say we don't have time to teach that way. I don't buy it. Here is my philosophy about time: we have time to do everything we really want to do. I have a similar philosophy about money, but I won't go into that. Anyway, when it comes to time constraints, I think what we're really saying is we don't have time to do something and . . . "I don't have time to do the dishes tonight" really means "I don't have time to do the dishes tonight and go to bed early so I can get up early tomorrow and not be sleepy." We're setting some priorities, which is reasonable, but it's not the same as having no time to do the dishes.
So why don't we have time to teach in such a way that students will want to learn and be successful doing so? Because what we prioritize more highly is "covering material." Of all the insidious ideas to infiltrate education, this has got to be the worst. OK, I'm not super fond of group work either, but I digress. I don't know how we ever got to a place where we believe it is more important for a teacher to get through a certain number of lessons or concepts or textbook pages than it is for students to actually learn something.
Actually, I'm lying. I know exactly how we got here; it's through mistrust and laziness. We don't trust teachers to teach, so we want to evaluate them. But measuring how much a student has learned, as opposed to how much he/she can remember at test time, is difficult. So we settle for a quantitative measure, like a percentage of right answers, instead of a qualitative one, like how good a student is at formulating worthwhile answers to substantive questions of her/his own devising. But man, that material gets covered!
What did you see today?
One of the messages on the Information Literacy Instruction mailing list today referenced this blog post. I encourage you to read it yourself, but here's the quick summary: it's about using a learning cycle consisting of assimilation, accommodation, and organization as a model for library instruction.
Commentary
This is my interpretation of the learning cycle described by Frierson: assimilation is when we receive information, accommodation is how we match up new information to what we already know, and organization is how we decide to use the information. Let me give an example of how this works: I look at my thermometer and assimilate that the temperature outside is 49 degrees Fahrenheit. I accommodate this knowledge by remembering that in the past when it has been 49 degrees, I've been pretty chilly. I organize the information by deciding to wear a coat.
Teaching is often treated as just a process of putting information out there so students can assimilate it. In return, students sometimes bypass accommodation entirely and only organize the information so they can regurgitate it on an exam. Teachers are frustrated because students don't appear to learn; students are frustrated because teachers don't appear to offer anything of lasting value (Where am I ever going to diagram sentences in the real world?).
Early in his teaching career, my husband attended a workshop called Teaching and Learning. He learned all kinds of useful stuff there; I learned for the first time that education is not just about teaching, but about learning as well. In other words, you can be the best teacher in the whole world, but if your students aren't learning, it's a pointless exercise for everyone. This can be terrifying to teachers, because although we have complete control over how we present information, we have no control over how students accommodate it or organize it. The best we can hope for is to accompany them in that process and maybe learn something ourselves.
There's also a time factor. Presenting information generally doesn't take long, whether we talk, or give the students something to read, or even demonstrate a task. However, waiting for each individual student to find existing knowledge in his/her brain to tack the new information to and decide how she/he wants to use it is not only time-consuming, it's unpredictably time-consuming.
A typical response is to say we don't have time to teach that way. I don't buy it. Here is my philosophy about time: we have time to do everything we really want to do. I have a similar philosophy about money, but I won't go into that. Anyway, when it comes to time constraints, I think what we're really saying is we don't have time to do something and . . . "I don't have time to do the dishes tonight" really means "I don't have time to do the dishes tonight and go to bed early so I can get up early tomorrow and not be sleepy." We're setting some priorities, which is reasonable, but it's not the same as having no time to do the dishes.
So why don't we have time to teach in such a way that students will want to learn and be successful doing so? Because what we prioritize more highly is "covering material." Of all the insidious ideas to infiltrate education, this has got to be the worst. OK, I'm not super fond of group work either, but I digress. I don't know how we ever got to a place where we believe it is more important for a teacher to get through a certain number of lessons or concepts or textbook pages than it is for students to actually learn something.
Actually, I'm lying. I know exactly how we got here; it's through mistrust and laziness. We don't trust teachers to teach, so we want to evaluate them. But measuring how much a student has learned, as opposed to how much he/she can remember at test time, is difficult. So we settle for a quantitative measure, like a percentage of right answers, instead of a qualitative one, like how good a student is at formulating worthwhile answers to substantive questions of her/his own devising. But man, that material gets covered!
What did you see today?
2/07/2011
I saw an unfamiliar medical condition
Context
I was reading an e-mail from Help a Reporter Out (HARO) today and it referred to a condition known as gluteal amnesia. As mentioned previously, the rules of HARO don't allow me to quote the actual message here. Since I had never heard of gluteal amnesia, I did a quick internet search for it. I saw it mentioned and defined on several sites, but when I sought more information on either WebMD and PubMed, the term was not found.
Commentary
I can't tell you what gluteal amnesia is, because once I found it wasn't mentioned on the two internet sources I consider most authoritative for medical information I was no longer interested in the condition itself. Instead, I came to wonder why a great many people outside the medical establishment wanted to talk so much about it.
I've come up with three possible reasons:
1) Gluteal amnesia doesn't really exist at all and is just a scam started to convince people they have an exotic ailment.
2) Gluteal amnesia is a very real medical problem, but health professionals call it something else.
3) What is labeled gluteal amnesia is a set of symptoms that could point to a variety of other widely recognized medical conditions.
Whichever of these three reasons explains the discrepancy in the discussion of gluteal amnesia (Could we really just be talking about your butt falling asleep?), it must drive physicians up the wall. It may also illustrate, in part, why doctors sometimes hate it when patients get medical information from the web. Think about it: a general practitioner has to keep up with all manner of real medical problems, and then people come in complaining of a problem that doesn't exist. Or does exist, but is called by another name or indicates another type of problem.
It doesn't help in the slightest that there are probably some people who believe in a fourth potential reason for the relative silence about gluteal amnesia: it's a very real, very serious medical condition that the medical establishment doesn't want us to know about for some nefarious reason. So now we have skilled professionals (and, in my experience, generally nice people) being told, "I don't trust what you say because the internet, (where nobody knows you're a dog), says different."
For the record, my doctor often encourages me to look up information on my medical problems on the internet, but that's after she tells me what they are. And it's possible she does that because I'm a librarian and I let her be a doctor.
What did you see today?
I was reading an e-mail from Help a Reporter Out (HARO) today and it referred to a condition known as gluteal amnesia. As mentioned previously, the rules of HARO don't allow me to quote the actual message here. Since I had never heard of gluteal amnesia, I did a quick internet search for it. I saw it mentioned and defined on several sites, but when I sought more information on either WebMD and PubMed, the term was not found.
Commentary
I can't tell you what gluteal amnesia is, because once I found it wasn't mentioned on the two internet sources I consider most authoritative for medical information I was no longer interested in the condition itself. Instead, I came to wonder why a great many people outside the medical establishment wanted to talk so much about it.
I've come up with three possible reasons:
1) Gluteal amnesia doesn't really exist at all and is just a scam started to convince people they have an exotic ailment.
2) Gluteal amnesia is a very real medical problem, but health professionals call it something else.
3) What is labeled gluteal amnesia is a set of symptoms that could point to a variety of other widely recognized medical conditions.
Whichever of these three reasons explains the discrepancy in the discussion of gluteal amnesia (Could we really just be talking about your butt falling asleep?), it must drive physicians up the wall. It may also illustrate, in part, why doctors sometimes hate it when patients get medical information from the web. Think about it: a general practitioner has to keep up with all manner of real medical problems, and then people come in complaining of a problem that doesn't exist. Or does exist, but is called by another name or indicates another type of problem.
It doesn't help in the slightest that there are probably some people who believe in a fourth potential reason for the relative silence about gluteal amnesia: it's a very real, very serious medical condition that the medical establishment doesn't want us to know about for some nefarious reason. So now we have skilled professionals (and, in my experience, generally nice people) being told, "I don't trust what you say because the internet, (where nobody knows you're a dog), says different."
For the record, my doctor often encourages me to look up information on my medical problems on the internet, but that's after she tells me what they are. And it's possible she does that because I'm a librarian and I let her be a doctor.
What did you see today?
9/19/2010
I saw a printing error
Context
I was reading this article in the hard copy Shreveport Times today. The print version of the article ended with 'An analysis of the charity's reports to the IRS show contributions have steadily increased over the last three years, reaching nearly $1.2 billion in fiscal year 2009, the most recent for"
Commentary
It appears that the Times didn't allow enough column space for this article, because the version I've linked to not only completes the sentence referenced above, it also contains two more full paragraphs! I remarked to my husband that making a calculation like that should be part of Printing 101. He said the problem was probably that decisions about spacing were left to the printing software. As an information technology worker I said, "Yup, that would be a problem all right."
The information technology department at Shreve Memorial Library is called "Automation." This is a holdover from the time when our main purpose as an organizational unit was converting our card catalog and manual circulation system (Are you old enough to remember when someone had to match a card from a book to a card with your name and put them in a file box together?) to automated objects.
This is an example, and I think a positive one, of how computer systems promote efficiency. However, because of instances like I saw today, I don't think it's a good idea to let computers replace people. When we do, we risk making significant sacrifices, because computers lack judgment and an understanding of nuance.
It seems to me that this was something automobile manufacturers and others learned in the 1980s, when they emphasized that a person could stop an automated assembly line if they saw something wrong. What was interesting about this movement is that it led not only to improved product, but also improved worker morale.
It's not surprising that as creatures with imaginative and subtle brains, we prefer to do work that uses them, not just perform the same tasks over and over again like cogs in a machine. But as consumers we often favor cheap, easy-to-find, or faddish items over high-quality ones. So we make it hard for human labor to be both successful and fulfilling, which I think is a shame.
What did you see today?
I was reading this article in the hard copy Shreveport Times today. The print version of the article ended with 'An analysis of the charity's reports to the IRS show contributions have steadily increased over the last three years, reaching nearly $1.2 billion in fiscal year 2009, the most recent for"
Commentary
It appears that the Times didn't allow enough column space for this article, because the version I've linked to not only completes the sentence referenced above, it also contains two more full paragraphs! I remarked to my husband that making a calculation like that should be part of Printing 101. He said the problem was probably that decisions about spacing were left to the printing software. As an information technology worker I said, "Yup, that would be a problem all right."
The information technology department at Shreve Memorial Library is called "Automation." This is a holdover from the time when our main purpose as an organizational unit was converting our card catalog and manual circulation system (Are you old enough to remember when someone had to match a card from a book to a card with your name and put them in a file box together?) to automated objects.
This is an example, and I think a positive one, of how computer systems promote efficiency. However, because of instances like I saw today, I don't think it's a good idea to let computers replace people. When we do, we risk making significant sacrifices, because computers lack judgment and an understanding of nuance.
It seems to me that this was something automobile manufacturers and others learned in the 1980s, when they emphasized that a person could stop an automated assembly line if they saw something wrong. What was interesting about this movement is that it led not only to improved product, but also improved worker morale.
It's not surprising that as creatures with imaginative and subtle brains, we prefer to do work that uses them, not just perform the same tasks over and over again like cogs in a machine. But as consumers we often favor cheap, easy-to-find, or faddish items over high-quality ones. So we make it hard for human labor to be both successful and fulfilling, which I think is a shame.
What did you see today?
8/13/2010
I saw a contradiction
Context
I am currently reading Acres of Diamonds, a speech given by Russell Conwell, the founder of Temple University. I'm reading it in book form, and on page 41, Conwell tells a story about John Jacob Astor's success coming in small part because when he owned a hat shop, he only sold bonnets copied from ones he had seen contented ladies wearing. Then, on page 47, Conwell talks about how important great inventors are in a capitalist society.
Commentary
Acres of Diamonds is a polemic extolling the virtues of making money, almost to the exclusion of all else, so I'm probably predisposed to pick it apart. It was funny though, I read the Astor story and said to myself, "So Conwell is saying innovation is bad." Then I got to page 47 and thought, "Unless it's a successful innovation that makes money. Then he's saying it's good!"
I think this odd juxtaposition struck me harder because earlier this week I was in a two-day workshop where I thought the consultant contradicted herself repeatedly. In fact, there were enough instances that I thought I could develop a pretty good drinking game based on them, but you know how punchy you get at these things.
Anyway, these two sets of circumstances got me thinking about why people contradict themselves and why we as listeners sometimes don't notice. I came up with two reasons:
1) Someone is presenting so much information that contradictions kind of creep in unnoticed. I think this is applicable not only to Conwell, who seemed to want to say everything good about capitalism at once and the consultant, who was trying to fit a great deal of material about library planning into two days, but also the world in general these days, where so much information is available that it's hard to take a moment and realize that "A" cannot exist in the same universe as "B." I think we should pay attention if this is happening, and you can count on The Daily Show to point out as many of them as they can get their hands on, but morally the phenomenon is pretty benign.
2) Someone is so intent on making a point that they will use whatever arguments are at hand, even if they make no logical sense. This is not so benign and nearly impossible to combat. It is the argument that starts with, "We know President Obama is not a citizen because he can't produce a birth certificate," then decides to cover all bases with, "The birth certificate President Obama has showed people is falsified."
My concerns about #2 are, I think, why I'm picky about internal contradictions in a presentation. If you're trying to convince me of something, I want all your arguments to line up and make sense. Otherwise, I just think you're trying to sell me something.
What did you see today?
I am currently reading Acres of Diamonds, a speech given by Russell Conwell, the founder of Temple University. I'm reading it in book form, and on page 41, Conwell tells a story about John Jacob Astor's success coming in small part because when he owned a hat shop, he only sold bonnets copied from ones he had seen contented ladies wearing. Then, on page 47, Conwell talks about how important great inventors are in a capitalist society.
Commentary
Acres of Diamonds is a polemic extolling the virtues of making money, almost to the exclusion of all else, so I'm probably predisposed to pick it apart. It was funny though, I read the Astor story and said to myself, "So Conwell is saying innovation is bad." Then I got to page 47 and thought, "Unless it's a successful innovation that makes money. Then he's saying it's good!"
I think this odd juxtaposition struck me harder because earlier this week I was in a two-day workshop where I thought the consultant contradicted herself repeatedly. In fact, there were enough instances that I thought I could develop a pretty good drinking game based on them, but you know how punchy you get at these things.
Anyway, these two sets of circumstances got me thinking about why people contradict themselves and why we as listeners sometimes don't notice. I came up with two reasons:
1) Someone is presenting so much information that contradictions kind of creep in unnoticed. I think this is applicable not only to Conwell, who seemed to want to say everything good about capitalism at once and the consultant, who was trying to fit a great deal of material about library planning into two days, but also the world in general these days, where so much information is available that it's hard to take a moment and realize that "A" cannot exist in the same universe as "B." I think we should pay attention if this is happening, and you can count on The Daily Show to point out as many of them as they can get their hands on, but morally the phenomenon is pretty benign.
2) Someone is so intent on making a point that they will use whatever arguments are at hand, even if they make no logical sense. This is not so benign and nearly impossible to combat. It is the argument that starts with, "We know President Obama is not a citizen because he can't produce a birth certificate," then decides to cover all bases with, "The birth certificate President Obama has showed people is falsified."
My concerns about #2 are, I think, why I'm picky about internal contradictions in a presentation. If you're trying to convince me of something, I want all your arguments to line up and make sense. Otherwise, I just think you're trying to sell me something.
What did you see today?
6/30/2010
I saw an underweight coworker
Context
One of my coworkers at the library was overweight when he first got his job. He then went on the paleolithic diet. He got down to a healthy weight and kept on going, so now he is too thin for his large frame. My relationship with this young man is cordial but not close.
Commentary
Actually, "cordial but not close" is pretty much what I go for in all my relationships. I mean, I'm married and I have family and a couple of close friends, but in general I don't bond tightly with other human beings.
And therein lies a problem. I'm concerned about my coworker. He may be ill, but given his personality (he strikes me as someone who sees things very much in black and white) I'm concerned he may be anorexic. But I'm nowhere near close enough to him to ask him about it.
Closeness is not the only issue. Current etiquette dictates that we don't make casual comments on appearance in the workplace, as doing so risks a charge of unprofessionalism or outright harassment. And in society at large we generally don't talk about a person's weight at all. Remember, the only time you should ask a woman if she's pregnant is when you see a baby emerging from her womb. I guess the reason behind this is that we are expected to be hypersensitive about our weight, and if my coworker really does have an eating disorder the last thing I want to do is promote hypersensitivity.
But is the only alternative to say nothing at all? To, in fact, have my eyes open and not open my mouth? Or do I have to take the long way around and get closer to him and then express concern? This loving thy neighbor stuff is hard!
What did you see today?
One of my coworkers at the library was overweight when he first got his job. He then went on the paleolithic diet. He got down to a healthy weight and kept on going, so now he is too thin for his large frame. My relationship with this young man is cordial but not close.
Commentary
Actually, "cordial but not close" is pretty much what I go for in all my relationships. I mean, I'm married and I have family and a couple of close friends, but in general I don't bond tightly with other human beings.
And therein lies a problem. I'm concerned about my coworker. He may be ill, but given his personality (he strikes me as someone who sees things very much in black and white) I'm concerned he may be anorexic. But I'm nowhere near close enough to him to ask him about it.
Closeness is not the only issue. Current etiquette dictates that we don't make casual comments on appearance in the workplace, as doing so risks a charge of unprofessionalism or outright harassment. And in society at large we generally don't talk about a person's weight at all. Remember, the only time you should ask a woman if she's pregnant is when you see a baby emerging from her womb. I guess the reason behind this is that we are expected to be hypersensitive about our weight, and if my coworker really does have an eating disorder the last thing I want to do is promote hypersensitivity.
But is the only alternative to say nothing at all? To, in fact, have my eyes open and not open my mouth? Or do I have to take the long way around and get closer to him and then express concern? This loving thy neighbor stuff is hard!
What did you see today?
6/25/2010
I saw a review of a book
Context
One of the tasks I perform at my library is looking over the new book lists in our catalog to make sure the items are displaying properly. Our catalog contains reviews of some items and sometimes I read those, even though it's not a necessary component of the task.
This is a quote I read today from the Library Journal review of Lynette Eason's Too Close to Home: "Readers who enjoy romantic suspense authors Suzanne Brockmann and Sandra Brown but who prefer their thrills with a little more conscience and a lot less sex will be thrilled with Eason's new series opener." Eason is classified as a Christian suspense author.
Commentary
I have been neglecting my calling. And as often happens with backsliding, I didn't realize it for a long time. I haven't posted to this blog for two and a half months, not because I haven't been seeing anything (I always see stuff), but because I didn't think I needed to say anything about it.
Here's an example: I was at a funeral visitation last weekend, waiting outside while a rosary was being said for the deceased. Some of the other people outside were making fun of the rosary. Yes, you read that correctly. At a funeral, there were people making fun of the rosary being said for the departed. Anyway, I didn't know anyone else who was around, so I didn't say anything to them about this appalling lack of respect. I figured it wouldn't do any good.
And this morning when I read the review excerpted above I had some thoughts about it, but I didn't plan to blog because I didn't think my opinions would be of interest to anyone. And then I remembered. The call was to open my eyes and open my mouth, not to be interesting or even effective. The words are my responsibility; the response is not. Luckily, repentance is always an option, so onward!
Although I am a Christian, I rarely read what is called Christian literature. I'm not using the conditional term above because I don't think the literature is Christian. It's just that, as with so many other parts of our culture today, it seems certain people have co-opted the term so that nothing outside their realm is considered Christian. In order to satisfy that segment of the population, a book has to uphold conservative values, particularly those pertaining to personal morality. It also has to say at its core that although there may be some ups and downs to life, correct religious belief and practice will eventually give you all the answers you need.
Which brings me to a Christian author I do like: C.S. Lewis. I read his works, you should pardon the expression, religiously. But apparently he's not quite Christian enough. A library colleague I respect in Arkansas, Lesley Knieriem, made this statement about him in response to a request for Christian authors: "Lewis's space trilogy [is] well known, but . . . once again would not be acceptable to the ECPA." The ECPA is the Evangelical Christian Publishers Association. I had to look that up.
I can see what Lesley means. The final book in the series cited has the Jesus stand-in (named Ransom, because Lewis is not a subtle man) utter this line about one of his companions: "He is our sceptic; a very important office." Somehow I can't see a Gilbert Morris protagonist making that kind of statement. Even less can I picture a contemporary piece of Christian children's literature containing a scene like the one near the end of the Chronicles of Narnia series, where a person who has been serving Satan (or Baal, depending on your interpretation) all his life is told that there is a place for him in heaven because his actions were virtuous, even though they were pointed at the wrong God!
In the end, I think they problem is one of intent. It seems to be that the current crop of Christian authors seek to comfort their readers, while Lewis was always in the business of challenging his, even the youngest of them. And when it comes to my religious health, I don't need a lot of massage. I need resistance training.
What did you see today?
One of the tasks I perform at my library is looking over the new book lists in our catalog to make sure the items are displaying properly. Our catalog contains reviews of some items and sometimes I read those, even though it's not a necessary component of the task.
This is a quote I read today from the Library Journal review of Lynette Eason's Too Close to Home: "Readers who enjoy romantic suspense authors Suzanne Brockmann and Sandra Brown but who prefer their thrills with a little more conscience and a lot less sex will be thrilled with Eason's new series opener." Eason is classified as a Christian suspense author.
Commentary
I have been neglecting my calling. And as often happens with backsliding, I didn't realize it for a long time. I haven't posted to this blog for two and a half months, not because I haven't been seeing anything (I always see stuff), but because I didn't think I needed to say anything about it.
Here's an example: I was at a funeral visitation last weekend, waiting outside while a rosary was being said for the deceased. Some of the other people outside were making fun of the rosary. Yes, you read that correctly. At a funeral, there were people making fun of the rosary being said for the departed. Anyway, I didn't know anyone else who was around, so I didn't say anything to them about this appalling lack of respect. I figured it wouldn't do any good.
And this morning when I read the review excerpted above I had some thoughts about it, but I didn't plan to blog because I didn't think my opinions would be of interest to anyone. And then I remembered. The call was to open my eyes and open my mouth, not to be interesting or even effective. The words are my responsibility; the response is not. Luckily, repentance is always an option, so onward!
Although I am a Christian, I rarely read what is called Christian literature. I'm not using the conditional term above because I don't think the literature is Christian. It's just that, as with so many other parts of our culture today, it seems certain people have co-opted the term so that nothing outside their realm is considered Christian. In order to satisfy that segment of the population, a book has to uphold conservative values, particularly those pertaining to personal morality. It also has to say at its core that although there may be some ups and downs to life, correct religious belief and practice will eventually give you all the answers you need.
Which brings me to a Christian author I do like: C.S. Lewis. I read his works, you should pardon the expression, religiously. But apparently he's not quite Christian enough. A library colleague I respect in Arkansas, Lesley Knieriem, made this statement about him in response to a request for Christian authors: "Lewis's space trilogy [is] well known, but . . . once again would not be acceptable to the ECPA." The ECPA is the Evangelical Christian Publishers Association. I had to look that up.
I can see what Lesley means. The final book in the series cited has the Jesus stand-in (named Ransom, because Lewis is not a subtle man) utter this line about one of his companions: "He is our sceptic; a very important office." Somehow I can't see a Gilbert Morris protagonist making that kind of statement. Even less can I picture a contemporary piece of Christian children's literature containing a scene like the one near the end of the Chronicles of Narnia series, where a person who has been serving Satan (or Baal, depending on your interpretation) all his life is told that there is a place for him in heaven because his actions were virtuous, even though they were pointed at the wrong God!
In the end, I think they problem is one of intent. It seems to be that the current crop of Christian authors seek to comfort their readers, while Lewis was always in the business of challenging his, even the youngest of them. And when it comes to my religious health, I don't need a lot of massage. I need resistance training.
What did you see today?
4/06/2010
I heard about a medical appointment
Context
A coworker who was in my office today mentioned that she wouldn't be available for something because she had a doctor's appointment in Dallas she'd made a year ago. As the day went on I grew increasingly curious about what sort of medical appointment one would make a year in advance.
Commentary
If you think I'm going to satisfy your curiosity about what kind of medical appointment is made a year in advance, I have bad news for you for two reasons:
1) I don't know.
2) It's someone's medical appointment, for crying out loud!
Anyway, my intent is to blog about my curiosity. I have always been enormously curious. The "open my eyes" aspect of this blog is never a burden on me; I'm constantly trying to see what's going on and why, especially when it comes to people. It's the main reason I studied history at Rice: the opportunity to find out what people did in a given situation, and better yet, how it turned out, was well-nigh irresistible to me.
Nothing wrong with curiosity since I'm not a cat, but in my case it can lead to snooping. My curiosity about what makes people tick has lead me to read diaries, eavesdrop on private conversations and, on one memorable occasion, read a series of love letters between a coworker and someone who was decidedly not her husband.
Please understand, I don't snoop in order to exert any power over a person, either in terms of blackmail or gossip. Frankly, in order to use any secrets I learn I would have to reveal how I came by the knowledge and that's just plain embarrassing. Nope, it really is just a case of me saying, "Oh! That's what's going on in that person's life. Interesting." In fact, if I wanted to justify myself I could even say that it gives me some insights that help me love my brothers and sisters in Christ more.
Except that it doesn't, any more than rape helps spark a romantic relationship. I was so pleased, by the way, when General Hospital finally dealt with that. I know it was hard to tarnish one of their supercouples, but seriously!
Anyway, snooping is information rape: it takes something from a person that they might have offered willingly without giving him/her a choice in the matter. It's not only violence, it's laziness, in the sense of not taking the time to cultivate a relationship where intimacies are shared as equals. So I think it's better to live with a little unsatisfied curiosity than to feed vampirically off someone else's emotional life.
What did you hear today?
A coworker who was in my office today mentioned that she wouldn't be available for something because she had a doctor's appointment in Dallas she'd made a year ago. As the day went on I grew increasingly curious about what sort of medical appointment one would make a year in advance.
Commentary
If you think I'm going to satisfy your curiosity about what kind of medical appointment is made a year in advance, I have bad news for you for two reasons:
1) I don't know.
2) It's someone's medical appointment, for crying out loud!
Anyway, my intent is to blog about my curiosity. I have always been enormously curious. The "open my eyes" aspect of this blog is never a burden on me; I'm constantly trying to see what's going on and why, especially when it comes to people. It's the main reason I studied history at Rice: the opportunity to find out what people did in a given situation, and better yet, how it turned out, was well-nigh irresistible to me.
Nothing wrong with curiosity since I'm not a cat, but in my case it can lead to snooping. My curiosity about what makes people tick has lead me to read diaries, eavesdrop on private conversations and, on one memorable occasion, read a series of love letters between a coworker and someone who was decidedly not her husband.
Please understand, I don't snoop in order to exert any power over a person, either in terms of blackmail or gossip. Frankly, in order to use any secrets I learn I would have to reveal how I came by the knowledge and that's just plain embarrassing. Nope, it really is just a case of me saying, "Oh! That's what's going on in that person's life. Interesting." In fact, if I wanted to justify myself I could even say that it gives me some insights that help me love my brothers and sisters in Christ more.
Except that it doesn't, any more than rape helps spark a romantic relationship. I was so pleased, by the way, when General Hospital finally dealt with that. I know it was hard to tarnish one of their supercouples, but seriously!
Anyway, snooping is information rape: it takes something from a person that they might have offered willingly without giving him/her a choice in the matter. It's not only violence, it's laziness, in the sense of not taking the time to cultivate a relationship where intimacies are shared as equals. So I think it's better to live with a little unsatisfied curiosity than to feed vampirically off someone else's emotional life.
What did you hear today?
3/19/2010
I saw a lack of capitalization
Context
I did New Staff Orientations for five new library employees today. Part of the orientation is filling out a time sheet on the computer and printing it out to be turned in to payroll. Two of the students typed their names on the paysheet in all lower-case letters.
Commentary
When I saw my students not capitalizing their names, I had three progressively softer reactions:
1) This is bad grammar.
2) This is inappropriate grammar; i.e. there are some circumstances where lower case is OK for names, like for e-mail addresses or if you're e.e. cummings, but this is not one of them.
3) This is a stylistic choice that makes no difference in this context. After all, it wasn't going to keep anybody from getting paid or anything.
I think the fact that #3 was definitely true but I still had reactions #1 and #2 says something about me. Ah well, I notice stuff; that's my job.
So since I do notice, I wonder what typing your name in lower-case says about the students in question. Specifically, is it really a stylistic choice, or does the person not know any better? Actually, that second choice could be divided in two: does the person not know names are traditionally capitalized in English grammar (Yeesh! I hope not!) or do they not know how to capitalize on a computer (still sad, but not as sad)? From an educational standpoint, the answers to these questions are important. Ignorance requires a remedy, but stylistic choices can be the start of a student-teacher dialog on different modes of expression.
I'm reminded of when I taught in a minority-dominated high school in the late 1980s. We used to agonize over whether some of what we were teaching was tantamount to expecting students to deny their native cultures. Over time, I came to believe that my job was to offer the kids the tools to make an informed choice: if they chose to adopt the values and habits of the dominant culture, their lives might be enriched in some ways and impoverished in others. Either way, they go in with their eyes open. Which is always a good idea.
What did you see today?
I did New Staff Orientations for five new library employees today. Part of the orientation is filling out a time sheet on the computer and printing it out to be turned in to payroll. Two of the students typed their names on the paysheet in all lower-case letters.
Commentary
When I saw my students not capitalizing their names, I had three progressively softer reactions:
1) This is bad grammar.
2) This is inappropriate grammar; i.e. there are some circumstances where lower case is OK for names, like for e-mail addresses or if you're e.e. cummings, but this is not one of them.
3) This is a stylistic choice that makes no difference in this context. After all, it wasn't going to keep anybody from getting paid or anything.
I think the fact that #3 was definitely true but I still had reactions #1 and #2 says something about me. Ah well, I notice stuff; that's my job.
So since I do notice, I wonder what typing your name in lower-case says about the students in question. Specifically, is it really a stylistic choice, or does the person not know any better? Actually, that second choice could be divided in two: does the person not know names are traditionally capitalized in English grammar (Yeesh! I hope not!) or do they not know how to capitalize on a computer (still sad, but not as sad)? From an educational standpoint, the answers to these questions are important. Ignorance requires a remedy, but stylistic choices can be the start of a student-teacher dialog on different modes of expression.
I'm reminded of when I taught in a minority-dominated high school in the late 1980s. We used to agonize over whether some of what we were teaching was tantamount to expecting students to deny their native cultures. Over time, I came to believe that my job was to offer the kids the tools to make an informed choice: if they chose to adopt the values and habits of the dominant culture, their lives might be enriched in some ways and impoverished in others. Either way, they go in with their eyes open. Which is always a good idea.
What did you see today?
2/04/2010
I saw an irate message
Context
A few days ago I received a call from a library patron who was puzzled because she couldn't use our Overdrive service. After investigation, I let her know that was because she held a Green Gold card. These cards are issued to patrons whose home library is in a parish near ours and allow the bearer access to our physical resources, but not our electronic ones.
The patron was dismayed by this for two reasons:
1) The Overdrive service was the only reason she had applied for the card, so she could have saved herself a trip from Minden to Shreveport.
2) Her friend had applied for the same reason, and she wasn't being blocked.
I apologized for our mistake in not explaining the Green Gold restrictions better and, trying to cover all bases, asked the patron if she wanted to rat out her friend so I could block her. The patron said, "No." The next day I received a message from a fellow staff member letting me know who the "friend" was. I had not solicited this information, but I used it to go ahead and block the second woman.
Today this e-mail the friend's husband sent the message to the "support" link on the Overdrive website. Messages sent to this link go to an account that everyone in our department reads.
"Well it seems the rumor is true. We heard that even with the Green Card and a membership in the Shreve Library, we were going to be cut off. You see we live in Minden, and made 2 trips to the Shreve Library with the intent of joining to be able to download E-Books. This was addressed up front and approved and now we are shut off. I am really disappointed. You see we spend probably more money in Shreveport than we do in Minden so its not like we don't support your city. I served 20 years in the Air Force and I don't recall saying I would not help if Shreveport was bombed or in some sort of trouble. I served my country including Shreveport. If us checking out an E-Book puts your system in that much of a bind then God have mercy on your city. Its all about greed from the man on the street to the Mayor and President. Thank goodness I don't live and die for your perfect city. Oh yes, card #[redacted] is the account and good luck on your greed."
Commentary
I could of course make many, many comments about the e-mail message above, and I'd be lying if I said we didn't pass the message around and make several of those remarks this morning, to general hilarity.
However, I'm more interested in talking about my immediate response when I saw the message. I started thinking of several replies I wanted to make to the patron and I could feel my pulse racing right along with my brain. In other words, a fight or flight response (as is customary for me, I was leaning toward "fight").
This was irrational. First of all, I'm a religious pacifist (yes, I'm reusing links from previous entries, cope!). Also, under no conceivable set of circumstances was I facing a threat. Truthfully, the circumstances should have provoked no other response but laughter and pity, but there it is. I didn't behave violently, but my body wanted to. My pacifist principles only go so far; they don't completely change my makeup. In fact, the Bible says my subsequent snarkiness does constitute violence.
Where does that leave me? Mindful of how wrong my immediate reaction to a situation can be, for one thing. Glad to be a Christian for another. I can say, along with the apostle Paul, that the good I would do, I do not do (another version here). Some people may think of this as a cop-out; I think it's just a realistic assessment of how badly we need the grace and love of our Father.
What did you see today?
A few days ago I received a call from a library patron who was puzzled because she couldn't use our Overdrive service. After investigation, I let her know that was because she held a Green Gold card. These cards are issued to patrons whose home library is in a parish near ours and allow the bearer access to our physical resources, but not our electronic ones.
The patron was dismayed by this for two reasons:
1) The Overdrive service was the only reason she had applied for the card, so she could have saved herself a trip from Minden to Shreveport.
2) Her friend had applied for the same reason, and she wasn't being blocked.
I apologized for our mistake in not explaining the Green Gold restrictions better and, trying to cover all bases, asked the patron if she wanted to rat out her friend so I could block her. The patron said, "No." The next day I received a message from a fellow staff member letting me know who the "friend" was. I had not solicited this information, but I used it to go ahead and block the second woman.
Today this e-mail the friend's husband sent the message to the "support" link on the Overdrive website. Messages sent to this link go to an account that everyone in our department reads.
"Well it seems the rumor is true. We heard that even with the Green Card and a membership in the Shreve Library, we were going to be cut off. You see we live in Minden, and made 2 trips to the Shreve Library with the intent of joining to be able to download E-Books. This was addressed up front and approved and now we are shut off. I am really disappointed. You see we spend probably more money in Shreveport than we do in Minden so its not like we don't support your city. I served 20 years in the Air Force and I don't recall saying I would not help if Shreveport was bombed or in some sort of trouble. I served my country including Shreveport. If us checking out an E-Book puts your system in that much of a bind then God have mercy on your city. Its all about greed from the man on the street to the Mayor and President. Thank goodness I don't live and die for your perfect city. Oh yes, card #[redacted] is the account and good luck on your greed."
Commentary
I could of course make many, many comments about the e-mail message above, and I'd be lying if I said we didn't pass the message around and make several of those remarks this morning, to general hilarity.
However, I'm more interested in talking about my immediate response when I saw the message. I started thinking of several replies I wanted to make to the patron and I could feel my pulse racing right along with my brain. In other words, a fight or flight response (as is customary for me, I was leaning toward "fight").
This was irrational. First of all, I'm a religious pacifist (yes, I'm reusing links from previous entries, cope!). Also, under no conceivable set of circumstances was I facing a threat. Truthfully, the circumstances should have provoked no other response but laughter and pity, but there it is. I didn't behave violently, but my body wanted to. My pacifist principles only go so far; they don't completely change my makeup. In fact, the Bible says my subsequent snarkiness does constitute violence.
Where does that leave me? Mindful of how wrong my immediate reaction to a situation can be, for one thing. Glad to be a Christian for another. I can say, along with the apostle Paul, that the good I would do, I do not do (another version here). Some people may think of this as a cop-out; I think it's just a realistic assessment of how badly we need the grace and love of our Father.
What did you see today?
8/14/2009
I saw a discussion of blame
Context
I sent out an e-mail to the staff of our Main Library today to let them know about a computer glitch we thought might affect patrons and taking responsibility on behalf of my department. The director of the library, being a nice guy, sent an e-mail back saying, "No one is to blame here." Then, because it was Friday afternoon, we got into a silly discussion of who really was to blame. We decided on the framers of the Constitution.
Commentary
OK, you had to be there. But I understand Dr. Heezen's intent, as it mirrors something I often say, "I'm not interested in assessing blame; I want to solve the problem." On the other hand, in order to prevent a problem from recurring it's often necessary to know who caused it in the first place. Plus I'm a firm believer, with Samuel Smiles, that a mistake is the best opportunity for learning on the planet.
So is there a way to get to get the benefits of assigning responsibility for errors without oppressing those guilty of them? There may be, if we stick to some basic principles:
1) Assessing responsibility is not the end of the story. It's the beginning of a process of improvement that ideally includes not just the person who made the error, but also anyone who can help her/him prevent it in the future, like a trainer, copy editor or beta tester (Yup, that's what we needed today!).
2) You cannot judge a person's character by one of his/her actions. A person who makes a mistake is not a screw-up, anymore than a person who drinks a glass of water is the ocean.
3) The person who bore the brunt of the consequences of a mistake may not be ideal for helping the person responsible recover. AA step 9 is to make amends to the people you've wronged, but you don't usually ask those people to be your sponsor. A disinterested third-party often brings a more solution-oriented perspective.
What did you see today?
I sent out an e-mail to the staff of our Main Library today to let them know about a computer glitch we thought might affect patrons and taking responsibility on behalf of my department. The director of the library, being a nice guy, sent an e-mail back saying, "No one is to blame here." Then, because it was Friday afternoon, we got into a silly discussion of who really was to blame. We decided on the framers of the Constitution.
Commentary
OK, you had to be there. But I understand Dr. Heezen's intent, as it mirrors something I often say, "I'm not interested in assessing blame; I want to solve the problem." On the other hand, in order to prevent a problem from recurring it's often necessary to know who caused it in the first place. Plus I'm a firm believer, with Samuel Smiles, that a mistake is the best opportunity for learning on the planet.
So is there a way to get to get the benefits of assigning responsibility for errors without oppressing those guilty of them? There may be, if we stick to some basic principles:
1) Assessing responsibility is not the end of the story. It's the beginning of a process of improvement that ideally includes not just the person who made the error, but also anyone who can help her/him prevent it in the future, like a trainer, copy editor or beta tester (Yup, that's what we needed today!).
2) You cannot judge a person's character by one of his/her actions. A person who makes a mistake is not a screw-up, anymore than a person who drinks a glass of water is the ocean.
3) The person who bore the brunt of the consequences of a mistake may not be ideal for helping the person responsible recover. AA step 9 is to make amends to the people you've wronged, but you don't usually ask those people to be your sponsor. A disinterested third-party often brings a more solution-oriented perspective.
What did you see today?
7/06/2009
I heard a co-worker describe a work situation
Context
As part of a meeting at the library today, one of my co-workers was talking about the flow of items from Acquisitions to Cataloging. Shreve Memorial's website doesn't have pages for these two departments, but if they did, they'd probably look something like this and this. My co-worker's description of the situation was so self-effacing ("It's perfectly all right if we do it this way,") that we had trouble figuring out her preference. Once we did, we immediately put what she wanted into effect.
Commentary
I have resolved that if anyone ever asks me to lead a meeting, I'm going to put two signs up in plain sight, one saying, "We're seeking the best solution, not a perfect solution," and one saying, "Make sure you're answering the question that was asked." I've now decided to add a third: "Don't start your negotiation with what you'll settle for." I think this one, unlike the other two, might be controversial so I've already worked out some responses to potential objections:
Potential objection #1 - "It's nice to be flexible when you're negotiating, so I should show I am from the very beginning." I certainly agree with the first part of this statement and maybe the second as well, but I also think that negotiation is intended as a reconciliation of of different viewpoints. If you start off embracing all viewpoints, it's not a negotiation, it's a summation. On the other hand, if you state clearly what you want from the get-go you may find, as we did in my co-worker's case, that no negotiation is needed at all. Even if it is, the process can go forward with the concrete goal of truly satisfying as many needs as possible, which is kind of difficult when someone says, "I'll be happy with anything."
Potential objection #2 - "I'm saving effort by stating what's good enough at the start." This is certainly true, but you may end up looking either lazy ("It's too hard to go through the process of working things out.") or possessed of a martyr complex ("Nobody's going to do what I want so I'll just sacrifice. Again.). There's a fine line between the laudable goal of making a negotiation more efficient and contemptible one of circumventing it. I think it's easier to stay on the right side of the line if all parties make decisions about acceptable process instead of one person taking the burden on all by herself.
What did you see today?
As part of a meeting at the library today, one of my co-workers was talking about the flow of items from Acquisitions to Cataloging. Shreve Memorial's website doesn't have pages for these two departments, but if they did, they'd probably look something like this and this. My co-worker's description of the situation was so self-effacing ("It's perfectly all right if we do it this way,") that we had trouble figuring out her preference. Once we did, we immediately put what she wanted into effect.
Commentary
I have resolved that if anyone ever asks me to lead a meeting, I'm going to put two signs up in plain sight, one saying, "We're seeking the best solution, not a perfect solution," and one saying, "Make sure you're answering the question that was asked." I've now decided to add a third: "Don't start your negotiation with what you'll settle for." I think this one, unlike the other two, might be controversial so I've already worked out some responses to potential objections:
Potential objection #1 - "It's nice to be flexible when you're negotiating, so I should show I am from the very beginning." I certainly agree with the first part of this statement and maybe the second as well, but I also think that negotiation is intended as a reconciliation of of different viewpoints. If you start off embracing all viewpoints, it's not a negotiation, it's a summation. On the other hand, if you state clearly what you want from the get-go you may find, as we did in my co-worker's case, that no negotiation is needed at all. Even if it is, the process can go forward with the concrete goal of truly satisfying as many needs as possible, which is kind of difficult when someone says, "I'll be happy with anything."
Potential objection #2 - "I'm saving effort by stating what's good enough at the start." This is certainly true, but you may end up looking either lazy ("It's too hard to go through the process of working things out.") or possessed of a martyr complex ("Nobody's going to do what I want so I'll just sacrifice. Again.). There's a fine line between the laudable goal of making a negotiation more efficient and contemptible one of circumventing it. I think it's easier to stay on the right side of the line if all parties make decisions about acceptable process instead of one person taking the burden on all by herself.
What did you see today?
6/23/2009
I saw a plea for advocacy.
Context
I was reading PUBLIB today. I've commented on it at least twice before, here and here. In this post the writer is trying to use the nationwide network of PUBLIB subscribers to find as many people in Ohio as she can to advocate for continued funding for libraries in that state.
Commentary
Even though I'm a librarian, I don't usually advocate for increased spending for libraries. Increased use of libraries, sure, but seeking more funding seems a little too self-serving to me, like I'm saying, "Please support my livelihood!"
Upon further consideration, I don't usually advocate for higher government spending anywhere. I know that if I were official receiving these calls I'd be awfully tempted to ask, "OK, where would you like me to cut funding in order to increase it for your pet cause?" I'm not an absolutist when it comes to governments having balanced budgets, but I do know there's no such thing as free money and I hate to advocate for something without considering the adverse effects it may have on other people's lives.
Of course, if a politician really did ask me this question I'd give the President Clinton answer (as quoted in this article, down towards the bottom): "Don't cut anything. Tax me more." It really is ridiculous how little I pay in taxes, given how much I make. When I was looking up this quote on the internet, I was flabbergasted to discover that several states (but not Louisiana) really do have Tax Me More provisions and the Treasury Department takes donations as well. I guess it's time for me to put my money where my mouth is. That's right anti-tax folk, I said "my" money.
What did you see today?
I was reading PUBLIB today. I've commented on it at least twice before, here and here. In this post the writer is trying to use the nationwide network of PUBLIB subscribers to find as many people in Ohio as she can to advocate for continued funding for libraries in that state.
Commentary
Even though I'm a librarian, I don't usually advocate for increased spending for libraries. Increased use of libraries, sure, but seeking more funding seems a little too self-serving to me, like I'm saying, "Please support my livelihood!"
Upon further consideration, I don't usually advocate for higher government spending anywhere. I know that if I were official receiving these calls I'd be awfully tempted to ask, "OK, where would you like me to cut funding in order to increase it for your pet cause?" I'm not an absolutist when it comes to governments having balanced budgets, but I do know there's no such thing as free money and I hate to advocate for something without considering the adverse effects it may have on other people's lives.
Of course, if a politician really did ask me this question I'd give the President Clinton answer (as quoted in this article, down towards the bottom): "Don't cut anything. Tax me more." It really is ridiculous how little I pay in taxes, given how much I make. When I was looking up this quote on the internet, I was flabbergasted to discover that several states (but not Louisiana) really do have Tax Me More provisions and the Treasury Department takes donations as well. I guess it's time for me to put my money where my mouth is. That's right anti-tax folk, I said "my" money.
What did you see today?
6/10/2009
I saw routing flags
Context
Because Shreve Memorial Library has 20 branches and uses a hub-and-spoke model to move materials around(similar to this one, but we try not to lose your luggage ;-)), we have pre-printed, color-coded routing flags that we stick in and sometimes on materials that say where they're going. The problem is, once the item arrives at its destination, the flag becomes temporarily useless. Nobody is trying to send things from the Main Library to the Main Library, after all. So each branch, when they've received a sizable number of these things with their name on them, bundles the flags up and sends them back to the Main Library hub. Our Interlibrary Loans Department is normally responsible for routing both the traveling material and the flags themselves.
I occasionally receive items (correspondence or pieces of hardware I need to look at) with Main Library flags attached to them. Since I receive so few I don't bother to give them to Interlibrary Loans; I just drop them off at the next branch I happen to visit. So I was looking at the three or four flags sitting on my desk awaiting redistribution today.
Commentary
I am not much of an environmentalist. I like to think this is not a character flaw on my part, but just a question of some other aspects of life taking higher priority. However, I do like the "reduce, reuse, recycle" mantra and try to apply it when I can. That's why I like the routing flags; they are single scraps of paper that can be reused over and over again.
So there's something that some of my coworkers do that drives me straight up a wall: they write my name and/or my floor on the flag, which renders it un-reusable. Oh sure, I'm going to be sent more mail at some point in the future, but no one's going to hold on to the routing flag with my name on it waiting for that eventuality. The floor designation's unnecessary anyway; it's Interlibrary Loans' job to know where everyone is in the Main Library. And if you want to attach my name, use a separate piece of paper; don't invalidate the routing flag! See, I told you I get up in arms about this.
So as I was looking at the unsullied, still-reusable flags on my desk, I was wondering why people don't just "do right" in this respect. It's something I frequently wonder about and I've come to the following conclusion: it's because they don't see the world the way I do. There is some quantity of people that don't look at an item that can easily be reused and say to themselves, "I should do everything I can to make that happen."
My first instinct in situations like this is to ponder what I can do to make people change. 45 years of life experience have actually taught me the answer: nothing. The good news is, recent religious exploration has convinced me that it's not only impossible to make everyone conform to my view of the world, it's not even desirable.
God is vast and vastly creative. No one person can perceive, appreciate and participate in all that He is doing. So our different ways of seeing the world are a gift we can offer to the Lord and to each other. For example, when I interact with a friend who thinks airline travel is immoral because of the ecological impact, I get to learn that just owning a Prius isn't enough to call myself an environmentalist, and she gets to see that people can hold other priorities in good faith, like wanting to build community through travel. Everybody gets to grow!
Share with me what you saw today!
Because Shreve Memorial Library has 20 branches and uses a hub-and-spoke model to move materials around(similar to this one, but we try not to lose your luggage ;-)), we have pre-printed, color-coded routing flags that we stick in and sometimes on materials that say where they're going. The problem is, once the item arrives at its destination, the flag becomes temporarily useless. Nobody is trying to send things from the Main Library to the Main Library, after all. So each branch, when they've received a sizable number of these things with their name on them, bundles the flags up and sends them back to the Main Library hub. Our Interlibrary Loans Department is normally responsible for routing both the traveling material and the flags themselves.
I occasionally receive items (correspondence or pieces of hardware I need to look at) with Main Library flags attached to them. Since I receive so few I don't bother to give them to Interlibrary Loans; I just drop them off at the next branch I happen to visit. So I was looking at the three or four flags sitting on my desk awaiting redistribution today.
Commentary
I am not much of an environmentalist. I like to think this is not a character flaw on my part, but just a question of some other aspects of life taking higher priority. However, I do like the "reduce, reuse, recycle" mantra and try to apply it when I can. That's why I like the routing flags; they are single scraps of paper that can be reused over and over again.
So there's something that some of my coworkers do that drives me straight up a wall: they write my name and/or my floor on the flag, which renders it un-reusable. Oh sure, I'm going to be sent more mail at some point in the future, but no one's going to hold on to the routing flag with my name on it waiting for that eventuality. The floor designation's unnecessary anyway; it's Interlibrary Loans' job to know where everyone is in the Main Library. And if you want to attach my name, use a separate piece of paper; don't invalidate the routing flag! See, I told you I get up in arms about this.
So as I was looking at the unsullied, still-reusable flags on my desk, I was wondering why people don't just "do right" in this respect. It's something I frequently wonder about and I've come to the following conclusion: it's because they don't see the world the way I do. There is some quantity of people that don't look at an item that can easily be reused and say to themselves, "I should do everything I can to make that happen."
My first instinct in situations like this is to ponder what I can do to make people change. 45 years of life experience have actually taught me the answer: nothing. The good news is, recent religious exploration has convinced me that it's not only impossible to make everyone conform to my view of the world, it's not even desirable.
God is vast and vastly creative. No one person can perceive, appreciate and participate in all that He is doing. So our different ways of seeing the world are a gift we can offer to the Lord and to each other. For example, when I interact with a friend who thinks airline travel is immoral because of the ecological impact, I get to learn that just owning a Prius isn't enough to call myself an environmentalist, and she gets to see that people can hold other priorities in good faith, like wanting to build community through travel. Everybody gets to grow!
Share with me what you saw today!
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