Context
I'm reading The Social Life of Information by John Seely Brown and Paul Duguid. This book contends that the belief that more information, especially in the form of the internet, will somehow solve all our problems is at least premature, if not hopelessly naive. I've just finished a section where the authors talk about the intricacies of negotiation, pointing out that human beings makes thousands of implicit negotiations every day, and that we only resort to rule-based decision making, the kind computers are really good at, when those fail. As an example, they point out that committees often have to make rules about how to communicate, like who can talk for how long, but groups of friends usually do not.
Commentary
The idea of rule-based decision making and negotiation got me to thinking about the rule of law. Patriotism is a challenging concept for me. I like being an American because I think we have a kick-ass constitution, not because of any loyalty to a geographic or cultural entity. Does the U.S. even have a culture? Our embrace of multiculturalism maybe, but I digress. Anyway, I like the rule of law in this country.
On the other hand, I'm a Quaker, and as a matter of practice, we abjure some of the things the Constitution prescribes. For example, Quakers don't vote when doing church business. In my experience, Quakers vote like mad in the national elections, but that's a separate issue. Anyway, in our meetings for worship with attention to business (We're a simple people, but we like the names of things to be painfully precise.), we make decisions by "sense of the meeting." This means we work together until we find an answer that resonates with everyone participating in the process, rather than voting, which produces winners and losers.
If you ask a dozen Quakers why we do things this way, there's a good chance you'll get at least ten different answers. Christian Quakers often believe that a collective answer is more likely to reflect the will of God. In my case, I specifically hark back to the wrong turn the children of Israel made when they told God they no longer wanted their disputes settled and armies led by the itinerant judges He raised up among them. They wanted a permanent hereditary king, like all the other cool nations had. The extra level of remove from the Lord did not work out well for them.
Quakers who are not explicitly Christian sometimes still invoke the mystical aspect of collective decision-making, even if the mystery is not attributed to a particular deity. Even non-Quakers sometimes adopt the "sense of the meeting" language to their secular business dealings, in the belief that consensus (or in the case of the International Monetary Fund pretending to have consensus) serves better than conflict when expecting people to work together.
So I like the rule of law, but I avoid using it whenever I can. Brown and Duguid point out computers can't manage the slight change-of-course negotiations people navigate with ease because these depend on shared values and trust, which machines can neither create nor maintain. And there's the rub: the moment we turn to the rule of law, which is the set "If you cross this line, these consequences will happen," way of looking at the world, we give up human connection in order to take a chance on "being right." Which one is really more valuable?
What did you see today?
Showing posts with label manners. Show all posts
Showing posts with label manners. Show all posts
10/14/2012
7/24/2012
I saw reaction to an obituary
Context
Sally Ride died yesterday. I didn't know this until I was looking at The Huffington Post for another reason and saw the headline to this article. I didn't read the article, but understood from the headline that Sally Ride was a lesbian. About 15 seconds later, I saw the headline to this article about some reactions in the LGBTQ community to a memorial tweet by Mitt Romney. This time I actually clicked through to the article in question.
Commentary
My first response to the Twitter fight referenced above was puzzlement. I thought that the fact that people were getting angry meant that Romney had said something derogatory about Sally Ride's sexual orientation on his Twitter account. But no, just the standard, "We've lost an American hero today" stuff. So the retweets seemed to be saying, "Because you haven't fully supported equality for homosexuals, you don't get to honor them when they die."
On the face of it, I though the reaction was crazy for two reasons:
1) It was unfair. I don't know the exact timing of Romney's tweet, but I get the impression that Sally Ride did not come out of the closet to the general public while she was alive. There is every reason to believe the presumptive Republican nominee didn't even know she was gay when he tweeted about her. And if you're going to blame him for that, you're too far gone for me to even talk to you.
2) It was ungracious. When someone says he admires you or holds a door open for you, you thank him politely. You don't spit in his face.
My husband contends that the offended members of the LGBTQ might have been saying that tweeting about someone's death is somewhat self-aggrandizing, unlike sending a private note of condolence to the family. It's kind of like mentioning Sally Ride's death at the beginning of your stump speech for the day. It acknowledges the loss, sure, but also ties it to your current endeavors. So the retweeters respond, "Nuh-uh, you don't get to hitch your wagon to our star!" and that might be a reasonable response.
We have so many ways of communicating these days and mass communication is becoming increasingly massive in both its reach and its accessibility. Telling everyone how you're feeling has become simple, as has gathering everyone's response. Even things that really should be private, like letting someone know you're breaking up with him, end up happening through Facebook.
Which brings me to God. Generally speaking, although I'm pretty sure He can, God does not engage in mass communication, except in the person of Jesus. Usually, when the Almighty speaks from a place of divinity, He gives a personalized message to one person. Now, that person often passes the message on to a crowd, in which case we call him/her a prophet, but some of the best Bible stories derive from private communication between an individual and her/his Lord: the Magnificat; Jesus telling the woman, "Your sins are forgiven;" even Jonah's argument with God about job satisfaction. I'm not saying I know why God chooses to communicate this way, but I think it does bring home the idea the manner in which we deliver a message can be as telling as its content.
What did you see today?
Sally Ride died yesterday. I didn't know this until I was looking at The Huffington Post for another reason and saw the headline to this article. I didn't read the article, but understood from the headline that Sally Ride was a lesbian. About 15 seconds later, I saw the headline to this article about some reactions in the LGBTQ community to a memorial tweet by Mitt Romney. This time I actually clicked through to the article in question.
Commentary
My first response to the Twitter fight referenced above was puzzlement. I thought that the fact that people were getting angry meant that Romney had said something derogatory about Sally Ride's sexual orientation on his Twitter account. But no, just the standard, "We've lost an American hero today" stuff. So the retweets seemed to be saying, "Because you haven't fully supported equality for homosexuals, you don't get to honor them when they die."
On the face of it, I though the reaction was crazy for two reasons:
1) It was unfair. I don't know the exact timing of Romney's tweet, but I get the impression that Sally Ride did not come out of the closet to the general public while she was alive. There is every reason to believe the presumptive Republican nominee didn't even know she was gay when he tweeted about her. And if you're going to blame him for that, you're too far gone for me to even talk to you.
2) It was ungracious. When someone says he admires you or holds a door open for you, you thank him politely. You don't spit in his face.
My husband contends that the offended members of the LGBTQ might have been saying that tweeting about someone's death is somewhat self-aggrandizing, unlike sending a private note of condolence to the family. It's kind of like mentioning Sally Ride's death at the beginning of your stump speech for the day. It acknowledges the loss, sure, but also ties it to your current endeavors. So the retweeters respond, "Nuh-uh, you don't get to hitch your wagon to our star!" and that might be a reasonable response.
We have so many ways of communicating these days and mass communication is becoming increasingly massive in both its reach and its accessibility. Telling everyone how you're feeling has become simple, as has gathering everyone's response. Even things that really should be private, like letting someone know you're breaking up with him, end up happening through Facebook.
Which brings me to God. Generally speaking, although I'm pretty sure He can, God does not engage in mass communication, except in the person of Jesus. Usually, when the Almighty speaks from a place of divinity, He gives a personalized message to one person. Now, that person often passes the message on to a crowd, in which case we call him/her a prophet, but some of the best Bible stories derive from private communication between an individual and her/his Lord: the Magnificat; Jesus telling the woman, "Your sins are forgiven;" even Jonah's argument with God about job satisfaction. I'm not saying I know why God chooses to communicate this way, but I think it does bring home the idea the manner in which we deliver a message can be as telling as its content.
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?
4/30/2012
I saw a 3000-word rejection letter
Context
Someone on Help a Reporter Out made reference to a 3000-word rejection letter that was on the internet as an example of something job recruiters shouldn't do. When I sought out the actual contents of this letter, I found them on Gawker, which also included comments from the recipient who forwarded the letter, and two catchy titles.
Commentary
OK, it's official. All of my inspiration comes from HARO now. Plus all that, I deliberately titled today's entry as search engine bait, because "3000 word rejection letter" has become an internet meme. I have lost all my morals.
Anyway, I was surprised at the amount of vitriol thrown at this this list of dos and don'ts from Shea Gunther. In particular, I don't understand the accusations of arrogance and condescension. Both of those terms imply to me, "This guy thinks he's better than his applicants." Perhaps I have too hierarchical a view of the world, but to me, the person who not only has a job but has a job to offer is, in fact, better than the applicants. At least in the job-hunting realm, which is where rejection letters come from. Moreover, I think we can all agree that Mr. Gunther is better at seeking employment than the people whom he apparently encountered who applied for a writing job without proofreading for spelling and punctuation!
I'd like to believe I would not have been offended if I had received this letter. After all, it's obvious from the first paragraph that it was sent to over 900 people. Which means that each of the criticisms contained in it belong to one of three categories:
1) Doesn't apply to me. Water off my back.
2) Might or does apply to me, but not something I want to change. Great, now I know I would not be a good fit at Shea Gunther's place of business.
3) Might or does apply to me, and I didn't know it was a problem. Yippee, something I can fix before my next round of job applications.
So where's the down side to any of these three scenarios?
Is it just considered rude to say, "Some of you are really bad at applying for jobs."? That can't be right, because career advice websites do it all the time. So then it looks like we're mad at Gunther because he actually has some interest in receiving good applications, as opposed to people who are spouting the same old cliches in order to create column inches.
Here's a scale of types of rejection letter I'd like to receive. OK, I don't like to receive any, but you know what I mean. From least-favorite to favorite:
1) Dead silence. Hello, is anybody there? Did you get my application? Does your company still exist?
2) Polite, meaningless form letter. By far the most common of rejections, it gives me no help whatsoever, except to know for sure I didn't get the job.
3) Something like what Shea Gunther wrote. It's like an extra 3000 words of job ad I can build on for the next time!
4) A personalized rejection saying exactly why I didn't get the job. This would be golden, but according to most human resource offices, also actionable. Isn't that great? Someone takes the time to tell me why it wasn't a good fit, and I sue them!
What did you see today?
Someone on Help a Reporter Out made reference to a 3000-word rejection letter that was on the internet as an example of something job recruiters shouldn't do. When I sought out the actual contents of this letter, I found them on Gawker, which also included comments from the recipient who forwarded the letter, and two catchy titles.
Commentary
OK, it's official. All of my inspiration comes from HARO now. Plus all that, I deliberately titled today's entry as search engine bait, because "3000 word rejection letter" has become an internet meme. I have lost all my morals.
Anyway, I was surprised at the amount of vitriol thrown at this this list of dos and don'ts from Shea Gunther. In particular, I don't understand the accusations of arrogance and condescension. Both of those terms imply to me, "This guy thinks he's better than his applicants." Perhaps I have too hierarchical a view of the world, but to me, the person who not only has a job but has a job to offer is, in fact, better than the applicants. At least in the job-hunting realm, which is where rejection letters come from. Moreover, I think we can all agree that Mr. Gunther is better at seeking employment than the people whom he apparently encountered who applied for a writing job without proofreading for spelling and punctuation!
I'd like to believe I would not have been offended if I had received this letter. After all, it's obvious from the first paragraph that it was sent to over 900 people. Which means that each of the criticisms contained in it belong to one of three categories:
1) Doesn't apply to me. Water off my back.
2) Might or does apply to me, but not something I want to change. Great, now I know I would not be a good fit at Shea Gunther's place of business.
3) Might or does apply to me, and I didn't know it was a problem. Yippee, something I can fix before my next round of job applications.
So where's the down side to any of these three scenarios?
Is it just considered rude to say, "Some of you are really bad at applying for jobs."? That can't be right, because career advice websites do it all the time. So then it looks like we're mad at Gunther because he actually has some interest in receiving good applications, as opposed to people who are spouting the same old cliches in order to create column inches.
Here's a scale of types of rejection letter I'd like to receive. OK, I don't like to receive any, but you know what I mean. From least-favorite to favorite:
1) Dead silence. Hello, is anybody there? Did you get my application? Does your company still exist?
2) Polite, meaningless form letter. By far the most common of rejections, it gives me no help whatsoever, except to know for sure I didn't get the job.
3) Something like what Shea Gunther wrote. It's like an extra 3000 words of job ad I can build on for the next time!
4) A personalized rejection saying exactly why I didn't get the job. This would be golden, but according to most human resource offices, also actionable. Isn't that great? Someone takes the time to tell me why it wasn't a good fit, and I sue them!
What did you see today?
12/03/2011
I saw a list of classroom rules
Context
There have been papers littered around the park next to my home for a while now, so I decided to go pick them up and dispose of them. Idly looking at some of them, I realized they were schoolwork for a freshman at our local high school, including a long set of rules for a math class. One of the rules was: don't criticize teachers or administrators.
Commentary
I taught high school for a year after I graduated from college, and discipline was my least favorite aspect of the endeavor. Some of that was surely because I don't like being told what to do and therefore don't like telling people what to do. This characteristic of mine is discussed in more detail in this post, if you'd like a blast from the past.
There was more to it than that, though. There was also the idealistic (and who isn't idealistic when they first get out of college) notion that what I was teaching should be interesting enough that the students wouldn't have to be forced to learn it, which is what classroom management sometimes felt like to me. Even then I realized this couldn't possibly be true all the time, and that even I was subject to discipline more than once from my favorite teacher in high school. To this day, though, it still seems like a good goal to keep in front of me when I teach. So if I concede that some classroom rules are necessary, I would like you to return the favor by understanding that the goals behind the rules are an important educational consideration.
A few weeks ago, I read Whatever It Takes by Paul Tough, which is a book about Geoffrey Canada's efforts to rescue kids in Harlem from the poverty cycle. One of the things the Harlem Children's Zone's Baby College tries to teach parents is to not shut their kids up when they ask questions. After all, as Canada puts it, that's what "rich white kids" do all the time, and it gives them an important step up in formal educational settings. This is a struggle for the parents, though, because they want to emphasize good, respectful behavior, which in their eyes includes not pestering people with questions. These goals are in conflict, but I'm foursquare with the Baby College in believing it's better to be smart and annoying than dumb and pleasant. I will confess to having more personal experience with one side of this equation than the other.
I believe that if you're trying to grow smart kids (and I concede this may or may not be the goal of any given educational institution), you have to be understand that all questions in between the poles of completely innocuous (How are you?) and completely obnoxious (Are you always this idiotic?) spring from a void or a conflict within a person. I ask why the sky is blue because I don't know, but also because it is a different color than the grass and because I know the sky is composed of air and air doesn't look blue when it's right in front of me. In other words, I'm trying to make sense of stuff. Answering my question, or at least acknowledging that it's OK to ask it, teaches me that sensemaking is an appropriate thing to do.
The same thing is true of questioning authority, or criticizing it, as the case may be. If someone's beliefs, experience and/or feelings don't mesh well with what they're being told by someone in charge, saying so is a way of making sense of how the world works. I'm not saying this means those in power always have to accommodate what we want or feel, but there's no reason to pretend we don't have those individual needs. That's why the U.S. Constitution protects our right to talk about these conflicts. I guess I'll just be grateful I was reading the rules for a math class instead of a civics one.
What did you see today?
There have been papers littered around the park next to my home for a while now, so I decided to go pick them up and dispose of them. Idly looking at some of them, I realized they were schoolwork for a freshman at our local high school, including a long set of rules for a math class. One of the rules was: don't criticize teachers or administrators.
Commentary
I taught high school for a year after I graduated from college, and discipline was my least favorite aspect of the endeavor. Some of that was surely because I don't like being told what to do and therefore don't like telling people what to do. This characteristic of mine is discussed in more detail in this post, if you'd like a blast from the past.
There was more to it than that, though. There was also the idealistic (and who isn't idealistic when they first get out of college) notion that what I was teaching should be interesting enough that the students wouldn't have to be forced to learn it, which is what classroom management sometimes felt like to me. Even then I realized this couldn't possibly be true all the time, and that even I was subject to discipline more than once from my favorite teacher in high school. To this day, though, it still seems like a good goal to keep in front of me when I teach. So if I concede that some classroom rules are necessary, I would like you to return the favor by understanding that the goals behind the rules are an important educational consideration.
A few weeks ago, I read Whatever It Takes by Paul Tough, which is a book about Geoffrey Canada's efforts to rescue kids in Harlem from the poverty cycle. One of the things the Harlem Children's Zone's Baby College tries to teach parents is to not shut their kids up when they ask questions. After all, as Canada puts it, that's what "rich white kids" do all the time, and it gives them an important step up in formal educational settings. This is a struggle for the parents, though, because they want to emphasize good, respectful behavior, which in their eyes includes not pestering people with questions. These goals are in conflict, but I'm foursquare with the Baby College in believing it's better to be smart and annoying than dumb and pleasant. I will confess to having more personal experience with one side of this equation than the other.
I believe that if you're trying to grow smart kids (and I concede this may or may not be the goal of any given educational institution), you have to be understand that all questions in between the poles of completely innocuous (How are you?) and completely obnoxious (Are you always this idiotic?) spring from a void or a conflict within a person. I ask why the sky is blue because I don't know, but also because it is a different color than the grass and because I know the sky is composed of air and air doesn't look blue when it's right in front of me. In other words, I'm trying to make sense of stuff. Answering my question, or at least acknowledging that it's OK to ask it, teaches me that sensemaking is an appropriate thing to do.
The same thing is true of questioning authority, or criticizing it, as the case may be. If someone's beliefs, experience and/or feelings don't mesh well with what they're being told by someone in charge, saying so is a way of making sense of how the world works. I'm not saying this means those in power always have to accommodate what we want or feel, but there's no reason to pretend we don't have those individual needs. That's why the U.S. Constitution protects our right to talk about these conflicts. I guess I'll just be grateful I was reading the rules for a math class instead of a civics one.
What did you see today?
6/17/2011
I saw a guy checking out a girl
Context
As I was leaving the library for lunch today, a woman came down in the elevator with me and a tweenish girl who appeared to be her daughter. The younger lady was wearing the tiny shorts that are in vogue these days. As we stepped out into the alley behind the library, a gentleman in his twenties or thirties gave the girl a once-over.
Commentary
I thought the gentleman's scrutiny of the young lady was inappropriate for a couple of reasons: she was much younger than him and, as I said, probably walking with her mother. The fact that he was checking out a stranger also came to mind, but realistically, that happens all the time. Driving While Black is the term we use for unwarranted traffic stops based on the color of one's skin; perhaps I'll coin the term Walking While Female to describe the "She's on the street, therefore she's on display for my enjoyment" mentality.
Which brings me to the shorts. Is it the case that someone wearing short shorts is deliberately putting herself on display? Possibly not, because sometimes clothing that happens to be good-looking also happens to be comfortable, functional, and/or mandatory.
On the other hand, it would be silly for me to say ladies young and old don't ever try to attract male attention with their clothing. For myself, I can think of five different things I'm trying/have tried to say by wearing attractive clothing, "attractive" here being defined as smart, stylish, sexy, or some combination of those.
1) "I'm single and looking. If you're a sufficiently attractive, interesting and well-mannered guy, you're welcome to make a romantic or sexual pitch in my direction."
2) "I feel ugly (or some other kind of 'bad') today. You're welcome to pay some attention to me, as it may raise my self-esteem, but I'm not interesting in starting anything."
3) "I feel pretty (or some other kind of 'good') today. If you want to look at me and share in my general positive mood, yay! Anything beyond a look and a smile will be presumptuous, though."
4) "I'm with my husband and I'm dressed this way so he won't be embarrassed to be seen with me. You're welcome to appreciate his impeccable taste in women."
5) "I'm dressed this way FOR my husband. You're not welcome to participate at all."
Unfortunately, my actual clothing doesn't explicitly convey any of these messages, and it's probably not fair to expect guys to be able to discern the correct explanation in the amount of time it takes me to walk by them. However, I would state that it's equally unfair for a guy to assume any one of them, and refuse to give up that assumption when I make my intentions clear. I'm willing to count a little scrutiny as human nature. More than that without encouragement is just plain rude.
What did you see today?
As I was leaving the library for lunch today, a woman came down in the elevator with me and a tweenish girl who appeared to be her daughter. The younger lady was wearing the tiny shorts that are in vogue these days. As we stepped out into the alley behind the library, a gentleman in his twenties or thirties gave the girl a once-over.
Commentary
I thought the gentleman's scrutiny of the young lady was inappropriate for a couple of reasons: she was much younger than him and, as I said, probably walking with her mother. The fact that he was checking out a stranger also came to mind, but realistically, that happens all the time. Driving While Black is the term we use for unwarranted traffic stops based on the color of one's skin; perhaps I'll coin the term Walking While Female to describe the "She's on the street, therefore she's on display for my enjoyment" mentality.
Which brings me to the shorts. Is it the case that someone wearing short shorts is deliberately putting herself on display? Possibly not, because sometimes clothing that happens to be good-looking also happens to be comfortable, functional, and/or mandatory.
On the other hand, it would be silly for me to say ladies young and old don't ever try to attract male attention with their clothing. For myself, I can think of five different things I'm trying/have tried to say by wearing attractive clothing, "attractive" here being defined as smart, stylish, sexy, or some combination of those.
1) "I'm single and looking. If you're a sufficiently attractive, interesting and well-mannered guy, you're welcome to make a romantic or sexual pitch in my direction."
2) "I feel ugly (or some other kind of 'bad') today. You're welcome to pay some attention to me, as it may raise my self-esteem, but I'm not interesting in starting anything."
3) "I feel pretty (or some other kind of 'good') today. If you want to look at me and share in my general positive mood, yay! Anything beyond a look and a smile will be presumptuous, though."
4) "I'm with my husband and I'm dressed this way so he won't be embarrassed to be seen with me. You're welcome to appreciate his impeccable taste in women."
5) "I'm dressed this way FOR my husband. You're not welcome to participate at all."
Unfortunately, my actual clothing doesn't explicitly convey any of these messages, and it's probably not fair to expect guys to be able to discern the correct explanation in the amount of time it takes me to walk by them. However, I would state that it's equally unfair for a guy to assume any one of them, and refuse to give up that assumption when I make my intentions clear. I'm willing to count a little scrutiny as human nature. More than that without encouragement is just plain rude.
What did you see today?
5/28/2011
I heard an acquaintance disagree with me
Context
Colleagues of my husband's are expecting a baby in August, so we went to a shower for them today. In the course of talking with the man of the couple, I had two disagreements with him strong enough that I felt the need to walk away rather than say something ugly.
Commentary
I like to argue, or at least, I like to debate issues. I'm one of those people who will say things I don't even believe just to make sure the person I'm talking with is considering all possible viewpoints.
For me, the ideal person to debate with is someone who is either equally powerful to me or more powerful in the current situation, because I don't want to oppress someone with my argumentativeness. I also want the person to have an intellect I respect, because then I feel like I can incorporate their reasoning into my future understanding of the issue.
So I'm distressed at a trait I've recently discovered in myself when I'm talking with a person I consider reasonably intelligent. If we disagree about something important to me, there's a good chance I'll reassess the other person's intelligence, rather than my opinion. It doesn't happen all the time, but it feels like an extra inappropriate hurdle I'm making people get over before I'll listen to them respectfully.
What did you hear today?
Colleagues of my husband's are expecting a baby in August, so we went to a shower for them today. In the course of talking with the man of the couple, I had two disagreements with him strong enough that I felt the need to walk away rather than say something ugly.
Commentary
I like to argue, or at least, I like to debate issues. I'm one of those people who will say things I don't even believe just to make sure the person I'm talking with is considering all possible viewpoints.
For me, the ideal person to debate with is someone who is either equally powerful to me or more powerful in the current situation, because I don't want to oppress someone with my argumentativeness. I also want the person to have an intellect I respect, because then I feel like I can incorporate their reasoning into my future understanding of the issue.
So I'm distressed at a trait I've recently discovered in myself when I'm talking with a person I consider reasonably intelligent. If we disagree about something important to me, there's a good chance I'll reassess the other person's intelligence, rather than my opinion. It doesn't happen all the time, but it feels like an extra inappropriate hurdle I'm making people get over before I'll listen to them respectfully.
What did you hear today?
5/23/2011
I heard a child yelling
Context
My house is adjacent to a city park, and as such I get to hear a lot of what goes on out there. Today I heard a child yelling in the park, and as often happens, I couldn't tell if he/she was in distress and if so, whether that distress required my attention. I let it slide and continued on my way to the dry cleaners.
Commentary
For various reasons, not the least because I used to be a Girl Scout and I have my Emergency Preparedness pin, I'm usually quite willing to jump into emergency situations. Car wreck? I'm calling 911, directing traffic, and holding the victim's hand (not at the same time). Turtle crossing the road? I'm jumping out of my car and carrying him across. Hey, you define "emergency" your way; I'll define it mine.
On the other hand, over time I've become much more cautious about getting involved in volatile interpersonal interactions, which are usually what's going on if I hear one person yelling in the park. If someone falls off the slide, I'll usually hear several people yelling, so I know to run out there. But one voice gives me pause.
As I said, this has happened over time. I used to interpose myself in personal conflicts with great glee, confident that I knew exactly what to do. This has changed for several reasons:
1) I'm a religious pacifist now. At one time I was perfectly willing to counter a violent act with one of my own, or at least threaten to. That tool is no longer in my repertoire.
2) I'm very unwilling to give unsolicited advice these days. Partially this is because I hate when people offer it to me, but it's also because I often don't believe it's effective. When someone is having a screaming match with their spouse, I'm don't think they're in a place where they can hear me say they're behaving badly.
3) I'm no longer as convinced of my own righteousness. When someone's drowning, you throw them a rope, of course. But when a mother is smacking her child, and I've experienced this, she has just as much right to tell me I have no idea what her life and her child are like as I do to tell her that corporal punishment is wrong. Neither of us is wrong.
So I stay out of a lot more situations, but I don't like that solution, either. It seems cowardly and apathetic. Lately I've been trying standing near people who are in conflict and watching silently, in hopes of giving a "I'm here, I see, I'm part of what you need to consider" vibe. So I'm opening my eyes but not, unless asked, my mouth. Is that enough?
What did you hear today?
My house is adjacent to a city park, and as such I get to hear a lot of what goes on out there. Today I heard a child yelling in the park, and as often happens, I couldn't tell if he/she was in distress and if so, whether that distress required my attention. I let it slide and continued on my way to the dry cleaners.
Commentary
For various reasons, not the least because I used to be a Girl Scout and I have my Emergency Preparedness pin, I'm usually quite willing to jump into emergency situations. Car wreck? I'm calling 911, directing traffic, and holding the victim's hand (not at the same time). Turtle crossing the road? I'm jumping out of my car and carrying him across. Hey, you define "emergency" your way; I'll define it mine.
On the other hand, over time I've become much more cautious about getting involved in volatile interpersonal interactions, which are usually what's going on if I hear one person yelling in the park. If someone falls off the slide, I'll usually hear several people yelling, so I know to run out there. But one voice gives me pause.
As I said, this has happened over time. I used to interpose myself in personal conflicts with great glee, confident that I knew exactly what to do. This has changed for several reasons:
1) I'm a religious pacifist now. At one time I was perfectly willing to counter a violent act with one of my own, or at least threaten to. That tool is no longer in my repertoire.
2) I'm very unwilling to give unsolicited advice these days. Partially this is because I hate when people offer it to me, but it's also because I often don't believe it's effective. When someone is having a screaming match with their spouse, I'm don't think they're in a place where they can hear me say they're behaving badly.
3) I'm no longer as convinced of my own righteousness. When someone's drowning, you throw them a rope, of course. But when a mother is smacking her child, and I've experienced this, she has just as much right to tell me I have no idea what her life and her child are like as I do to tell her that corporal punishment is wrong. Neither of us is wrong.
So I stay out of a lot more situations, but I don't like that solution, either. It seems cowardly and apathetic. Lately I've been trying standing near people who are in conflict and watching silently, in hopes of giving a "I'm here, I see, I'm part of what you need to consider" vibe. So I'm opening my eyes but not, unless asked, my mouth. Is that enough?
What did you hear 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?
2/15/2011
I saw responses to unwelcome opinions
Context
Today I saw two similar things in different places. First on PUBLIB, an e-mail list for public librarians, I saw a series of inflammatory posts (one example here, but you can find others if you browse the February entries by the same author, Matthew Price), followed by some equally inflammatory responses and several well-considered ones, including this one by Robert Baillot. Then on Slashdot, I saw another discussion initiated by quoting Glenn Beck in one of his more outrageous moods and evolving into a metadiscussion of how to respond to outrageous opinions. By the way, that last link is a little tricky. You may have to do some collapsing and expanding of comments to see what I'm talking about.
Commentary
Almost since the inception of the internet, people have been using it to exchange opinions. And almost since the start of that activity, there have been trolls, which are defined as people who take an inflammatory stand just for the sake of being inflammatory, not because they actually believe it. The perception is that trolls get off on attention or on getting people upset because they think it makes them superior.
The conventional wisdom about this phenomenon is "Don't feed the trolls," i.e. don't encourage their bad behavior by responding, but I was intrigued by the two responses I saw that seemed to fly in the face of that. "Ephemeriis" takes a civic responsibility approach, saying that since Glenn Beck is taken seriously in some quarters, the opposition is obligated to craft a serious rebuttal. Robert Balliot goes him one better by quoting Aristotle to make the point that every idea deserves consideration, even the rantings of a troll.
These responses are challenging to me. I often believe in operant conditioning, or at least the principle I learned from my mother: "If you ignore someone, he'll go away." But is getting someone to go away really my goal? Or is it engagement, where I continue to grapple with the people who drive me crazy in the belief that the God who loves all of us might be trying to tell me something?
What did you see today?
Today I saw two similar things in different places. First on PUBLIB, an e-mail list for public librarians, I saw a series of inflammatory posts (one example here, but you can find others if you browse the February entries by the same author, Matthew Price), followed by some equally inflammatory responses and several well-considered ones, including this one by Robert Baillot. Then on Slashdot, I saw another discussion initiated by quoting Glenn Beck in one of his more outrageous moods and evolving into a metadiscussion of how to respond to outrageous opinions. By the way, that last link is a little tricky. You may have to do some collapsing and expanding of comments to see what I'm talking about.
Commentary
Almost since the inception of the internet, people have been using it to exchange opinions. And almost since the start of that activity, there have been trolls, which are defined as people who take an inflammatory stand just for the sake of being inflammatory, not because they actually believe it. The perception is that trolls get off on attention or on getting people upset because they think it makes them superior.
The conventional wisdom about this phenomenon is "Don't feed the trolls," i.e. don't encourage their bad behavior by responding, but I was intrigued by the two responses I saw that seemed to fly in the face of that. "Ephemeriis" takes a civic responsibility approach, saying that since Glenn Beck is taken seriously in some quarters, the opposition is obligated to craft a serious rebuttal. Robert Balliot goes him one better by quoting Aristotle to make the point that every idea deserves consideration, even the rantings of a troll.
These responses are challenging to me. I often believe in operant conditioning, or at least the principle I learned from my mother: "If you ignore someone, he'll go away." But is getting someone to go away really my goal? Or is it engagement, where I continue to grapple with the people who drive me crazy in the belief that the God who loves all of us might be trying to tell me something?
What did you see today?
11/10/2010
I saw a description of groupings
Context
I read Andrew Sullivan's article about the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear on The Atlantic's website today. In it, he mentions that although we have three major political groups in the United States (Republicans, Democrats and Independents), we also have three cultural one (idealogues, pragmatists, and the totally indifferent).
Commentary
At first I thought I liked the idea of cultural groupings as opposed to political ones because I don't really fit comfortably into a Republican, Democratic, or Independent box. I mean, I usually self-identify as Independent, but as Inigo Montoya would say, "I don't think that word means what you think it means."
"Independent" for me does not imply "centrist," but rather "left of Democratic." I often vote Democrat, but I'll be danged if I'll call myself one! And if I'm completely honest, I have to say I'm sometimes to the right of the average Democrat as well, especially when it comes to intellectual freedom.
On the other hand, I don't really belong exclusively to an idealistic, pragmatic or indifferent culture either. I'm generally pragmatic, but when it comes to certain bedrock principles (peace, integrity, equality, simplicity), I can be just as dogmatic as the next person. And there are some political issues I'm not interested in. Local elections in Shreveport often revolve around code enforcement. I try to care, but I really don't.
No, I think what attracts me to the cultural groupings described by Sullivan is not that they describe me better, but that they seem to allow for a lot more flexibility in our political dialogue. Maybe I'm being all too pragmatic, but doesn't it seem like things would go better if we could just acknowledge these different characteristics in each other?
Try this on for size: "Oh, that's an issue that's of deep personal concern to you and my treating it clinically is not helpful. Go ahead and tell me about your passion and I'll listen because I care about you as a person."
Or maybe: "I can see you're not as vested in this problem as I am, so I won't waste time for both of us trying to bring you over to my side."
Even: "No, I wouldn't dream of calling you a RINO because your interests are different from mine. That would be rude."
What did you see today?
I read Andrew Sullivan's article about the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear on The Atlantic's website today. In it, he mentions that although we have three major political groups in the United States (Republicans, Democrats and Independents), we also have three cultural one (idealogues, pragmatists, and the totally indifferent).
Commentary
At first I thought I liked the idea of cultural groupings as opposed to political ones because I don't really fit comfortably into a Republican, Democratic, or Independent box. I mean, I usually self-identify as Independent, but as Inigo Montoya would say, "I don't think that word means what you think it means."
"Independent" for me does not imply "centrist," but rather "left of Democratic." I often vote Democrat, but I'll be danged if I'll call myself one! And if I'm completely honest, I have to say I'm sometimes to the right of the average Democrat as well, especially when it comes to intellectual freedom.
On the other hand, I don't really belong exclusively to an idealistic, pragmatic or indifferent culture either. I'm generally pragmatic, but when it comes to certain bedrock principles (peace, integrity, equality, simplicity), I can be just as dogmatic as the next person. And there are some political issues I'm not interested in. Local elections in Shreveport often revolve around code enforcement. I try to care, but I really don't.
No, I think what attracts me to the cultural groupings described by Sullivan is not that they describe me better, but that they seem to allow for a lot more flexibility in our political dialogue. Maybe I'm being all too pragmatic, but doesn't it seem like things would go better if we could just acknowledge these different characteristics in each other?
Try this on for size: "Oh, that's an issue that's of deep personal concern to you and my treating it clinically is not helpful. Go ahead and tell me about your passion and I'll listen because I care about you as a person."
Or maybe: "I can see you're not as vested in this problem as I am, so I won't waste time for both of us trying to bring you over to my side."
Even: "No, I wouldn't dream of calling you a RINO because your interests are different from mine. That would be rude."
What did you see today?
7/02/2010
I saw a comment on social standing
Context
It is often the case that when I want to understand a problem better, I find a book on the topic. So now I'm in the middle of reading a book by Hilde Bruch called Conversations with Anorexics. This is a quote I read today: "Paula then went into much detail about the pain of growing up in a small town where she felt not recognized as belonging to a leading family."
Commentary
I grew up in one of the biggest cities in the world. And in a very small town. Let me explain: my family moved to Mexico City when I was eight years old, but because we're Americans most of our social interactions took place within the sizable-for-what-it-is, but still small, English-speaking community.
So my view of my place in the community during those years was different from what it would have been if I'd grown up in the country of my birth where nearly everyone spoke the same language I did. Here's an example: I went to the American School, an expensive, private, college-prep school, which my father's employer paid for as an incentive to accept a foreign assignment. While there, I socialized with the children of diplomats, high-level Mexican government officials (the college prep applied to both U.S. and Mexican institutions), missionaries, and others. These are the kind of people I would have never encountered at the public school a mile away from our family's home in Michigan.
The thing is, at the American School we didn't arrange ourselves according to the social strata our parents belonged to. This may be typical of kids thrown together everywhere, but we used kid standards (athletic prowess, physical beauty, what passes for sophistication when you're twelve, etc.) for status, not adult ones. I went out on a date with the son of the Mexican Secretary of Tourism one time. He was as low on the socially awkward totem pole as I was. On the other hand, there were girls in my social circle who used to belittle my ineptness all the time. It was only with time that I discovered two important realities:
1) My dad was their dad's boss.
2) I was going on to college. They were going back to rural Michigan to get married and have babies.
I am very grateful to my parents for the opportunity to grow up this way. I still feel a little out of place in my native culture (Why oh why don't you people kiss each other to say "Hello"?), but I think it gave me a good perspective on the malleability of social structure and an ability to be comfortable in my own skin under almost any circumstances. And I speak Spanish reasonably well.
¿ Que ha visto usted hoy?
It is often the case that when I want to understand a problem better, I find a book on the topic. So now I'm in the middle of reading a book by Hilde Bruch called Conversations with Anorexics. This is a quote I read today: "Paula then went into much detail about the pain of growing up in a small town where she felt not recognized as belonging to a leading family."
Commentary
I grew up in one of the biggest cities in the world. And in a very small town. Let me explain: my family moved to Mexico City when I was eight years old, but because we're Americans most of our social interactions took place within the sizable-for-what-it-is, but still small, English-speaking community.
So my view of my place in the community during those years was different from what it would have been if I'd grown up in the country of my birth where nearly everyone spoke the same language I did. Here's an example: I went to the American School, an expensive, private, college-prep school, which my father's employer paid for as an incentive to accept a foreign assignment. While there, I socialized with the children of diplomats, high-level Mexican government officials (the college prep applied to both U.S. and Mexican institutions), missionaries, and others. These are the kind of people I would have never encountered at the public school a mile away from our family's home in Michigan.
The thing is, at the American School we didn't arrange ourselves according to the social strata our parents belonged to. This may be typical of kids thrown together everywhere, but we used kid standards (athletic prowess, physical beauty, what passes for sophistication when you're twelve, etc.) for status, not adult ones. I went out on a date with the son of the Mexican Secretary of Tourism one time. He was as low on the socially awkward totem pole as I was. On the other hand, there were girls in my social circle who used to belittle my ineptness all the time. It was only with time that I discovered two important realities:
1) My dad was their dad's boss.
2) I was going on to college. They were going back to rural Michigan to get married and have babies.
I am very grateful to my parents for the opportunity to grow up this way. I still feel a little out of place in my native culture (Why oh why don't you people kiss each other to say "Hello"?), but I think it gave me a good perspective on the malleability of social structure and an ability to be comfortable in my own skin under almost any circumstances. And I speak Spanish reasonably well.
¿ Que ha visto usted hoy?
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?
3/03/2010
I saw a Twitter hashtag
Context
In our opening session at the COSUGI conference today, one of our speakers put up a PowerPoint slide we were encouraging us to Twitter about happenings at the conference under the #cosugi10 hashtag.
Commentary
More conference inspiration!
I don't use Twitter. I've never understood why people who weren't standing next to me would be interested in a random short things I might have to say. Random long things, sure, that's why I have a blog. But I think the short form just lends itself to less consideration.
In fact, as soon as they started talking about the hashtag in my session, I thought of two things I could tweet and they were both unkind. As such, I would have no desire for them to be attached to my name for any period of time after I'd uttered them. And I've learned the lesson many kids haven't: any information you post on the internet could come back to haunt you later.
But what if I expanded this notion? What if I started behaving like anything I said, even just to my closest friends, could come back to haunt me later? After all, God is surely going to hear and remember it. Is that why James puts so much emphasis on controlling our tongues? Maybe the next version of the Bible should say something about tweets as well.
What did you see today?
In our opening session at the COSUGI conference today, one of our speakers put up a PowerPoint slide we were encouraging us to Twitter about happenings at the conference under the #cosugi10 hashtag.
Commentary
More conference inspiration!
I don't use Twitter. I've never understood why people who weren't standing next to me would be interested in a random short things I might have to say. Random long things, sure, that's why I have a blog. But I think the short form just lends itself to less consideration.
In fact, as soon as they started talking about the hashtag in my session, I thought of two things I could tweet and they were both unkind. As such, I would have no desire for them to be attached to my name for any period of time after I'd uttered them. And I've learned the lesson many kids haven't: any information you post on the internet could come back to haunt you later.
But what if I expanded this notion? What if I started behaving like anything I said, even just to my closest friends, could come back to haunt me later? After all, God is surely going to hear and remember it. Is that why James puts so much emphasis on controlling our tongues? Maybe the next version of the Bible should say something about tweets as well.
What did you see today?
10/23/2009
I saw an article about football fans
Context
The Washington Redskins are not having a good season. They're in no danger of breaking the Detroit Lions' futility record, but as I read in this article today, their fans are unhappy. The article refers to a fan briefly holding up a sign saying "Black Sunday," which refers to this Bruce Dern movie, until security personnel took it away.
Commentary
Ah yes, time for another football post! Eight previous ones right here, so enjoy! In this case, though, I don't want to talk about sports. I want to talk about the right to be offensive. My husband read the part of the Redskins article to me about the Black Sunday poster and we both agreed that it's pretty darn tacky to invoke a terrorist attack just because your team's 2-4. On the other hand, we both enjoy some forms of offensive humor (we often think South Park is a stitch and a half, for example), and as comic book readers we often know that what we consider highly creative is considered irredeemable trash by others.
So is it just a matter of taste, or do some people have more of a right to be offensive than others? I don't mean a legal right, but rather an ethical entitlement, someone I'm less likely to accuse of crossing a line of decency, even if I disagree with her/him. In discussing this over dinner, my husband and I came up with three factors that contribute to our acceptance of outrageous speech or behavior:
1) Artistic license. Although this occasionally drives conservatives up the wall, art is expected to be "out there." It's hard to consider a work creative if it follows convention, and unconventional can sometimes shade over into offensive. "Black Sunday" gets some points for creatively expressing just how bad she thought her team was.
2) Putting your name on it. Anonymity when being offensive makes it seem less like you're making a cogent social statement and more like you're surreptitiously tossing spitballs from the back of the classroom. Our Redskins fan falls about in the middle on this one. She didn't put a bag on her head at the stadium, but neither did she hold up a sign that said "I'm Mary Smith and this is what I believe." A Robert Mapplethorpe photograph says "Robert Mapplethorpe" right on it, so you know who to complain to. Or about, since he died 20 years ago.
3) The social contract. If I go to a Lenny Bruce concert and get offended by the cuss words, I'm not really keeping up my end of the bargain. After all, Bruce himself said he wasn't there to get laughs. This is where the lady at the Redskins' game's justification falls completely apart. NFL football is, as they say, "sports entertainment." Invoking terrorism in a place where people generally go to forget the troubles of the real world is not only offensive, it's also kind of mean.
What did you see today?
The Washington Redskins are not having a good season. They're in no danger of breaking the Detroit Lions' futility record, but as I read in this article today, their fans are unhappy. The article refers to a fan briefly holding up a sign saying "Black Sunday," which refers to this Bruce Dern movie, until security personnel took it away.
Commentary
Ah yes, time for another football post! Eight previous ones right here, so enjoy! In this case, though, I don't want to talk about sports. I want to talk about the right to be offensive. My husband read the part of the Redskins article to me about the Black Sunday poster and we both agreed that it's pretty darn tacky to invoke a terrorist attack just because your team's 2-4. On the other hand, we both enjoy some forms of offensive humor (we often think South Park is a stitch and a half, for example), and as comic book readers we often know that what we consider highly creative is considered irredeemable trash by others.
So is it just a matter of taste, or do some people have more of a right to be offensive than others? I don't mean a legal right, but rather an ethical entitlement, someone I'm less likely to accuse of crossing a line of decency, even if I disagree with her/him. In discussing this over dinner, my husband and I came up with three factors that contribute to our acceptance of outrageous speech or behavior:
1) Artistic license. Although this occasionally drives conservatives up the wall, art is expected to be "out there." It's hard to consider a work creative if it follows convention, and unconventional can sometimes shade over into offensive. "Black Sunday" gets some points for creatively expressing just how bad she thought her team was.
2) Putting your name on it. Anonymity when being offensive makes it seem less like you're making a cogent social statement and more like you're surreptitiously tossing spitballs from the back of the classroom. Our Redskins fan falls about in the middle on this one. She didn't put a bag on her head at the stadium, but neither did she hold up a sign that said "I'm Mary Smith and this is what I believe." A Robert Mapplethorpe photograph says "Robert Mapplethorpe" right on it, so you know who to complain to. Or about, since he died 20 years ago.
3) The social contract. If I go to a Lenny Bruce concert and get offended by the cuss words, I'm not really keeping up my end of the bargain. After all, Bruce himself said he wasn't there to get laughs. This is where the lady at the Redskins' game's justification falls completely apart. NFL football is, as they say, "sports entertainment." Invoking terrorism in a place where people generally go to forget the troubles of the real world is not only offensive, it's also kind of mean.
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?
8/04/2009
I saw a TV show about politics
Context
I bought the entire run of The West Wing on DVD recently. Tonight I watched an episode called "Five Votes Down," which was about the West Wing staffers' attempts to get a gun control law passed by Congress.
Commentary
I love The West Wing, so now that I have this set you may be hearing me comment on it a lot!
I'm concerned about gun control. I'm also concerned about health care, the various wars taking place around the globe, and the environment. But after watching the beginning of this episode, which contains the great line "There are two things in the world you never want to let people see how you make 'em - laws and sausages," I've decided to become a one-issue voter. At least for now.
The issue is decency. And I don't mean the "politicians have to adhere to a strict moral code that I can't uphold myself" variety. I mean treating people decently. Being respectful of people you disagree with. Agreeing with people because you believe what they're saying, not because of some potential personal gain in the future. Seeing a person who's been brought low and helping them, even if you warned them in advance that this was where their actions would lead. Not indulging the urge to tear down those who have some advantage over you because you're jealous of their good fortune. Decency.
It may just be that I think our tangible problems are intractable, so I've decided to concentrate on something more ephemeral, but I hope not. I think what's going on here is that I no longer believe we can solve any problems by treating our opponents badly. I'm a pacifist because I believe violence doesn't solve anything, and over time I've learned that violence can take a lot of subtle forms, like contempt and close-mindedness and fearmongering.
So when it comes time to vote I'm looking for problem-solvers, not naysayers and "I told you so"ers. I don't mind if you hold a strong opinion; I hold plenty of them myself. I'm just no longer willing to believe that my opinion or yours is the only one decent people can hold.
What did you see today?
I bought the entire run of The West Wing on DVD recently. Tonight I watched an episode called "Five Votes Down," which was about the West Wing staffers' attempts to get a gun control law passed by Congress.
Commentary
I love The West Wing, so now that I have this set you may be hearing me comment on it a lot!
I'm concerned about gun control. I'm also concerned about health care, the various wars taking place around the globe, and the environment. But after watching the beginning of this episode, which contains the great line "There are two things in the world you never want to let people see how you make 'em - laws and sausages," I've decided to become a one-issue voter. At least for now.
The issue is decency. And I don't mean the "politicians have to adhere to a strict moral code that I can't uphold myself" variety. I mean treating people decently. Being respectful of people you disagree with. Agreeing with people because you believe what they're saying, not because of some potential personal gain in the future. Seeing a person who's been brought low and helping them, even if you warned them in advance that this was where their actions would lead. Not indulging the urge to tear down those who have some advantage over you because you're jealous of their good fortune. Decency.
It may just be that I think our tangible problems are intractable, so I've decided to concentrate on something more ephemeral, but I hope not. I think what's going on here is that I no longer believe we can solve any problems by treating our opponents badly. I'm a pacifist because I believe violence doesn't solve anything, and over time I've learned that violence can take a lot of subtle forms, like contempt and close-mindedness and fearmongering.
So when it comes time to vote I'm looking for problem-solvers, not naysayers and "I told you so"ers. I don't mind if you hold a strong opinion; I hold plenty of them myself. I'm just no longer willing to believe that my opinion or yours is the only one decent people can hold.
What did you see today?
7/16/2009
I saw a description of low self-esteem
Context
I was reading Annie's Mailbox again today. The middle letter was from a woman who described some very disrespectful behavior on her boyfriend's part, who then compounded the offense by telling the writer that all men were like him and she should seek professional help for her insecurities. My husband and I agreed that she should in fact seek professional help, right after dumping his sorry butt.
Commentary
What makes us stay with people who treat us badly? I suppose there's more than one answer, but I always seem to encounter this one when I ask people about it: "This is the best I can do, so I'd better not blow it."
I'm not against humility per se, but when it allows people to continue behaving badly I think it's counter-productive. So I'm going to suggest we channel our low self-esteem in a different direction. Wouldn't the world be a better place if we said, "I don't deserve much, but I'm going to go for the best and then work hard to deserve what I get?"
What did you see today?
I was reading Annie's Mailbox again today. The middle letter was from a woman who described some very disrespectful behavior on her boyfriend's part, who then compounded the offense by telling the writer that all men were like him and she should seek professional help for her insecurities. My husband and I agreed that she should in fact seek professional help, right after dumping his sorry butt.
Commentary
What makes us stay with people who treat us badly? I suppose there's more than one answer, but I always seem to encounter this one when I ask people about it: "This is the best I can do, so I'd better not blow it."
I'm not against humility per se, but when it allows people to continue behaving badly I think it's counter-productive. So I'm going to suggest we channel our low self-esteem in a different direction. Wouldn't the world be a better place if we said, "I don't deserve much, but I'm going to go for the best and then work hard to deserve what I get?"
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?
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