Context
NBC is broadcasting a football game tonight between the New England Patriots and the Buffalo Bills. John Madden is a former football coach and the color commentator for this game. Towards the end of the first half, when the Patriots had built up a 35-7 lead, Madden said something to this effect: "Nobody should complain about the Patriots running up the score. If they don't want the score run up, they should play some defense."
Commentary
35-7 is not an insurmountable lead in an NFL game. In fact, the Bills themselves have come back from a bigger deficit. However, it's a pretty big lead for a team that's well on the way to an undefeated season playing against a team that's just above .500.
Madden is correct in that if the Bills lose, they have no one to blame but themselves. However, I think he's way off base when he says "no one" should complain. Maybe the opposing team shouldn't, but I think the fans should and do. It's not "competitiveness," which is how some people in the media have tried to dress up this particular bit of ugliness that the Patriots have carried out in almost every game they've played this year, it's poor sportsmanship. Which makes it a very short-sighted tactic for the team to carry out.
Consider why people watch sports. Is it to see someone score points? Well, sure, that's fun, but even Harlem Globetrotters fans aren't really interested in the final score. Sports fans like games that tell a story. Sometimes the story is "underdog emerges victorious." Sometimes it's "perseverance will carry you through" (pretty much always the story when Brett Favre plays). Or even, when two particularly bad teams play each other: "somebody's got to win this stinker."
But what kind of story do you get when one team consistently humiliates its opponents (and does not whistle Sweet Georgia Brown while doing it)? "We're better. We're really better. We're really really really better." When you don't have much of a story, you lose all but your most hard-core fans. And remember, we're talking about sports entertainment here. Not to be too cynical, but winning games is not nearly as important as convincing people to watch you win games (and buy your licensed merchandise).
I turned off the Patriots game at half-time. NBC is running another Patriots game next Sunday and I may not bother to tune in at all, which is saying a lot for a rabid football fan like myself. But I feel like I may have to exercise my right to complain about poor sportsmanship with my clicker. After all, I have no control over Buffalo's defense.
What did you hear today?
11/10/2007
I saw a column about safety
Context
Monica Carter Tagore is a columnist for The Shreveport Times. Today is Saturday. In Friday's column she discussed some "how to stay safe" responses to a couple of recent incidents in the area.
Commentary
Even though Monica is my favorite columnist in the Times, I don't read the paper religiously enough to catch everything she writes. In fact, I was only reading the Friday paper today because it's my husband's (and dog's) job to get the morning paper and he wasn't up yet. I'm glad to be able to show you the column on the Internet, because the newspaper version had a somewhat nonsensical title.
The reason I like Ms. Tagore's columns so much is not because I always agree with them, but because they're almost always thought provoking. I didn't agree with her definitions of "common sense" and "smarts" today, nor with her solution to the "kid in peril" situation (I never think fear-mongering is a good way to promote safety), but reading the column did set me to thinking about safety in general.
I'm often troubled by how we approach this issue, especially our inclination to look to "preventing bad things" as the solution to society's ills. Don't get me wrong; some forms of prevention are wonderful (life without smallpox vaccines, anyone? I didn't think so.). But I think there are at least three things we need to consider when assessing the value of preventative medicine for a given situation:
1) Nothing will make you 100% safe.
Law enforcement,, popular culture and urban legend tell us that if someone is really determined to steal from us, they will find a way. Even God is not particularly impressed with our efforts to protect ourselves from loss.
2) Sometimes our instinct to just prevent bad things from happening keeps us from better long-term solutions.
I live in Louisiana. I'm nowhere near New Orleans and Shreveport got only one really rainy day out of Rita, but the "how to prevent hurricane damage" debate has an impact statewide on politics and economics.
In middle school I learned that levees are a pretty dicey form of flood prevention, because a body of water that is not permitted to flood occasionally will continually build up silt on its bed. So the water level keeps getting higher and you have to keep building bigger levees. If you do that all around a city over several decades, you end up with a city that's essentially surrounded by levee-walls. When the water finally does wash over, which it will because nothing makes you 100% safe, it's almost impossible to remove. That, in case you were puzzled about it, is what happened to New Orleans.
3) Sometimes it's better go through a bad thing and come out on the other side than to prevent it.
In the Bible, two people avoid death completely: Enoch and Elijah (Tip 'o the hat to Shygost, my husband's Go teacher for reminding me of this fact.). And Enoch and Elijah are obviously two of God's favorite people. But God Himself, in the form of Jesus, did not avoid death. He died and rose again, all for the purpose of ending the sting of death forever.
As a beneficiary, I think this was by far the better result. Frankly, knowing I have a God like that makes me feel pretty darn safe under any circumstances.
What did you see today?
Monica Carter Tagore is a columnist for The Shreveport Times. Today is Saturday. In Friday's column she discussed some "how to stay safe" responses to a couple of recent incidents in the area.
Commentary
Even though Monica is my favorite columnist in the Times, I don't read the paper religiously enough to catch everything she writes. In fact, I was only reading the Friday paper today because it's my husband's (and dog's) job to get the morning paper and he wasn't up yet. I'm glad to be able to show you the column on the Internet, because the newspaper version had a somewhat nonsensical title.
The reason I like Ms. Tagore's columns so much is not because I always agree with them, but because they're almost always thought provoking. I didn't agree with her definitions of "common sense" and "smarts" today, nor with her solution to the "kid in peril" situation (I never think fear-mongering is a good way to promote safety), but reading the column did set me to thinking about safety in general.
I'm often troubled by how we approach this issue, especially our inclination to look to "preventing bad things" as the solution to society's ills. Don't get me wrong; some forms of prevention are wonderful (life without smallpox vaccines, anyone? I didn't think so.). But I think there are at least three things we need to consider when assessing the value of preventative medicine for a given situation:
1) Nothing will make you 100% safe.
Law enforcement,, popular culture and urban legend tell us that if someone is really determined to steal from us, they will find a way. Even God is not particularly impressed with our efforts to protect ourselves from loss.
2) Sometimes our instinct to just prevent bad things from happening keeps us from better long-term solutions.
I live in Louisiana. I'm nowhere near New Orleans and Shreveport got only one really rainy day out of Rita, but the "how to prevent hurricane damage" debate has an impact statewide on politics and economics.
In middle school I learned that levees are a pretty dicey form of flood prevention, because a body of water that is not permitted to flood occasionally will continually build up silt on its bed. So the water level keeps getting higher and you have to keep building bigger levees. If you do that all around a city over several decades, you end up with a city that's essentially surrounded by levee-walls. When the water finally does wash over, which it will because nothing makes you 100% safe, it's almost impossible to remove. That, in case you were puzzled about it, is what happened to New Orleans.
3) Sometimes it's better go through a bad thing and come out on the other side than to prevent it.
In the Bible, two people avoid death completely: Enoch and Elijah (Tip 'o the hat to Shygost, my husband's Go teacher for reminding me of this fact.). And Enoch and Elijah are obviously two of God's favorite people. But God Himself, in the form of Jesus, did not avoid death. He died and rose again, all for the purpose of ending the sting of death forever.
As a beneficiary, I think this was by far the better result. Frankly, knowing I have a God like that makes me feel pretty darn safe under any circumstances.
What did you see today?
11/08/2007
I saw a discussion of incentives
Context
I belong to an e-mail list called ili-l, which stands for Information Literacy Instruction. A recent post on the list asked for suggestions for promoting a certain type of classes. Several responses came back including, "give the students chocolate."
Commentary
Information Literacy Instruction is the practice of teaching someone to find information and use it effectively and ethically, so it's something all librarians engage in to some extent. However, because of the centrality of research to the mission of universities, it's particularly important to academic librarians, and they dominate the discussion on ili-l.
It's particularly depressing to me, therefore, that academic librarians often feel like their role in the information universe is belittled. Apparently people in their communities (not just students, but faculty and administration as well) really believe that everything is on the Internet. This is wrongheaded enough, but even if all the useful information in the world was on the internet, you would still need information professionals (librarians are one class of those, but there are others) to help you find it and use it.
So some academic librarians are reduced to asking how they can possibly convince students at their institutions to avail themselves of their service, and others are reduced to suggesting that students be bribed with chocolate. I had a hard time getting started on this blog entry because I didn't know how to express the many, many reasons I think this is wrong. I finally decided to stick with just one: handing out candy doesn't convince people of the importance of your enterprise; it trivializes it.
Picture this: Lakeisha Student comes back from her Information Literacy class and her roommate asks what it was like. "Well," she says, "I learned to use controlled vocabulary to create more effective searches in specialized databases and I got some M&Ms(tm)!" It's like somebody saying, "I climbed Mount Everest yesterday, and when I got to the top there was a McDonald's(tm)!" By the way, if you don't know what I mean by "using controlled vocabulary to create more effective searches in specialized databases," you might want to ask a librarian. You'd be amazed at what you can learn.
What did you see today?
I belong to an e-mail list called ili-l, which stands for Information Literacy Instruction. A recent post on the list asked for suggestions for promoting a certain type of classes. Several responses came back including, "give the students chocolate."
Commentary
Information Literacy Instruction is the practice of teaching someone to find information and use it effectively and ethically, so it's something all librarians engage in to some extent. However, because of the centrality of research to the mission of universities, it's particularly important to academic librarians, and they dominate the discussion on ili-l.
It's particularly depressing to me, therefore, that academic librarians often feel like their role in the information universe is belittled. Apparently people in their communities (not just students, but faculty and administration as well) really believe that everything is on the Internet. This is wrongheaded enough, but even if all the useful information in the world was on the internet, you would still need information professionals (librarians are one class of those, but there are others) to help you find it and use it.
So some academic librarians are reduced to asking how they can possibly convince students at their institutions to avail themselves of their service, and others are reduced to suggesting that students be bribed with chocolate. I had a hard time getting started on this blog entry because I didn't know how to express the many, many reasons I think this is wrong. I finally decided to stick with just one: handing out candy doesn't convince people of the importance of your enterprise; it trivializes it.
Picture this: Lakeisha Student comes back from her Information Literacy class and her roommate asks what it was like. "Well," she says, "I learned to use controlled vocabulary to create more effective searches in specialized databases and I got some M&Ms(tm)!" It's like somebody saying, "I climbed Mount Everest yesterday, and when I got to the top there was a McDonald's(tm)!" By the way, if you don't know what I mean by "using controlled vocabulary to create more effective searches in specialized databases," you might want to ask a librarian. You'd be amazed at what you can learn.
What did you see today?
10/28/2007
I saw an article about Katrina Cottages
Context
The Shreveport Times had an article today about how the city council of Bay St. Louis, Mississippi is responding to requests to erect Katrina Cottages. Once again, I couldn't find this on the Times' website, but the same story appeared in many newspapers in Louisiana, so you can read a copy here.
Bay St. Louis is in Hancock County, Mississippi, the area hardest hit by Hurricane Katrina itself. New Orleans, by contrast, was devastated by an engineering failure.
Commentary
I have recently become enamored of poverty-fighting program called Housing First. I believe it is astronomically difficult to make any progress in our current society without having a permanent address. Since I work in the Automation Department at the public library, I can give you two examples of what I mean:
1) These days many of our daily transactions (applying for jobs, performing schoolwork, communicating with friends and family) take place on the computer. The library provides free computer use if you have a library card. The easiest way to get a library card is to prove that you live in the parish, which means having a permanent address.
2) I teach computer classes to the public, which because of #1, can be a key to breaking the cycle of poverty. I don't even require a library card to enroll. I do, however, have a waiting list and I need to be able to get in touch with people when their names comes to the top. Which means I need an address or phone number. I'm absolutely willing to call one of the local homeless shelters to reach them, but given the transitory nature of those arrangements, it's really a crapshoot as to whether I can reach someone that way.
The basic opposition that the city council of Bay St. Louis seems to have to Katrina Cottages is, "these are cheap little houses that Katrina victims are going to live in permanently, and that's going to drive down property values in the neighborhoods where they set up." I'm afraid they lose me at the phrase "drive down property values." I have some sympathy for the idea that if you need to move, you're going to want to get enough money out of your current house to afford an equivalent one in a different place. However, when I balance "people who already have houses and want to make sure they get lots of money when they sell them" against "people who have no houses and need something to get their lives going again," I'm pretty much going to have to side with the latter.
What did you see today?
The Shreveport Times had an article today about how the city council of Bay St. Louis, Mississippi is responding to requests to erect Katrina Cottages. Once again, I couldn't find this on the Times' website, but the same story appeared in many newspapers in Louisiana, so you can read a copy here.
Bay St. Louis is in Hancock County, Mississippi, the area hardest hit by Hurricane Katrina itself. New Orleans, by contrast, was devastated by an engineering failure.
Commentary
I have recently become enamored of poverty-fighting program called Housing First. I believe it is astronomically difficult to make any progress in our current society without having a permanent address. Since I work in the Automation Department at the public library, I can give you two examples of what I mean:
1) These days many of our daily transactions (applying for jobs, performing schoolwork, communicating with friends and family) take place on the computer. The library provides free computer use if you have a library card. The easiest way to get a library card is to prove that you live in the parish, which means having a permanent address.
2) I teach computer classes to the public, which because of #1, can be a key to breaking the cycle of poverty. I don't even require a library card to enroll. I do, however, have a waiting list and I need to be able to get in touch with people when their names comes to the top. Which means I need an address or phone number. I'm absolutely willing to call one of the local homeless shelters to reach them, but given the transitory nature of those arrangements, it's really a crapshoot as to whether I can reach someone that way.
The basic opposition that the city council of Bay St. Louis seems to have to Katrina Cottages is, "these are cheap little houses that Katrina victims are going to live in permanently, and that's going to drive down property values in the neighborhoods where they set up." I'm afraid they lose me at the phrase "drive down property values." I have some sympathy for the idea that if you need to move, you're going to want to get enough money out of your current house to afford an equivalent one in a different place. However, when I balance "people who already have houses and want to make sure they get lots of money when they sell them" against "people who have no houses and need something to get their lives going again," I'm pretty much going to have to side with the latter.
What did you see today?
9/05/2007
I saw a description of Christianity
Context
While web surfing today, I came across this blog entry which ends up positing that Christianity is, in fact, a "doom cult."
Commentary
I like to read analyses of Christianity written by non-Christians; it often helps me see where our message is going astray (e.g., "we're better than you" is not a basic tenet of the faith, regardless of how many people seem to espouse it,). In this case, however, I'm forced to say that Bronze Blog has hit the nail right on the head. We are a doom cult. Well, "cult" might not be the term I would use, but I concede the blogger's point that "cult" and "religion" have the same semantic relationship as "terrorist" and "freedom fighter": it depends on where you're standing.
But we're definitely all about the doom. In our defense, though, every religion is about doom. The basic premise of faith is, "you are there. You oughta be here instead. If you don't come over here, bad things will happen." Certainly we vary as to where "here" is and the appropriate method to get from the one place to the other, but as a general rule religion says things have got to change and it knows the way. It really doesn't have any other purpose.
So why does Bronze Blog think this is an insight worth blogging about? Well, for one thing, I've noticed there are a number of things that anti-Christians think of as "shocking revelations" that most Christians have long since assimilated into their understanding of how complex a relationship with God really is. I think some people really believe that as soon as they tell me that Jesus cursed a fig tree the scales will drop from my eyes and I'll renounce my deluded ways forever. Of course, scales dropping from the eyes is itself a Biblical phenomenon, but I digress.
On the other hand, maybe Bronze Blog is not so far afield. Maybe we have come to the point where Christians do think of apocalyptic nature of our faith as a "shocking revelation." Maybe we've become so comfortable and satisfied with the status quo that we really do believe that "God’s in his heaven: All’s right with the world."
But that's a Robert Browning line, not a biblical one. The Bible says the world is broken and that God will not stand for it forever. And the only consolation we get is that the new world will be better than the old. Hey, we're a doom cult, not a despairing one.
What did you see today?
While web surfing today, I came across this blog entry which ends up positing that Christianity is, in fact, a "doom cult."
Commentary
I like to read analyses of Christianity written by non-Christians; it often helps me see where our message is going astray (e.g., "we're better than you" is not a basic tenet of the faith, regardless of how many people seem to espouse it,). In this case, however, I'm forced to say that Bronze Blog has hit the nail right on the head. We are a doom cult. Well, "cult" might not be the term I would use, but I concede the blogger's point that "cult" and "religion" have the same semantic relationship as "terrorist" and "freedom fighter": it depends on where you're standing.
But we're definitely all about the doom. In our defense, though, every religion is about doom. The basic premise of faith is, "you are there. You oughta be here instead. If you don't come over here, bad things will happen." Certainly we vary as to where "here" is and the appropriate method to get from the one place to the other, but as a general rule religion says things have got to change and it knows the way. It really doesn't have any other purpose.
So why does Bronze Blog think this is an insight worth blogging about? Well, for one thing, I've noticed there are a number of things that anti-Christians think of as "shocking revelations" that most Christians have long since assimilated into their understanding of how complex a relationship with God really is. I think some people really believe that as soon as they tell me that Jesus cursed a fig tree the scales will drop from my eyes and I'll renounce my deluded ways forever. Of course, scales dropping from the eyes is itself a Biblical phenomenon, but I digress.
On the other hand, maybe Bronze Blog is not so far afield. Maybe we have come to the point where Christians do think of apocalyptic nature of our faith as a "shocking revelation." Maybe we've become so comfortable and satisfied with the status quo that we really do believe that "God’s in his heaven: All’s right with the world."
But that's a Robert Browning line, not a biblical one. The Bible says the world is broken and that God will not stand for it forever. And the only consolation we get is that the new world will be better than the old. Hey, we're a doom cult, not a despairing one.
What did you see today?
8/21/2007
I saw people sitting on benches.
Context
I was passing the Caddo Parish Courthouse on the way to the library today. There's a nice picture of it here at the website for Louisiana Film and Television (look for photo #25) that shows the benches out front. Today, as is usually the case, there were people sitting on the benches who didn't look like the people one normally sees inside the courthouse (lawyers, uniformed employees of the parish, etc.). Most of them didn't seem to be doing anything.
Commentary
A note for those of you who have never lived in Louisiana: a "parish" around here is like a "county" everywhere else in the United States. Because of recent tax law changes, when you order stuff on the phone you might have noticed that the operator will ask you what county you live in. I get a perverse kick out of saying, "I don't live in a county; I live in a parish." Sadly, I don't think they usually have a separate field for that in their form.
I remember that when I was a small child I used to frequently tell my mother I was bored. I also remember precisely when I stopped telling her that: it was when I learned to read. Members of my family will testify that subsequently there were many days when I accomplished little else besides devouring books, but at least I always had something to do! And it is still the case that I occupy some of my time with stuff like reading, watching TV, and surfing the Internet. I call these "input activities," because like #5, I'm just gathering input.
I don't spend nearly as much time on input as I did when I was kid, because now I'm expected to produce "output," like by bringing home a paycheck, distributing that money to other people, washing dishes, walking the dog, writing my blog, etc. I find I have a love/hate relationship with these obligations (even the blog-writing!). Sometimes I don't like anyone depending on me, because I really hate to disappoint people (or cats or dogs or birds) by not fulfilling every expectation. On the other hand, being counted on to perform a particular task, even a mundane one, makes me feel like an important part of God's plan. So I'm motivated to produce some output.
This led me to think about why the people sitting by the courthouse might not have anything to do. It's possible they didn't want to be doing anything, but assuming they were, in fact, bored, I wonder how that happened. If I start from the assumption that they are somewhat finanacially disadvantaged, it's possible that they didn't have the resources for a lot of "input activities," although the library has free books and computers right across the street. What worries me more is the idea that people might not have any "output activities" that they're expected to perform. Love/hate relationship aside, I would really hate it if no one depended on me for anything! How would I justify my existence?
Digging deeper, what would lead to someone not being expected to do anything? Well, maybe it starts from a scenario I remember from my own childhood. I was the youngest in my family by quite a bit, so I often felt like there was nothing special for me to do because my siblings had already taken all the available roles (athlete, brain, and yes, even troublemaker). What was left for me? Maybe the people sitting on benches feel like everything's already been done and there's nothing left for them.
Or could it be worse than that? Could it be that they were depended upon at one time and fell short, so everyone in their lives has decided not to expect anything at all? How must that feel, carrying both people's disappointment and their expectation of more disappointment? Helplessness is the feeling that we can't do anything. What about the feeling that no one want us to try? Pointlessness? Irrelevance?
No way! God does not work like that. When everyone else has written us off, God still believes in us. You know how much? He put His mark of protection on the very first murderer. The most revered of His patriarchs had a speech impediment. Peter denied his savior three times in a matter of hours, and he still got to be the founder of the Christian church!
God expects great output from the most downtrodden and disappointing people and you don't want to get in the way of what God expects. So how can we get behind it instead? How can we help people who don't seem to have anything to do find their true calling? Can we start by looking through God's eyes instead of our own?
Who did you see today?
I was passing the Caddo Parish Courthouse on the way to the library today. There's a nice picture of it here at the website for Louisiana Film and Television (look for photo #25) that shows the benches out front. Today, as is usually the case, there were people sitting on the benches who didn't look like the people one normally sees inside the courthouse (lawyers, uniformed employees of the parish, etc.). Most of them didn't seem to be doing anything.
Commentary
A note for those of you who have never lived in Louisiana: a "parish" around here is like a "county" everywhere else in the United States. Because of recent tax law changes, when you order stuff on the phone you might have noticed that the operator will ask you what county you live in. I get a perverse kick out of saying, "I don't live in a county; I live in a parish." Sadly, I don't think they usually have a separate field for that in their form.
I remember that when I was a small child I used to frequently tell my mother I was bored. I also remember precisely when I stopped telling her that: it was when I learned to read. Members of my family will testify that subsequently there were many days when I accomplished little else besides devouring books, but at least I always had something to do! And it is still the case that I occupy some of my time with stuff like reading, watching TV, and surfing the Internet. I call these "input activities," because like #5, I'm just gathering input.
I don't spend nearly as much time on input as I did when I was kid, because now I'm expected to produce "output," like by bringing home a paycheck, distributing that money to other people, washing dishes, walking the dog, writing my blog, etc. I find I have a love/hate relationship with these obligations (even the blog-writing!). Sometimes I don't like anyone depending on me, because I really hate to disappoint people (or cats or dogs or birds) by not fulfilling every expectation. On the other hand, being counted on to perform a particular task, even a mundane one, makes me feel like an important part of God's plan. So I'm motivated to produce some output.
This led me to think about why the people sitting by the courthouse might not have anything to do. It's possible they didn't want to be doing anything, but assuming they were, in fact, bored, I wonder how that happened. If I start from the assumption that they are somewhat finanacially disadvantaged, it's possible that they didn't have the resources for a lot of "input activities," although the library has free books and computers right across the street. What worries me more is the idea that people might not have any "output activities" that they're expected to perform. Love/hate relationship aside, I would really hate it if no one depended on me for anything! How would I justify my existence?
Digging deeper, what would lead to someone not being expected to do anything? Well, maybe it starts from a scenario I remember from my own childhood. I was the youngest in my family by quite a bit, so I often felt like there was nothing special for me to do because my siblings had already taken all the available roles (athlete, brain, and yes, even troublemaker). What was left for me? Maybe the people sitting on benches feel like everything's already been done and there's nothing left for them.
Or could it be worse than that? Could it be that they were depended upon at one time and fell short, so everyone in their lives has decided not to expect anything at all? How must that feel, carrying both people's disappointment and their expectation of more disappointment? Helplessness is the feeling that we can't do anything. What about the feeling that no one want us to try? Pointlessness? Irrelevance?
No way! God does not work like that. When everyone else has written us off, God still believes in us. You know how much? He put His mark of protection on the very first murderer. The most revered of His patriarchs had a speech impediment. Peter denied his savior three times in a matter of hours, and he still got to be the founder of the Christian church!
God expects great output from the most downtrodden and disappointing people and you don't want to get in the way of what God expects. So how can we get behind it instead? How can we help people who don't seem to have anything to do find their true calling? Can we start by looking through God's eyes instead of our own?
Who did you see today?
8/13/2007
I saw single-minded salmon
Context
I'm in Juneau, Alaska for vacation this week. Juneau is on the Gastineau Channel, where scads of salmon come after they've matured to swim up their home streams, spawn and die, so I've had quite a few chances to see the swimming upstream portion of this cycle. There are many obstacles, both manmade and natural, preventing the salmon from getting to their destination. These include pools where the water gets too shallow for the salmon to breathe when the tide goes out.
Commentary
My title up there is a misnomer because salmon, of course, are not single-minded. They have no minds at all. They have a biological imperative that compels them to swim upstream. As a human being though, my tendency is to anthropomorphize and say, "what are those salmon thinking?"
As I was watching the salmon making their way up a particular stream today, I thought I saw a couple saying to themselves, "aha! I've found the easy way to get up this stream and now I'll get there before everyone else and have a really successful spawn!" Actually, they were headed straight for one of those shallows I mentioned above, where several of their dead buddies had already created a feast for seagulls.
So this made me think about single-mindedness. Salmon have no choice in the matter, but we do. Do we get so focused on immediate goals that we fail to see the consequences of our actions? Do we look for the quick answer instead of considering the longer path that might have better rewards? Can we learn something from fish that have no minds at all?
What did you see today?
I'm in Juneau, Alaska for vacation this week. Juneau is on the Gastineau Channel, where scads of salmon come after they've matured to swim up their home streams, spawn and die, so I've had quite a few chances to see the swimming upstream portion of this cycle. There are many obstacles, both manmade and natural, preventing the salmon from getting to their destination. These include pools where the water gets too shallow for the salmon to breathe when the tide goes out.
Commentary
My title up there is a misnomer because salmon, of course, are not single-minded. They have no minds at all. They have a biological imperative that compels them to swim upstream. As a human being though, my tendency is to anthropomorphize and say, "what are those salmon thinking?"
As I was watching the salmon making their way up a particular stream today, I thought I saw a couple saying to themselves, "aha! I've found the easy way to get up this stream and now I'll get there before everyone else and have a really successful spawn!" Actually, they were headed straight for one of those shallows I mentioned above, where several of their dead buddies had already created a feast for seagulls.
So this made me think about single-mindedness. Salmon have no choice in the matter, but we do. Do we get so focused on immediate goals that we fail to see the consequences of our actions? Do we look for the quick answer instead of considering the longer path that might have better rewards? Can we learn something from fish that have no minds at all?
What did you see today?
7/27/2007
I saw some people sitting around talking
Context
I went to give blood today. The person who attended to me struggled with almost all of the tasks associated with drawing blood and the end result was that my pint had to be discarded due to air contamination. Most of the time she was struggling, four or five of her coworkers were sitting around talking.
Commentary
Because of the Quaker testimony on integrity, I try to make the Context part of my blog as straightforward and fact-based as possible. Now that I'm in Commentary, I can tell you I was royally pissed off about the situation this morning.
I am what they call a baby blood donor, so I try to donate regularly. I enjoy the chance to do something that helps out and normally causes me very little trouble. Today's missteps at the blood collection site not only inconvenienced me, they made it impossible for me to donate for another eight weeks, which is likely to inconvenience some babies! So I'm a little perturbed about that.
However, I found the woman's coworkers blasé attitude even more disturbing. It's entirely possible that there was nothing they could have done to improve the situation, but from my viewpoint they looked like their work was of no consequence at all to them.
So that got me thinking about salvation. You don't really want to know how my mind works, because you'll become just as crazy as me, but here's what happened: my husband and I had a discussion about religious universalism yesterday in which I was generally in favor of it (my opinion on this topic changes almost daily). His main objection to universalism is that it fails to give enough importance to God sending his Son to die for us. In response I said, "yeah, but salvation doesn't seem all that important to some people."
That made me wonder why salvation is more important to me than many people I know, so I resolved to spend some time thinking about it today. Here's the progression I then went through: I think salvation is important because I believe in sin, which I know is not true of all everyone. Most of the people I know who don't believe in sin are moral relativists. I think moral relativism starts from a good place, i.e. "there are different moral standards in different contexts." However, it too often seems to end up at "since there's no absolute morality, it doesn't matter what I do!"
Do you see how I got back to the blood center workers? I believe that the moment we start believing that what we do doesn't matter, we start doing wrong. I also believe we get really depressed because it sucks to not matter, but that's an issue for another time.
What did you see today?
I went to give blood today. The person who attended to me struggled with almost all of the tasks associated with drawing blood and the end result was that my pint had to be discarded due to air contamination. Most of the time she was struggling, four or five of her coworkers were sitting around talking.
Commentary
Because of the Quaker testimony on integrity, I try to make the Context part of my blog as straightforward and fact-based as possible. Now that I'm in Commentary, I can tell you I was royally pissed off about the situation this morning.
I am what they call a baby blood donor, so I try to donate regularly. I enjoy the chance to do something that helps out and normally causes me very little trouble. Today's missteps at the blood collection site not only inconvenienced me, they made it impossible for me to donate for another eight weeks, which is likely to inconvenience some babies! So I'm a little perturbed about that.
However, I found the woman's coworkers blasé attitude even more disturbing. It's entirely possible that there was nothing they could have done to improve the situation, but from my viewpoint they looked like their work was of no consequence at all to them.
So that got me thinking about salvation. You don't really want to know how my mind works, because you'll become just as crazy as me, but here's what happened: my husband and I had a discussion about religious universalism yesterday in which I was generally in favor of it (my opinion on this topic changes almost daily). His main objection to universalism is that it fails to give enough importance to God sending his Son to die for us. In response I said, "yeah, but salvation doesn't seem all that important to some people."
That made me wonder why salvation is more important to me than many people I know, so I resolved to spend some time thinking about it today. Here's the progression I then went through: I think salvation is important because I believe in sin, which I know is not true of all everyone. Most of the people I know who don't believe in sin are moral relativists. I think moral relativism starts from a good place, i.e. "there are different moral standards in different contexts." However, it too often seems to end up at "since there's no absolute morality, it doesn't matter what I do!"
Do you see how I got back to the blood center workers? I believe that the moment we start believing that what we do doesn't matter, we start doing wrong. I also believe we get really depressed because it sucks to not matter, but that's an issue for another time.
What did you see today?
7/18/2007
I heard a student compliment my patience
Context
I teach computer classes at the Shreve Memorial Library, both for staff and patrons. Most of my students in the patron classes are seniors. Today a student praised me for being patient even though they learn slowly.
Commentary
I get the "patient" comment a lot. I was taught that it's rude to reject a compliment, so I always say, "thank you," or "you're kind to say so," or whatever. However, what I was thinking today was, "it's not like I have something better to do."
Said in a certain tone of voice, the above sounds churlish, but I mean it sincerely. The library pays me to teach people to use computers, so at that moment I don't have anything else I'm supposed to be doing. I'm not actually being patient; I'm just doing my job.
In my mind, here's what impatience is: it's what happens anytime I believe my current situation (waiting in traffic, going to school, listening to an elderly aunt tell the same story for the umpteenth time) is keeping me from truly important business. Psychologically, it's a bizarre combination of helplessness and arrogance. I feel that I have no control over the circumstances, but if I did I would put my time to much better use. As a person who has a strong sense of time being a precious commodity, I can get very impatient indeed.
My religious beliefs make this a problem, though. A certain amount of helpless feeling reminds me that I'm in God's hands, so that's a good thing. However, the arrogance that asserts I can put my time to better use than God does is foolish indeed. It's forgetting what my real job on this earth is and who's the boss. I don't actually have better things to do than what He places before me.
What did you see today?
I teach computer classes at the Shreve Memorial Library, both for staff and patrons. Most of my students in the patron classes are seniors. Today a student praised me for being patient even though they learn slowly.
Commentary
I get the "patient" comment a lot. I was taught that it's rude to reject a compliment, so I always say, "thank you," or "you're kind to say so," or whatever. However, what I was thinking today was, "it's not like I have something better to do."
Said in a certain tone of voice, the above sounds churlish, but I mean it sincerely. The library pays me to teach people to use computers, so at that moment I don't have anything else I'm supposed to be doing. I'm not actually being patient; I'm just doing my job.
In my mind, here's what impatience is: it's what happens anytime I believe my current situation (waiting in traffic, going to school, listening to an elderly aunt tell the same story for the umpteenth time) is keeping me from truly important business. Psychologically, it's a bizarre combination of helplessness and arrogance. I feel that I have no control over the circumstances, but if I did I would put my time to much better use. As a person who has a strong sense of time being a precious commodity, I can get very impatient indeed.
My religious beliefs make this a problem, though. A certain amount of helpless feeling reminds me that I'm in God's hands, so that's a good thing. However, the arrogance that asserts I can put my time to better use than God does is foolish indeed. It's forgetting what my real job on this earth is and who's the boss. I don't actually have better things to do than what He places before me.
What did you see today?
6/14/2007
I saw a comment about US military aid
Context
I'm currently reading the December 1999 edition of the Dominican Republic and Haiti country studies published by the Library of Congress. You can read the Dominican Republic portion online here and the Haiti portion here. I'm reading them together in a book I checked out from my library.
The Dominican Republic one contains an analysis of how the role of the military changes according to who holds the presidency. For example, Jorge Blanco, the president from 1982 to 1986, forced massive numbers of officers that he perceived to be disloyal to him to retire, which apparently prompted this response: "the United States . . . complained that its military training funds were being wasted as careers were cut short." I laughed out loud when I read that part.
Commentary
I'm concerned that if you read my blog often enough, you'll think all I read are books on international affairs. I actually read quite a few less serious things (for example, I just polished off the softcover Bizarro World today), but I don't necessarily "see" anything in them.
I'm a religious pacifist. I feel a little vindicated any time the military is thwarted. And when nobody is really hurt, I can even laugh about it. On a deeper level though, I'm thinking about what causes the US to send military aid to a country rather than just invading it. When it comes to warfare, the United States sometimes seems to want to keep an arm's length away by using the folowing logic:
1) We don't want to fight them here, so we'll fight them there.
2) We don't particularly want to fight them ourselves, so we'll help them fight each other.
How many things can I find wrong with this strategy? Well, more than two.
1) It's violent. Now matter who's doing the fighting, someone's getting hurt.
2) It's callous. La, la, la, it doesn't take place on our turf or kill our family members, so it doesn't really matter.
3) It's cowardly. For crying out loud, if we really think a cause is worth fighting for, we should put our lives where our mouths are.
Perhaps most damning of all, it's ineffectual. The United States started using this strategy nearly a century ago, at the outbreak of World War I. Ever since then, events have followed roughly this chronology: first, the United States develops certain goals. Then we provide aid to another country, faction, or dictator, believing that entity will pursue our goals. Later, we find that the other entity has actually pursued different goals, sometimes goals that are directly contrary to American interests (anyone remember who armed the Taliban in the first place?). Finally, the United States is forced to either abandon its goals or invade with actual American troops. Because of some inherent national characteristic, we usually choose the "invading" option. Often our troops can't accomplish the original goals either, but we go through a lot of bodies on both sides before we figure that out.
In light of this history, I think we're getting off pretty easy when the only "waste" is Dominican military careers being cut short. So I laugh.
What did you see today?
I'm currently reading the December 1999 edition of the Dominican Republic and Haiti country studies published by the Library of Congress. You can read the Dominican Republic portion online here and the Haiti portion here. I'm reading them together in a book I checked out from my library.
The Dominican Republic one contains an analysis of how the role of the military changes according to who holds the presidency. For example, Jorge Blanco, the president from 1982 to 1986, forced massive numbers of officers that he perceived to be disloyal to him to retire, which apparently prompted this response: "the United States . . . complained that its military training funds were being wasted as careers were cut short." I laughed out loud when I read that part.
Commentary
I'm concerned that if you read my blog often enough, you'll think all I read are books on international affairs. I actually read quite a few less serious things (for example, I just polished off the softcover Bizarro World today), but I don't necessarily "see" anything in them.
I'm a religious pacifist. I feel a little vindicated any time the military is thwarted. And when nobody is really hurt, I can even laugh about it. On a deeper level though, I'm thinking about what causes the US to send military aid to a country rather than just invading it. When it comes to warfare, the United States sometimes seems to want to keep an arm's length away by using the folowing logic:
1) We don't want to fight them here, so we'll fight them there.
2) We don't particularly want to fight them ourselves, so we'll help them fight each other.
How many things can I find wrong with this strategy? Well, more than two.
1) It's violent. Now matter who's doing the fighting, someone's getting hurt.
2) It's callous. La, la, la, it doesn't take place on our turf or kill our family members, so it doesn't really matter.
3) It's cowardly. For crying out loud, if we really think a cause is worth fighting for, we should put our lives where our mouths are.
Perhaps most damning of all, it's ineffectual. The United States started using this strategy nearly a century ago, at the outbreak of World War I. Ever since then, events have followed roughly this chronology: first, the United States develops certain goals. Then we provide aid to another country, faction, or dictator, believing that entity will pursue our goals. Later, we find that the other entity has actually pursued different goals, sometimes goals that are directly contrary to American interests (anyone remember who armed the Taliban in the first place?). Finally, the United States is forced to either abandon its goals or invade with actual American troops. Because of some inherent national characteristic, we usually choose the "invading" option. Often our troops can't accomplish the original goals either, but we go through a lot of bodies on both sides before we figure that out.
In light of this history, I think we're getting off pretty easy when the only "waste" is Dominican military careers being cut short. So I laugh.
What did you see today?
6/09/2007
I heard Friends talk about goals.
Context
At Friends Meeting today we were talking about male and female personality characteristics. In that context, Friend A asked, "so do you have goals for your life?" A couple of us said, "no," but Friend B said, "yes, I have lots!" Then Friend A said to Friend B, "so you're a more goal-oriented person than the rest of us," and I thought to myself, "no, I'm a goal-oriented person; I just don't have goals!"
Commentary
What's going on with my seemingly contradictory view of goals? Well, when someone talks about a person "having goals," I think of long-term visions for the future. I have those; I just lack the motivation and discipline to carry them out. For example, I would like to shed about 30 pounds. However, I have so little intention of either eating significantly less or exercising significantly more that it seems wrong to call that a "goal."
"Goal-oriented," on the other hand, means something different to me. It makes me think more in terms of my actual activities, as opposed to the things I want to do or think I ought to do. Frequently as I go through my day I ask myself, "why are you doing this?" In other words, what goal am I hoping to accomplish?
I find that asking myself this question helps me in a couple of ways. One, it prevents me from walking down fruitless paths. So if I ask myself, "why are you doing this particular activity?", the answer might be, "in order to teach people to use the computer." If I then realize that the activity I'm doing doesn't actually help people to learn, I can just stop doing it! It's easier to do that if I'm focusing on a goal instead of my own ego, a la "wah! I really like that activity!"
On the flip side, being goal-oriented helps me examine not only my activities, but also the goals themselves. I've had this internal conversation more than once:
"Lynn, you're gossiping. Why are you doing that?"
"Well, I really want to impress the people I'm with."
"Really. So your goal is to impress the sort of people who are impressed by gossip. Is that really a worthy goal?"
My mother tried to inculcate this idea in me countless times when I was a teenager. 30 years later, I'm finally getting it. She's currently practicing her "I told you so" speech in heaven.
Mind you, "worthy" doesn't necessarily mean "lofty." Sometimes the conversation goes more like this:
"Why are you watching this episode of Sports Night on DVD that you've seen five times before?"
"I'm tired, I like Aaron Sorkin's writing and Peter Krause is easy on the eyes."
Resting and appreciating the whole of God's creation. Perfectly worthy goals.
What did you see today?
At Friends Meeting today we were talking about male and female personality characteristics. In that context, Friend A asked, "so do you have goals for your life?" A couple of us said, "no," but Friend B said, "yes, I have lots!" Then Friend A said to Friend B, "so you're a more goal-oriented person than the rest of us," and I thought to myself, "no, I'm a goal-oriented person; I just don't have goals!"
Commentary
What's going on with my seemingly contradictory view of goals? Well, when someone talks about a person "having goals," I think of long-term visions for the future. I have those; I just lack the motivation and discipline to carry them out. For example, I would like to shed about 30 pounds. However, I have so little intention of either eating significantly less or exercising significantly more that it seems wrong to call that a "goal."
"Goal-oriented," on the other hand, means something different to me. It makes me think more in terms of my actual activities, as opposed to the things I want to do or think I ought to do. Frequently as I go through my day I ask myself, "why are you doing this?" In other words, what goal am I hoping to accomplish?
I find that asking myself this question helps me in a couple of ways. One, it prevents me from walking down fruitless paths. So if I ask myself, "why are you doing this particular activity?", the answer might be, "in order to teach people to use the computer." If I then realize that the activity I'm doing doesn't actually help people to learn, I can just stop doing it! It's easier to do that if I'm focusing on a goal instead of my own ego, a la "wah! I really like that activity!"
On the flip side, being goal-oriented helps me examine not only my activities, but also the goals themselves. I've had this internal conversation more than once:
"Lynn, you're gossiping. Why are you doing that?"
"Well, I really want to impress the people I'm with."
"Really. So your goal is to impress the sort of people who are impressed by gossip. Is that really a worthy goal?"
My mother tried to inculcate this idea in me countless times when I was a teenager. 30 years later, I'm finally getting it. She's currently practicing her "I told you so" speech in heaven.
Mind you, "worthy" doesn't necessarily mean "lofty." Sometimes the conversation goes more like this:
"Why are you watching this episode of Sports Night on DVD that you've seen five times before?"
"I'm tired, I like Aaron Sorkin's writing and Peter Krause is easy on the eyes."
Resting and appreciating the whole of God's creation. Perfectly worthy goals.
What did you see today?
5/18/2007
I saw the mayor of Shreveport's title
Context
Shreve Memorial Library, where I work, has a Board of Control. Up until today, the Board's webpage hadn't been updated recently, so it still listed the privious mayor, who's white, as anex oficio member. Now our current mayor, who's black, is on there instead. As per normal protocol, the mayor's "The Honorable" title is placed before his name on the page.
Commentary
Quakers have various testimonies that over the years have led to a general disregard for honorifics. Earlham College has a contemporary explanation of this practice about one-third of the way down this page.
Quakers have no creedal statements, but I generally follow most of my church's traditional teachings. Not this one, though. Lately I've felt compeled to start adding formal shows of respect to my interactions with others, rather than taking them away.
This inspiration came largely from a coworker I had shortly after I arrived in Shreveport, who expressed some dismay that a person had called her by her first name without her permission. In our current cultural context, I don't think she felt her obvious social superiority was not being acknowledged. No, the use of her first name made her feel denigrated because, in contrast to the person addressing her, she was a) female and b) over 50.
I've been using computers for 25 years and have gotten pretty good at least at the application side of things. I teach beginners' classes to senior citizens who have never touched a mouse. You'd better believe I call every one Mr. or Ms. as appropriate. I feel I owe it to them to show respect for everything they have achieved, especially since others have often made them feel stupid about not having this particular set of skills.
I also always call President Bush "President Bush." It is important for me to remind myself that even though I disagree with a person about 80% of the time, he is owed a certain amount of respect for having legally won two presidential elections. If you want to disagree with me about the "legally won" part, we can have a lengthy discussion, including a comparison to the "Compromise of 1876," some other time.
So what about Mayor Glover of Shreveport? He is such a confident guy that it's hard to picture anyone dissing him to his face, and impossible to imagine it bothering him. I also don't generally disagree with his policies. He's still going to get the "Mayor Glover" treatment from me every time, though. Shreveport is majority African-American, but this is the first time a black person has been elected mayor. Furthermore, it was quite a close election with some very unlovely black mayor=unsafe streets rhetoric being tossed around. At this point, I feel like as a white person I owe the entire African-American community an honorific.
What did you see today?
Shreve Memorial Library, where I work, has a Board of Control. Up until today, the Board's webpage hadn't been updated recently, so it still listed the privious mayor, who's white, as an
Commentary
Quakers have various testimonies that over the years have led to a general disregard for honorifics. Earlham College has a contemporary explanation of this practice about one-third of the way down this page.
Quakers have no creedal statements, but I generally follow most of my church's traditional teachings. Not this one, though. Lately I've felt compeled to start adding formal shows of respect to my interactions with others, rather than taking them away.
This inspiration came largely from a coworker I had shortly after I arrived in Shreveport, who expressed some dismay that a person had called her by her first name without her permission. In our current cultural context, I don't think she felt her obvious social superiority was not being acknowledged. No, the use of her first name made her feel denigrated because, in contrast to the person addressing her, she was a) female and b) over 50.
I've been using computers for 25 years and have gotten pretty good at least at the application side of things. I teach beginners' classes to senior citizens who have never touched a mouse. You'd better believe I call every one Mr. or Ms. as appropriate. I feel I owe it to them to show respect for everything they have achieved, especially since others have often made them feel stupid about not having this particular set of skills.
I also always call President Bush "President Bush." It is important for me to remind myself that even though I disagree with a person about 80% of the time, he is owed a certain amount of respect for having legally won two presidential elections. If you want to disagree with me about the "legally won" part, we can have a lengthy discussion, including a comparison to the "Compromise of 1876," some other time.
So what about Mayor Glover of Shreveport? He is such a confident guy that it's hard to picture anyone dissing him to his face, and impossible to imagine it bothering him. I also don't generally disagree with his policies. He's still going to get the "Mayor Glover" treatment from me every time, though. Shreveport is majority African-American, but this is the first time a black person has been elected mayor. Furthermore, it was quite a close election with some very unlovely black mayor=unsafe streets rhetoric being tossed around. At this point, I feel like as a white person I owe the entire African-American community an honorific.
What did you see today?
4/29/2007
I saw the hedge around my alma mater.
Context
I’m in Houston today, so I visited the Rice University campus, which is right across the street from the Texas Medical Center. Rice has a wholly contiguous campus that is surrounded by a hedge. The hedge is not physically imposing enough to prevent anyone or anything from coming on campus, but it does clearly delineate the borders.
I graduated from Rice twenty years ago, so of course I see changes whenever I go back and visit. For example, sometime after my departure the Texas Medical Center built a really ugly building just beyond the Rice hedge.
Commentary
I was planning to go to church this morning, but instead I was moved to visit Rice. As I was walking around trying to figure out what drew me there, I saw this much-taller-than-everything-around-it, windowless building and was somewhat afraid that it might be on the campus itself. But no, as I got closer I realized that my beloved hedge was standing guard, keeping me from having to think that some of my alumni giving might have contributed to this monstrosity. As I sat on a bench facing away from both the ugly Med Center building and the hedge I started thinking about the protective aspects of communities.
Rice is an interesting place to go to school. It's an academically challenging but close-knit community. For four years Rice gathers people together and tells them that inside the hedges, it’s safe to be smart and obsessive and all-around different from the norm. In spite of the fact that the hedge is a puny little thing, I still felt shielded there.
It’s not just a shield, though. During those four years (or five or six or whatever) Rice tries to prepare you to go out in the world and accomplish something, not only by making you smarter, but by giving you the emotional tools to answer some of the crap the world throws at you. Four years of being told it’s great to be a nerd makes you likely to continue to believe it even twenty, thirty and forty years later.
I am blessed that I continue to have two communities that work the same way for me even today. My marriage is one. People get and stay married for any of number of reasons, but both my husband and I have come to treasure the refuge aspect of our relationship. We feel like we really can go out and do battle with all the problems of this world because we know someone will love us at the end of the day. Or sometimes in the middle, when we really want to scream! At its best, our marriage is not a hiding place, but a place where we can both rest and be reassured that we are capable of facing the next challenge to come.
My Quaker meeting is another such community. We're a pretty heterogeneous group in terms of religious beliefs and values, but we hold sacred the idea that everyone should be safe at the meeting. Not unchallenged, not coddled, but safe. It's a place where a person may hear a hundred times, "that's different from my experience," but will never hear, "you're wrong to think that way." So we get to examine the Spirit of God within us in an atmosphere that celebrates that Spirit and inspires us to go share it with the rest of the world.
I think everyone would benefit from belonging to these types of communities and I'd like to give you some advice about finding and/or building your own. Unfortunately, I can't. As far as I can tell, I came to both of these communities by the grace of God. So instead I'll pray that God provides you with the gift of a supportive community as well. I'll also invite you to come to our Quaker meeting at 10:00 a.m. Saturday mornings at Charlie Cook's Art Studio, 3500 Texas Blvd., Texarkana, TX. My marriage is not accepting any new members at this time.
What did you see today?
I’m in Houston today, so I visited the Rice University campus, which is right across the street from the Texas Medical Center. Rice has a wholly contiguous campus that is surrounded by a hedge. The hedge is not physically imposing enough to prevent anyone or anything from coming on campus, but it does clearly delineate the borders.
I graduated from Rice twenty years ago, so of course I see changes whenever I go back and visit. For example, sometime after my departure the Texas Medical Center built a really ugly building just beyond the Rice hedge.
Commentary
I was planning to go to church this morning, but instead I was moved to visit Rice. As I was walking around trying to figure out what drew me there, I saw this much-taller-than-everything-around-it, windowless building and was somewhat afraid that it might be on the campus itself. But no, as I got closer I realized that my beloved hedge was standing guard, keeping me from having to think that some of my alumni giving might have contributed to this monstrosity. As I sat on a bench facing away from both the ugly Med Center building and the hedge I started thinking about the protective aspects of communities.
Rice is an interesting place to go to school. It's an academically challenging but close-knit community. For four years Rice gathers people together and tells them that inside the hedges, it’s safe to be smart and obsessive and all-around different from the norm. In spite of the fact that the hedge is a puny little thing, I still felt shielded there.
It’s not just a shield, though. During those four years (or five or six or whatever) Rice tries to prepare you to go out in the world and accomplish something, not only by making you smarter, but by giving you the emotional tools to answer some of the crap the world throws at you. Four years of being told it’s great to be a nerd makes you likely to continue to believe it even twenty, thirty and forty years later.
I am blessed that I continue to have two communities that work the same way for me even today. My marriage is one. People get and stay married for any of number of reasons, but both my husband and I have come to treasure the refuge aspect of our relationship. We feel like we really can go out and do battle with all the problems of this world because we know someone will love us at the end of the day. Or sometimes in the middle, when we really want to scream! At its best, our marriage is not a hiding place, but a place where we can both rest and be reassured that we are capable of facing the next challenge to come.
My Quaker meeting is another such community. We're a pretty heterogeneous group in terms of religious beliefs and values, but we hold sacred the idea that everyone should be safe at the meeting. Not unchallenged, not coddled, but safe. It's a place where a person may hear a hundred times, "that's different from my experience," but will never hear, "you're wrong to think that way." So we get to examine the Spirit of God within us in an atmosphere that celebrates that Spirit and inspires us to go share it with the rest of the world.
I think everyone would benefit from belonging to these types of communities and I'd like to give you some advice about finding and/or building your own. Unfortunately, I can't. As far as I can tell, I came to both of these communities by the grace of God. So instead I'll pray that God provides you with the gift of a supportive community as well. I'll also invite you to come to our Quaker meeting at 10:00 a.m. Saturday mornings at Charlie Cook's Art Studio, 3500 Texas Blvd., Texarkana, TX. My marriage is not accepting any new members at this time.
What did you see today?
4/14/2007
I heard a "just" prayer
Context
A couple of other Friends and I volunteered today at the Randy Sams Shelter for the Homeless in Texarkana, Texas. While we were there, another woman who was volunteering from the Partnership Church of Texarkana asked us to gather and pray with someone. That woman said a prayer out loud that included the word "just" a lot, e.g "I just want to thank you, Father," "I just pray you'll heal our friend," etc.
Commentary
I don't know where the "just" style of prayer comes from, but I first started hearing it about twenty years ago. I wonder if it came from the 1970's "Jesus freaks." The cadence of it sort of sounds like an invitation to mellow out and rap with God. Prayer as casual conversation instead of a big deal.
I find "just" prayers a little jarring. I don't think God has any trouble listening to them, but the very casual sound that may make them attractive to some repels me. I think prayer is a big deal. When someone uses the word "just" a lot, it sounds like they haven't really considered what they're saying to God, they're "just" throwing stuff out there. God loves us and listens to us always, but shouldn't we love Him enough to put a little thought into what we're going to say?
In fact, given that God does love us, another problem emerges. When I say "I just" in everyday conversation, it's usually a fear response. I want to say something, but I think I'm going to get in trouble for it, like "don't get mad at me, but I just don't think four-inch heels are appropriate for horseback riding." It's a phrase with a built-in cringe.
If this is the case, "I just" is a wildly innapropriate way to talk to God. Jesus uses a metaphor of God as Father, but hopefully we all understand that God is better than any earthly father in that He always wants to hear what we have to say When I pray I say, "please," or "if it's Your will" to God in order to be respectful, but I don't grovel. I'm a child of God; I get to ask for stuff with confidence that He will always listen and provide what I need.
What did you see today?
A couple of other Friends and I volunteered today at the Randy Sams Shelter for the Homeless in Texarkana, Texas. While we were there, another woman who was volunteering from the Partnership Church of Texarkana asked us to gather and pray with someone. That woman said a prayer out loud that included the word "just" a lot, e.g "I just want to thank you, Father," "I just pray you'll heal our friend," etc.
Commentary
I don't know where the "just" style of prayer comes from, but I first started hearing it about twenty years ago. I wonder if it came from the 1970's "Jesus freaks." The cadence of it sort of sounds like an invitation to mellow out and rap with God. Prayer as casual conversation instead of a big deal.
I find "just" prayers a little jarring. I don't think God has any trouble listening to them, but the very casual sound that may make them attractive to some repels me. I think prayer is a big deal. When someone uses the word "just" a lot, it sounds like they haven't really considered what they're saying to God, they're "just" throwing stuff out there. God loves us and listens to us always, but shouldn't we love Him enough to put a little thought into what we're going to say?
In fact, given that God does love us, another problem emerges. When I say "I just" in everyday conversation, it's usually a fear response. I want to say something, but I think I'm going to get in trouble for it, like "don't get mad at me, but I just don't think four-inch heels are appropriate for horseback riding." It's a phrase with a built-in cringe.
If this is the case, "I just" is a wildly innapropriate way to talk to God. Jesus uses a metaphor of God as Father, but hopefully we all understand that God is better than any earthly father in that He always wants to hear what we have to say When I pray I say, "please," or "if it's Your will" to God in order to be respectful, but I don't grovel. I'm a child of God; I get to ask for stuff with confidence that He will always listen and provide what I need.
What did you see today?
4/13/2007
I saw a list of best-reviewed sports movies
Context
Rotten Tomatoes is a website that compiles movie reviews and gives each film a score base on the number of negative and positive reviews. Lately they have taken to compiling Best and Worst lists including the recently-published Top Sports Movies.
Commentary
This Rotten Tomates feature appealed to me immediately because I like both sports and movies. However, I was puzzled by the fact that even though these were the best-reviewed sports movies, the critics took great pains to point out on several of them that the plot was not very original. I find this a bizarre standard to use for any kind of storytelling. I believe movies are made and books are written to illustrate universal human truths and frankly, there's a limited number of those to go around. I think it's particularly unfair to judge sports movies this way because most sports movies have the exact same plot: underdog overcomes enormous odds and triumphs. It's why we go see a sports movie, for crying out loud!
I think the critics are looking for originality in the wrong place: what makes a great sports movie is using that same timeworn plot and still creating an unexpected reaction in the viewer. For example, I love the movie Remember the Titans. One of the reasons is because I find the Denzel Washington character is admirable, but not particularly likable. I'm not used to thinking the hero of a piece is kind of a jerk, and this is a pretty brave choice in a film that contains exactly one bankable star. Or take Field of Dreams. Every time I sit down to watch that movie, it looks like it's about baseball, and yet I end up thinking about something besides baseball when it's over. Now any movie that gets my brain moving gets a plus in my book, but Field of Dreams usually makes me consider something different every single time!
My favorite sports movie, beating out Remember the Titans by just a hair, is Major League. OK, silly slapstick comedy, same old sports movie plot, where's the surprise reaction there? Just this: every time I see the formerly-isolated "Wild Thing" come on the field to the adulation of thousands, I cry. Buckets. You want to know what's worse? I've seen this movie five or six times and I still cry every single time. I know what's coming, I can probably quote a great deal of the surrounding dialogue to you, and I still react. That's movie magic!
So the moral of the story is, it's not what you show your moviegoing audience that matters (sorry ILM!), it's how you help them see it differently. Hmm, is there a recurring blog theme in there somewhere?
What did you see today?
Rotten Tomatoes is a website that compiles movie reviews and gives each film a score base on the number of negative and positive reviews. Lately they have taken to compiling Best and Worst lists including the recently-published Top Sports Movies.
Commentary
This Rotten Tomates feature appealed to me immediately because I like both sports and movies. However, I was puzzled by the fact that even though these were the best-reviewed sports movies, the critics took great pains to point out on several of them that the plot was not very original. I find this a bizarre standard to use for any kind of storytelling. I believe movies are made and books are written to illustrate universal human truths and frankly, there's a limited number of those to go around. I think it's particularly unfair to judge sports movies this way because most sports movies have the exact same plot: underdog overcomes enormous odds and triumphs. It's why we go see a sports movie, for crying out loud!
I think the critics are looking for originality in the wrong place: what makes a great sports movie is using that same timeworn plot and still creating an unexpected reaction in the viewer. For example, I love the movie Remember the Titans. One of the reasons is because I find the Denzel Washington character is admirable, but not particularly likable. I'm not used to thinking the hero of a piece is kind of a jerk, and this is a pretty brave choice in a film that contains exactly one bankable star. Or take Field of Dreams. Every time I sit down to watch that movie, it looks like it's about baseball, and yet I end up thinking about something besides baseball when it's over. Now any movie that gets my brain moving gets a plus in my book, but Field of Dreams usually makes me consider something different every single time!
My favorite sports movie, beating out Remember the Titans by just a hair, is Major League. OK, silly slapstick comedy, same old sports movie plot, where's the surprise reaction there? Just this: every time I see the formerly-isolated "Wild Thing" come on the field to the adulation of thousands, I cry. Buckets. You want to know what's worse? I've seen this movie five or six times and I still cry every single time. I know what's coming, I can probably quote a great deal of the surrounding dialogue to you, and I still react. That's movie magic!
So the moral of the story is, it's not what you show your moviegoing audience that matters (sorry ILM!), it's how you help them see it differently. Hmm, is there a recurring blog theme in there somewhere?
What did you see today?
3/24/2007
I saw Jewish people touching the Torah
Context
My husband, Mark, belongs to the Shreveport-Bossier Go club. Ron, another member of the club, became Bar Mitzvah today (I think that's the correct usage, but my Hebrew comprehension is nothing to write home about). As part of the service, there was a parade with the Sefer Torah. Most of the people in the congregation touched the Torah, either with their hand or their prayer book, but Mark and I did not.
Commentary
Please don't think I'm being disrespectful when I say there was a parade with the Sefer Torah. In the order of service, it said, "a parade may follow," and at that point, Ron and his mom, who is the spiritual leader of the B'nai Zion congregation (no pressure there, I'm sure), walked around the sanctuary with the sacred scroll.
So why didn't Mark and I touch it? Short answer, we're not Jewish. The long answer (and it wouldn't really be a blog entry without that, would it?) has to do with my beliefs about why Jewish people do touch the Sefer Torah with such reverence, in most cases forsaking bare skin and using their prayer book instead.
First of all, let's take some ideas off the table. I don't think touching the Torah is an empty ritual. It is my hope that in a society where we strive for freedom of religion that no one would engage in meaningless worship activities. Also, given the rarity of Jewish people in the South, probably not a lot of pressure to perform such a gesture just for show. I also don't think it's a superstitious thing, like "touch the Sefer Torah, be blessed for the rest of the day," or smething like that.
No, what I think I saw today was people seeking physical contact with their heritage. My religious education has always taught me that the Jewish people were set apart from everyone else in this world by God Himself for one purpose: to inherit His mitzvoh (commandments). Touching the Torah is how one acknowledges, "this is who I am and why I was created."
So the end of my long answer is, "it's not who I am and why I was created." Being a Gentile and a Christian, mine is a different path. But to be in the same room with so many people making this simple but powerful statement about their identity and heritage? Well, I didn't touch, but I did cry.
What did you see today?
My husband, Mark, belongs to the Shreveport-Bossier Go club. Ron, another member of the club, became Bar Mitzvah today (I think that's the correct usage, but my Hebrew comprehension is nothing to write home about). As part of the service, there was a parade with the Sefer Torah. Most of the people in the congregation touched the Torah, either with their hand or their prayer book, but Mark and I did not.
Commentary
Please don't think I'm being disrespectful when I say there was a parade with the Sefer Torah. In the order of service, it said, "a parade may follow," and at that point, Ron and his mom, who is the spiritual leader of the B'nai Zion congregation (no pressure there, I'm sure), walked around the sanctuary with the sacred scroll.
So why didn't Mark and I touch it? Short answer, we're not Jewish. The long answer (and it wouldn't really be a blog entry without that, would it?) has to do with my beliefs about why Jewish people do touch the Sefer Torah with such reverence, in most cases forsaking bare skin and using their prayer book instead.
First of all, let's take some ideas off the table. I don't think touching the Torah is an empty ritual. It is my hope that in a society where we strive for freedom of religion that no one would engage in meaningless worship activities. Also, given the rarity of Jewish people in the South, probably not a lot of pressure to perform such a gesture just for show. I also don't think it's a superstitious thing, like "touch the Sefer Torah, be blessed for the rest of the day," or smething like that.
No, what I think I saw today was people seeking physical contact with their heritage. My religious education has always taught me that the Jewish people were set apart from everyone else in this world by God Himself for one purpose: to inherit His mitzvoh (commandments). Touching the Torah is how one acknowledges, "this is who I am and why I was created."
So the end of my long answer is, "it's not who I am and why I was created." Being a Gentile and a Christian, mine is a different path. But to be in the same room with so many people making this simple but powerful statement about their identity and heritage? Well, I didn't touch, but I did cry.
What did you see today?
3/13/2007
I saw a word in a book
Context
Currently, I'm reading The Art of Peace: Nobel Peace Laureates Discuss Human Rights, Conflict and Resolution. In it, Laureate Jody Williams talks about future plans for the International Campaign to Ban Landmines, which include enforcement of the existing treaty. "Impunity," she says, "is a horrific problem, obviously, and we do not want to contribute to impunity."
Commentary
Impunity is a horrific problem. If you have laws in place, but people think it doesn't matter if they obey them or not, then you might as well not have the laws at all. Malcolm Gladwell, in The Tipping Point, presents the case of the murder rate in New York dropping after Mayor Giuliani stepped up enforcement of misdemeanors like vandalism and subway turnstile-hopping. Apparently, when people no longer thought they could commit even small transgressions with impunity, the incidence of the most heinous of crimes went down as well.
In other words, society benefits when people believe what they do matters. This works for good as well as evil. In my last post I said that it's important to do something, but if you don't think anyone will care about what you do, why bother? In fact, this is often the excuse people use for not trying to right the wrongs of this world: "I'm just one person. Nothing I can do will have any impact." But are you really just one person? Do you not have any friends, neighbors or family members that are affected by your actions? Advertising gurus will tell you that word-of-mouth is the most powerful marketing tool in the world. Could the words from your mouth be the last straw that finally ends the practice of using child soldiers? You never know . . .
So here's a two-pronged strategy for you: first, behave as if what you do matters. It does to God, if no one else (see Matthew 6:1-18 for the positive and Numbers 32;1-24 for the negative). Now, try treating other people as if what they do matters as well. That'll give impunity a kick in the pants!
What did you see today?
Currently, I'm reading The Art of Peace: Nobel Peace Laureates Discuss Human Rights, Conflict and Resolution. In it, Laureate Jody Williams talks about future plans for the International Campaign to Ban Landmines, which include enforcement of the existing treaty. "Impunity," she says, "is a horrific problem, obviously, and we do not want to contribute to impunity."
Commentary
Impunity is a horrific problem. If you have laws in place, but people think it doesn't matter if they obey them or not, then you might as well not have the laws at all. Malcolm Gladwell, in The Tipping Point, presents the case of the murder rate in New York dropping after Mayor Giuliani stepped up enforcement of misdemeanors like vandalism and subway turnstile-hopping. Apparently, when people no longer thought they could commit even small transgressions with impunity, the incidence of the most heinous of crimes went down as well.
In other words, society benefits when people believe what they do matters. This works for good as well as evil. In my last post I said that it's important to do something, but if you don't think anyone will care about what you do, why bother? In fact, this is often the excuse people use for not trying to right the wrongs of this world: "I'm just one person. Nothing I can do will have any impact." But are you really just one person? Do you not have any friends, neighbors or family members that are affected by your actions? Advertising gurus will tell you that word-of-mouth is the most powerful marketing tool in the world. Could the words from your mouth be the last straw that finally ends the practice of using child soldiers? You never know . . .
So here's a two-pronged strategy for you: first, behave as if what you do matters. It does to God, if no one else (see Matthew 6:1-18 for the positive and Numbers 32;1-24 for the negative). Now, try treating other people as if what they do matters as well. That'll give impunity a kick in the pants!
What did you see today?
2/22/2007
I saw a quote on the value of watching
Context
I was reading some of the entries in the "Ask ET" forum today. You can find the index for the forum here. "ET" in this context stands for Edward Tufte, a professor emeritus at Yale University whose current passion is analytical design. I find a great deal of Tufte's work fascinating, if only because of his elegant defense of the idea that how you present information is as important as the information itself. However, today I was particularly struck by the wisdom of this entry in the forum, where the author decided to open up a broader philosophical discussion on "Grand Truths about Human Behavior." Here's one quote that Tufte believes fits the "Grand Truths" bill: "Upon expecting fair play in high places: You'll get it if enough folk are watching." ( J. P. Donleavy's variant of Wendell Phillips' "Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty.")
Commentary
Yippee! Another chance to justify the existence of this blog, this time by quoting people who think just watching what other people do is important.
The political theory expressed above looks remarkably cynical: people in power don't base their decisions on ethical principles; they do as much evil as they think they can get away with. I'm not sure that's actually what's being said, though. I believe that most of the time, people think they're doing the right thing. This belief requires a really broad definition of "right" that encompasses convenience, instant gratification and no small amount of self-centeredness, but what I'm saying is that we very rarely pull out our Snidely Whiplash capes and decide to do wrong. So what Donleavy is saying is that a few extra eyes will tilt a governing authority away from a selfish view of what's right toward a more socially beneficial one. I think he may be right in some cases, but I think we have to recognize that oftentimes people are sufficiently set on a bad path that just seeing them doing wrong will not be enough. We have to both care and act.
I spend most of my work day in front of a computer. In this Information Age, that means I learn about a lot of situations that could be defined as "wrong," if only grammatically. In the vast majority of circumstances, I don't care because life's too short to worry about every little thing. I've seen what someone is doing, but I deem his/her action unimportant, so my seeing has little impact on either me or her/him.
Some items bubble up to the level of concern. They make me mad or sad or depressed, but I don't do anything about it for any number of reasons (sometimes the emotions themselves paralyze me). Well, now the person's choice has an effect on me, but if I don't at least take the step of letting him/her know my opinion, I don't think it matters much to that person.
So in order to inspire fair play in high places, or to effect any positive change for that matter, we have to see and care and act. Luckily, "acting" can take many forms. Just in the non-violent realm there's voting, protesting, debating, educating and publicizing (this last one adheres to the "more eyes watching are more likely to provoke good behavior theory."). Or you could try writing in a blog that hardly anyone reads. Hey, it's a start!
What did you see today?
I was reading some of the entries in the "Ask ET" forum today. You can find the index for the forum here. "ET" in this context stands for Edward Tufte, a professor emeritus at Yale University whose current passion is analytical design. I find a great deal of Tufte's work fascinating, if only because of his elegant defense of the idea that how you present information is as important as the information itself. However, today I was particularly struck by the wisdom of this entry in the forum, where the author decided to open up a broader philosophical discussion on "Grand Truths about Human Behavior." Here's one quote that Tufte believes fits the "Grand Truths" bill: "Upon expecting fair play in high places: You'll get it if enough folk are watching." ( J. P. Donleavy's variant of Wendell Phillips' "Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty.")
Commentary
Yippee! Another chance to justify the existence of this blog, this time by quoting people who think just watching what other people do is important.
The political theory expressed above looks remarkably cynical: people in power don't base their decisions on ethical principles; they do as much evil as they think they can get away with. I'm not sure that's actually what's being said, though. I believe that most of the time, people think they're doing the right thing. This belief requires a really broad definition of "right" that encompasses convenience, instant gratification and no small amount of self-centeredness, but what I'm saying is that we very rarely pull out our Snidely Whiplash capes and decide to do wrong. So what Donleavy is saying is that a few extra eyes will tilt a governing authority away from a selfish view of what's right toward a more socially beneficial one. I think he may be right in some cases, but I think we have to recognize that oftentimes people are sufficiently set on a bad path that just seeing them doing wrong will not be enough. We have to both care and act.
I spend most of my work day in front of a computer. In this Information Age, that means I learn about a lot of situations that could be defined as "wrong," if only grammatically. In the vast majority of circumstances, I don't care because life's too short to worry about every little thing. I've seen what someone is doing, but I deem his/her action unimportant, so my seeing has little impact on either me or her/him.
Some items bubble up to the level of concern. They make me mad or sad or depressed, but I don't do anything about it for any number of reasons (sometimes the emotions themselves paralyze me). Well, now the person's choice has an effect on me, but if I don't at least take the step of letting him/her know my opinion, I don't think it matters much to that person.
So in order to inspire fair play in high places, or to effect any positive change for that matter, we have to see and care and act. Luckily, "acting" can take many forms. Just in the non-violent realm there's voting, protesting, debating, educating and publicizing (this last one adheres to the "more eyes watching are more likely to provoke good behavior theory."). Or you could try writing in a blog that hardly anyone reads. Hey, it's a start!
What did you see today?
1/28/2007
I saw an article about financing for college
Context
The Shreveport Times runs "The Color of Money" by Washington Post columnist Michelle Singletary. Today's column was about financing for college and contained excerpts from a conversation with Joseph Hurley, author ofThe Best Way to Save for College: A Complete Guide to 529 Plans and publisher of the savingforcollege.com website.
This was one of the questions Singletary asked: "When applying or need-based financial aid, I know that institutions look at both parental and child resources. Do you know whether a 529 savings account would count against a family? It seems like a disincentive. The families who don't save will ultimately get more (free) need-based aid as they have no savings and are needier."
I read this column in today's paper edition of The Times, but I couldn't find it on the website. I found it at washingtonpost.com, but it requires registration, and since I refuse to do that, I certainly won't recommend it to you.
Commentary
I didn't read the response to Singletary's question, because I was too floored by the question itself. Also, I finished college long ago and have no children. Anyway, here's how I read the question: "should people who can afford to save for college neglect to do so in order to be in a better position to compete with people who are unable to save for college for the limited resource that is government aid?" Shorter version: "what exactly do people need to do to ensure that they 'get theirs' from the government?"
I don't want to single (hee!) Singletary out for my incredulity here. Lots of financial journalists write about similar issues: how can I keep Medicare from taking my home when I go into a nursing home; how do I provide my grandchildren with an inheritance that won't count against their SSDI (full disclosure: members of my family have taken advantage of that one); etc. It has become commonplace for us to think of programs that were originally developed as safety nets as being entitlements. We paid into these funds with our taxes, the reasoning goes, we should be able to take what we want from them. Or sometimes just, "they exist, so we should be able to take what we want from them."
Peter G. Peterson has a lot of interesting things to say about how we came to this state of affairs in his book Running on Empty. In it, he lays blame pretty equally on both liberals and conservatives, but Democrats are singled out for believing that social programs that both exist on a need-based basis are not politically viable because nobody will support government aid they don't personally benefit from. From my perspective, they're wrong. I believe self-sufficiency is its own reward. I remember when I first started working after graduating from college, I used to have so much fun paying my bills. "Woo-hoo! I earned this money, now I can pay for my own air conditioning!" I lived in Houston; air conditioning was far and away my biggest expense. I won't say that I'm still that enthusiastic; twenty years of paying your own way calms one down a bit.
The attitude Singletary is inquiring about (I won't claim she has it herself) brings to mind my favorite parable: the one about the workers being hired to work the field throughout the day (Matthew 20:1-15). When I teach kids about this parable I tell them there's something else going on besides God rewarding whom He chooses. The people who start working in the field early, i.e. the people who don't wait until they're about to die to serve God, get an extra reward: they get to serve God longer! People who can afford to save for college tuition for their children get a reward that's far better than free money: they get to put their children through college! What could be a better fulfillment of the American dream than that?
Please understand, generally-available government services are another story. I think everybody should use their public libraries, schools and roads. And if we had a tax system that supported universal higher education, public nursing homes, and single-payer health care, I would expect everyone to take advantage of those as well, because they would be designed for everyone's use. But need-based financial aid for college should be just that: need-based. If you don't need it, you shouldn't be thinking about how you can take advantage of it anyway.
What did you see today?
The Shreveport Times runs "The Color of Money" by Washington Post columnist Michelle Singletary. Today's column was about financing for college and contained excerpts from a conversation with Joseph Hurley, author of
This was one of the questions Singletary asked: "When applying or need-based financial aid, I know that institutions look at both parental and child resources. Do you know whether a 529 savings account would count against a family? It seems like a disincentive. The families who don't save will ultimately get more (free) need-based aid as they have no savings and are needier."
I read this column in today's paper edition of The Times, but I couldn't find it on the website. I found it at washingtonpost.com, but it requires registration, and since I refuse to do that, I certainly won't recommend it to you.
Commentary
I didn't read the response to Singletary's question, because I was too floored by the question itself. Also, I finished college long ago and have no children. Anyway, here's how I read the question: "should people who can afford to save for college neglect to do so in order to be in a better position to compete with people who are unable to save for college for the limited resource that is government aid?" Shorter version: "what exactly do people need to do to ensure that they 'get theirs' from the government?"
I don't want to single (hee!) Singletary out for my incredulity here. Lots of financial journalists write about similar issues: how can I keep Medicare from taking my home when I go into a nursing home; how do I provide my grandchildren with an inheritance that won't count against their SSDI (full disclosure: members of my family have taken advantage of that one); etc. It has become commonplace for us to think of programs that were originally developed as safety nets as being entitlements. We paid into these funds with our taxes, the reasoning goes, we should be able to take what we want from them. Or sometimes just, "they exist, so we should be able to take what we want from them."
Peter G. Peterson has a lot of interesting things to say about how we came to this state of affairs in his book Running on Empty. In it, he lays blame pretty equally on both liberals and conservatives, but Democrats are singled out for believing that social programs that both exist on a need-based basis are not politically viable because nobody will support government aid they don't personally benefit from. From my perspective, they're wrong. I believe self-sufficiency is its own reward. I remember when I first started working after graduating from college, I used to have so much fun paying my bills. "Woo-hoo! I earned this money, now I can pay for my own air conditioning!" I lived in Houston; air conditioning was far and away my biggest expense. I won't say that I'm still that enthusiastic; twenty years of paying your own way calms one down a bit.
The attitude Singletary is inquiring about (I won't claim she has it herself) brings to mind my favorite parable: the one about the workers being hired to work the field throughout the day (Matthew 20:1-15). When I teach kids about this parable I tell them there's something else going on besides God rewarding whom He chooses. The people who start working in the field early, i.e. the people who don't wait until they're about to die to serve God, get an extra reward: they get to serve God longer! People who can afford to save for college tuition for their children get a reward that's far better than free money: they get to put their children through college! What could be a better fulfillment of the American dream than that?
Please understand, generally-available government services are another story. I think everybody should use their public libraries, schools and roads. And if we had a tax system that supported universal higher education, public nursing homes, and single-payer health care, I would expect everyone to take advantage of those as well, because they would be designed for everyone's use. But need-based financial aid for college should be just that: need-based. If you don't need it, you shouldn't be thinking about how you can take advantage of it anyway.
What did you see today?
1/21/2007
I heard someone talk about competition
Context
I teach high school Sunday School at my husband's church. Frequently I'll have no students, so I'll spend the time talking with other members of the church. Today, as we were discussing the war in Iraq, one of them said something like this: "I don't really know the differences between Sunnis and Shi'ites, but I know the main problem is they don't want to be equal. They each want us to take their side."
Commentary
As is true of most of the people at First Lutheran, the man I was talking to is both older and more conservative than me. However, in this particular case I agreed with him. I told him, "I think you're right, but that's true of everybody. Everybody wants to be ahead of everyone else."
I think that competitiveness is both normal and healthy. I think that makes me unusual among pacifists, because there's a tendency to think that competition leads to strife, and that's what we're trying to avoid. Maybe it's just wishful thinking on my part, but I believe there are ways to be competitive without being violent toward your fellow human being. I'm going to use some examples from the National Football League to illustrate my point, because that's the competition I'm paying the most attention to as we head into the conference championships.
One problem with competitiveness that seems to prey especially on the minds of parents of small children is the possibility that being defeated in a contest will damage one's self-esteeem. I think this happens when we expand our analysis of a competition's outcome beyond reasonable limits.
For example, this is a true statement: "The New England Patriots defeated the San Diego Chargers in a divisional playoff game last week."
This one might be true as well: "Over a span of 60 minutes last week, the New England Patriots were a better football team than the San Diego Chargers."
However, none of these are true:
1) "The New England Patriots are morally superior to the San Diego Chargers."
2) "Each individual member of the New England Patriots is more manly than each individual member of the San Diego Chargers."
or even
3) "The New England Patriots will always beat the San Diego Chargers every time they play."
Each win or loss in a competitive event is related to that event only and should not be treated as giving insight into other aspect of life. No little girl should ever be led to think that if a ball gets past her into a soccer net that it means she'll never have any success at anything. For that matter no 26-year-old quarterback should feel that way either.
OK, that's how we keep competition from being negative, how do we make it positive? Well, the narrow focus can also be beneficial in our search for identity, something psychologists tell us starts in adolescence, but I think stays with us as long as we grow as people. In fact, this is a context where, although winning is great, losing may provide more valuable lessons.
For example, at Indiana University, Antwaan Randle El was a quarterback. However, in the NFL he lost that competition to guys who were, quite frankly, better quarterbacks. Now he's not only one of the best receivers in the NFL, but occasionally scares defenses to death with the prospect that he'll drop back and throw the ball instead of catching it. So let's review:
True statement: Antwaan Randle El is not as good at the quarterback positions as some other guys are.
False statements: "Antwaan Randle El can't play professional football." "Antwaan Randle El can't scare the defense." Or even, "Antwaan Randle El will never throw a pass in the NFL," because he's already thrown several.
Antwaan Randle El's identity, at least at his day job, is defined differently from what he might have expected. But it's still a great identity, and it's all his because very few people pose the same multiple threat he does. Competition can do that for you, whittle down the "what you're good at, what you're not good at, what you can learn more about, what you'd just as soon not bother with" stuff until you're the perfect little sculpture God meant you to be.
So go out there and compete! Celebrate your wins, learn from your losses, and remember that the bigger picture is both big and constantly changing.
What did you see today?
I teach high school Sunday School at my husband's church. Frequently I'll have no students, so I'll spend the time talking with other members of the church. Today, as we were discussing the war in Iraq, one of them said something like this: "I don't really know the differences between Sunnis and Shi'ites, but I know the main problem is they don't want to be equal. They each want us to take their side."
Commentary
As is true of most of the people at First Lutheran, the man I was talking to is both older and more conservative than me. However, in this particular case I agreed with him. I told him, "I think you're right, but that's true of everybody. Everybody wants to be ahead of everyone else."
I think that competitiveness is both normal and healthy. I think that makes me unusual among pacifists, because there's a tendency to think that competition leads to strife, and that's what we're trying to avoid. Maybe it's just wishful thinking on my part, but I believe there are ways to be competitive without being violent toward your fellow human being. I'm going to use some examples from the National Football League to illustrate my point, because that's the competition I'm paying the most attention to as we head into the conference championships.
One problem with competitiveness that seems to prey especially on the minds of parents of small children is the possibility that being defeated in a contest will damage one's self-esteeem. I think this happens when we expand our analysis of a competition's outcome beyond reasonable limits.
For example, this is a true statement: "The New England Patriots defeated the San Diego Chargers in a divisional playoff game last week."
This one might be true as well: "Over a span of 60 minutes last week, the New England Patriots were a better football team than the San Diego Chargers."
However, none of these are true:
1) "The New England Patriots are morally superior to the San Diego Chargers."
2) "Each individual member of the New England Patriots is more manly than each individual member of the San Diego Chargers."
or even
3) "The New England Patriots will always beat the San Diego Chargers every time they play."
Each win or loss in a competitive event is related to that event only and should not be treated as giving insight into other aspect of life. No little girl should ever be led to think that if a ball gets past her into a soccer net that it means she'll never have any success at anything. For that matter no 26-year-old quarterback should feel that way either.
OK, that's how we keep competition from being negative, how do we make it positive? Well, the narrow focus can also be beneficial in our search for identity, something psychologists tell us starts in adolescence, but I think stays with us as long as we grow as people. In fact, this is a context where, although winning is great, losing may provide more valuable lessons.
For example, at Indiana University, Antwaan Randle El was a quarterback. However, in the NFL he lost that competition to guys who were, quite frankly, better quarterbacks. Now he's not only one of the best receivers in the NFL, but occasionally scares defenses to death with the prospect that he'll drop back and throw the ball instead of catching it. So let's review:
True statement: Antwaan Randle El is not as good at the quarterback positions as some other guys are.
False statements: "Antwaan Randle El can't play professional football." "Antwaan Randle El can't scare the defense." Or even, "Antwaan Randle El will never throw a pass in the NFL," because he's already thrown several.
Antwaan Randle El's identity, at least at his day job, is defined differently from what he might have expected. But it's still a great identity, and it's all his because very few people pose the same multiple threat he does. Competition can do that for you, whittle down the "what you're good at, what you're not good at, what you can learn more about, what you'd just as soon not bother with" stuff until you're the perfect little sculpture God meant you to be.
So go out there and compete! Celebrate your wins, learn from your losses, and remember that the bigger picture is both big and constantly changing.
What did you see today?
12/31/2006
I heard someone talk about identity theft
Context
I was at a shoe store today. The cashier talked for a long time both to the customers before me and to me when my turn came about identity theft schemes she had heard about or experienced and ways to protect oneself against them. The couple ahead of me seemed interested in the topic, but I wasn't. I also wasn't all that enthralled with the education about the dangers of Irish Travelers I received from my in-laws last week.
Commentary
If I'm competely honest, I'll have to say my reaction to these conversations went beyond disinterest to irritation. Taking a first pass at the reason why, I would say that they seemed to focus a lot on building up fear, which I know is the enemy of love.
Digging a little deeper, I feel like these types of conversations reflect an inappropriate attitude toward crime. The reasoning seems to go like this, "people are going to do wrong, so the only thing you can do is develop progressively more complex ways to thwart them." I guess I can see the merits of prevention as opposed to recovery, but I don't understand why the onus is on me. Why do I have to change my behavior because of crime? Shouldn't the emphasis be on changing criminal behavior?
Worse yet, I feel this leads to a bizarre type of "blaming the victim" behavior. There's a man I work with who was robbed by a stranger he had given a ride to. When he and others tell the story, my co-worker's actions are often presented as stupid. No, my co-worker was kind. Thinking that you can repay a kindness with evil and God won't notice is stupid.
Don't get me wrong. I lock both my house and my car and feel more secure now that I live with a big dog. But I also know this: every moment we spend protecting ourselves from bad things another person might do is lost for any other purpose. Are we allowing our fear of identity theft steal time from something much more valuable?
What did you see today?
I was at a shoe store today. The cashier talked for a long time both to the customers before me and to me when my turn came about identity theft schemes she had heard about or experienced and ways to protect oneself against them. The couple ahead of me seemed interested in the topic, but I wasn't. I also wasn't all that enthralled with the education about the dangers of Irish Travelers I received from my in-laws last week.
Commentary
If I'm competely honest, I'll have to say my reaction to these conversations went beyond disinterest to irritation. Taking a first pass at the reason why, I would say that they seemed to focus a lot on building up fear, which I know is the enemy of love.
Digging a little deeper, I feel like these types of conversations reflect an inappropriate attitude toward crime. The reasoning seems to go like this, "people are going to do wrong, so the only thing you can do is develop progressively more complex ways to thwart them." I guess I can see the merits of prevention as opposed to recovery, but I don't understand why the onus is on me. Why do I have to change my behavior because of crime? Shouldn't the emphasis be on changing criminal behavior?
Worse yet, I feel this leads to a bizarre type of "blaming the victim" behavior. There's a man I work with who was robbed by a stranger he had given a ride to. When he and others tell the story, my co-worker's actions are often presented as stupid. No, my co-worker was kind. Thinking that you can repay a kindness with evil and God won't notice is stupid.
Don't get me wrong. I lock both my house and my car and feel more secure now that I live with a big dog. But I also know this: every moment we spend protecting ourselves from bad things another person might do is lost for any other purpose. Are we allowing our fear of identity theft steal time from something much more valuable?
What did you see today?
12/04/2006
I saw someone staring into space
Context
I love to walk, both in order to get somewhere and just to wander around. Because I live in a small city in the South, I am accustomed to verbally greeting strangers that I meet in the street. Today I passed two African-American people at once and considered saying, "hey," but one of them was looking down and one was staring into space, so I just smiled and walked on.
Commentary
I didn't greet the two people because they seemed to be preoccupied, and I know I hate being interrupted when I'm doing something, even if the "something" is just engaging in deep thought. In other words, I'm obeying the Golden Rule as stated in Matthew 7:12, "do to others as you would have them do to you." And yet, I find myself disappointed in my actions.
First off, I'm struck by the fact that people have different values and personalities, so what I would have someone do might not be what another person wants. What if the person I passed was staring into space because she was too shy or scared to catch the eye of a stranger? I have boldness to spare, so if she wanted I could have picked up the slack by saying hello.
What worries me more is that sometimes what I would have people do is pathological. For example, to not acknowledge the existence of a fellow human being because I'm deep in thought about what to wear tomorrow indicates misplaced priorities. If someone indulges me in this, that person is enabling my sin, right?
I think there's a more applicable phrasing of the Golden Rule in Matthew, this one in chapter 22, verse 39: "you shall love your neighbor as yourself." This seems to be a more global statement. "Do unto others" has the feel of "examine the specific situation, do what you would want done to you, move on." "Love your neighbor" acknowledges what every parent (including our Heavenly Father) knows: sometimes what a person would have you do in a specfic situation can be short-sighted and harmful.
I think love sometimes has to look beyond the immediate situation and try to see what would truly be best for everyone involved. When two strangers give each other a friendly greeting, especially when they belong to different races, that can build community. I'm not saying that's necessarily the most important thing in the world, but I'm saying it's worth taking a little extra effort, a little extra love to explore. Heck, maybe I could have even started a conversation and found out what the lady I met was thinking so deeply about.
What did you see today?
I love to walk, both in order to get somewhere and just to wander around. Because I live in a small city in the South, I am accustomed to verbally greeting strangers that I meet in the street. Today I passed two African-American people at once and considered saying, "hey," but one of them was looking down and one was staring into space, so I just smiled and walked on.
Commentary
I didn't greet the two people because they seemed to be preoccupied, and I know I hate being interrupted when I'm doing something, even if the "something" is just engaging in deep thought. In other words, I'm obeying the Golden Rule as stated in Matthew 7:12, "do to others as you would have them do to you." And yet, I find myself disappointed in my actions.
First off, I'm struck by the fact that people have different values and personalities, so what I would have someone do might not be what another person wants. What if the person I passed was staring into space because she was too shy or scared to catch the eye of a stranger? I have boldness to spare, so if she wanted I could have picked up the slack by saying hello.
What worries me more is that sometimes what I would have people do is pathological. For example, to not acknowledge the existence of a fellow human being because I'm deep in thought about what to wear tomorrow indicates misplaced priorities. If someone indulges me in this, that person is enabling my sin, right?
I think there's a more applicable phrasing of the Golden Rule in Matthew, this one in chapter 22, verse 39: "you shall love your neighbor as yourself." This seems to be a more global statement. "Do unto others" has the feel of "examine the specific situation, do what you would want done to you, move on." "Love your neighbor" acknowledges what every parent (including our Heavenly Father) knows: sometimes what a person would have you do in a specfic situation can be short-sighted and harmful.
I think love sometimes has to look beyond the immediate situation and try to see what would truly be best for everyone involved. When two strangers give each other a friendly greeting, especially when they belong to different races, that can build community. I'm not saying that's necessarily the most important thing in the world, but I'm saying it's worth taking a little extra effort, a little extra love to explore. Heck, maybe I could have even started a conversation and found out what the lady I met was thinking so deeply about.
What did you see today?
11/01/2006
I saw an article about someone's anger
Context
I came upon this column at the Fox News website today. I believe I’ve heard of Mike Straka, but I hadn’t seen this Grrr! column before, where it appears he regularly writes about things that annoy him. In this case, people who urinate in inappropriate places.
Commentary
Public urination doesn’t anger me; it saddens me. I feel sorry for people who are that poorly socialized. I find this happens frequently; situations that really piss (hee!) some people off just look pitiable to me.
I was kind of hoping my response could be considered the morally superior one. Anger can be quite sinful after all, especially if it’s the self-righteous kind of anger that says, “I would never pee in a public place; why can’t everybody be more like me?” On the other hand, zeal for true righteousness gets its own beatitude, so there’s a blessing available for the person who fights against the lack of respect for rules and property and the rights of other people.
What about my feelings of sadness, then? Well, that’s compassion, so it’s a great moral choice, right? Maybe, but if I’m honest with myself, I know that sometimes I’m being not so much compassionate as resigned, believing that nothing can be done to remedy a bad situation and that’s a shame. Or worse, I jump right to, “I don’t need to try to do anything to fix the problem I see; I’m busy being sad about it.” Depression can have just as many self-indulgent elements as anger.
So self-centeredness becomes the problem with both emotions, and in fact, all emotions. Any time joy, sorrow, anger, sexual desire, or whatever is focused on the self, it becomes a vicious, ultimately pointless thing. When an emotion proceeds from one’s love for God, it’s transformed into a powerful weapon for good. It's not so much what you feel as who you feel for.
What did you see today?
I came upon this column at the Fox News website today. I believe I’ve heard of Mike Straka, but I hadn’t seen this Grrr! column before, where it appears he regularly writes about things that annoy him. In this case, people who urinate in inappropriate places.
Commentary
Public urination doesn’t anger me; it saddens me. I feel sorry for people who are that poorly socialized. I find this happens frequently; situations that really piss (hee!) some people off just look pitiable to me.
I was kind of hoping my response could be considered the morally superior one. Anger can be quite sinful after all, especially if it’s the self-righteous kind of anger that says, “I would never pee in a public place; why can’t everybody be more like me?” On the other hand, zeal for true righteousness gets its own beatitude, so there’s a blessing available for the person who fights against the lack of respect for rules and property and the rights of other people.
What about my feelings of sadness, then? Well, that’s compassion, so it’s a great moral choice, right? Maybe, but if I’m honest with myself, I know that sometimes I’m being not so much compassionate as resigned, believing that nothing can be done to remedy a bad situation and that’s a shame. Or worse, I jump right to, “I don’t need to try to do anything to fix the problem I see; I’m busy being sad about it.” Depression can have just as many self-indulgent elements as anger.
So self-centeredness becomes the problem with both emotions, and in fact, all emotions. Any time joy, sorrow, anger, sexual desire, or whatever is focused on the self, it becomes a vicious, ultimately pointless thing. When an emotion proceeds from one’s love for God, it’s transformed into a powerful weapon for good. It's not so much what you feel as who you feel for.
What did you see today?
10/07/2006
I saw a description of Bin Laden's fatwa
Context
I’m reading the 9/11 Commission Report. There's a link here, but I'm reading the hard copy Official Government Edition. Chapter 2 starts with a description of the “fatwa” (more about those quotation marks later) issued by Osama Bin Laden and four other men in 1998. In essence it said, “it is the duty of every Muslim to kill every American they can whenever they can.”
Commentary
First, the quotation marks. The 9/11 Commission Report states: “A fatwa is normally an interpretation of Islamic law by a respected Islamic authority.” So the Islamic equivalent of a Talmudic writing or a papal bull, I guess. Even his most ardent supporters would probably put Bin Laden in more of the “soldier” than “scholar” category, so the quotation marks represent my skepticism that he has much authority to offer interpretations of Islamic law. In fact, I imagine that the average Muslim, if she/he heard about this obligation to kill Americans before 9/11, probably said to her/himself, “yeah, ok, whatever you say, oh crazy person.”
There are people who fault Muslims for this, saying they need to be quicker to distance themselves from extremists. Why? I don’t feel a strong obligation to distance myself from the Phelps family. I just assume people understand the difference between being a traditional Christian and being, well, a member of the Phelps family.
I worry a little, though. Perhaps those of us with moderate viewpoints (now there’s a word I never thought I’d use to describe myself!) spend a little too much time gaping in astonishment at the Bin Ladens and Fred Phelps’ of this world, and not enough time saying, “there really is another viewpoint.” People who never tire of speaking out are a perfect match for the news media, who need a constant flow of stuff to report. So if one measures by sheer volume of coverage, inflammatory opinions might end up looking like the voice of the mainstream.
So for the record, God doesn’t hate anybody, Osama Bin Laden has no authority to interpret Islamic law, and my husband is empowered to make medical decisions for me if I’m unable to do so. Don’t say I didn’t tell you.
What did you see today?
I’m reading the 9/11 Commission Report. There's a link here, but I'm reading the hard copy Official Government Edition. Chapter 2 starts with a description of the “fatwa” (more about those quotation marks later) issued by Osama Bin Laden and four other men in 1998. In essence it said, “it is the duty of every Muslim to kill every American they can whenever they can.”
Commentary
First, the quotation marks. The 9/11 Commission Report states: “A fatwa is normally an interpretation of Islamic law by a respected Islamic authority.” So the Islamic equivalent of a Talmudic writing or a papal bull, I guess. Even his most ardent supporters would probably put Bin Laden in more of the “soldier” than “scholar” category, so the quotation marks represent my skepticism that he has much authority to offer interpretations of Islamic law. In fact, I imagine that the average Muslim, if she/he heard about this obligation to kill Americans before 9/11, probably said to her/himself, “yeah, ok, whatever you say, oh crazy person.”
There are people who fault Muslims for this, saying they need to be quicker to distance themselves from extremists. Why? I don’t feel a strong obligation to distance myself from the Phelps family. I just assume people understand the difference between being a traditional Christian and being, well, a member of the Phelps family.
I worry a little, though. Perhaps those of us with moderate viewpoints (now there’s a word I never thought I’d use to describe myself!) spend a little too much time gaping in astonishment at the Bin Ladens and Fred Phelps’ of this world, and not enough time saying, “there really is another viewpoint.” People who never tire of speaking out are a perfect match for the news media, who need a constant flow of stuff to report. So if one measures by sheer volume of coverage, inflammatory opinions might end up looking like the voice of the mainstream.
So for the record, God doesn’t hate anybody, Osama Bin Laden has no authority to interpret Islamic law, and my husband is empowered to make medical decisions for me if I’m unable to do so. Don’t say I didn’t tell you.
What did you see today?
10/06/2006
I saw some impressive church buildings
Context
I live in a lower-middle-class neighborhood that is right next to an upper-middle-class neighborhood. Today while I was waiting for the bus, I noticed people doing work on a very nice, very large Christian (Disciples of Christ) church building. I then looked at the spire of a very nice, very large Episcopalian church building that is less than two blocks away.
Commentary
I think the most impressive thing about the two church buildings I was looking at today was not their beauty or their size, but the sense of permanence about them. I drive through the poorer parts of Shreveport on a regular basis, and church buildings in these areas tend to be numerous, tiny, and impermanent looking. In reality, they often are “here today, gone tomorrow” kinds of operations.
It’s possible this means people in these less prosperous neighborhoods do not commit to their church, but just skip around looking for the most palatable message. Jesus illustrates this kind of behavior when He talks about the seeds that fall on rocky ground and have no root. The big impressive churches close to my home look like they have some roots, some endurance.
But in the very next verse in Matthew, Jesus talks about seeds sown among thorns as representing those that get choked by the cares of this world. Sometimes when you’re in a nice, permanent church building, other things get in the way of your passion for the Gospel, like making sure your building stays nice and your status quo stays permanent. Perhaps people in the poorer areas are smart enough to tear down and start over at the first sign of these thorns that will choke off their faith.
Or maybe I’m reading too much into the differences in buildings. They’re just edifices, after all. But I wonder if the inhabitants of each type might have something to teach each other.
What did you see today?
I live in a lower-middle-class neighborhood that is right next to an upper-middle-class neighborhood. Today while I was waiting for the bus, I noticed people doing work on a very nice, very large Christian (Disciples of Christ) church building. I then looked at the spire of a very nice, very large Episcopalian church building that is less than two blocks away.
Commentary
I think the most impressive thing about the two church buildings I was looking at today was not their beauty or their size, but the sense of permanence about them. I drive through the poorer parts of Shreveport on a regular basis, and church buildings in these areas tend to be numerous, tiny, and impermanent looking. In reality, they often are “here today, gone tomorrow” kinds of operations.
It’s possible this means people in these less prosperous neighborhoods do not commit to their church, but just skip around looking for the most palatable message. Jesus illustrates this kind of behavior when He talks about the seeds that fall on rocky ground and have no root. The big impressive churches close to my home look like they have some roots, some endurance.
But in the very next verse in Matthew, Jesus talks about seeds sown among thorns as representing those that get choked by the cares of this world. Sometimes when you’re in a nice, permanent church building, other things get in the way of your passion for the Gospel, like making sure your building stays nice and your status quo stays permanent. Perhaps people in the poorer areas are smart enough to tear down and start over at the first sign of these thorns that will choke off their faith.
Or maybe I’m reading too much into the differences in buildings. They’re just edifices, after all. But I wonder if the inhabitants of each type might have something to teach each other.
What did you see today?
10/03/2006
I saw an e-mail about death
Context
I belong to an e-mail list called Fiction-L, which covers reader’s advisory issues. A discussion of “books so good you read them over and over again” led to an exchange between a colleague and me regarding Charlotte’s Web. Some snippets follow:
Colleague - People who don't cry at the end of Charlotte's Web worry me. They are the same people who don't cry when Bambi's mother dies.
Me - Them's fighting words, [name omitted]! Charlotte dies in the natural course of nature, which is a little sad, but in more of a "sighing" than "crying" way. Bambi's mother is brutally murdered by stupid human beings! I not only cry; I tend to leave the room so I can pound my fists on something!
Colleague - They're both tragedies--since when is the loss of a friend to natural death any less painful than one to murder? In either case they are gone, and they aren't coming back. Death is no less final for being natural.
Commentary
I was surprised that my reaction to death was so different from my colleague’s, so I’m trying to figure out where the difference comes from. Is it because I don’t believe death is “final” for anyone? Yes, I’m not only a Christian, with the Pauline view of our demise, but a person who thinks that All Dogs go to Heaven. It scarcely seems worth calling it “heaven” if there won’t be critters there.
That can’t be the only reason for the way I feel though, because then I would have the mirror image of my colleague’s opinion: murder is an equal cause for celebration as succumbing to natural causes.
So why are the circumstances surrounding death important? I think it’s because I also hold the “other” Christian viewpoint on mortality: that it infects all of creation because of human sin. We were made the stewards of Earth, so everything on it suffers the same fate we do. So let’s recap: it’s our fault that animals die in the first place, and in Bambi’s mother’s case, we hasten the process along by setting fire to her habitat.
I think the last piece of the puzzle is this: I’m much more likely to cry about things that make me angry than those that make me sad.
What did you see today?
I belong to an e-mail list called Fiction-L, which covers reader’s advisory issues. A discussion of “books so good you read them over and over again” led to an exchange between a colleague and me regarding Charlotte’s Web. Some snippets follow:
Colleague - People who don't cry at the end of Charlotte's Web worry me. They are the same people who don't cry when Bambi's mother dies.
Me - Them's fighting words, [name omitted]! Charlotte dies in the natural course of nature, which is a little sad, but in more of a "sighing" than "crying" way. Bambi's mother is brutally murdered by stupid human beings! I not only cry; I tend to leave the room so I can pound my fists on something!
Colleague - They're both tragedies--since when is the loss of a friend to natural death any less painful than one to murder? In either case they are gone, and they aren't coming back. Death is no less final for being natural.
Commentary
I was surprised that my reaction to death was so different from my colleague’s, so I’m trying to figure out where the difference comes from. Is it because I don’t believe death is “final” for anyone? Yes, I’m not only a Christian, with the Pauline view of our demise, but a person who thinks that All Dogs go to Heaven. It scarcely seems worth calling it “heaven” if there won’t be critters there.
That can’t be the only reason for the way I feel though, because then I would have the mirror image of my colleague’s opinion: murder is an equal cause for celebration as succumbing to natural causes.
So why are the circumstances surrounding death important? I think it’s because I also hold the “other” Christian viewpoint on mortality: that it infects all of creation because of human sin. We were made the stewards of Earth, so everything on it suffers the same fate we do. So let’s recap: it’s our fault that animals die in the first place, and in Bambi’s mother’s case, we hasten the process along by setting fire to her habitat.
I think the last piece of the puzzle is this: I’m much more likely to cry about things that make me angry than those that make me sad.
What did you see today?
9/26/2006
I saw an article about Nancy Grace
Context
The Shreveport Times had an article on Nancy Grace in the Living section this morning. I had never heard of this woman before, possibly because the only television news I watch is the Daily Show and that not regularly. The gist of the article is that the suicide of her prime suspect has not lessened Ms. Grace’s zeal for pursuing the case of a missing child.
Commentary
The article in question does not appear on the Times website, so if you want to read it for yourself, you'll have to do it the old-fashioned way.
I had a number of initial reactions to this article. The one that stuck with me was this: why is a prosecutor working for CNN instead of the courts? I think the answer emerges in Ms. Grace’s statement quoted in the fourth paragraph: “I remain dedicated to the ongoing fight for crime victims everywhere.” It’s possible that she got frustrated when she found out that in the United States, prosecutors are not supposed to be advocates for crime victims. That’s because in this country, we treat crime as an offense against society, not an individual person.
Think about it. A criminal trial is titled The State of Whatever vs. Whomever. It is often the case that district attorneys disregard the opinion of the crime victim when deciding whether or not to prosecute a case. Victims have no intrinsic right to be heard in a criminal trial, but if either side thinks their testimony will be useful, they can be compelled to appear against their will.
The paragraph above may lead you to think I’m opposed to the American judicial system. Quite the contrary, I’m its biggest fan, because I subscribe to the premise above: crime is an offense against society. Obviously rape damages a woman or man, but it also damages the threads that hold us together.
Nancy Grace and I are probably in complete agreement on the previous point, but the American judicial system says that persecuting people without due process also damages society. That’s why we have an adversarial criminal justice system. The prosecutor’s job is to speak for the “we have to punish criminals” societal interest and the defense attorney presents the interest in considering exonerating evidence and mitigating circumstances. Both of them are, therefore, “officers of the court.” Society, as represented by a jury, ideally decides which interest is more compelling in this particular case.
Nancy Grace circumvents this system. She’s an advocate for victims, so her job is to slam the people she considers to be perpetrators. OK, it’s only television, not an actual judicial proceeding, but am I the only one who thinks that suicide indicates there might be more than one victim here? Does our society have any interest we might possibly want to consider before unleashing a Nancy Grace on the world and calling it “entertainment?”
What did you see today?
The Shreveport Times had an article on Nancy Grace in the Living section this morning. I had never heard of this woman before, possibly because the only television news I watch is the Daily Show and that not regularly. The gist of the article is that the suicide of her prime suspect has not lessened Ms. Grace’s zeal for pursuing the case of a missing child.
Commentary
The article in question does not appear on the Times website, so if you want to read it for yourself, you'll have to do it the old-fashioned way.
I had a number of initial reactions to this article. The one that stuck with me was this: why is a prosecutor working for CNN instead of the courts? I think the answer emerges in Ms. Grace’s statement quoted in the fourth paragraph: “I remain dedicated to the ongoing fight for crime victims everywhere.” It’s possible that she got frustrated when she found out that in the United States, prosecutors are not supposed to be advocates for crime victims. That’s because in this country, we treat crime as an offense against society, not an individual person.
Think about it. A criminal trial is titled The State of Whatever vs. Whomever. It is often the case that district attorneys disregard the opinion of the crime victim when deciding whether or not to prosecute a case. Victims have no intrinsic right to be heard in a criminal trial, but if either side thinks their testimony will be useful, they can be compelled to appear against their will.
The paragraph above may lead you to think I’m opposed to the American judicial system. Quite the contrary, I’m its biggest fan, because I subscribe to the premise above: crime is an offense against society. Obviously rape damages a woman or man, but it also damages the threads that hold us together.
Nancy Grace and I are probably in complete agreement on the previous point, but the American judicial system says that persecuting people without due process also damages society. That’s why we have an adversarial criminal justice system. The prosecutor’s job is to speak for the “we have to punish criminals” societal interest and the defense attorney presents the interest in considering exonerating evidence and mitigating circumstances. Both of them are, therefore, “officers of the court.” Society, as represented by a jury, ideally decides which interest is more compelling in this particular case.
Nancy Grace circumvents this system. She’s an advocate for victims, so her job is to slam the people she considers to be perpetrators. OK, it’s only television, not an actual judicial proceeding, but am I the only one who thinks that suicide indicates there might be more than one victim here? Does our society have any interest we might possibly want to consider before unleashing a Nancy Grace on the world and calling it “entertainment?”
What did you see today?
9/20/2006
I saw a mistake I had made
Context
I was going to rant today about a page on the American Library Association website. When I went to pull a quote from the page, I realized that I had read it wrong and it was not rantworthy.
Commentary
Nope, I’m not going to tell you what the page was or what mistake I made, because it’s embarrassing. What I am going to say is that this blog has taught me something about my reactions. I’ll be going along, putting together a self-righteous crusade against something I’ve seen or heard, only to realize that what I thought I saw wasn’t really there.
Publishing my thoughts, whether anyone reads them or not, forces me to examine their underpinnings and take more careful steps instead of jumping to conclusions. I wonder what would happen if I treated all of my responses to stimuli as if they might be on public display?
What did you really see today?
I was going to rant today about a page on the American Library Association website. When I went to pull a quote from the page, I realized that I had read it wrong and it was not rantworthy.
Commentary
Nope, I’m not going to tell you what the page was or what mistake I made, because it’s embarrassing. What I am going to say is that this blog has taught me something about my reactions. I’ll be going along, putting together a self-righteous crusade against something I’ve seen or heard, only to realize that what I thought I saw wasn’t really there.
Publishing my thoughts, whether anyone reads them or not, forces me to examine their underpinnings and take more careful steps instead of jumping to conclusions. I wonder what would happen if I treated all of my responses to stimuli as if they might be on public display?
What did you really see today?
9/13/2006
I saw a flyer I was not interested in
Context
Towards the end of my lunch hour today, a man approached me and tried to hand me a flyer. I asked what it was, and he said it would help me figure out if I was going to heaven after I die. I said, "interesting," and walked on without taking the flyer.
Commentary
One of my favorite characters from the Sylvia comic strip, is The Woman who Does Everything More Beautifully than You. I think she's supposed to be a send-up of Martha Stewart, but she actually reminds me a lot of myself. Those of you who have seen my home or my artwork are excused to go explode with laughter.
Now then, what I mean is that when I set out to do things, I'm very detail oriented. I used to work at the Oakland SPCA, which has now been incorporated into the East Bay SPCA. Cleaning kennels used to take me hours longer than everyone else, because I did every step exactly the way I was told, covered every surface with disinfectant, dried thoroughly, and never, ever took shortcuts. I really believe that there’s no point in doing something if you’re not going to do it right. I don’t think I have an obsessive-compulsive disorder, because I don’t feel compelled to do things this way; I just like it.
It can lead to problems, though. Have you heard of the “tyranny of the urgent?” I’m more dominated by the “tyranny of the plan,” as in, I am taking these steps now; don’t try to interrupt me with something else. Which brings me to the gentleman with the flyer. I was on my lunch hour. I had no urgent duties keeping me from engaging with him and building a relationship. But here’s what went through my head: “I’ve bought this sympathy card; I need to write a message in it and look up my co-workers address so I can mail it to her; talking with this guy would be a waste of my very well-planned-out time.” Which was silly. I missed a one-time-opportunity to show love to my brother in Christ in order to accomplish a task I could have done at any number of other times.
What did you see today?
Towards the end of my lunch hour today, a man approached me and tried to hand me a flyer. I asked what it was, and he said it would help me figure out if I was going to heaven after I die. I said, "interesting," and walked on without taking the flyer.
Commentary
One of my favorite characters from the Sylvia comic strip, is The Woman who Does Everything More Beautifully than You. I think she's supposed to be a send-up of Martha Stewart, but she actually reminds me a lot of myself. Those of you who have seen my home or my artwork are excused to go explode with laughter.
Now then, what I mean is that when I set out to do things, I'm very detail oriented. I used to work at the Oakland SPCA, which has now been incorporated into the East Bay SPCA. Cleaning kennels used to take me hours longer than everyone else, because I did every step exactly the way I was told, covered every surface with disinfectant, dried thoroughly, and never, ever took shortcuts. I really believe that there’s no point in doing something if you’re not going to do it right. I don’t think I have an obsessive-compulsive disorder, because I don’t feel compelled to do things this way; I just like it.
It can lead to problems, though. Have you heard of the “tyranny of the urgent?” I’m more dominated by the “tyranny of the plan,” as in, I am taking these steps now; don’t try to interrupt me with something else. Which brings me to the gentleman with the flyer. I was on my lunch hour. I had no urgent duties keeping me from engaging with him and building a relationship. But here’s what went through my head: “I’ve bought this sympathy card; I need to write a message in it and look up my co-workers address so I can mail it to her; talking with this guy would be a waste of my very well-planned-out time.” Which was silly. I missed a one-time-opportunity to show love to my brother in Christ in order to accomplish a task I could have done at any number of other times.
What did you see today?
9/03/2006
I heard a Jackson Browne song
Context
I heard the Jackson Browne song “Doctor, My Eyes” on the radio today. These are the lyrics:
Doctor, my eyes have seen the years
And the slow parade of tears
Without crying.
Now I want to understand.
‘Cause I have done all that I could
To see the evil and the good
Without hiding.
You must help me if you can!
Doctor, my eyes!
Tell me what is wrong.
Was I unwise
To leave them open for so long?
‘Cause I have wandered through this world.
As each moment has unfurled
I’ve been waiting
To awaken from these dreams.
People go just where they will.
I never noticed them until
I got this feeling
That it’s later than it seems.
Doctor, my eyes!
Tell me what you see.
I hear their cries.
Just say if it’s too late for me.
Doctor, my eyes
Cannot see the sky.
Is this the price
For having learned how not to cry?
Copyright Jackson Browne, 1971. Used by permission.
If you've never heard the song, you can find an mp3 on this webpage.
Commentary
I like Jackson Browne in general, but this is by far my favorite of his songs. At the beginning this guy narrates his attempt to be an unbiased observer of everything and, in the first chorus, expresses his concern that he’s injured himself by seeing too much. Later, the listener realizes that the protagonist may be looking at everything, but not really seeing a great deal of it (how is possible to be this great observer, but “never notice” the people?). And finally, one gets the impression that the injury was not caused by being an observer, but by trying to stay “unbiased” while actual hurt is going on in the world.
This is not only another one of these “I heard” instead of “I saw” entries, but the first one in over a month! I don’t think about this blog every day, but when it has come to mind lately, I’ve thought, “I haven’t really seen anything.” I could be tempted to wonder if I’m suffering from the same eye condition Jackson Browne describes. Have I been trying so hard to stay unbiased that I’m no longer able to see anything? Or worse, has God decided that there’s no sense in showing me anything if I won’t do anything about it?
The temptation is there, but in the end I know a couple of things:
1) Every day is a gift and an opportunity to serve the Lord. Maybe this is a time of more resting than seeing.
2) God is stubborn. If He wants me to see stuff, He’s going to keep showing it to me until I respond correctly. To paraphrase “Alice’s Restaurant,” another favorite song, “He’s not proud. Or tired.”
What did you see today?
I heard the Jackson Browne song “Doctor, My Eyes” on the radio today. These are the lyrics:
Doctor, my eyes have seen the years
And the slow parade of tears
Without crying.
Now I want to understand.
‘Cause I have done all that I could
To see the evil and the good
Without hiding.
You must help me if you can!
Doctor, my eyes!
Tell me what is wrong.
Was I unwise
To leave them open for so long?
‘Cause I have wandered through this world.
As each moment has unfurled
I’ve been waiting
To awaken from these dreams.
People go just where they will.
I never noticed them until
I got this feeling
That it’s later than it seems.
Doctor, my eyes!
Tell me what you see.
I hear their cries.
Just say if it’s too late for me.
Doctor, my eyes
Cannot see the sky.
Is this the price
For having learned how not to cry?
Copyright Jackson Browne, 1971. Used by permission.
If you've never heard the song, you can find an mp3 on this webpage.
Commentary
I like Jackson Browne in general, but this is by far my favorite of his songs. At the beginning this guy narrates his attempt to be an unbiased observer of everything and, in the first chorus, expresses his concern that he’s injured himself by seeing too much. Later, the listener realizes that the protagonist may be looking at everything, but not really seeing a great deal of it (how is possible to be this great observer, but “never notice” the people?). And finally, one gets the impression that the injury was not caused by being an observer, but by trying to stay “unbiased” while actual hurt is going on in the world.
This is not only another one of these “I heard” instead of “I saw” entries, but the first one in over a month! I don’t think about this blog every day, but when it has come to mind lately, I’ve thought, “I haven’t really seen anything.” I could be tempted to wonder if I’m suffering from the same eye condition Jackson Browne describes. Have I been trying so hard to stay unbiased that I’m no longer able to see anything? Or worse, has God decided that there’s no sense in showing me anything if I won’t do anything about it?
The temptation is there, but in the end I know a couple of things:
1) Every day is a gift and an opportunity to serve the Lord. Maybe this is a time of more resting than seeing.
2) God is stubborn. If He wants me to see stuff, He’s going to keep showing it to me until I respond correctly. To paraphrase “Alice’s Restaurant,” another favorite song, “He’s not proud. Or tired.”
What did you see today?
7/17/2006
I saw the consequences of an oft-repeated mistake
Context
I have a variety of job duties at Shreve Memorial Library, which is not unusual for my profession. One of these is administrating our integrated library system. Another is training staff members on how to use it. Today I was informed that someone made a mistake on the system last Wednesday. The person who notified me stated in her e-mail that “everyone claims innocence,” but further pressing revealed that it was probably a third party who has made this error many times before. It’s possible that the only reason I was told about it was because the mistake in question requires my intervention before anyone at that particular branch can perform the same task. The fix took about 30 seconds, but because I’ve been on vacation, what should be a daily task at that branch has been left undone for five days. It took considerably longer than 30 seconds to compose an e-mail expressing my ire at this ongoing situation to the mistake-maker’s supervisor (a fourth party!).
Commentary
One of the ladies who attends my Quaker meeting thinks Jesus can’t have been perfect because He got mad at people. I disagree. I definitely think there’s such thing as righteous anger and that mine usually fits the criteria ;-).
Anyway, I hope my e-mail to the supervisor expressed the reason for my anger adequately. It’s a little irritating that the same mistake keeps being made over and over again, but what really burns my butt is not being told about it by the responsible party. Politically, I didn’t feel like I could confront the mistake-maker directly, so I was left to speculate on the reasons why she didn’t tell me about the problem herself. I came up with three:
1) She doesn’t think it’s a big enough problem to bother mentioning. As you can tell by this entry, she’s wrong. It’s a sufficient inconvenience to enough people to require immediate action.
2) She figures I’ll find out eventually from someone. Why should she lay herself on the line? I did find out about this eventually from someone, so she was right about that. On the other hand, she’s still smack in the middle of the situation, not because I want to blame someone, but because of necessity any solution to the problem will involve her.
3) She feels like she’s made this mistake so many times that we’ve used up every possible preventative. She’s wrong about that as well. I’m a professional trainer; I’ve always got another educational trick up my sleeve.
So this whole episode got me thinking about confession. Essentially, what I’m wanting from my coworker is what God wants from us: He wants us to admit that we’ve done wrong. Christians (well, everybody actually, but I know the Christian experience better than any other) have many reasons for not wanting to confess our sins to God. Or at least, three:
1) We don’t think the sin is big enough that we need to confess it. What’s a little lust in your heart as compared to bombing innocent children? The problem is, the sinner almost never has any idea of the magnitude of her sin or the effect it’s going to have on other people. We are all too inclined to let ourselves slide for actions we would find unacceptable in other people. Better to let an outside judge take a look at that error for us, I think.
2) God knows that we sin; it seems pointless to discuss it with Him. People use a similar reason for not offering prayers of petition: God knows what I need. Of course He does! In my experience, prayer of all types is not for the purpose of getting God’s attention. It’s to focus ours. In the case of confession, any twelve-step program will tell you that the first step to solving a problem is admitting you have one.
3) We feel like it’s hopeless. We’ve been down the same path so many times before and nothing ever changes. Really? Nothing? In my experience, it’s never actually the same situation twice. Maybe this time I realize a split-second earlier that I’m doing wrong. Maybe this person calls me on it instead of suffering in silence like the last 29 have done. I’m not saying the changes are always pleasant or even appear positive. I am saying that if Lynn the trainer always has a trick up her sleeve, imagine what God must have in that big old white robe or whatever He wears?
What did you see today?
I have a variety of job duties at Shreve Memorial Library, which is not unusual for my profession. One of these is administrating our integrated library system. Another is training staff members on how to use it. Today I was informed that someone made a mistake on the system last Wednesday. The person who notified me stated in her e-mail that “everyone claims innocence,” but further pressing revealed that it was probably a third party who has made this error many times before. It’s possible that the only reason I was told about it was because the mistake in question requires my intervention before anyone at that particular branch can perform the same task. The fix took about 30 seconds, but because I’ve been on vacation, what should be a daily task at that branch has been left undone for five days. It took considerably longer than 30 seconds to compose an e-mail expressing my ire at this ongoing situation to the mistake-maker’s supervisor (a fourth party!).
Commentary
One of the ladies who attends my Quaker meeting thinks Jesus can’t have been perfect because He got mad at people. I disagree. I definitely think there’s such thing as righteous anger and that mine usually fits the criteria ;-).
Anyway, I hope my e-mail to the supervisor expressed the reason for my anger adequately. It’s a little irritating that the same mistake keeps being made over and over again, but what really burns my butt is not being told about it by the responsible party. Politically, I didn’t feel like I could confront the mistake-maker directly, so I was left to speculate on the reasons why she didn’t tell me about the problem herself. I came up with three:
1) She doesn’t think it’s a big enough problem to bother mentioning. As you can tell by this entry, she’s wrong. It’s a sufficient inconvenience to enough people to require immediate action.
2) She figures I’ll find out eventually from someone. Why should she lay herself on the line? I did find out about this eventually from someone, so she was right about that. On the other hand, she’s still smack in the middle of the situation, not because I want to blame someone, but because of necessity any solution to the problem will involve her.
3) She feels like she’s made this mistake so many times that we’ve used up every possible preventative. She’s wrong about that as well. I’m a professional trainer; I’ve always got another educational trick up my sleeve.
So this whole episode got me thinking about confession. Essentially, what I’m wanting from my coworker is what God wants from us: He wants us to admit that we’ve done wrong. Christians (well, everybody actually, but I know the Christian experience better than any other) have many reasons for not wanting to confess our sins to God. Or at least, three:
1) We don’t think the sin is big enough that we need to confess it. What’s a little lust in your heart as compared to bombing innocent children? The problem is, the sinner almost never has any idea of the magnitude of her sin or the effect it’s going to have on other people. We are all too inclined to let ourselves slide for actions we would find unacceptable in other people. Better to let an outside judge take a look at that error for us, I think.
2) God knows that we sin; it seems pointless to discuss it with Him. People use a similar reason for not offering prayers of petition: God knows what I need. Of course He does! In my experience, prayer of all types is not for the purpose of getting God’s attention. It’s to focus ours. In the case of confession, any twelve-step program will tell you that the first step to solving a problem is admitting you have one.
3) We feel like it’s hopeless. We’ve been down the same path so many times before and nothing ever changes. Really? Nothing? In my experience, it’s never actually the same situation twice. Maybe this time I realize a split-second earlier that I’m doing wrong. Maybe this person calls me on it instead of suffering in silence like the last 29 have done. I’m not saying the changes are always pleasant or even appear positive. I am saying that if Lynn the trainer always has a trick up her sleeve, imagine what God must have in that big old white robe or whatever He wears?
What did you see today?
6/17/2006
I saw an article in the Texarkana Gazette
Context
I go to Quaker meeting in Texarkana, even though I live in Shreveport. Today someone brought a copy of the Texarkana Gazette to meeting, and it had an article about people protesting a home for recovering drug addicts being planned in their neighborhood. This is a quote from the article: “'I don’t know of anybody who really gets off drugs and they come with all that baggage and we don’t want that around our children,' said Sheila Oates, who lives on Stipp Lane not too far from the location."
Commentary
NIMBY-type protests strike me as the worst possible kind of hypocrisy, because the people involved almost always agree that the activity in question is necessary or even desirable, but they don’t want to have to live near it. They’re not anti-nuclear power; they’re pro-making someone else live with the consequences. I suppose I should be happy that some of the protesters in this case are at least being consistent enough to say they don't see any point in attempting to rehabilitate drug users anywhere.
I'm not happy, though. In fact, I find this case particularly irksome, because of something the members of my meeting keep hammering into my head: “everyone around here is a Christian.” The members of my meeting who are not Christian sometimes feel ostracized and persecuted because they don’t believe “correctly.” Or they just don’t bother to tell people and save themselves the grief. So we have a whole city full of Christians which includes at least one neighborhood where they don’t want to have to be around drug addicts. Interesting.
Now, don’t get me wrong. My Lutheran upbringing makes me a strong believer in “saved by grace through faith alone.” There is no action one can take (or not take) to ensure one’s salvation except believing in the Gospel. But I always hope for myself and my brothers and sisters in Christ that after we’ve been saved we will be of some benefit to the rest of the world. Rejecting people at the very moment when they’re trying to turn their lives around doesn’t seem beneficial to anyone, including the Christian children you’re trying to raise.
I think this is a hazard to being a Christian in the South. When being a Christian is the norm, then “normal” behavior, like shielding your children from people with problems, becomes equated with Christian behavior, so it doesn’t need to be examined or questioned. That’s one of the reasons I’m strongly in favor of the separation of church and state. Once we have a “Christian” government, then everything it does will be, by definition, Christian. Yeah, right.
What did you see today?
I go to Quaker meeting in Texarkana, even though I live in Shreveport. Today someone brought a copy of the Texarkana Gazette to meeting, and it had an article about people protesting a home for recovering drug addicts being planned in their neighborhood. This is a quote from the article: “'I don’t know of anybody who really gets off drugs and they come with all that baggage and we don’t want that around our children,' said Sheila Oates, who lives on Stipp Lane not too far from the location."
Commentary
NIMBY-type protests strike me as the worst possible kind of hypocrisy, because the people involved almost always agree that the activity in question is necessary or even desirable, but they don’t want to have to live near it. They’re not anti-nuclear power; they’re pro-making someone else live with the consequences. I suppose I should be happy that some of the protesters in this case are at least being consistent enough to say they don't see any point in attempting to rehabilitate drug users anywhere.
I'm not happy, though. In fact, I find this case particularly irksome, because of something the members of my meeting keep hammering into my head: “everyone around here is a Christian.” The members of my meeting who are not Christian sometimes feel ostracized and persecuted because they don’t believe “correctly.” Or they just don’t bother to tell people and save themselves the grief. So we have a whole city full of Christians which includes at least one neighborhood where they don’t want to have to be around drug addicts. Interesting.
Now, don’t get me wrong. My Lutheran upbringing makes me a strong believer in “saved by grace through faith alone.” There is no action one can take (or not take) to ensure one’s salvation except believing in the Gospel. But I always hope for myself and my brothers and sisters in Christ that after we’ve been saved we will be of some benefit to the rest of the world. Rejecting people at the very moment when they’re trying to turn their lives around doesn’t seem beneficial to anyone, including the Christian children you’re trying to raise.
I think this is a hazard to being a Christian in the South. When being a Christian is the norm, then “normal” behavior, like shielding your children from people with problems, becomes equated with Christian behavior, so it doesn’t need to be examined or questioned. That’s one of the reasons I’m strongly in favor of the separation of church and state. Once we have a “Christian” government, then everything it does will be, by definition, Christian. Yeah, right.
What did you see today?
6/15/2006
I saw my coworker encourage someone to fill out a form
Context
A patron at the Shreve Memorial Library saw us giving a computer class today. When she asked about registration, I handed her this form. She then asked about scheduling, and I told her that we have a months-long waiting list. She said she couldn’t wait that long, so my coworker showed her a self-help program on the computer. Then she encouraged the patron to fill out the form anyway.
Commentary
I am the youngest of four children by quite a bit and, as any of my siblings will gleefully tell you, that means I’m spoiled rotten. I guess they say that because I only do what I want to do. In some ways, this makes me a wretched person. I have almost no sense of obligation, and I get royally hacked off at people who try to make me obliged to them. I’m even suspect of gifts, in case they come with strings attached. Also, when I don’t like the situation I’m in, I tend to bail. Hence my checkered employment history.
However, I think there’s something good about being spoiled rotten. For one thing, I’m not subject to peer pressure at all. Also, in my case at least, it tends to be a global mindset. I want everyone to do what they want. It’s one of the reasons I’m good at customer service, but would be terrible at sales. I don’t try to convince people to do something, I try to make sure they’re able to do what they want. In fact, I sometimes frustrate the people who sign up for computer classes, because they’ll ask, “what should I take?” Ick! “Should” sounds like an obligation! So I ask them right back, “what do you want to learn?”
My coworker’s actions today puzzled me, because her mind went in a direction mine never would have. My way of working is the patron asks us for something she wants, and we let her know if we can provide that. Yes, we have computer classes. No, you can’t take them right away. End of transaction.
My coworker took extra steps, showing the patron the self-help program and talking her into filling out the registration form anyway. I think the former was a case of trying to make our available services fit the patron’s wants, which was absolutely appropriate. The latter, however, shaded into trying to make the patron settle for what we have. It felt like my coworker was saying, “go ahead and sign up to wait for a few months. You said you didn’t want to, but maybe you didn’t really mean it.” I think that’s wrong. I know what I want. I try to spoil everyone else by assuming they do too.
What did you see today?
A patron at the Shreve Memorial Library saw us giving a computer class today. When she asked about registration, I handed her this form. She then asked about scheduling, and I told her that we have a months-long waiting list. She said she couldn’t wait that long, so my coworker showed her a self-help program on the computer. Then she encouraged the patron to fill out the form anyway.
Commentary
I am the youngest of four children by quite a bit and, as any of my siblings will gleefully tell you, that means I’m spoiled rotten. I guess they say that because I only do what I want to do. In some ways, this makes me a wretched person. I have almost no sense of obligation, and I get royally hacked off at people who try to make me obliged to them. I’m even suspect of gifts, in case they come with strings attached. Also, when I don’t like the situation I’m in, I tend to bail. Hence my checkered employment history.
However, I think there’s something good about being spoiled rotten. For one thing, I’m not subject to peer pressure at all. Also, in my case at least, it tends to be a global mindset. I want everyone to do what they want. It’s one of the reasons I’m good at customer service, but would be terrible at sales. I don’t try to convince people to do something, I try to make sure they’re able to do what they want. In fact, I sometimes frustrate the people who sign up for computer classes, because they’ll ask, “what should I take?” Ick! “Should” sounds like an obligation! So I ask them right back, “what do you want to learn?”
My coworker’s actions today puzzled me, because her mind went in a direction mine never would have. My way of working is the patron asks us for something she wants, and we let her know if we can provide that. Yes, we have computer classes. No, you can’t take them right away. End of transaction.
My coworker took extra steps, showing the patron the self-help program and talking her into filling out the registration form anyway. I think the former was a case of trying to make our available services fit the patron’s wants, which was absolutely appropriate. The latter, however, shaded into trying to make the patron settle for what we have. It felt like my coworker was saying, “go ahead and sign up to wait for a few months. You said you didn’t want to, but maybe you didn’t really mean it.” I think that’s wrong. I know what I want. I try to spoil everyone else by assuming they do too.
What did you see today?
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