Context
I was looking at the cover of the January 2008 Vanity Fair today, and it apparently had an interview with Katherine Heigl inside. I didn’t read the interview, but there was a pull quote on the cover saying, in effect, that Ms. Heigl thought the part she played in Knocked Up was a little “sexist,” because she was humorless and uptight. I haven’t seen Knocked Up, nor have I read the script.
Commentary
I’m not quite sure what Ms. Heigl means by her character being “sexist.” The character might have had some unattractive traits, but in order to be “sexist,” she would have to hold specific prejudices against either men or women and that’s not what the rest of the quote seems to imply.
I’m not just playing with semantics here. I think we often make the mistake of thinking that creating a stereotypical fiction character, i.e. one that embodies some of the prejudices people hold, is sexist. It may be inappropriate, lazy or stupid, but it’s not sexist.
Sexism (or ageism or racism or sexual orientationism) is the process of generalizing, of saying that certain characteristics are true of everyone who belongs to a given group. Writing a character a certain way only implies that one member of the group holds them. And realistically, it’s just as silly to write as if there are no humorless uptight women as it is to say all of them are.
It is possible to write a sexist character in the way the Heigl quote seems to imply. If the script said, “like all women, the character is humorless and uptight,” that would be sexism. On the other hand, it seems unlikely that any self-respecting actress would have taken the part if they’d read something like that.
What did you see today?
1/11/2008
12/13/2007
I saw a description of education
Context
I was reading through some more messages on the Information Literacy Instruction mailing list today. One of them was about academic institutions whose campus-wide goals reflect an emphasis on information literacy. Reading the various examples, I found this snippet from the mission statement for the University of North Carolina at Charlotte: "Develop an understanding and appreciation of the themes of liberal education for private and public life in the areas of arts and society, the western tradition, global understanding, and ethical issues and cultural critique." As a person who is generally liberal in my political opinions, the use of the phrase "liberal education" struck me.
Commentary
A quick check of Wikipedia and the Association of American Colleges and Universities' website shows that "liberal education" means essentially the same thing as "liberal arts education": the idea that it's beneficial to learn about many subjects instead of just focusing on the field you plan to make money in.
I was wondering, though, if some people see the term "liberal education" and think it means education in how to be a liberal. In other words, the liberal education one would get at UNCC might be in contrast to the conservative education one would get at Oral Roberts University. I would have never thought that way about liberal arts colleges, but seeing "liberal" and "education" right next to each other made the idea more plausible.
Actually, one might not be mistaken in seeing it that way. A recent poll by Zogby and The Norman Lear Center showed that when it comes to television at least, people with liberal political views are much more likely than political conservatives to watch a variety of different types of shows, not disdaining even those whose views they disagree with. In retrospect this is not a surprising result. For me, liberalism means being open to everything. Illiberalism, on the other hand, posits that certain views are so obviously dangerous or erroneous that they don't even bear examination.
It bears noting, however, that liberalism and illiberalism are not always equivalent to left-wing and right-wing political convictions. I've lived in California; I know plenty of radicals who are convinced the only way to effect social change is to annihilate anyone who holds a contrary opinion. I also have friends who have a Republican's love for small government but don't vilify me for not sharing it. And in spite of my general liberalism, I'm fairly conservative religiously and economically. None of my convictions ever make me want to shut my eyes to what else is out there.
What did you see today?
I was reading through some more messages on the Information Literacy Instruction mailing list today. One of them was about academic institutions whose campus-wide goals reflect an emphasis on information literacy. Reading the various examples, I found this snippet from the mission statement for the University of North Carolina at Charlotte: "Develop an understanding and appreciation of the themes of liberal education for private and public life in the areas of arts and society, the western tradition, global understanding, and ethical issues and cultural critique." As a person who is generally liberal in my political opinions, the use of the phrase "liberal education" struck me.
Commentary
A quick check of Wikipedia and the Association of American Colleges and Universities' website shows that "liberal education" means essentially the same thing as "liberal arts education": the idea that it's beneficial to learn about many subjects instead of just focusing on the field you plan to make money in.
I was wondering, though, if some people see the term "liberal education" and think it means education in how to be a liberal. In other words, the liberal education one would get at UNCC might be in contrast to the conservative education one would get at Oral Roberts University. I would have never thought that way about liberal arts colleges, but seeing "liberal" and "education" right next to each other made the idea more plausible.
Actually, one might not be mistaken in seeing it that way. A recent poll by Zogby and The Norman Lear Center showed that when it comes to television at least, people with liberal political views are much more likely than political conservatives to watch a variety of different types of shows, not disdaining even those whose views they disagree with. In retrospect this is not a surprising result. For me, liberalism means being open to everything. Illiberalism, on the other hand, posits that certain views are so obviously dangerous or erroneous that they don't even bear examination.
It bears noting, however, that liberalism and illiberalism are not always equivalent to left-wing and right-wing political convictions. I've lived in California; I know plenty of radicals who are convinced the only way to effect social change is to annihilate anyone who holds a contrary opinion. I also have friends who have a Republican's love for small government but don't vilify me for not sharing it. And in spite of my general liberalism, I'm fairly conservative religiously and economically. None of my convictions ever make me want to shut my eyes to what else is out there.
What did you see today?
11/26/2007
I saw a website about the writers' strike
Context
As a big fan of filmed entertainment, I've been paying a lot of attention to the WGA West strike. I get a lot of my information from whedonesque.com, because of both my admiration for Joss Whedon himself and my respect for this particular fan community. Whedonesque, in its turn, led me to fans4writers.com, which details actions fans can take to support the striking writers.
Commentary
I am wildly ambivalent about unions. On one hand, I recognize that the right to collective bargaining is an important weapon against poverty, injustice and oppression. On the other hand, I don't like closed shops and resented the fact that when I worked as a public school teacher in Texas I was forced to join the teachers’ union. I guess I feel like in a perfect world individuals would make up their own minds about appropriate working conditions and not take jobs that didn’t fulfill them. However, I am nowhere near naive enough to believe this is a perfect world.
Contributing to my confused stance is my recognition that in 21st century America, well-established labor unions can actually benefit employers who think in the long term. They prevent disruptive wildcat strikes and allow enterprises to use standardized contracts for classes of workers, rather than negotiating new terms for each new hire.
So how does this affect my feelings about the writers’ strike? Well, for one thing I’ll say that this seems like one of those circumstances where studios and entertainment corporations ought to be overjoyed to be able to negotiate with one entity, rather than having to work out a payment scheme with each of the thousands of writers they employ. Moreover, because I love writing and writers, I can’t see any reason why they shouldn’t get a reasonable percentage of the profits created by their efforts, regardless of the medium.
The upshot is although I’m wildly ambivalent about unions, I’m foursquare behind the WGA West on this particular action. So I’ll be taking some of the actions proposed by fans4writers.com. No visits to promotional websites and no downloading of filmed entertainment until the strike is resolved. Possibly even a phone call or two to network executives.
What did you see today?
As a big fan of filmed entertainment, I've been paying a lot of attention to the WGA West strike. I get a lot of my information from whedonesque.com, because of both my admiration for Joss Whedon himself and my respect for this particular fan community. Whedonesque, in its turn, led me to fans4writers.com, which details actions fans can take to support the striking writers.
Commentary
I am wildly ambivalent about unions. On one hand, I recognize that the right to collective bargaining is an important weapon against poverty, injustice and oppression. On the other hand, I don't like closed shops and resented the fact that when I worked as a public school teacher in Texas I was forced to join the teachers’ union. I guess I feel like in a perfect world individuals would make up their own minds about appropriate working conditions and not take jobs that didn’t fulfill them. However, I am nowhere near naive enough to believe this is a perfect world.
Contributing to my confused stance is my recognition that in 21st century America, well-established labor unions can actually benefit employers who think in the long term. They prevent disruptive wildcat strikes and allow enterprises to use standardized contracts for classes of workers, rather than negotiating new terms for each new hire.
So how does this affect my feelings about the writers’ strike? Well, for one thing I’ll say that this seems like one of those circumstances where studios and entertainment corporations ought to be overjoyed to be able to negotiate with one entity, rather than having to work out a payment scheme with each of the thousands of writers they employ. Moreover, because I love writing and writers, I can’t see any reason why they shouldn’t get a reasonable percentage of the profits created by their efforts, regardless of the medium.
The upshot is although I’m wildly ambivalent about unions, I’m foursquare behind the WGA West on this particular action. So I’ll be taking some of the actions proposed by fans4writers.com. No visits to promotional websites and no downloading of filmed entertainment until the strike is resolved. Possibly even a phone call or two to network executives.
What did you see today?
11/18/2007
I heard John Madden talk about sportsmanship
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?
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?
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