Context
I'm reading Our Choice of Gods by Richard Parrish. It's a novel about the roots and consequences of conflict in Palestine, starting with Jewish lives destroyed by the Holocaust, which leads to the Israelis' callousness toward the Palestinians in the Holy Land, which in turn causes the Palestinians to embrace terrorism, and so on and so on. I picked up the book because, although the causes of violence are obvious to me, I was interested to see what would make someone turn the other way and actually embrace peace.
Commentary
When I was in college I came to the conclusion that, popular opinion to the side, men were actually much more romantic than women. "Romantic" in this case meaning they were much more likely to believe in things like love at first sight and eternal soul mates than the women I knew, who talked more about "not losing your head" and "making the relationship work."
"Wow, you've really gone far afield there, Lynn." Bear with me; I'm coming back. Similarly to the way conventional wisdom says women are romantic, it also says pacifists are hopelessly unrealistic in their view of a world where everyone gives each other warm fuzzies all the time. Actually, that's not what I believe as a pacifist, but more importantly, I think the proponents of violence are far more impractical than I am, in that they believe they can harness that wildfire to a particular set of goals.
Consider Palestine. This is an area of the world where two groups of people (well, actually about 500 groups of people, but let's try to keep it simple) hold the following belief: there is some act of violence we can commit that will cause the other group to leave this place and never come back. Over time, some members of both groups have given this belief up, but there is a seemingly endless supply of instigators who pop up and say, "No, no, this time I have a plan that will win us a decisive victory," the evidence of the past 60 years (or the past several thousand, but again, I'm trying to simplify) notwithstanding. How is that more realistic than pacifism, which often says at its base, "I don't respond well to force. Therefore I'm going to assume you don't either."?
What did you see today?
1/24/2011
12/16/2010
I saw an icon on my desktop
Context
I was sending material to the consultant who's setting up an intranet for Shreve Memorial today. While I was working, I happened to notice the icon for editing the library's new website that I put on my desktop a few days ago.
Commentary
OK, I know, "Way to put nothing useful in the Context, Lynn!" The reason the juxtaposition above struck me as interesting is that I was not entirely happy about the way either our website or our intranet was set up. Yet here I was, happily contributing to both of them now that they are faits accompli. That's pretty much normal for me; once a decision is made I prefer to deal with the new reality rather than stewing or sulking. I'm not passive-aggressive, in other words. Aggressive-aggressive, but not passive-aggressive.
So does that mean I cave when I lose an argument? Maybe. For me it just means acknowledging the argument is in fact lost, that I can see things not go my way and I don't have to spend an inordinate amount of time trying to reset the universe. Plus it doesn't seem weak to me; it seems empowering. A decision gets made; I don't agree with it; I then get to make my own decision whether to adapt, fight openly, or leave, all of which sound more productive to me than denial or sabotage.
Frankly, sometimes my flexibility in accommodating different viewpoints feels like a great intellectual and/or spiritual achievement to me. And yes, sometimes I go along with a new procedure just so I can be around to see how spectacularly it'll fail. So maybe I'm a little passive-aggressive.
What did you see today?
I was sending material to the consultant who's setting up an intranet for Shreve Memorial today. While I was working, I happened to notice the icon for editing the library's new website that I put on my desktop a few days ago.
Commentary
OK, I know, "Way to put nothing useful in the Context, Lynn!" The reason the juxtaposition above struck me as interesting is that I was not entirely happy about the way either our website or our intranet was set up. Yet here I was, happily contributing to both of them now that they are faits accompli. That's pretty much normal for me; once a decision is made I prefer to deal with the new reality rather than stewing or sulking. I'm not passive-aggressive, in other words. Aggressive-aggressive, but not passive-aggressive.
So does that mean I cave when I lose an argument? Maybe. For me it just means acknowledging the argument is in fact lost, that I can see things not go my way and I don't have to spend an inordinate amount of time trying to reset the universe. Plus it doesn't seem weak to me; it seems empowering. A decision gets made; I don't agree with it; I then get to make my own decision whether to adapt, fight openly, or leave, all of which sound more productive to me than denial or sabotage.
Frankly, sometimes my flexibility in accommodating different viewpoints feels like a great intellectual and/or spiritual achievement to me. And yes, sometimes I go along with a new procedure just so I can be around to see how spectacularly it'll fail. So maybe I'm a little passive-aggressive.
What did you see today?
11/10/2010
I saw a description of groupings
Context
I read Andrew Sullivan's article about the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear on The Atlantic's website today. In it, he mentions that although we have three major political groups in the United States (Republicans, Democrats and Independents), we also have three cultural one (idealogues, pragmatists, and the totally indifferent).
Commentary
At first I thought I liked the idea of cultural groupings as opposed to political ones because I don't really fit comfortably into a Republican, Democratic, or Independent box. I mean, I usually self-identify as Independent, but as Inigo Montoya would say, "I don't think that word means what you think it means."
"Independent" for me does not imply "centrist," but rather "left of Democratic." I often vote Democrat, but I'll be danged if I'll call myself one! And if I'm completely honest, I have to say I'm sometimes to the right of the average Democrat as well, especially when it comes to intellectual freedom.
On the other hand, I don't really belong exclusively to an idealistic, pragmatic or indifferent culture either. I'm generally pragmatic, but when it comes to certain bedrock principles (peace, integrity, equality, simplicity), I can be just as dogmatic as the next person. And there are some political issues I'm not interested in. Local elections in Shreveport often revolve around code enforcement. I try to care, but I really don't.
No, I think what attracts me to the cultural groupings described by Sullivan is not that they describe me better, but that they seem to allow for a lot more flexibility in our political dialogue. Maybe I'm being all too pragmatic, but doesn't it seem like things would go better if we could just acknowledge these different characteristics in each other?
Try this on for size: "Oh, that's an issue that's of deep personal concern to you and my treating it clinically is not helpful. Go ahead and tell me about your passion and I'll listen because I care about you as a person."
Or maybe: "I can see you're not as vested in this problem as I am, so I won't waste time for both of us trying to bring you over to my side."
Even: "No, I wouldn't dream of calling you a RINO because your interests are different from mine. That would be rude."
What did you see today?
I read Andrew Sullivan's article about the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear on The Atlantic's website today. In it, he mentions that although we have three major political groups in the United States (Republicans, Democrats and Independents), we also have three cultural one (idealogues, pragmatists, and the totally indifferent).
Commentary
At first I thought I liked the idea of cultural groupings as opposed to political ones because I don't really fit comfortably into a Republican, Democratic, or Independent box. I mean, I usually self-identify as Independent, but as Inigo Montoya would say, "I don't think that word means what you think it means."
"Independent" for me does not imply "centrist," but rather "left of Democratic." I often vote Democrat, but I'll be danged if I'll call myself one! And if I'm completely honest, I have to say I'm sometimes to the right of the average Democrat as well, especially when it comes to intellectual freedom.
On the other hand, I don't really belong exclusively to an idealistic, pragmatic or indifferent culture either. I'm generally pragmatic, but when it comes to certain bedrock principles (peace, integrity, equality, simplicity), I can be just as dogmatic as the next person. And there are some political issues I'm not interested in. Local elections in Shreveport often revolve around code enforcement. I try to care, but I really don't.
No, I think what attracts me to the cultural groupings described by Sullivan is not that they describe me better, but that they seem to allow for a lot more flexibility in our political dialogue. Maybe I'm being all too pragmatic, but doesn't it seem like things would go better if we could just acknowledge these different characteristics in each other?
Try this on for size: "Oh, that's an issue that's of deep personal concern to you and my treating it clinically is not helpful. Go ahead and tell me about your passion and I'll listen because I care about you as a person."
Or maybe: "I can see you're not as vested in this problem as I am, so I won't waste time for both of us trying to bring you over to my side."
Even: "No, I wouldn't dream of calling you a RINO because your interests are different from mine. That would be rude."
What did you see today?
11/05/2010
I saw another bumper sticker
Context
I saw another pro-gun ownership bumper sticker today, this one quoting Adolf Hitler in his apparent affinity for gun control. There is both a description of the sticker and evidence refuting its historical accuracy at this link.
Commentary
I have added a gadget to this blog whereby you can easily e-mail, tweet, Google Buzz, Facebook or reblog any entry on it. Maybe I'll become famous. Also, Blogger now says they're using automatic spam control on comments. That makes me a little sad.
Housekeeping aside, I do want to make it clear that I see and read bumper stickers about other issues besides the 2nd Amendment! I wonder if the pro-gun ones capture more of my attention because people are having to make kind of a tricky argument. After all, just saying, "I'm opposed to handgun control because I like to kill people" is kind of a non-starter.
I was disappointed, but not surprised, to see the Hitler quote is likely a fake. Although I find some NRA-type arguments spurious, I'm squarely on the side of those who say the founding fathers wrote the 2nd Amendment so citizens could defend themselves from government. After all, they had just finished separating themselves from an oppressive regime by, well, fighting a war.
I'd like to believe we don't have to worry about defending ourselves in a democracy, but historically that hasn't proven true. After all, most of the acts we complained about in the Declaration of Independence came from the British Parliament, a democratically-elected body. Even Hitler himself rose through the power of the ballot box. And everybody voted in the former Soviet Union.
So I'm sympathetic to the idea that we can't rely on any government to keep us safe or to have our best interests at heart. However, I don't think packing heat is the appropriate response to the situation. After all, if guns are outlawed, people who aren't outlaws might be inclined to come up with more sensible ways to resolve their differences.
What did you see today?
I saw another pro-gun ownership bumper sticker today, this one quoting Adolf Hitler in his apparent affinity for gun control. There is both a description of the sticker and evidence refuting its historical accuracy at this link.
Commentary
I have added a gadget to this blog whereby you can easily e-mail, tweet, Google Buzz, Facebook or reblog any entry on it. Maybe I'll become famous. Also, Blogger now says they're using automatic spam control on comments. That makes me a little sad.
Housekeeping aside, I do want to make it clear that I see and read bumper stickers about other issues besides the 2nd Amendment! I wonder if the pro-gun ones capture more of my attention because people are having to make kind of a tricky argument. After all, just saying, "I'm opposed to handgun control because I like to kill people" is kind of a non-starter.
I was disappointed, but not surprised, to see the Hitler quote is likely a fake. Although I find some NRA-type arguments spurious, I'm squarely on the side of those who say the founding fathers wrote the 2nd Amendment so citizens could defend themselves from government. After all, they had just finished separating themselves from an oppressive regime by, well, fighting a war.
I'd like to believe we don't have to worry about defending ourselves in a democracy, but historically that hasn't proven true. After all, most of the acts we complained about in the Declaration of Independence came from the British Parliament, a democratically-elected body. Even Hitler himself rose through the power of the ballot box. And everybody voted in the former Soviet Union.
So I'm sympathetic to the idea that we can't rely on any government to keep us safe or to have our best interests at heart. However, I don't think packing heat is the appropriate response to the situation. After all, if guns are outlawed, people who aren't outlaws might be inclined to come up with more sensible ways to resolve their differences.
What did you see today?
11/02/2010
I saw someone not getting the point
Context
I watcheda portion of MSNBC's Countdown with Keith Olberman on the web today. I was interested in it because it referenced the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear, an event I really, really wanted to go to but settled for watching on TV. I didn't watch the entire segment, because I think I understood the points Olberman was making early on. The Countdown segment has an edited version of what Jon Stewart had to say at the rally; you can find unedited video here, by scrolling down on the left side to Moment of Sincerity.
Commentary
I think Keith Olberman was trying to say two things in his response to Jon Stewart:
1. "Maybe I should try to tone down the unproductive anger." No argument here. I love the Daily Show in general, but this rally in particular spoke to me, because I believe reason desperately needs to be restored to our national discourse.
Trust me, I am never one to walk away from an argument. But that's because I want my opinion heard and I want to hear its counterpoint. For the same reason, and possibly because of my family background, I cheerfully walk away from shouting matches. No one's getting heard there, which in some ways is OK with me because I'm pretty sure little of value is being said. Or, as Jon Stewart says in the clip referenced above, "If we amplify everything, we hear nothing."
2. "It's not demonizing your opponent if your opponent really is a demon." True enough, Keith, but as I think Jon was trying to explain, this is not applicable to anyone currently active in American politics.
It's funny. Even though the term "reactionary" is supposed to apply to ultra-conservative people, I think the literal definition fits Keith Olberman to a T. His standard MO is to hear an outrageous statement from the right and respond by making an equally outrageous statement. But he would have us believe there is no actual equivalence because he's on the side of truth, justice and the American way and his opponents are prone to sacrificing cute little kittens on the altar of bad journalism.
I don't buy it. I don't think two wrongs make a right, I cannot be convinced that good ends ever justify bad means, and absent seeing horns growing out of their heads or smelling brimstone on their breaths, I refuse to believe that people with values and beliefs that differ from mine are demons. Because that would be insane.
What did you see today?
I watcheda portion of MSNBC's Countdown with Keith Olberman on the web today. I was interested in it because it referenced the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear, an event I really, really wanted to go to but settled for watching on TV. I didn't watch the entire segment, because I think I understood the points Olberman was making early on. The Countdown segment has an edited version of what Jon Stewart had to say at the rally; you can find unedited video here, by scrolling down on the left side to Moment of Sincerity.
Commentary
I think Keith Olberman was trying to say two things in his response to Jon Stewart:
1. "Maybe I should try to tone down the unproductive anger." No argument here. I love the Daily Show in general, but this rally in particular spoke to me, because I believe reason desperately needs to be restored to our national discourse.
Trust me, I am never one to walk away from an argument. But that's because I want my opinion heard and I want to hear its counterpoint. For the same reason, and possibly because of my family background, I cheerfully walk away from shouting matches. No one's getting heard there, which in some ways is OK with me because I'm pretty sure little of value is being said. Or, as Jon Stewart says in the clip referenced above, "If we amplify everything, we hear nothing."
2. "It's not demonizing your opponent if your opponent really is a demon." True enough, Keith, but as I think Jon was trying to explain, this is not applicable to anyone currently active in American politics.
It's funny. Even though the term "reactionary" is supposed to apply to ultra-conservative people, I think the literal definition fits Keith Olberman to a T. His standard MO is to hear an outrageous statement from the right and respond by making an equally outrageous statement. But he would have us believe there is no actual equivalence because he's on the side of truth, justice and the American way and his opponents are prone to sacrificing cute little kittens on the altar of bad journalism.
I don't buy it. I don't think two wrongs make a right, I cannot be convinced that good ends ever justify bad means, and absent seeing horns growing out of their heads or smelling brimstone on their breaths, I refuse to believe that people with values and beliefs that differ from mine are demons. Because that would be insane.
What did you see today?
9/19/2010
I saw a printing error
Context
I was reading this article in the hard copy Shreveport Times today. The print version of the article ended with 'An analysis of the charity's reports to the IRS show contributions have steadily increased over the last three years, reaching nearly $1.2 billion in fiscal year 2009, the most recent for"
Commentary
It appears that the Times didn't allow enough column space for this article, because the version I've linked to not only completes the sentence referenced above, it also contains two more full paragraphs! I remarked to my husband that making a calculation like that should be part of Printing 101. He said the problem was probably that decisions about spacing were left to the printing software. As an information technology worker I said, "Yup, that would be a problem all right."
The information technology department at Shreve Memorial Library is called "Automation." This is a holdover from the time when our main purpose as an organizational unit was converting our card catalog and manual circulation system (Are you old enough to remember when someone had to match a card from a book to a card with your name and put them in a file box together?) to automated objects.
This is an example, and I think a positive one, of how computer systems promote efficiency. However, because of instances like I saw today, I don't think it's a good idea to let computers replace people. When we do, we risk making significant sacrifices, because computers lack judgment and an understanding of nuance.
It seems to me that this was something automobile manufacturers and others learned in the 1980s, when they emphasized that a person could stop an automated assembly line if they saw something wrong. What was interesting about this movement is that it led not only to improved product, but also improved worker morale.
It's not surprising that as creatures with imaginative and subtle brains, we prefer to do work that uses them, not just perform the same tasks over and over again like cogs in a machine. But as consumers we often favor cheap, easy-to-find, or faddish items over high-quality ones. So we make it hard for human labor to be both successful and fulfilling, which I think is a shame.
What did you see today?
I was reading this article in the hard copy Shreveport Times today. The print version of the article ended with 'An analysis of the charity's reports to the IRS show contributions have steadily increased over the last three years, reaching nearly $1.2 billion in fiscal year 2009, the most recent for"
Commentary
It appears that the Times didn't allow enough column space for this article, because the version I've linked to not only completes the sentence referenced above, it also contains two more full paragraphs! I remarked to my husband that making a calculation like that should be part of Printing 101. He said the problem was probably that decisions about spacing were left to the printing software. As an information technology worker I said, "Yup, that would be a problem all right."
The information technology department at Shreve Memorial Library is called "Automation." This is a holdover from the time when our main purpose as an organizational unit was converting our card catalog and manual circulation system (Are you old enough to remember when someone had to match a card from a book to a card with your name and put them in a file box together?) to automated objects.
This is an example, and I think a positive one, of how computer systems promote efficiency. However, because of instances like I saw today, I don't think it's a good idea to let computers replace people. When we do, we risk making significant sacrifices, because computers lack judgment and an understanding of nuance.
It seems to me that this was something automobile manufacturers and others learned in the 1980s, when they emphasized that a person could stop an automated assembly line if they saw something wrong. What was interesting about this movement is that it led not only to improved product, but also improved worker morale.
It's not surprising that as creatures with imaginative and subtle brains, we prefer to do work that uses them, not just perform the same tasks over and over again like cogs in a machine. But as consumers we often favor cheap, easy-to-find, or faddish items over high-quality ones. So we make it hard for human labor to be both successful and fulfilling, which I think is a shame.
What did you see today?
8/13/2010
I saw a contradiction
Context
I am currently reading Acres of Diamonds, a speech given by Russell Conwell, the founder of Temple University. I'm reading it in book form, and on page 41, Conwell tells a story about John Jacob Astor's success coming in small part because when he owned a hat shop, he only sold bonnets copied from ones he had seen contented ladies wearing. Then, on page 47, Conwell talks about how important great inventors are in a capitalist society.
Commentary
Acres of Diamonds is a polemic extolling the virtues of making money, almost to the exclusion of all else, so I'm probably predisposed to pick it apart. It was funny though, I read the Astor story and said to myself, "So Conwell is saying innovation is bad." Then I got to page 47 and thought, "Unless it's a successful innovation that makes money. Then he's saying it's good!"
I think this odd juxtaposition struck me harder because earlier this week I was in a two-day workshop where I thought the consultant contradicted herself repeatedly. In fact, there were enough instances that I thought I could develop a pretty good drinking game based on them, but you know how punchy you get at these things.
Anyway, these two sets of circumstances got me thinking about why people contradict themselves and why we as listeners sometimes don't notice. I came up with two reasons:
1) Someone is presenting so much information that contradictions kind of creep in unnoticed. I think this is applicable not only to Conwell, who seemed to want to say everything good about capitalism at once and the consultant, who was trying to fit a great deal of material about library planning into two days, but also the world in general these days, where so much information is available that it's hard to take a moment and realize that "A" cannot exist in the same universe as "B." I think we should pay attention if this is happening, and you can count on The Daily Show to point out as many of them as they can get their hands on, but morally the phenomenon is pretty benign.
2) Someone is so intent on making a point that they will use whatever arguments are at hand, even if they make no logical sense. This is not so benign and nearly impossible to combat. It is the argument that starts with, "We know President Obama is not a citizen because he can't produce a birth certificate," then decides to cover all bases with, "The birth certificate President Obama has showed people is falsified."
My concerns about #2 are, I think, why I'm picky about internal contradictions in a presentation. If you're trying to convince me of something, I want all your arguments to line up and make sense. Otherwise, I just think you're trying to sell me something.
What did you see today?
I am currently reading Acres of Diamonds, a speech given by Russell Conwell, the founder of Temple University. I'm reading it in book form, and on page 41, Conwell tells a story about John Jacob Astor's success coming in small part because when he owned a hat shop, he only sold bonnets copied from ones he had seen contented ladies wearing. Then, on page 47, Conwell talks about how important great inventors are in a capitalist society.
Commentary
Acres of Diamonds is a polemic extolling the virtues of making money, almost to the exclusion of all else, so I'm probably predisposed to pick it apart. It was funny though, I read the Astor story and said to myself, "So Conwell is saying innovation is bad." Then I got to page 47 and thought, "Unless it's a successful innovation that makes money. Then he's saying it's good!"
I think this odd juxtaposition struck me harder because earlier this week I was in a two-day workshop where I thought the consultant contradicted herself repeatedly. In fact, there were enough instances that I thought I could develop a pretty good drinking game based on them, but you know how punchy you get at these things.
Anyway, these two sets of circumstances got me thinking about why people contradict themselves and why we as listeners sometimes don't notice. I came up with two reasons:
1) Someone is presenting so much information that contradictions kind of creep in unnoticed. I think this is applicable not only to Conwell, who seemed to want to say everything good about capitalism at once and the consultant, who was trying to fit a great deal of material about library planning into two days, but also the world in general these days, where so much information is available that it's hard to take a moment and realize that "A" cannot exist in the same universe as "B." I think we should pay attention if this is happening, and you can count on The Daily Show to point out as many of them as they can get their hands on, but morally the phenomenon is pretty benign.
2) Someone is so intent on making a point that they will use whatever arguments are at hand, even if they make no logical sense. This is not so benign and nearly impossible to combat. It is the argument that starts with, "We know President Obama is not a citizen because he can't produce a birth certificate," then decides to cover all bases with, "The birth certificate President Obama has showed people is falsified."
My concerns about #2 are, I think, why I'm picky about internal contradictions in a presentation. If you're trying to convince me of something, I want all your arguments to line up and make sense. Otherwise, I just think you're trying to sell me something.
What did you see today?
7/31/2010
I saw people protesting
Context
I had a dream this morning where I was participating in some kind of multi-day animal-related activity. I couldn't tell you what because it was a dream, but when I looked outside the fence of the facility we were meeting in, I saw some people holding picket signs saying things along the lines of "Animals are not servants!" "Free the beasts!", etc. I walked up to the fence so I could get a closer look, and two dogs belonging to one of the protesters came up to me, so I started petting them and talking to them. Later, when I came out to have the barbecue dinner that was scheduled for that night, I saw that the protesters had dispersed and I was glad.
Commentary
I used to have a difficult time describing my position on animal issues, but I think I now have a phrase that makes the appropriate distinctions. I am an animal welfare activist, not an animal rights activist. To summarize, this means that I think human beings ought to be good stewards of the animals in our care, particularly domesticated ones, and that I think the people in PETA are nutcases. Refining my position further, I'll say that animal rights activists get upset about things that I think are positive, like training dogs to do service work. In fact, I think that may have been what was going on in my dream, but I can't say for sure.
I have been known to engage in formal protests, but as I grow older I find myself doing it less and less. There was a pivotal event in my life about twenty years ago that helped me see demonstrations differently. I was living in Oakland at the time, and there was some kind of political dispute going on over People's Park in Berkeley that had grown violent. As is pretty normal for me, I was on the "left" side of the dispute. Twenty years serving about the same purpose as an unconscious state, I don't remember at all the reason for the conflict.
Anyway, one day I decided I needed to go down to the Park and get involved in what was going on. I probably had a plan for what to do, and it probably involved confronting law enforcement, but when I got to downtown Berkeley, I found myself just walking around and watching what was going on. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this "seeing" thing has been going on with me for a long time. And, as I described it to my husband later, all I could see were people. No bad guys, no good guys, just people.
So I came home and thought twice about participating in protests after that. I'm not saying that being in a demonstration requires demonizing the opposition. I'm saying that hanging out with a large, or a small-but-committed, group of people that agrees with you makes it more likely you will think it's irrational to disagree with you. And that's an opinion I never want to hold.
I believe the people in my dream were surprised I was petting their dogs. They had a vision of who I was because I was participating in this event, and the vision included "hates animals." I'd like to think that they stopped their protest because they saw that the truth wasn't so black and white. Perhaps it's arrogant to think that my actions could change people's minds so quickly, but it's my dream; I can say what I want!
I'm moved by this because I've been having some other dreams lately where I get angry when someone violates a closely-held belief of mine, and my expressions of anger never accomplish any good end. This latest dip into my subconscious let me see the other side: when I emphasize relationships over principles (I could've just ignored the protesters and gone about my business), good things happen.
This is what occurred to me when I woke from my dream: God doesn't love principles; God loves people. The Bible doesn't actually say that anywhere, but I can't draw any other reasonable conclusions from the contradictory threads of Jesus' life and ministry. Specifically, I think that's what he meant when He said the Sabbath was made for people, not the other way around. Principles are not bad, any more that sincerely-intended political protests are. You just can't let them get in the way of the important stuff.
What did you see today?
I had a dream this morning where I was participating in some kind of multi-day animal-related activity. I couldn't tell you what because it was a dream, but when I looked outside the fence of the facility we were meeting in, I saw some people holding picket signs saying things along the lines of "Animals are not servants!" "Free the beasts!", etc. I walked up to the fence so I could get a closer look, and two dogs belonging to one of the protesters came up to me, so I started petting them and talking to them. Later, when I came out to have the barbecue dinner that was scheduled for that night, I saw that the protesters had dispersed and I was glad.
Commentary
I used to have a difficult time describing my position on animal issues, but I think I now have a phrase that makes the appropriate distinctions. I am an animal welfare activist, not an animal rights activist. To summarize, this means that I think human beings ought to be good stewards of the animals in our care, particularly domesticated ones, and that I think the people in PETA are nutcases. Refining my position further, I'll say that animal rights activists get upset about things that I think are positive, like training dogs to do service work. In fact, I think that may have been what was going on in my dream, but I can't say for sure.
I have been known to engage in formal protests, but as I grow older I find myself doing it less and less. There was a pivotal event in my life about twenty years ago that helped me see demonstrations differently. I was living in Oakland at the time, and there was some kind of political dispute going on over People's Park in Berkeley that had grown violent. As is pretty normal for me, I was on the "left" side of the dispute. Twenty years serving about the same purpose as an unconscious state, I don't remember at all the reason for the conflict.
Anyway, one day I decided I needed to go down to the Park and get involved in what was going on. I probably had a plan for what to do, and it probably involved confronting law enforcement, but when I got to downtown Berkeley, I found myself just walking around and watching what was going on. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this "seeing" thing has been going on with me for a long time. And, as I described it to my husband later, all I could see were people. No bad guys, no good guys, just people.
So I came home and thought twice about participating in protests after that. I'm not saying that being in a demonstration requires demonizing the opposition. I'm saying that hanging out with a large, or a small-but-committed, group of people that agrees with you makes it more likely you will think it's irrational to disagree with you. And that's an opinion I never want to hold.
I believe the people in my dream were surprised I was petting their dogs. They had a vision of who I was because I was participating in this event, and the vision included "hates animals." I'd like to think that they stopped their protest because they saw that the truth wasn't so black and white. Perhaps it's arrogant to think that my actions could change people's minds so quickly, but it's my dream; I can say what I want!
I'm moved by this because I've been having some other dreams lately where I get angry when someone violates a closely-held belief of mine, and my expressions of anger never accomplish any good end. This latest dip into my subconscious let me see the other side: when I emphasize relationships over principles (I could've just ignored the protesters and gone about my business), good things happen.
This is what occurred to me when I woke from my dream: God doesn't love principles; God loves people. The Bible doesn't actually say that anywhere, but I can't draw any other reasonable conclusions from the contradictory threads of Jesus' life and ministry. Specifically, I think that's what he meant when He said the Sabbath was made for people, not the other way around. Principles are not bad, any more that sincerely-intended political protests are. You just can't let them get in the way of the important stuff.
What did you see today?
7/27/2010
I saw myself get angry
Context
My husband and I are traveling back from a vacation in Richmond on the Amtrak Crescent. A little before 4:00, the hostess from the dining car came around to inform us that dinner would be served at 4:30. We thought this was silly for a couple of reasons, including the fact that the train was running late. We tried to express this to her, but she appeared to be "on script" and not interested in what we were saying. I got angry, and after she left I told my husband I didn't want dinner because I didn't want to have to deal with her. She apparently heard me, because she came back to our bedroom to try to explain the situation again, but I blew her off. After some discussion with my husband, I went to the dining car (at 4:30!) and apologized to her for complaining behind her back.
Commentary
Really? The context wasn't painful enough, you want commentary? OK, here are some random thoughts:
I really do love train travel, but this particular trip has had its hiccups.
My husband is my conscience a great deal of the time.
I've had several obvious "message from God" dreams lately and at first I interpreted them as pertaining to hospitality. The more I consider them, however, the more I realize they're about anger and they come with a bright neon message: anger throws up a barrier between me and my basic beliefs about what's important, like hospitality and building relationships through good communication.
What did you see today?
My husband and I are traveling back from a vacation in Richmond on the Amtrak Crescent. A little before 4:00, the hostess from the dining car came around to inform us that dinner would be served at 4:30. We thought this was silly for a couple of reasons, including the fact that the train was running late. We tried to express this to her, but she appeared to be "on script" and not interested in what we were saying. I got angry, and after she left I told my husband I didn't want dinner because I didn't want to have to deal with her. She apparently heard me, because she came back to our bedroom to try to explain the situation again, but I blew her off. After some discussion with my husband, I went to the dining car (at 4:30!) and apologized to her for complaining behind her back.
Commentary
Really? The context wasn't painful enough, you want commentary? OK, here are some random thoughts:
I really do love train travel, but this particular trip has had its hiccups.
My husband is my conscience a great deal of the time.
I've had several obvious "message from God" dreams lately and at first I interpreted them as pertaining to hospitality. The more I consider them, however, the more I realize they're about anger and they come with a bright neon message: anger throws up a barrier between me and my basic beliefs about what's important, like hospitality and building relationships through good communication.
What did you see today?
7/08/2010
I saw an article about incentives
Context
Duplicate issues of magazines the library receives are kept in the staff lounge. The April 19th edition of Time, had a cover story about the results of and reactions to a series of economics experiments giving cash incentives to students in public schools. Read the article here, if you like.
What I read of the article discussed the scientific rigor behind the experiments, conducted by Roland Fryer, Jr. of Harvard, and their varied results. It also pointed that many people really disliked the idea that they were being conducted at all. Educators in particular wanted students to develop a love of learning, not constantly have a hand out for tangible rewards. On the other hand, the writer for Time said, "most adults work primarily for money, and in a curious way, we seem to be holding kids to a higher standard than we hold ourselves." I stopped reading at that point.
Commentary
Just to kick things off, I'd like to give kudos to Time for their online archive. It is remarkably easy to find and use, and that's something librarians care deeply about.
I didn't stop reading the article because I was disgusted with the subject matter; I found it fascinating. Too fascinating, because as soon as I got to the "most adults work primarily for money" line I had to stop and think about incentives in my own life for a good ten to fifteen minutes.
Money almost never works as an incentive to me. I have taken jobs in the past just to pay the bills, but you could have given me million-dollar bonuses and I still wouldn't have done them particularly well or with any enthusiasm. In fact, my dad gave me cash for good grades a couple of times when I was in high school, and although I didn't turn them down, my internal attitude was pretty much "Yeah, whatever."
The good opinion of others works, but only from people I respect, and there aren't a whole lot of those on the planet. With the distance of years I've developed some real sympathy for people whom I didn't care for who were trying to get me to do stuff. Even when they went the punishment route, as some educators did, they found that in my perverse way I usually considered that a badge of honor.
I remember love of learning being an incentive for me, especially when I first entered school and, ironically enough, when I went to grad school in my mid-thirties. But I also remember that throughout my educational career I put special effort into any assignment I considered interesting or worthy of my talents. And I'd be willing to bet that's true of most people. The problem is, it's a moving target; what's interesting to me is deadly dull to others (Shall I talk to you about controlled vocabularies again?). And of course, my talents are different from yours.
I still believe it's a goal worth pursuing. In fact, in human resources and training materials I often read about the need to personalize rewards to the individual worker's values and goals, rather than taking a one-type-fits-all approach. So if we're going to adopt a business-type model for education, I'd rather we go with that one. And if money is what works for some students (sigh!), then why not start handing it out, if only to help them see that their individual opinions have worth? As Dr. Fryer says, let's try "treat[ing] kids not as inanimate objects but as human beings who behave in interesting ways."
What did you see today?
Duplicate issues of magazines the library receives are kept in the staff lounge. The April 19th edition of Time, had a cover story about the results of and reactions to a series of economics experiments giving cash incentives to students in public schools. Read the article here, if you like.
What I read of the article discussed the scientific rigor behind the experiments, conducted by Roland Fryer, Jr. of Harvard, and their varied results. It also pointed that many people really disliked the idea that they were being conducted at all. Educators in particular wanted students to develop a love of learning, not constantly have a hand out for tangible rewards. On the other hand, the writer for Time said, "most adults work primarily for money, and in a curious way, we seem to be holding kids to a higher standard than we hold ourselves." I stopped reading at that point.
Commentary
Just to kick things off, I'd like to give kudos to Time for their online archive. It is remarkably easy to find and use, and that's something librarians care deeply about.
I didn't stop reading the article because I was disgusted with the subject matter; I found it fascinating. Too fascinating, because as soon as I got to the "most adults work primarily for money" line I had to stop and think about incentives in my own life for a good ten to fifteen minutes.
Money almost never works as an incentive to me. I have taken jobs in the past just to pay the bills, but you could have given me million-dollar bonuses and I still wouldn't have done them particularly well or with any enthusiasm. In fact, my dad gave me cash for good grades a couple of times when I was in high school, and although I didn't turn them down, my internal attitude was pretty much "Yeah, whatever."
The good opinion of others works, but only from people I respect, and there aren't a whole lot of those on the planet. With the distance of years I've developed some real sympathy for people whom I didn't care for who were trying to get me to do stuff. Even when they went the punishment route, as some educators did, they found that in my perverse way I usually considered that a badge of honor.
I remember love of learning being an incentive for me, especially when I first entered school and, ironically enough, when I went to grad school in my mid-thirties. But I also remember that throughout my educational career I put special effort into any assignment I considered interesting or worthy of my talents. And I'd be willing to bet that's true of most people. The problem is, it's a moving target; what's interesting to me is deadly dull to others (Shall I talk to you about controlled vocabularies again?). And of course, my talents are different from yours.
I still believe it's a goal worth pursuing. In fact, in human resources and training materials I often read about the need to personalize rewards to the individual worker's values and goals, rather than taking a one-type-fits-all approach. So if we're going to adopt a business-type model for education, I'd rather we go with that one. And if money is what works for some students (sigh!), then why not start handing it out, if only to help them see that their individual opinions have worth? As Dr. Fryer says, let's try "treat[ing] kids not as inanimate objects but as human beings who behave in interesting ways."
What did you see today?
7/02/2010
I saw a comment on social standing
Context
It is often the case that when I want to understand a problem better, I find a book on the topic. So now I'm in the middle of reading a book by Hilde Bruch called Conversations with Anorexics. This is a quote I read today: "Paula then went into much detail about the pain of growing up in a small town where she felt not recognized as belonging to a leading family."
Commentary
I grew up in one of the biggest cities in the world. And in a very small town. Let me explain: my family moved to Mexico City when I was eight years old, but because we're Americans most of our social interactions took place within the sizable-for-what-it-is, but still small, English-speaking community.
So my view of my place in the community during those years was different from what it would have been if I'd grown up in the country of my birth where nearly everyone spoke the same language I did. Here's an example: I went to the American School, an expensive, private, college-prep school, which my father's employer paid for as an incentive to accept a foreign assignment. While there, I socialized with the children of diplomats, high-level Mexican government officials (the college prep applied to both U.S. and Mexican institutions), missionaries, and others. These are the kind of people I would have never encountered at the public school a mile away from our family's home in Michigan.
The thing is, at the American School we didn't arrange ourselves according to the social strata our parents belonged to. This may be typical of kids thrown together everywhere, but we used kid standards (athletic prowess, physical beauty, what passes for sophistication when you're twelve, etc.) for status, not adult ones. I went out on a date with the son of the Mexican Secretary of Tourism one time. He was as low on the socially awkward totem pole as I was. On the other hand, there were girls in my social circle who used to belittle my ineptness all the time. It was only with time that I discovered two important realities:
1) My dad was their dad's boss.
2) I was going on to college. They were going back to rural Michigan to get married and have babies.
I am very grateful to my parents for the opportunity to grow up this way. I still feel a little out of place in my native culture (Why oh why don't you people kiss each other to say "Hello"?), but I think it gave me a good perspective on the malleability of social structure and an ability to be comfortable in my own skin under almost any circumstances. And I speak Spanish reasonably well.
¿ Que ha visto usted hoy?
It is often the case that when I want to understand a problem better, I find a book on the topic. So now I'm in the middle of reading a book by Hilde Bruch called Conversations with Anorexics. This is a quote I read today: "Paula then went into much detail about the pain of growing up in a small town where she felt not recognized as belonging to a leading family."
Commentary
I grew up in one of the biggest cities in the world. And in a very small town. Let me explain: my family moved to Mexico City when I was eight years old, but because we're Americans most of our social interactions took place within the sizable-for-what-it-is, but still small, English-speaking community.
So my view of my place in the community during those years was different from what it would have been if I'd grown up in the country of my birth where nearly everyone spoke the same language I did. Here's an example: I went to the American School, an expensive, private, college-prep school, which my father's employer paid for as an incentive to accept a foreign assignment. While there, I socialized with the children of diplomats, high-level Mexican government officials (the college prep applied to both U.S. and Mexican institutions), missionaries, and others. These are the kind of people I would have never encountered at the public school a mile away from our family's home in Michigan.
The thing is, at the American School we didn't arrange ourselves according to the social strata our parents belonged to. This may be typical of kids thrown together everywhere, but we used kid standards (athletic prowess, physical beauty, what passes for sophistication when you're twelve, etc.) for status, not adult ones. I went out on a date with the son of the Mexican Secretary of Tourism one time. He was as low on the socially awkward totem pole as I was. On the other hand, there were girls in my social circle who used to belittle my ineptness all the time. It was only with time that I discovered two important realities:
1) My dad was their dad's boss.
2) I was going on to college. They were going back to rural Michigan to get married and have babies.
I am very grateful to my parents for the opportunity to grow up this way. I still feel a little out of place in my native culture (Why oh why don't you people kiss each other to say "Hello"?), but I think it gave me a good perspective on the malleability of social structure and an ability to be comfortable in my own skin under almost any circumstances. And I speak Spanish reasonably well.
¿ Que ha visto usted hoy?
6/30/2010
I saw an underweight coworker
Context
One of my coworkers at the library was overweight when he first got his job. He then went on the paleolithic diet. He got down to a healthy weight and kept on going, so now he is too thin for his large frame. My relationship with this young man is cordial but not close.
Commentary
Actually, "cordial but not close" is pretty much what I go for in all my relationships. I mean, I'm married and I have family and a couple of close friends, but in general I don't bond tightly with other human beings.
And therein lies a problem. I'm concerned about my coworker. He may be ill, but given his personality (he strikes me as someone who sees things very much in black and white) I'm concerned he may be anorexic. But I'm nowhere near close enough to him to ask him about it.
Closeness is not the only issue. Current etiquette dictates that we don't make casual comments on appearance in the workplace, as doing so risks a charge of unprofessionalism or outright harassment. And in society at large we generally don't talk about a person's weight at all. Remember, the only time you should ask a woman if she's pregnant is when you see a baby emerging from her womb. I guess the reason behind this is that we are expected to be hypersensitive about our weight, and if my coworker really does have an eating disorder the last thing I want to do is promote hypersensitivity.
But is the only alternative to say nothing at all? To, in fact, have my eyes open and not open my mouth? Or do I have to take the long way around and get closer to him and then express concern? This loving thy neighbor stuff is hard!
What did you see today?
One of my coworkers at the library was overweight when he first got his job. He then went on the paleolithic diet. He got down to a healthy weight and kept on going, so now he is too thin for his large frame. My relationship with this young man is cordial but not close.
Commentary
Actually, "cordial but not close" is pretty much what I go for in all my relationships. I mean, I'm married and I have family and a couple of close friends, but in general I don't bond tightly with other human beings.
And therein lies a problem. I'm concerned about my coworker. He may be ill, but given his personality (he strikes me as someone who sees things very much in black and white) I'm concerned he may be anorexic. But I'm nowhere near close enough to him to ask him about it.
Closeness is not the only issue. Current etiquette dictates that we don't make casual comments on appearance in the workplace, as doing so risks a charge of unprofessionalism or outright harassment. And in society at large we generally don't talk about a person's weight at all. Remember, the only time you should ask a woman if she's pregnant is when you see a baby emerging from her womb. I guess the reason behind this is that we are expected to be hypersensitive about our weight, and if my coworker really does have an eating disorder the last thing I want to do is promote hypersensitivity.
But is the only alternative to say nothing at all? To, in fact, have my eyes open and not open my mouth? Or do I have to take the long way around and get closer to him and then express concern? This loving thy neighbor stuff is hard!
What did you see today?
6/25/2010
I saw a review of a book
Context
One of the tasks I perform at my library is looking over the new book lists in our catalog to make sure the items are displaying properly. Our catalog contains reviews of some items and sometimes I read those, even though it's not a necessary component of the task.
This is a quote I read today from the Library Journal review of Lynette Eason's Too Close to Home: "Readers who enjoy romantic suspense authors Suzanne Brockmann and Sandra Brown but who prefer their thrills with a little more conscience and a lot less sex will be thrilled with Eason's new series opener." Eason is classified as a Christian suspense author.
Commentary
I have been neglecting my calling. And as often happens with backsliding, I didn't realize it for a long time. I haven't posted to this blog for two and a half months, not because I haven't been seeing anything (I always see stuff), but because I didn't think I needed to say anything about it.
Here's an example: I was at a funeral visitation last weekend, waiting outside while a rosary was being said for the deceased. Some of the other people outside were making fun of the rosary. Yes, you read that correctly. At a funeral, there were people making fun of the rosary being said for the departed. Anyway, I didn't know anyone else who was around, so I didn't say anything to them about this appalling lack of respect. I figured it wouldn't do any good.
And this morning when I read the review excerpted above I had some thoughts about it, but I didn't plan to blog because I didn't think my opinions would be of interest to anyone. And then I remembered. The call was to open my eyes and open my mouth, not to be interesting or even effective. The words are my responsibility; the response is not. Luckily, repentance is always an option, so onward!
Although I am a Christian, I rarely read what is called Christian literature. I'm not using the conditional term above because I don't think the literature is Christian. It's just that, as with so many other parts of our culture today, it seems certain people have co-opted the term so that nothing outside their realm is considered Christian. In order to satisfy that segment of the population, a book has to uphold conservative values, particularly those pertaining to personal morality. It also has to say at its core that although there may be some ups and downs to life, correct religious belief and practice will eventually give you all the answers you need.
Which brings me to a Christian author I do like: C.S. Lewis. I read his works, you should pardon the expression, religiously. But apparently he's not quite Christian enough. A library colleague I respect in Arkansas, Lesley Knieriem, made this statement about him in response to a request for Christian authors: "Lewis's space trilogy [is] well known, but . . . once again would not be acceptable to the ECPA." The ECPA is the Evangelical Christian Publishers Association. I had to look that up.
I can see what Lesley means. The final book in the series cited has the Jesus stand-in (named Ransom, because Lewis is not a subtle man) utter this line about one of his companions: "He is our sceptic; a very important office." Somehow I can't see a Gilbert Morris protagonist making that kind of statement. Even less can I picture a contemporary piece of Christian children's literature containing a scene like the one near the end of the Chronicles of Narnia series, where a person who has been serving Satan (or Baal, depending on your interpretation) all his life is told that there is a place for him in heaven because his actions were virtuous, even though they were pointed at the wrong God!
In the end, I think they problem is one of intent. It seems to be that the current crop of Christian authors seek to comfort their readers, while Lewis was always in the business of challenging his, even the youngest of them. And when it comes to my religious health, I don't need a lot of massage. I need resistance training.
What did you see today?
One of the tasks I perform at my library is looking over the new book lists in our catalog to make sure the items are displaying properly. Our catalog contains reviews of some items and sometimes I read those, even though it's not a necessary component of the task.
This is a quote I read today from the Library Journal review of Lynette Eason's Too Close to Home: "Readers who enjoy romantic suspense authors Suzanne Brockmann and Sandra Brown but who prefer their thrills with a little more conscience and a lot less sex will be thrilled with Eason's new series opener." Eason is classified as a Christian suspense author.
Commentary
I have been neglecting my calling. And as often happens with backsliding, I didn't realize it for a long time. I haven't posted to this blog for two and a half months, not because I haven't been seeing anything (I always see stuff), but because I didn't think I needed to say anything about it.
Here's an example: I was at a funeral visitation last weekend, waiting outside while a rosary was being said for the deceased. Some of the other people outside were making fun of the rosary. Yes, you read that correctly. At a funeral, there were people making fun of the rosary being said for the departed. Anyway, I didn't know anyone else who was around, so I didn't say anything to them about this appalling lack of respect. I figured it wouldn't do any good.
And this morning when I read the review excerpted above I had some thoughts about it, but I didn't plan to blog because I didn't think my opinions would be of interest to anyone. And then I remembered. The call was to open my eyes and open my mouth, not to be interesting or even effective. The words are my responsibility; the response is not. Luckily, repentance is always an option, so onward!
Although I am a Christian, I rarely read what is called Christian literature. I'm not using the conditional term above because I don't think the literature is Christian. It's just that, as with so many other parts of our culture today, it seems certain people have co-opted the term so that nothing outside their realm is considered Christian. In order to satisfy that segment of the population, a book has to uphold conservative values, particularly those pertaining to personal morality. It also has to say at its core that although there may be some ups and downs to life, correct religious belief and practice will eventually give you all the answers you need.
Which brings me to a Christian author I do like: C.S. Lewis. I read his works, you should pardon the expression, religiously. But apparently he's not quite Christian enough. A library colleague I respect in Arkansas, Lesley Knieriem, made this statement about him in response to a request for Christian authors: "Lewis's space trilogy [is] well known, but . . . once again would not be acceptable to the ECPA." The ECPA is the Evangelical Christian Publishers Association. I had to look that up.
I can see what Lesley means. The final book in the series cited has the Jesus stand-in (named Ransom, because Lewis is not a subtle man) utter this line about one of his companions: "He is our sceptic; a very important office." Somehow I can't see a Gilbert Morris protagonist making that kind of statement. Even less can I picture a contemporary piece of Christian children's literature containing a scene like the one near the end of the Chronicles of Narnia series, where a person who has been serving Satan (or Baal, depending on your interpretation) all his life is told that there is a place for him in heaven because his actions were virtuous, even though they were pointed at the wrong God!
In the end, I think they problem is one of intent. It seems to be that the current crop of Christian authors seek to comfort their readers, while Lewis was always in the business of challenging his, even the youngest of them. And when it comes to my religious health, I don't need a lot of massage. I need resistance training.
What did you see today?
4/06/2010
I heard about a medical appointment
Context
A coworker who was in my office today mentioned that she wouldn't be available for something because she had a doctor's appointment in Dallas she'd made a year ago. As the day went on I grew increasingly curious about what sort of medical appointment one would make a year in advance.
Commentary
If you think I'm going to satisfy your curiosity about what kind of medical appointment is made a year in advance, I have bad news for you for two reasons:
1) I don't know.
2) It's someone's medical appointment, for crying out loud!
Anyway, my intent is to blog about my curiosity. I have always been enormously curious. The "open my eyes" aspect of this blog is never a burden on me; I'm constantly trying to see what's going on and why, especially when it comes to people. It's the main reason I studied history at Rice: the opportunity to find out what people did in a given situation, and better yet, how it turned out, was well-nigh irresistible to me.
Nothing wrong with curiosity since I'm not a cat, but in my case it can lead to snooping. My curiosity about what makes people tick has lead me to read diaries, eavesdrop on private conversations and, on one memorable occasion, read a series of love letters between a coworker and someone who was decidedly not her husband.
Please understand, I don't snoop in order to exert any power over a person, either in terms of blackmail or gossip. Frankly, in order to use any secrets I learn I would have to reveal how I came by the knowledge and that's just plain embarrassing. Nope, it really is just a case of me saying, "Oh! That's what's going on in that person's life. Interesting." In fact, if I wanted to justify myself I could even say that it gives me some insights that help me love my brothers and sisters in Christ more.
Except that it doesn't, any more than rape helps spark a romantic relationship. I was so pleased, by the way, when General Hospital finally dealt with that. I know it was hard to tarnish one of their supercouples, but seriously!
Anyway, snooping is information rape: it takes something from a person that they might have offered willingly without giving him/her a choice in the matter. It's not only violence, it's laziness, in the sense of not taking the time to cultivate a relationship where intimacies are shared as equals. So I think it's better to live with a little unsatisfied curiosity than to feed vampirically off someone else's emotional life.
What did you hear today?
A coworker who was in my office today mentioned that she wouldn't be available for something because she had a doctor's appointment in Dallas she'd made a year ago. As the day went on I grew increasingly curious about what sort of medical appointment one would make a year in advance.
Commentary
If you think I'm going to satisfy your curiosity about what kind of medical appointment is made a year in advance, I have bad news for you for two reasons:
1) I don't know.
2) It's someone's medical appointment, for crying out loud!
Anyway, my intent is to blog about my curiosity. I have always been enormously curious. The "open my eyes" aspect of this blog is never a burden on me; I'm constantly trying to see what's going on and why, especially when it comes to people. It's the main reason I studied history at Rice: the opportunity to find out what people did in a given situation, and better yet, how it turned out, was well-nigh irresistible to me.
Nothing wrong with curiosity since I'm not a cat, but in my case it can lead to snooping. My curiosity about what makes people tick has lead me to read diaries, eavesdrop on private conversations and, on one memorable occasion, read a series of love letters between a coworker and someone who was decidedly not her husband.
Please understand, I don't snoop in order to exert any power over a person, either in terms of blackmail or gossip. Frankly, in order to use any secrets I learn I would have to reveal how I came by the knowledge and that's just plain embarrassing. Nope, it really is just a case of me saying, "Oh! That's what's going on in that person's life. Interesting." In fact, if I wanted to justify myself I could even say that it gives me some insights that help me love my brothers and sisters in Christ more.
Except that it doesn't, any more than rape helps spark a romantic relationship. I was so pleased, by the way, when General Hospital finally dealt with that. I know it was hard to tarnish one of their supercouples, but seriously!
Anyway, snooping is information rape: it takes something from a person that they might have offered willingly without giving him/her a choice in the matter. It's not only violence, it's laziness, in the sense of not taking the time to cultivate a relationship where intimacies are shared as equals. So I think it's better to live with a little unsatisfied curiosity than to feed vampirically off someone else's emotional life.
What did you hear today?
3/19/2010
I saw a lack of capitalization
Context
I did New Staff Orientations for five new library employees today. Part of the orientation is filling out a time sheet on the computer and printing it out to be turned in to payroll. Two of the students typed their names on the paysheet in all lower-case letters.
Commentary
When I saw my students not capitalizing their names, I had three progressively softer reactions:
1) This is bad grammar.
2) This is inappropriate grammar; i.e. there are some circumstances where lower case is OK for names, like for e-mail addresses or if you're e.e. cummings, but this is not one of them.
3) This is a stylistic choice that makes no difference in this context. After all, it wasn't going to keep anybody from getting paid or anything.
I think the fact that #3 was definitely true but I still had reactions #1 and #2 says something about me. Ah well, I notice stuff; that's my job.
So since I do notice, I wonder what typing your name in lower-case says about the students in question. Specifically, is it really a stylistic choice, or does the person not know any better? Actually, that second choice could be divided in two: does the person not know names are traditionally capitalized in English grammar (Yeesh! I hope not!) or do they not know how to capitalize on a computer (still sad, but not as sad)? From an educational standpoint, the answers to these questions are important. Ignorance requires a remedy, but stylistic choices can be the start of a student-teacher dialog on different modes of expression.
I'm reminded of when I taught in a minority-dominated high school in the late 1980s. We used to agonize over whether some of what we were teaching was tantamount to expecting students to deny their native cultures. Over time, I came to believe that my job was to offer the kids the tools to make an informed choice: if they chose to adopt the values and habits of the dominant culture, their lives might be enriched in some ways and impoverished in others. Either way, they go in with their eyes open. Which is always a good idea.
What did you see today?
I did New Staff Orientations for five new library employees today. Part of the orientation is filling out a time sheet on the computer and printing it out to be turned in to payroll. Two of the students typed their names on the paysheet in all lower-case letters.
Commentary
When I saw my students not capitalizing their names, I had three progressively softer reactions:
1) This is bad grammar.
2) This is inappropriate grammar; i.e. there are some circumstances where lower case is OK for names, like for e-mail addresses or if you're e.e. cummings, but this is not one of them.
3) This is a stylistic choice that makes no difference in this context. After all, it wasn't going to keep anybody from getting paid or anything.
I think the fact that #3 was definitely true but I still had reactions #1 and #2 says something about me. Ah well, I notice stuff; that's my job.
So since I do notice, I wonder what typing your name in lower-case says about the students in question. Specifically, is it really a stylistic choice, or does the person not know any better? Actually, that second choice could be divided in two: does the person not know names are traditionally capitalized in English grammar (Yeesh! I hope not!) or do they not know how to capitalize on a computer (still sad, but not as sad)? From an educational standpoint, the answers to these questions are important. Ignorance requires a remedy, but stylistic choices can be the start of a student-teacher dialog on different modes of expression.
I'm reminded of when I taught in a minority-dominated high school in the late 1980s. We used to agonize over whether some of what we were teaching was tantamount to expecting students to deny their native cultures. Over time, I came to believe that my job was to offer the kids the tools to make an informed choice: if they chose to adopt the values and habits of the dominant culture, their lives might be enriched in some ways and impoverished in others. Either way, they go in with their eyes open. Which is always a good idea.
What did you see today?
3/06/2010
I heard a disparaging remark
Context
One of my flights back from the COSUGI conference lasted a little under three hours. During it, a baby on board screamed bloody murder at varying intervals. Once, he or she probably kept it up for a good ten minutes. At the end of the flight, a man in my row said, "Horrible flight!"
Commentary
I hate to fly. This may come as a surprise to members of my family because I used to love it, and I still do fly on a regular basis, but I hate it. Usually this hatred takes the form of mild anxiety, often for weeks before an anticipated trip, but it sometimes turns into full-blown panic while on the plane. All told, I prefer the train. So for me, "horrible flight" would either mean I cowered in terror all the way or the plane crashed at some point. I guess most people would agree that the latter would count as a horrible flight.
But I don't want to talk about how brave my seatmate was about flying or how tolerant I am of fussy children. I want to talk about what I think upsets both of us, which is the lack of control. Once I get on that plane, I can't control how it moves or whether it lands safely or not, and that makes me crazy. Under non-flying circumstances, one can usually deal with a screaming baby that's not your own by either walking away or trying to convince the parents to do so. On a plane, not so much.
So for both of us, perhaps the feeling of helplessness is upsetting. What's interesting is the difference in what makes us feel helpless. I've already spent too much time speculating about my seatmate's feelings, so I won't try and figure out why flying doesn't appear to bother him. I will say that generally, crying babies who aren't being abused by their parents don't bother me. In the situation on the plane, I wasn't helpless. I could have tuned the baby out or listened to iTunes on my laptop. What I actually did was feel sorry for the baby and the parents. It's just about impossible to explain to an infant what ear-popping is and how to handle it.
Which leads me to faith in general. I am a firm believer that God controls everything; that it's His world and we're just living in it. This does not, however, make me behave fatalistically. I believe every moment is an opportunity to decide whether we're going to try to participate in God's will, oppose it, or ignore it. I find I always do better when I try to participate. As I mentioned in an earlier post on patience, I find I do better when I spend less time on, "Why is God doing this?" and more on "Why does He want me around while He is?"
It's a good theory; I certainly don't always put it into practice. I often say, as Mother Teresa did, "I know God will not give me anything I can't handle. I just wish that He didn't trust me so much." On the other hand, as I was reminded when I read on this blog, I think sometimes God likes to remind us that it's not all about how well we handle things for ourselves. So I try to remember that too when I fly.
What did you hear today?
One of my flights back from the COSUGI conference lasted a little under three hours. During it, a baby on board screamed bloody murder at varying intervals. Once, he or she probably kept it up for a good ten minutes. At the end of the flight, a man in my row said, "Horrible flight!"
Commentary
I hate to fly. This may come as a surprise to members of my family because I used to love it, and I still do fly on a regular basis, but I hate it. Usually this hatred takes the form of mild anxiety, often for weeks before an anticipated trip, but it sometimes turns into full-blown panic while on the plane. All told, I prefer the train. So for me, "horrible flight" would either mean I cowered in terror all the way or the plane crashed at some point. I guess most people would agree that the latter would count as a horrible flight.
But I don't want to talk about how brave my seatmate was about flying or how tolerant I am of fussy children. I want to talk about what I think upsets both of us, which is the lack of control. Once I get on that plane, I can't control how it moves or whether it lands safely or not, and that makes me crazy. Under non-flying circumstances, one can usually deal with a screaming baby that's not your own by either walking away or trying to convince the parents to do so. On a plane, not so much.
So for both of us, perhaps the feeling of helplessness is upsetting. What's interesting is the difference in what makes us feel helpless. I've already spent too much time speculating about my seatmate's feelings, so I won't try and figure out why flying doesn't appear to bother him. I will say that generally, crying babies who aren't being abused by their parents don't bother me. In the situation on the plane, I wasn't helpless. I could have tuned the baby out or listened to iTunes on my laptop. What I actually did was feel sorry for the baby and the parents. It's just about impossible to explain to an infant what ear-popping is and how to handle it.
Which leads me to faith in general. I am a firm believer that God controls everything; that it's His world and we're just living in it. This does not, however, make me behave fatalistically. I believe every moment is an opportunity to decide whether we're going to try to participate in God's will, oppose it, or ignore it. I find I always do better when I try to participate. As I mentioned in an earlier post on patience, I find I do better when I spend less time on, "Why is God doing this?" and more on "Why does He want me around while He is?"
It's a good theory; I certainly don't always put it into practice. I often say, as Mother Teresa did, "I know God will not give me anything I can't handle. I just wish that He didn't trust me so much." On the other hand, as I was reminded when I read on this blog, I think sometimes God likes to remind us that it's not all about how well we handle things for ourselves. So I try to remember that too when I fly.
What did you hear today?
3/03/2010
I saw a Twitter hashtag
Context
In our opening session at the COSUGI conference today, one of our speakers put up a PowerPoint slide we were encouraging us to Twitter about happenings at the conference under the #cosugi10 hashtag.
Commentary
More conference inspiration!
I don't use Twitter. I've never understood why people who weren't standing next to me would be interested in a random short things I might have to say. Random long things, sure, that's why I have a blog. But I think the short form just lends itself to less consideration.
In fact, as soon as they started talking about the hashtag in my session, I thought of two things I could tweet and they were both unkind. As such, I would have no desire for them to be attached to my name for any period of time after I'd uttered them. And I've learned the lesson many kids haven't: any information you post on the internet could come back to haunt you later.
But what if I expanded this notion? What if I started behaving like anything I said, even just to my closest friends, could come back to haunt me later? After all, God is surely going to hear and remember it. Is that why James puts so much emphasis on controlling our tongues? Maybe the next version of the Bible should say something about tweets as well.
What did you see today?
In our opening session at the COSUGI conference today, one of our speakers put up a PowerPoint slide we were encouraging us to Twitter about happenings at the conference under the #cosugi10 hashtag.
Commentary
More conference inspiration!
I don't use Twitter. I've never understood why people who weren't standing next to me would be interested in a random short things I might have to say. Random long things, sure, that's why I have a blog. But I think the short form just lends itself to less consideration.
In fact, as soon as they started talking about the hashtag in my session, I thought of two things I could tweet and they were both unkind. As such, I would have no desire for them to be attached to my name for any period of time after I'd uttered them. And I've learned the lesson many kids haven't: any information you post on the internet could come back to haunt you later.
But what if I expanded this notion? What if I started behaving like anything I said, even just to my closest friends, could come back to haunt me later? After all, God is surely going to hear and remember it. Is that why James puts so much emphasis on controlling our tongues? Maybe the next version of the Bible should say something about tweets as well.
What did you see today?
3/02/2010
I heard about an exclusive service
Context
I’m attending a class just prior to the COSUGI conference this week. It’s the same conference as this post and this one, and even this one referred to, but they’ve changed the name of it to accommodate a merger of two vendors. This year’s conference is at Disney’s Coronado Springs Resort, where it's hard to get off the grounds of the resort itself on foot. If you want to go to Disney attractions the resort provides a free bus, but all of us in the class have found it difficult/expensive to go anywhere non-Disney related. Today I went exploring and found a Lynx stop in the “cast member” (that’s what Disney calls staff) parking lot. When I went to the concierge desk to ask for a route map for Lynx, they told me that stop is for cast members only.
Commentary
I try to stick to "just the facts" in the Context section, so now I'm going to add some emotion.
1) I mentioned that we were finding it difficult to travel to non-Disney destinations. I didn't mention that we've been here for five days and we're desperate to get off the reservation!
2) The people at the concierge desk were genuinely perplexed by my desire to ride a public bus. I, in turn, was astonished that Disney asserts enough power in Orlando that they can reserve a bus stop (probably several bus stops) for their employees only.
I'm also a little curious about what would happen if I attempted to board a bus at the "cast members only" stop. Disney prides itself on customer service, after all. On the other hand, and I mean this as a compliment, cast members at this resort have proven remarkably gifted at saying "no" while still smiling brightly. I'm still annoyed by the exclusivity of the service, though, and not just because I'm being thwarted in my plans.
I think it's also because of the message the hotel seems to be sending. One of the reasons my classmates and I want to go someplace "normal" is that Walt Disney World is unrelentingly entertainment-oriented. This is, of course, not surprising, but it can be a little wearying. Even my incredibly nice husband is concerned that he may go off on the next phone operator who wishes him a "magical evening."
This attitude may be particularly grating for me because when I go to a work conference I go to, um, work, not play. (OK, I blog, but sometimes that feels like work!) I'm not trying to sound goody-goody; I'm just a person who does not generally mix business with pleasure. I don't go to theme parks when I supposed to be attending a conference and I don't usually check e-mail when I'm on vacation.
What's interesting is I think the administration at Disney understands this work/play separation very well. That's why the public bus stop, where mundane things like commuting to and fro a job happen, is hidden a good ways away from the magical guest areas.
What did you hear today
I’m attending a class just prior to the COSUGI conference this week. It’s the same conference as this post and this one, and even this one referred to, but they’ve changed the name of it to accommodate a merger of two vendors. This year’s conference is at Disney’s Coronado Springs Resort, where it's hard to get off the grounds of the resort itself on foot. If you want to go to Disney attractions the resort provides a free bus, but all of us in the class have found it difficult/expensive to go anywhere non-Disney related. Today I went exploring and found a Lynx stop in the “cast member” (that’s what Disney calls staff) parking lot. When I went to the concierge desk to ask for a route map for Lynx, they told me that stop is for cast members only.
Commentary
I try to stick to "just the facts" in the Context section, so now I'm going to add some emotion.
1) I mentioned that we were finding it difficult to travel to non-Disney destinations. I didn't mention that we've been here for five days and we're desperate to get off the reservation!
2) The people at the concierge desk were genuinely perplexed by my desire to ride a public bus. I, in turn, was astonished that Disney asserts enough power in Orlando that they can reserve a bus stop (probably several bus stops) for their employees only.
I'm also a little curious about what would happen if I attempted to board a bus at the "cast members only" stop. Disney prides itself on customer service, after all. On the other hand, and I mean this as a compliment, cast members at this resort have proven remarkably gifted at saying "no" while still smiling brightly. I'm still annoyed by the exclusivity of the service, though, and not just because I'm being thwarted in my plans.
I think it's also because of the message the hotel seems to be sending. One of the reasons my classmates and I want to go someplace "normal" is that Walt Disney World is unrelentingly entertainment-oriented. This is, of course, not surprising, but it can be a little wearying. Even my incredibly nice husband is concerned that he may go off on the next phone operator who wishes him a "magical evening."
This attitude may be particularly grating for me because when I go to a work conference I go to, um, work, not play. (OK, I blog, but sometimes that feels like work!) I'm not trying to sound goody-goody; I'm just a person who does not generally mix business with pleasure. I don't go to theme parks when I supposed to be attending a conference and I don't usually check e-mail when I'm on vacation.
What's interesting is I think the administration at Disney understands this work/play separation very well. That's why the public bus stop, where mundane things like commuting to and fro a job happen, is hidden a good ways away from the magical guest areas.
What did you hear today
2/18/2010
I heard an invitation to a town hall meeting
Context
I answered the phone this afternoon and received a prerecorded invitation from my senator, David Vitter, to attend a town hall meeting. I cannot repeat it verbatim, but it went along the lines of, "I want to invite you to a town hall meeting to discuss important economic issues, including creating high-quality jobs for Louisiana, ending federal bailouts and cutting rampant federal spending . . . " At this point I hung up.
Commentary
Am I being unrealistically nostalgic, or didn't there use to be a time when "town hall" meant "Let's talk about issues and see how we want to resolve them," as opposed to "I already know the solution, I just want to get everyone together and tell them what it is"?
I'm not trying to be difficult. I recognize that I'm a liberal and Sen. Vitter is a Republican, so it's not necessarily realistic to expect that we will share political opinions in common. Moreover, he won the election so he has some assurance that the majority of Louisiana voters agree with his stand. So I have no problem with the idea that he's already made up his mind. It's the pretending that he's trying to get constituents together to gather feedback that bothers me.
What Senator Vitter is proposing is a rally, not a town hall meeting. He is up for reelection this year, so it's perfectly reasonable for him to have a rally to whip up support. But there's no need for him to invite me.
What did you hear today?
I answered the phone this afternoon and received a prerecorded invitation from my senator, David Vitter, to attend a town hall meeting. I cannot repeat it verbatim, but it went along the lines of, "I want to invite you to a town hall meeting to discuss important economic issues, including creating high-quality jobs for Louisiana, ending federal bailouts and cutting rampant federal spending . . . " At this point I hung up.
Commentary
Am I being unrealistically nostalgic, or didn't there use to be a time when "town hall" meant "Let's talk about issues and see how we want to resolve them," as opposed to "I already know the solution, I just want to get everyone together and tell them what it is"?
I'm not trying to be difficult. I recognize that I'm a liberal and Sen. Vitter is a Republican, so it's not necessarily realistic to expect that we will share political opinions in common. Moreover, he won the election so he has some assurance that the majority of Louisiana voters agree with his stand. So I have no problem with the idea that he's already made up his mind. It's the pretending that he's trying to get constituents together to gather feedback that bothers me.
What Senator Vitter is proposing is a rally, not a town hall meeting. He is up for reelection this year, so it's perfectly reasonable for him to have a rally to whip up support. But there's no need for him to invite me.
What did you hear today?
2/04/2010
I saw an irate message
Context
A few days ago I received a call from a library patron who was puzzled because she couldn't use our Overdrive service. After investigation, I let her know that was because she held a Green Gold card. These cards are issued to patrons whose home library is in a parish near ours and allow the bearer access to our physical resources, but not our electronic ones.
The patron was dismayed by this for two reasons:
1) The Overdrive service was the only reason she had applied for the card, so she could have saved herself a trip from Minden to Shreveport.
2) Her friend had applied for the same reason, and she wasn't being blocked.
I apologized for our mistake in not explaining the Green Gold restrictions better and, trying to cover all bases, asked the patron if she wanted to rat out her friend so I could block her. The patron said, "No." The next day I received a message from a fellow staff member letting me know who the "friend" was. I had not solicited this information, but I used it to go ahead and block the second woman.
Today this e-mail the friend's husband sent the message to the "support" link on the Overdrive website. Messages sent to this link go to an account that everyone in our department reads.
"Well it seems the rumor is true. We heard that even with the Green Card and a membership in the Shreve Library, we were going to be cut off. You see we live in Minden, and made 2 trips to the Shreve Library with the intent of joining to be able to download E-Books. This was addressed up front and approved and now we are shut off. I am really disappointed. You see we spend probably more money in Shreveport than we do in Minden so its not like we don't support your city. I served 20 years in the Air Force and I don't recall saying I would not help if Shreveport was bombed or in some sort of trouble. I served my country including Shreveport. If us checking out an E-Book puts your system in that much of a bind then God have mercy on your city. Its all about greed from the man on the street to the Mayor and President. Thank goodness I don't live and die for your perfect city. Oh yes, card #[redacted] is the account and good luck on your greed."
Commentary
I could of course make many, many comments about the e-mail message above, and I'd be lying if I said we didn't pass the message around and make several of those remarks this morning, to general hilarity.
However, I'm more interested in talking about my immediate response when I saw the message. I started thinking of several replies I wanted to make to the patron and I could feel my pulse racing right along with my brain. In other words, a fight or flight response (as is customary for me, I was leaning toward "fight").
This was irrational. First of all, I'm a religious pacifist (yes, I'm reusing links from previous entries, cope!). Also, under no conceivable set of circumstances was I facing a threat. Truthfully, the circumstances should have provoked no other response but laughter and pity, but there it is. I didn't behave violently, but my body wanted to. My pacifist principles only go so far; they don't completely change my makeup. In fact, the Bible says my subsequent snarkiness does constitute violence.
Where does that leave me? Mindful of how wrong my immediate reaction to a situation can be, for one thing. Glad to be a Christian for another. I can say, along with the apostle Paul, that the good I would do, I do not do (another version here). Some people may think of this as a cop-out; I think it's just a realistic assessment of how badly we need the grace and love of our Father.
What did you see today?
A few days ago I received a call from a library patron who was puzzled because she couldn't use our Overdrive service. After investigation, I let her know that was because she held a Green Gold card. These cards are issued to patrons whose home library is in a parish near ours and allow the bearer access to our physical resources, but not our electronic ones.
The patron was dismayed by this for two reasons:
1) The Overdrive service was the only reason she had applied for the card, so she could have saved herself a trip from Minden to Shreveport.
2) Her friend had applied for the same reason, and she wasn't being blocked.
I apologized for our mistake in not explaining the Green Gold restrictions better and, trying to cover all bases, asked the patron if she wanted to rat out her friend so I could block her. The patron said, "No." The next day I received a message from a fellow staff member letting me know who the "friend" was. I had not solicited this information, but I used it to go ahead and block the second woman.
Today this e-mail the friend's husband sent the message to the "support" link on the Overdrive website. Messages sent to this link go to an account that everyone in our department reads.
"Well it seems the rumor is true. We heard that even with the Green Card and a membership in the Shreve Library, we were going to be cut off. You see we live in Minden, and made 2 trips to the Shreve Library with the intent of joining to be able to download E-Books. This was addressed up front and approved and now we are shut off. I am really disappointed. You see we spend probably more money in Shreveport than we do in Minden so its not like we don't support your city. I served 20 years in the Air Force and I don't recall saying I would not help if Shreveport was bombed or in some sort of trouble. I served my country including Shreveport. If us checking out an E-Book puts your system in that much of a bind then God have mercy on your city. Its all about greed from the man on the street to the Mayor and President. Thank goodness I don't live and die for your perfect city. Oh yes, card #[redacted] is the account and good luck on your greed."
Commentary
I could of course make many, many comments about the e-mail message above, and I'd be lying if I said we didn't pass the message around and make several of those remarks this morning, to general hilarity.
However, I'm more interested in talking about my immediate response when I saw the message. I started thinking of several replies I wanted to make to the patron and I could feel my pulse racing right along with my brain. In other words, a fight or flight response (as is customary for me, I was leaning toward "fight").
This was irrational. First of all, I'm a religious pacifist (yes, I'm reusing links from previous entries, cope!). Also, under no conceivable set of circumstances was I facing a threat. Truthfully, the circumstances should have provoked no other response but laughter and pity, but there it is. I didn't behave violently, but my body wanted to. My pacifist principles only go so far; they don't completely change my makeup. In fact, the Bible says my subsequent snarkiness does constitute violence.
Where does that leave me? Mindful of how wrong my immediate reaction to a situation can be, for one thing. Glad to be a Christian for another. I can say, along with the apostle Paul, that the good I would do, I do not do (another version here). Some people may think of this as a cop-out; I think it's just a realistic assessment of how badly we need the grace and love of our Father.
What did you see today?
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