Context
One of ads on the Thanksgiving Day Classic was for the Visa card Super Bowl ticket giveaway. In the ad, they say the Super Bowl is the most epic day in America. My husband Mark said, "No it's not; that's Election Day."
Commentary
Well, Mark said it all, but it's my blog, so I'll just add this: every four years we agree to govern ourselves instead of being governed. Frequently on these occasions, a new party comes into power and no guns are fired, except in what I consider a bizarre form of celebration. This has gone on for over 230 years. If that's not worth giving thanks for, I don't know what is.
What did you hear today?
11/07/2011
I saw a writer's bio
Context
I was looking for more information about the criminal charges filed against a former Penn State football coach. That search led me to this article, which has the following printed at the top as the author's bio:
Jason Whitlock writes about the sports world from every angle, including those other writers can't imagine or muster courage to address. His columns are humorous, thought-provoking, agenda-free, honest and unpredictable.
Commentary
My first question is, have we become so enamored of the idea of personal branding that we think "bio" means "advertisement?" I think of a bio as being something that tells you where a person comes from, perhaps even what he's accomplished up to now, not a description of how awesome he is at present.
Or maybe someone thought it counted as a bio because it's written in the third person. Cynically, I think it was written by Whitlock himself, but I have no evidence one way or the other, because it's not attributed. This, of course, does not help its credibility. Even quote whores put their names on their opinions. By the way, the person at the top of that quote whore list in the link above works for the same parent company as Jason Whitlock, but I digress.
If you're getting the impression I don't believe anything in the "bio," you're correct. I know it's narrow-mindedness on my part, but after reading the bio, I pretty much wrote Whitlock off as a blowhard. Which is kind of sad, because the bio appeared before the article, so his writing didn't even get to speak for itself.
On the other hand, that may have been the bio's author's intent. It seems to me that if you have to say a writer is courageous, insightful and funny before allowing someone to read his work, you're somewhat afraid the reader won't come to those conclusions on her own.
What did you see today?
I was looking for more information about the criminal charges filed against a former Penn State football coach. That search led me to this article, which has the following printed at the top as the author's bio:
Jason Whitlock writes about the sports world from every angle, including those other writers can't imagine or muster courage to address. His columns are humorous, thought-provoking, agenda-free, honest and unpredictable.
Commentary
My first question is, have we become so enamored of the idea of personal branding that we think "bio" means "advertisement?" I think of a bio as being something that tells you where a person comes from, perhaps even what he's accomplished up to now, not a description of how awesome he is at present.
Or maybe someone thought it counted as a bio because it's written in the third person. Cynically, I think it was written by Whitlock himself, but I have no evidence one way or the other, because it's not attributed. This, of course, does not help its credibility. Even quote whores put their names on their opinions. By the way, the person at the top of that quote whore list in the link above works for the same parent company as Jason Whitlock, but I digress.
If you're getting the impression I don't believe anything in the "bio," you're correct. I know it's narrow-mindedness on my part, but after reading the bio, I pretty much wrote Whitlock off as a blowhard. Which is kind of sad, because the bio appeared before the article, so his writing didn't even get to speak for itself.
On the other hand, that may have been the bio's author's intent. It seems to me that if you have to say a writer is courageous, insightful and funny before allowing someone to read his work, you're somewhat afraid the reader won't come to those conclusions on her own.
What did you see today?
10/26/2011
I saw a billboard
Context
On my way to work this morning I saw a Lamar billboard with a Christmas theme. Today is October 26th.
Commentary
This billboard bothered me for two reasons. One pertains to what Gregg Easterbrook, author of the wonderful Tuesday Morning Quarterback column for ESPN, calls "Christmas Creep." This is the habit commercial enterprises have of trying to jump start the Christmas season earlier and earlier each year.
I myself refuse to be taken in. During October I celebrate Halloween. The next day I start thinking about Thanksgiving, and only when the last NFL game is completed on that day will I contemplate Christmas. Every holiday deserves its due and I will not have them running over each other!
Quick digression: people often ask me if I'm ready for Christmas. Only if I know them really well do I say what immediately comes to mind: "Ready for the birth of the Savior? Oh, yes!"
The other thing I didn't like about the billboard is that it was a billboard for a billboard company. I understand that everyone feels the need to advertise in order to drum up business, but if Lamar couldn't find anyone interested in using that particular space, why not just take the billboard down? It's not like there aren't 30,000 more of them out there.
What did you see today?
On my way to work this morning I saw a Lamar billboard with a Christmas theme. Today is October 26th.
Commentary
This billboard bothered me for two reasons. One pertains to what Gregg Easterbrook, author of the wonderful Tuesday Morning Quarterback column for ESPN, calls "Christmas Creep." This is the habit commercial enterprises have of trying to jump start the Christmas season earlier and earlier each year.
I myself refuse to be taken in. During October I celebrate Halloween. The next day I start thinking about Thanksgiving, and only when the last NFL game is completed on that day will I contemplate Christmas. Every holiday deserves its due and I will not have them running over each other!
Quick digression: people often ask me if I'm ready for Christmas. Only if I know them really well do I say what immediately comes to mind: "Ready for the birth of the Savior? Oh, yes!"
The other thing I didn't like about the billboard is that it was a billboard for a billboard company. I understand that everyone feels the need to advertise in order to drum up business, but if Lamar couldn't find anyone interested in using that particular space, why not just take the billboard down? It's not like there aren't 30,000 more of them out there.
What did you see today?
10/25/2011
I saw the second response to a change
Context
I am the system administrator for the integrated library system at my workplace, which is what we use to electronically catalog and circulate items, as well as keep track of patron records. Our vendor for this product is SirsiDynix. Over the years, SirsiDynix has tried to foster a user community by maintaining listservs for individual pieces of their software.
SirsiDynix recently announced the creation a bunch of new listservs, because they've expanded their product line in several new directions. This caused an outcry among users, who wrote to the system administrators listserv (because it is our main method of communication outside of conferences) saying they couldn't possibly keep up with so many new lists and there should be more consolidation. Today, another set of voices emerged talking about the advantages of keeping separated lists for separate products and giving tips to the first group about managing e-mail. I cannot link to any of this correspondence, as these discussions are considered proprietary to SirsiDynix.
Commentary
When the aforementioned people got upset about the new listservs I thought, "Really? Is it that bad?", and waited for cooler heads to prevail. In my opinion, they did; there hasn't been any more back and forth on this issue; just "Oh, this is awful!" then, "No, it isn't; here's why:" and nothing further.
I've noticed this a lot lately. When new information appears, there seem to be two sets of people: reactors, who say the first thing that comes to their heads, often proved hyperbolic or downright erroneous later, and analyzers, who look at what the reactors say and come up with a reasoned response. I'd like to say that the analyzers are the only ones doing anything useful, but looking at the dynamic, I'm not sure that's true. The analyzers need the reactors, because otherwise they won't say anything.
Here's an example: an analyzer might look at the Occupy Wall Street protesters and say, "This is a group of people that is displeased about the direction the country is going; they're not terribly organized, but they seem OK with that; they're generally harmless." The thing is, I never heard anyone say those things about OWS until after I heard people say the protest was going to change everything, the revolution was underway, and the end of the world was at hand. I think analyzers think their well-reasoned viewpoint is the prevailing one, so they don't bother to say anything until the reactors have proved them wrong.
Well, not proved them wrong, exactly. I don't think reactors are more numerous than analyzers, just louder and more obvious at the beginning of a timeline. In fact, I think many reactors turn into analyzers over time. I know I do; my first response to information may be spontaneous and visceral, but after a while I often come to see and express a viewpoint that is more considered and transcendant. I don't think either response is correct per se; there seems to be a yinyang quality at work here that is worth preserving.
What did you see today?
I am the system administrator for the integrated library system at my workplace, which is what we use to electronically catalog and circulate items, as well as keep track of patron records. Our vendor for this product is SirsiDynix. Over the years, SirsiDynix has tried to foster a user community by maintaining listservs for individual pieces of their software.
SirsiDynix recently announced the creation a bunch of new listservs, because they've expanded their product line in several new directions. This caused an outcry among users, who wrote to the system administrators listserv (because it is our main method of communication outside of conferences) saying they couldn't possibly keep up with so many new lists and there should be more consolidation. Today, another set of voices emerged talking about the advantages of keeping separated lists for separate products and giving tips to the first group about managing e-mail. I cannot link to any of this correspondence, as these discussions are considered proprietary to SirsiDynix.
Commentary
When the aforementioned people got upset about the new listservs I thought, "Really? Is it that bad?", and waited for cooler heads to prevail. In my opinion, they did; there hasn't been any more back and forth on this issue; just "Oh, this is awful!" then, "No, it isn't; here's why:" and nothing further.
I've noticed this a lot lately. When new information appears, there seem to be two sets of people: reactors, who say the first thing that comes to their heads, often proved hyperbolic or downright erroneous later, and analyzers, who look at what the reactors say and come up with a reasoned response. I'd like to say that the analyzers are the only ones doing anything useful, but looking at the dynamic, I'm not sure that's true. The analyzers need the reactors, because otherwise they won't say anything.
Here's an example: an analyzer might look at the Occupy Wall Street protesters and say, "This is a group of people that is displeased about the direction the country is going; they're not terribly organized, but they seem OK with that; they're generally harmless." The thing is, I never heard anyone say those things about OWS until after I heard people say the protest was going to change everything, the revolution was underway, and the end of the world was at hand. I think analyzers think their well-reasoned viewpoint is the prevailing one, so they don't bother to say anything until the reactors have proved them wrong.
Well, not proved them wrong, exactly. I don't think reactors are more numerous than analyzers, just louder and more obvious at the beginning of a timeline. In fact, I think many reactors turn into analyzers over time. I know I do; my first response to information may be spontaneous and visceral, but after a while I often come to see and express a viewpoint that is more considered and transcendant. I don't think either response is correct per se; there seems to be a yinyang quality at work here that is worth preserving.
What did you see today?
9/22/2011
I saw a consultant set up a losing situation
Context
I work as a volunteer for the ombudsman's program at the Caddo Council on Aging, so today I'm attending a workshop on the validation method of communicating with the disoriented elderly, led by Naomi Feil. Early in the day, she role-played an old woman who was disoriented and nonverbal and asked a volunteer from the audience how she would deal with the situation. No matter what the volunteer did, Feil acted more and more upset.
Commentary
I've seen the situation I described above before, and in fact, I was the victim one time. The consultant in question told me she would be playacting the part of a child, and it was my job to get her dressed to go to the doctor. When every tactic I tried failed, she said I shouldn't have been trying to get her dressed, I should have focused on the ultimate goal of getting me to the doctor. There's a phrase we use to describe this in the education community: it's called "changing the prompt."
Feil didn't change the prompt, but I'm pretty cynical about whether there was anything her volunteer could have done that would have elicited a positive response from the elderly character. I wonder if this is a common technique consultants use to prove their worth, i.e. "You couldn't possibly get out of this kind of predicament yourself; it's a good thing you hired me."
I guess this phenomenoncaptured my interest because I never teach this way. I'm always looking for a way for students to succeed, not fail, and even wfhen they give answers thaf are very far from what I'm expecting, I try to understand their thinking and fit it into the current situation. In Feil's case I found the "setting up to fail" particularly ironic, since the main theme of validation communication is empathizing with older people, being where they're at.
I work as a volunteer for the ombudsman's program at the Caddo Council on Aging, so today I'm attending a workshop on the validation method of communicating with the disoriented elderly, led by Naomi Feil. Early in the day, she role-played an old woman who was disoriented and nonverbal and asked a volunteer from the audience how she would deal with the situation. No matter what the volunteer did, Feil acted more and more upset.
Commentary
I've seen the situation I described above before, and in fact, I was the victim one time. The consultant in question told me she would be playacting the part of a child, and it was my job to get her dressed to go to the doctor. When every tactic I tried failed, she said I shouldn't have been trying to get her dressed, I should have focused on the ultimate goal of getting me to the doctor. There's a phrase we use to describe this in the education community: it's called "changing the prompt."
Feil didn't change the prompt, but I'm pretty cynical about whether there was anything her volunteer could have done that would have elicited a positive response from the elderly character. I wonder if this is a common technique consultants use to prove their worth, i.e. "You couldn't possibly get out of this kind of predicament yourself; it's a good thing you hired me."
I guess this phenomenoncaptured my interest because I never teach this way. I'm always looking for a way for students to succeed, not fail, and even wfhen they give answers thaf are very far from what I'm expecting, I try to understand their thinking and fit it into the current situation. In Feil's case I found the "setting up to fail" particularly ironic, since the main theme of validation communication is empathizing with older people, being where they're at.
7/28/2011
I saw my husband groom my dog
Context
My husband and I have a golden retriever named Claudia. She is the first long-haired dog we've ever had, and she requires a great deal of grooming, particularly during the summer. This evening as we walked in the house after my husband picked me up from work, I teased Claudia for looking tatty. It was my intention to groom her after I had completed a couple of coming home tasks, but my husband started on her before I had the chance.
Commentary
Analogs to the situation described above happen in my married life all the time: I call attention to a problem and my husband will fix it. I often feel guilty and lazy and a little overbearing at the time, like I'm willing to criticize a situation, but not stepping up to do anything about it. On the other hand, my husband says that one of things he appreciates about me is that I notice stuff he's oblivious to, so apparently I'm pretty good at this opening my eyes and opening my mouth stuff.
I suppose that means I should consider my power of observation a gift, but there's a fine line between calling attention to something that could be done and ordering people around, and I don't want to be on the wrong side of it. Especially since another one of my gifts (or personality flaws, depending on your perspective) is that I really hate it when people tell me what to do.
Of course, if I'm being called in some circumstances to do the thing that drives me up the wall when other people do it, it will certainly help me learn tolerance, won't it? So that's a gift too, if not necessarily a welcome one.
What did you see today?
My husband and I have a golden retriever named Claudia. She is the first long-haired dog we've ever had, and she requires a great deal of grooming, particularly during the summer. This evening as we walked in the house after my husband picked me up from work, I teased Claudia for looking tatty. It was my intention to groom her after I had completed a couple of coming home tasks, but my husband started on her before I had the chance.
Commentary
Analogs to the situation described above happen in my married life all the time: I call attention to a problem and my husband will fix it. I often feel guilty and lazy and a little overbearing at the time, like I'm willing to criticize a situation, but not stepping up to do anything about it. On the other hand, my husband says that one of things he appreciates about me is that I notice stuff he's oblivious to, so apparently I'm pretty good at this opening my eyes and opening my mouth stuff.
I suppose that means I should consider my power of observation a gift, but there's a fine line between calling attention to something that could be done and ordering people around, and I don't want to be on the wrong side of it. Especially since another one of my gifts (or personality flaws, depending on your perspective) is that I really hate it when people tell me what to do.
Of course, if I'm being called in some circumstances to do the thing that drives me up the wall when other people do it, it will certainly help me learn tolerance, won't it? So that's a gift too, if not necessarily a welcome one.
What did you see today?
7/24/2011
I heard the Apostles' Creed
Context
I'm in Houston today, so per my usual custom, I went to worship at Christ the King Lutheran church. I used to be a Lutheran and this is the church I got married in. Lutherans always say a creed at some point during any communion service; today it was the Apostles' Creed. Quakers, on the other hand, are very non-creedal.
Commentary
I think the main reason Quakers are non-creedal is because of the feeling that creeds create an exclusive atmosphere. We're concerned that we would be saying, in essence, "If you don't believe this, you don't belong here."
Lately, when we talk about beliefs at my Quaker meeting, I feel like Friends are saying something beyond just: "We shouldn't have a set creed as a group." We seem to have moved on to: "We shouldn't have any strongly held religious beliefs as individuals, either." This perspective says our beliefs are so often proved spirit-killing and wrong that it is a bad idea to hold them at all. Better to just have faith in God in general and not be married to specific theological ideas.
As I was speaking the Apostles' Creed today, I realized I don't agree. For one thing, I actually believe everything in the Apostles' Creed. I don't think that gives me exclusive access to God, but I'm not going to pretend I don't believe those words just to make others feel comfortable.
Moreover, I don't think I can have faith in God without believing certain things. Here are four that seem pretty bedrock to me:
1) I believe that God is powerful.
2) I believe that the things I see constitute the work of God.
3) I believe that God has suffered.
4) I believe that God will ultimately bring justice to our exceedingly evil world.
Without these beliefs, having faith in God seems pointless to me. At its most primitive level, my trust is predicated on an expected outcome: the redemption of the world. If I believed that the march of history was just going to continue on its current path, I would commit ritual suicide. If I didn't care one way or the other, I wouldn't bother trying to learn about God and serve Him.
What's funny about the current discussion of beliefs in our meeting is that one of the ways we encourage people to discern whether Quakerism would be a good fit for them is to take this quiz at beliefnet.com. Unsurprisingly, most of the questions are about one's beliefs.
What did you hear today?
I'm in Houston today, so per my usual custom, I went to worship at Christ the King Lutheran church. I used to be a Lutheran and this is the church I got married in. Lutherans always say a creed at some point during any communion service; today it was the Apostles' Creed. Quakers, on the other hand, are very non-creedal.
Commentary
I think the main reason Quakers are non-creedal is because of the feeling that creeds create an exclusive atmosphere. We're concerned that we would be saying, in essence, "If you don't believe this, you don't belong here."
Lately, when we talk about beliefs at my Quaker meeting, I feel like Friends are saying something beyond just: "We shouldn't have a set creed as a group." We seem to have moved on to: "We shouldn't have any strongly held religious beliefs as individuals, either." This perspective says our beliefs are so often proved spirit-killing and wrong that it is a bad idea to hold them at all. Better to just have faith in God in general and not be married to specific theological ideas.
As I was speaking the Apostles' Creed today, I realized I don't agree. For one thing, I actually believe everything in the Apostles' Creed. I don't think that gives me exclusive access to God, but I'm not going to pretend I don't believe those words just to make others feel comfortable.
Moreover, I don't think I can have faith in God without believing certain things. Here are four that seem pretty bedrock to me:
1) I believe that God is powerful.
2) I believe that the things I see constitute the work of God.
3) I believe that God has suffered.
4) I believe that God will ultimately bring justice to our exceedingly evil world.
Without these beliefs, having faith in God seems pointless to me. At its most primitive level, my trust is predicated on an expected outcome: the redemption of the world. If I believed that the march of history was just going to continue on its current path, I would commit ritual suicide. If I didn't care one way or the other, I wouldn't bother trying to learn about God and serve Him.
What's funny about the current discussion of beliefs in our meeting is that one of the ways we encourage people to discern whether Quakerism would be a good fit for them is to take this quiz at beliefnet.com. Unsurprisingly, most of the questions are about one's beliefs.
What did you hear today?
6/17/2011
I saw a guy checking out a girl
Context
As I was leaving the library for lunch today, a woman came down in the elevator with me and a tweenish girl who appeared to be her daughter. The younger lady was wearing the tiny shorts that are in vogue these days. As we stepped out into the alley behind the library, a gentleman in his twenties or thirties gave the girl a once-over.
Commentary
I thought the gentleman's scrutiny of the young lady was inappropriate for a couple of reasons: she was much younger than him and, as I said, probably walking with her mother. The fact that he was checking out a stranger also came to mind, but realistically, that happens all the time. Driving While Black is the term we use for unwarranted traffic stops based on the color of one's skin; perhaps I'll coin the term Walking While Female to describe the "She's on the street, therefore she's on display for my enjoyment" mentality.
Which brings me to the shorts. Is it the case that someone wearing short shorts is deliberately putting herself on display? Possibly not, because sometimes clothing that happens to be good-looking also happens to be comfortable, functional, and/or mandatory.
On the other hand, it would be silly for me to say ladies young and old don't ever try to attract male attention with their clothing. For myself, I can think of five different things I'm trying/have tried to say by wearing attractive clothing, "attractive" here being defined as smart, stylish, sexy, or some combination of those.
1) "I'm single and looking. If you're a sufficiently attractive, interesting and well-mannered guy, you're welcome to make a romantic or sexual pitch in my direction."
2) "I feel ugly (or some other kind of 'bad') today. You're welcome to pay some attention to me, as it may raise my self-esteem, but I'm not interesting in starting anything."
3) "I feel pretty (or some other kind of 'good') today. If you want to look at me and share in my general positive mood, yay! Anything beyond a look and a smile will be presumptuous, though."
4) "I'm with my husband and I'm dressed this way so he won't be embarrassed to be seen with me. You're welcome to appreciate his impeccable taste in women."
5) "I'm dressed this way FOR my husband. You're not welcome to participate at all."
Unfortunately, my actual clothing doesn't explicitly convey any of these messages, and it's probably not fair to expect guys to be able to discern the correct explanation in the amount of time it takes me to walk by them. However, I would state that it's equally unfair for a guy to assume any one of them, and refuse to give up that assumption when I make my intentions clear. I'm willing to count a little scrutiny as human nature. More than that without encouragement is just plain rude.
What did you see today?
As I was leaving the library for lunch today, a woman came down in the elevator with me and a tweenish girl who appeared to be her daughter. The younger lady was wearing the tiny shorts that are in vogue these days. As we stepped out into the alley behind the library, a gentleman in his twenties or thirties gave the girl a once-over.
Commentary
I thought the gentleman's scrutiny of the young lady was inappropriate for a couple of reasons: she was much younger than him and, as I said, probably walking with her mother. The fact that he was checking out a stranger also came to mind, but realistically, that happens all the time. Driving While Black is the term we use for unwarranted traffic stops based on the color of one's skin; perhaps I'll coin the term Walking While Female to describe the "She's on the street, therefore she's on display for my enjoyment" mentality.
Which brings me to the shorts. Is it the case that someone wearing short shorts is deliberately putting herself on display? Possibly not, because sometimes clothing that happens to be good-looking also happens to be comfortable, functional, and/or mandatory.
On the other hand, it would be silly for me to say ladies young and old don't ever try to attract male attention with their clothing. For myself, I can think of five different things I'm trying/have tried to say by wearing attractive clothing, "attractive" here being defined as smart, stylish, sexy, or some combination of those.
1) "I'm single and looking. If you're a sufficiently attractive, interesting and well-mannered guy, you're welcome to make a romantic or sexual pitch in my direction."
2) "I feel ugly (or some other kind of 'bad') today. You're welcome to pay some attention to me, as it may raise my self-esteem, but I'm not interesting in starting anything."
3) "I feel pretty (or some other kind of 'good') today. If you want to look at me and share in my general positive mood, yay! Anything beyond a look and a smile will be presumptuous, though."
4) "I'm with my husband and I'm dressed this way so he won't be embarrassed to be seen with me. You're welcome to appreciate his impeccable taste in women."
5) "I'm dressed this way FOR my husband. You're not welcome to participate at all."
Unfortunately, my actual clothing doesn't explicitly convey any of these messages, and it's probably not fair to expect guys to be able to discern the correct explanation in the amount of time it takes me to walk by them. However, I would state that it's equally unfair for a guy to assume any one of them, and refuse to give up that assumption when I make my intentions clear. I'm willing to count a little scrutiny as human nature. More than that without encouragement is just plain rude.
What did you see today?
6/15/2011
I heard someone talk about complaints
Context
I'm a long term care visiting volunteer for the Caddo Council on Aging's Ombudsmen Program for nursing homes, so I get to hear a lot of residents' complaints about the facility I visit. Today, I had occasion to discuss these complaints with a staff member, and she expressed her belief that some people will always have something to complain about and will never be satisfied.
Commentary
I just have one quick thing to say about customer service: the fact that someone always has something to complain about doesn't eradicate our obligation to address the complaints.
What did you hear today?
I'm a long term care visiting volunteer for the Caddo Council on Aging's Ombudsmen Program for nursing homes, so I get to hear a lot of residents' complaints about the facility I visit. Today, I had occasion to discuss these complaints with a staff member, and she expressed her belief that some people will always have something to complain about and will never be satisfied.
Commentary
I just have one quick thing to say about customer service: the fact that someone always has something to complain about doesn't eradicate our obligation to address the complaints.
What did you hear today?
6/12/2011
I saw an editorial title
Context
I read an editorial today in The Shreveport Times on debit card swipe fees. It was entitled Elected Officials Should be on the People's Side and can be found here, at least for now. The Times appears to clean out their archive on a regular basis.
Commentary
So this debit card swipe issue that I've commented on before has some legs. I find this surprising, but maybe that's because although I use my debit card frequently, I never think of myself as being in the majority on any lifestyle issue.
I don't think we need to rehash the legislation again. Instead, I want to talk about the title of the piece: Elected Officials Should be on the People's Side. Since that's a sentiment I think we can all agree on, I have good news for you: elected officials are always on the people's side. It's just a matter of which people.
Well, it's a democracy, right? So they should be on the side of the majority of the people. Sounds reasonable, especially if you modify that to say "a majority of the voters," because that's who politicians need to please in order to keep being elected.
But majority rule is only part of the equation in American government. We also believe in minority rights. That's why I hate it when people say (and legislate as if) the U.S. is a Christian country. Yes, a majority of the adults here self-identify as Christians, but if we call it a Christian country, we're trampling over the rights of the minority of people who don't identify with that religion. Just say we're a country with a lot of Christians and I'll be perfectly happy.
OK then, can we agree, as our editorialist seems to be contending, that elected officials should be on the side of the most downtrodden people? Well, it might be nice, and certainly the Bible says the church should behave that way, but again, we're not a Christian country. Sometimes the government stands on the side of the most powerful people (cynics will say "most of the time") because supporting them is perceived to benefit the nation as a whole. You may think that's a bad idea, but I for one think we gained a lot more from NAFTA than we lost.
Now it's my turn to be cynical. I think when we say elected officials should be on the side of the people, we mean "people like us." I don't feel the need to comment on that (surprise, surprise!); I'm just positing the theory.
Please understand, I think the editorial mentioned above is well written and makes several good arguments, even though I don't hold precisely the same opinion as the person who wrote it. I just think the title is meaningless. We haven't come to the point where robots are taking over, so elected officials are always on the side of the some people somewhere.
What did you see today?
I read an editorial today in The Shreveport Times on debit card swipe fees. It was entitled Elected Officials Should be on the People's Side and can be found here, at least for now. The Times appears to clean out their archive on a regular basis.
Commentary
So this debit card swipe issue that I've commented on before has some legs. I find this surprising, but maybe that's because although I use my debit card frequently, I never think of myself as being in the majority on any lifestyle issue.
I don't think we need to rehash the legislation again. Instead, I want to talk about the title of the piece: Elected Officials Should be on the People's Side. Since that's a sentiment I think we can all agree on, I have good news for you: elected officials are always on the people's side. It's just a matter of which people.
Well, it's a democracy, right? So they should be on the side of the majority of the people. Sounds reasonable, especially if you modify that to say "a majority of the voters," because that's who politicians need to please in order to keep being elected.
But majority rule is only part of the equation in American government. We also believe in minority rights. That's why I hate it when people say (and legislate as if) the U.S. is a Christian country. Yes, a majority of the adults here self-identify as Christians, but if we call it a Christian country, we're trampling over the rights of the minority of people who don't identify with that religion. Just say we're a country with a lot of Christians and I'll be perfectly happy.
OK then, can we agree, as our editorialist seems to be contending, that elected officials should be on the side of the most downtrodden people? Well, it might be nice, and certainly the Bible says the church should behave that way, but again, we're not a Christian country. Sometimes the government stands on the side of the most powerful people (cynics will say "most of the time") because supporting them is perceived to benefit the nation as a whole. You may think that's a bad idea, but I for one think we gained a lot more from NAFTA than we lost.
Now it's my turn to be cynical. I think when we say elected officials should be on the side of the people, we mean "people like us." I don't feel the need to comment on that (surprise, surprise!); I'm just positing the theory.
Please understand, I think the editorial mentioned above is well written and makes several good arguments, even though I don't hold precisely the same opinion as the person who wrote it. I just think the title is meaningless. We haven't come to the point where robots are taking over, so elected officials are always on the side of the some people somewhere.
What did you see today?
6/10/2011
I saw a call for experts
Context
An e-mail list I subscribe to called HARO (what this stands for and more details here) is supported by ads. One of today's ads came from an internet media company. They were looking for experts in various fields to star in podcasts distributed to a number of their websites. I'm not providing a lot of detail because the terms of service on HARO say I can't reproduce the contents of the e-mails elsewhere without their express permission.
Commentary
One of the reasons I joined the HARO list is because they say something I believe: everyone is an expert on something. When I read the ad today, I thought, "I could provide an expert opinion on a couple of topics, like customer service or writing."
On the other hand, I don't have an expert's credentials in either of these fields. I'm interested in both and believe I have useful things to say, but does that make me a credible source? Maybe I'm just someone with an ax to grind and a fondness for hearing myself talk. OK, no "maybe" about that, but you get my point.
In fact, it's even hard to say if people who do have credentials are credible. I recently borrowed a book called Wrong: Why experts keep failing us - and how to know when not to trust them from the Jefferson Parish Library. Even though I haven't started it yet, I doubt it's lacking in examples of experts failing us.
So how does one know what to believe? I try to use a three-pronged approach:
1) What are the credentials behind the theory? Credentials are far from infallible, but for a starting point, I find the CDC more believable than an actress on the topic of vaccines. Also, credentials imply commitment to me, someone who considered the subject important enough to jump through what may seem like meaningless hoops to the rest of the world because he/she really wanted to arrive at the correct answer.
2) How does this theory fit in with what I already know? I may be an expert on nothing else, but I do know my own mind. Too much reliance on it means I only listen to people who support my prejudices, but too little and I end up unmoored and unable to tell anyone why I've chosen one course over another.
3) Does this mode of thinking yield good results? In almost all cases, only time will tell on this one, but once time has told, I don't get to rely on #1 and #2 to override the evidence before me.
#3 makes me believe flexibility is the key to untangling the expertise knot. If you follow an expert of any stripe for just as long as her/his approach yields good results and no further, I think your rate of failure will be quite manageable indeed.
What did you see today?
An e-mail list I subscribe to called HARO (what this stands for and more details here) is supported by ads. One of today's ads came from an internet media company. They were looking for experts in various fields to star in podcasts distributed to a number of their websites. I'm not providing a lot of detail because the terms of service on HARO say I can't reproduce the contents of the e-mails elsewhere without their express permission.
Commentary
One of the reasons I joined the HARO list is because they say something I believe: everyone is an expert on something. When I read the ad today, I thought, "I could provide an expert opinion on a couple of topics, like customer service or writing."
On the other hand, I don't have an expert's credentials in either of these fields. I'm interested in both and believe I have useful things to say, but does that make me a credible source? Maybe I'm just someone with an ax to grind and a fondness for hearing myself talk. OK, no "maybe" about that, but you get my point.
In fact, it's even hard to say if people who do have credentials are credible. I recently borrowed a book called Wrong: Why experts keep failing us - and how to know when not to trust them from the Jefferson Parish Library. Even though I haven't started it yet, I doubt it's lacking in examples of experts failing us.
So how does one know what to believe? I try to use a three-pronged approach:
1) What are the credentials behind the theory? Credentials are far from infallible, but for a starting point, I find the CDC more believable than an actress on the topic of vaccines. Also, credentials imply commitment to me, someone who considered the subject important enough to jump through what may seem like meaningless hoops to the rest of the world because he/she really wanted to arrive at the correct answer.
2) How does this theory fit in with what I already know? I may be an expert on nothing else, but I do know my own mind. Too much reliance on it means I only listen to people who support my prejudices, but too little and I end up unmoored and unable to tell anyone why I've chosen one course over another.
3) Does this mode of thinking yield good results? In almost all cases, only time will tell on this one, but once time has told, I don't get to rely on #1 and #2 to override the evidence before me.
#3 makes me believe flexibility is the key to untangling the expertise knot. If you follow an expert of any stripe for just as long as her/his approach yields good results and no further, I think your rate of failure will be quite manageable indeed.
What did you see today?
6/04/2011
I saw a driver slow down
Context
When I drive to Texarkana on Saturdays to attend my Quaker meeting, I usually obey the posted speed limit. Since a great deal of my trip takes place on a two-lane highway, this means when people pass me, they then pull in front of me.
A gentleman driving an older sedan with cracks in the windshield did this today. Shortly thereafter we came upon three vehicles on the opposite shoulder, one of which belonged to the Caddo Parish Sheriff's office and had its lights flashing. Louisiana law requires us to move over or slow down for vehicles with flashing lights on our own shoulder, but there are no obligations pertaining to vehicles on the opposite side. Nevertheless, the guy who had just passed me slowed down considerably, even going a few MPH under the speed limit. I was tempted to pass him, but restrained myself.
Commentary
My first reaction to the driver slowing down ahead of me was, "My driving decisions make my life easier." Consider: except for the "move over or slow down" rule mentioned above, I never have to change how I'm driving when I see a member of law enforcement. Other people have to make numerous adjustments.
Not that my method is entirely stress-free. When people pass me on the two-lane, they sometimes express annoyance, and I'm not completely immune to that. Nonetheless, I'd have to say my method of driving is the one that brings me the most peace.
Making all our decisions according to which ones will bring us the most peace is not a bad way to go, although it is complicated by the need to predict how we'll feel in the future on a regular basis. If nothing else, we can evaluate our current path to see if it's bringing us peace and make adjustments accordingly. Who knows? Doing this often enough might improve our powers of prediction.
So what do we define as peace? I'll admit that for me it has the air of "I know it when I feel it," but I'll try to be more definite. I think we can all agree that peace is not worry or stress or guilt, but I would venture to say it's not necessarily happiness or satisfaction, either. As mentioned previously, I often get a great deal of visceral satisfaction when I do the wrong thing. There's always psychic damage to clean up afterwards, though.
Absence of conflict is a reasonably good definition of peace, but it depends on how you define conflict (wheels within wheels!). I often find that making a good decision for me causes opposition from other people. What really tears me up is when I make the right choice for myself and someone else makes the right choice for her/himself and we still end up in conflict! These disputes can usually be resolved by recognizing our differing needs and perspectives, but still!
I also can't really say that making good decisions means I won't be conflicted about them. Change, even good change, is often very stressful. However, I usually find that once I've made my initial commitment and taken the first few steps, most of the strain falls away. Peace manifests in the feeling that a way is opening up for me.
If peace is the revelation of a path we can follow, then I have to say that neither complacency nor resignation fits the bill. Complacency does its level best to never move at all, and resignation implies that one is not deciding where to go. I do, however, have to leave room for the radical resignation that says, "I'm giving up everything to follow God's will."
There, I did it. Stuck God into the middle of a perfectly good (psychological? philosophical?) treatise. I can't help it, though. For me, even seeking peace is related to my religious beliefs that there is a God, that He cares about me, and that He has a plan. When I say "a way is opening up," I mean God's way. Realistically, I don't believe it's actually possible for us to thwart God's will. On the other hand, I think we can cause ourselves a lot of stress and worry by trying to.
What did you see today?
When I drive to Texarkana on Saturdays to attend my Quaker meeting, I usually obey the posted speed limit. Since a great deal of my trip takes place on a two-lane highway, this means when people pass me, they then pull in front of me.
A gentleman driving an older sedan with cracks in the windshield did this today. Shortly thereafter we came upon three vehicles on the opposite shoulder, one of which belonged to the Caddo Parish Sheriff's office and had its lights flashing. Louisiana law requires us to move over or slow down for vehicles with flashing lights on our own shoulder, but there are no obligations pertaining to vehicles on the opposite side. Nevertheless, the guy who had just passed me slowed down considerably, even going a few MPH under the speed limit. I was tempted to pass him, but restrained myself.
Commentary
My first reaction to the driver slowing down ahead of me was, "My driving decisions make my life easier." Consider: except for the "move over or slow down" rule mentioned above, I never have to change how I'm driving when I see a member of law enforcement. Other people have to make numerous adjustments.
Not that my method is entirely stress-free. When people pass me on the two-lane, they sometimes express annoyance, and I'm not completely immune to that. Nonetheless, I'd have to say my method of driving is the one that brings me the most peace.
Making all our decisions according to which ones will bring us the most peace is not a bad way to go, although it is complicated by the need to predict how we'll feel in the future on a regular basis. If nothing else, we can evaluate our current path to see if it's bringing us peace and make adjustments accordingly. Who knows? Doing this often enough might improve our powers of prediction.
So what do we define as peace? I'll admit that for me it has the air of "I know it when I feel it," but I'll try to be more definite. I think we can all agree that peace is not worry or stress or guilt, but I would venture to say it's not necessarily happiness or satisfaction, either. As mentioned previously, I often get a great deal of visceral satisfaction when I do the wrong thing. There's always psychic damage to clean up afterwards, though.
Absence of conflict is a reasonably good definition of peace, but it depends on how you define conflict (wheels within wheels!). I often find that making a good decision for me causes opposition from other people. What really tears me up is when I make the right choice for myself and someone else makes the right choice for her/himself and we still end up in conflict! These disputes can usually be resolved by recognizing our differing needs and perspectives, but still!
I also can't really say that making good decisions means I won't be conflicted about them. Change, even good change, is often very stressful. However, I usually find that once I've made my initial commitment and taken the first few steps, most of the strain falls away. Peace manifests in the feeling that a way is opening up for me.
If peace is the revelation of a path we can follow, then I have to say that neither complacency nor resignation fits the bill. Complacency does its level best to never move at all, and resignation implies that one is not deciding where to go. I do, however, have to leave room for the radical resignation that says, "I'm giving up everything to follow God's will."
There, I did it. Stuck God into the middle of a perfectly good (psychological? philosophical?) treatise. I can't help it, though. For me, even seeking peace is related to my religious beliefs that there is a God, that He cares about me, and that He has a plan. When I say "a way is opening up," I mean God's way. Realistically, I don't believe it's actually possible for us to thwart God's will. On the other hand, I think we can cause ourselves a lot of stress and worry by trying to.
What did you see today?
5/28/2011
I heard an acquaintance disagree with me
Context
Colleagues of my husband's are expecting a baby in August, so we went to a shower for them today. In the course of talking with the man of the couple, I had two disagreements with him strong enough that I felt the need to walk away rather than say something ugly.
Commentary
I like to argue, or at least, I like to debate issues. I'm one of those people who will say things I don't even believe just to make sure the person I'm talking with is considering all possible viewpoints.
For me, the ideal person to debate with is someone who is either equally powerful to me or more powerful in the current situation, because I don't want to oppress someone with my argumentativeness. I also want the person to have an intellect I respect, because then I feel like I can incorporate their reasoning into my future understanding of the issue.
So I'm distressed at a trait I've recently discovered in myself when I'm talking with a person I consider reasonably intelligent. If we disagree about something important to me, there's a good chance I'll reassess the other person's intelligence, rather than my opinion. It doesn't happen all the time, but it feels like an extra inappropriate hurdle I'm making people get over before I'll listen to them respectfully.
What did you hear today?
Colleagues of my husband's are expecting a baby in August, so we went to a shower for them today. In the course of talking with the man of the couple, I had two disagreements with him strong enough that I felt the need to walk away rather than say something ugly.
Commentary
I like to argue, or at least, I like to debate issues. I'm one of those people who will say things I don't even believe just to make sure the person I'm talking with is considering all possible viewpoints.
For me, the ideal person to debate with is someone who is either equally powerful to me or more powerful in the current situation, because I don't want to oppress someone with my argumentativeness. I also want the person to have an intellect I respect, because then I feel like I can incorporate their reasoning into my future understanding of the issue.
So I'm distressed at a trait I've recently discovered in myself when I'm talking with a person I consider reasonably intelligent. If we disagree about something important to me, there's a good chance I'll reassess the other person's intelligence, rather than my opinion. It doesn't happen all the time, but it feels like an extra inappropriate hurdle I'm making people get over before I'll listen to them respectfully.
What did you hear today?
5/23/2011
I heard a child yelling
Context
My house is adjacent to a city park, and as such I get to hear a lot of what goes on out there. Today I heard a child yelling in the park, and as often happens, I couldn't tell if he/she was in distress and if so, whether that distress required my attention. I let it slide and continued on my way to the dry cleaners.
Commentary
For various reasons, not the least because I used to be a Girl Scout and I have my Emergency Preparedness pin, I'm usually quite willing to jump into emergency situations. Car wreck? I'm calling 911, directing traffic, and holding the victim's hand (not at the same time). Turtle crossing the road? I'm jumping out of my car and carrying him across. Hey, you define "emergency" your way; I'll define it mine.
On the other hand, over time I've become much more cautious about getting involved in volatile interpersonal interactions, which are usually what's going on if I hear one person yelling in the park. If someone falls off the slide, I'll usually hear several people yelling, so I know to run out there. But one voice gives me pause.
As I said, this has happened over time. I used to interpose myself in personal conflicts with great glee, confident that I knew exactly what to do. This has changed for several reasons:
1) I'm a religious pacifist now. At one time I was perfectly willing to counter a violent act with one of my own, or at least threaten to. That tool is no longer in my repertoire.
2) I'm very unwilling to give unsolicited advice these days. Partially this is because I hate when people offer it to me, but it's also because I often don't believe it's effective. When someone is having a screaming match with their spouse, I'm don't think they're in a place where they can hear me say they're behaving badly.
3) I'm no longer as convinced of my own righteousness. When someone's drowning, you throw them a rope, of course. But when a mother is smacking her child, and I've experienced this, she has just as much right to tell me I have no idea what her life and her child are like as I do to tell her that corporal punishment is wrong. Neither of us is wrong.
So I stay out of a lot more situations, but I don't like that solution, either. It seems cowardly and apathetic. Lately I've been trying standing near people who are in conflict and watching silently, in hopes of giving a "I'm here, I see, I'm part of what you need to consider" vibe. So I'm opening my eyes but not, unless asked, my mouth. Is that enough?
What did you hear today?
My house is adjacent to a city park, and as such I get to hear a lot of what goes on out there. Today I heard a child yelling in the park, and as often happens, I couldn't tell if he/she was in distress and if so, whether that distress required my attention. I let it slide and continued on my way to the dry cleaners.
Commentary
For various reasons, not the least because I used to be a Girl Scout and I have my Emergency Preparedness pin, I'm usually quite willing to jump into emergency situations. Car wreck? I'm calling 911, directing traffic, and holding the victim's hand (not at the same time). Turtle crossing the road? I'm jumping out of my car and carrying him across. Hey, you define "emergency" your way; I'll define it mine.
On the other hand, over time I've become much more cautious about getting involved in volatile interpersonal interactions, which are usually what's going on if I hear one person yelling in the park. If someone falls off the slide, I'll usually hear several people yelling, so I know to run out there. But one voice gives me pause.
As I said, this has happened over time. I used to interpose myself in personal conflicts with great glee, confident that I knew exactly what to do. This has changed for several reasons:
1) I'm a religious pacifist now. At one time I was perfectly willing to counter a violent act with one of my own, or at least threaten to. That tool is no longer in my repertoire.
2) I'm very unwilling to give unsolicited advice these days. Partially this is because I hate when people offer it to me, but it's also because I often don't believe it's effective. When someone is having a screaming match with their spouse, I'm don't think they're in a place where they can hear me say they're behaving badly.
3) I'm no longer as convinced of my own righteousness. When someone's drowning, you throw them a rope, of course. But when a mother is smacking her child, and I've experienced this, she has just as much right to tell me I have no idea what her life and her child are like as I do to tell her that corporal punishment is wrong. Neither of us is wrong.
So I stay out of a lot more situations, but I don't like that solution, either. It seems cowardly and apathetic. Lately I've been trying standing near people who are in conflict and watching silently, in hopes of giving a "I'm here, I see, I'm part of what you need to consider" vibe. So I'm opening my eyes but not, unless asked, my mouth. Is that enough?
What did you hear today?
5/14/2011
I heard a question
Context
At my Quaker meeting today, we discussed this article about the Bible by Kristin Swenson. One of the regular attenders at the meeting has neither a strong interest nor a strong background in the Bible, so she asked what we thought the Bible was for. I said the Bible was for religious instruction. It has pretty good poetry, although it's probably better in the original Greek; reasonable history, especially if you're interested in the various kings of Israel, and some great philosophy. I also said it makes a poor science textbook. Someone at the table said this last would be a radical idea to the Texas Board of Education, because over the past few years, Texas has been embroiled in a debate about how to treat the theory of evolution in science textbooks.
Commentary
I need to start with some housekeeping. The link for Kristin Swenson's article goes to the Deseret News instead of the Shreveport Times, because the latter's archive didn't make it appear in a search. I'm sure they'll rue the day they lost the huge amount of traffic that comes from my blog!
Also, I try to be accurate in the Context portion of the blog, so I reported my comment that the poetry was better in the Greek. Upon further review, I should have said, "in the original language," because very little of the poetry in the Bible was originally written in Greek.
Lastly, I posted the most recent article I could find about the Texas textbook controversy, but if you do a Google search for Texas Board of Education creationism, you'll find all kinds of other goodies.
OK, now the actual commentary. Scientists don't like it when school boards put "all sides of scientific theories" language in textbook standards, because they think it's code for "take potshots at the theory of evolution." It may very well be, but the testimony on integrity (that again!) won't permit me to say so without positive proof.
So I won't deal with that issue. Instead, I'll talk about why the Bible itself, not any creationist-leaning textbook, makes a poor resource for scientific learning. The purpose of science books, and science classes for that matter, is to make observations about the world around us, come up with a plausible explanations for it, and ideally, teach people to do the same.
The Bible is terrible at this. In general, it jumps straight to conclusions without offering any physical evidence for them. I see no "We conclude God created the world in seven days because of this, this, and this" in Genesis; do you? Luckily, assertions about the nature of the physical world are kind of rare in the Bible; it's mostly about setting up a belief system and acting upon it. And to be fair, science textbooks are as bad as religious instruction as the Bible is at science.
Science is tethered to the realm of the possible. This is problematic for religion (at least my religion) in two ways:
1) Faith takes us outside the realm of what's physically possible. The Bible asserts that people can rise from the dead (2 Kings 4:32-37), that men can be thrown into a furnace and come out unharmed(Daniel 3:19-28), and that there will come a time when wolves lie down with lambs (Isaiah 11:6-8), and that's just in the Old Testament. The New Testament really goes berserk. Science can bring awe and wonder, but only faith sets us free from the tyranny of our lives to see new, unimagined possibilities. I recognize the irony of using that word, but whatcha gonna do?
2) Science makes no distinction between the possible and the desirable. Observable phenomena tell us that splitting atoms can cause horrific destruction. Science, in its purest form, has no opinion about whether this is a good or bad thing. Pretty much all religious thought comes down firmly on one side of the issue.
So science and religion have different purposes and places in our lives. Is that really such a radical idea?
What did you hear today?
At my Quaker meeting today, we discussed this article about the Bible by Kristin Swenson. One of the regular attenders at the meeting has neither a strong interest nor a strong background in the Bible, so she asked what we thought the Bible was for. I said the Bible was for religious instruction. It has pretty good poetry, although it's probably better in the original Greek; reasonable history, especially if you're interested in the various kings of Israel, and some great philosophy. I also said it makes a poor science textbook. Someone at the table said this last would be a radical idea to the Texas Board of Education, because over the past few years, Texas has been embroiled in a debate about how to treat the theory of evolution in science textbooks.
Commentary
I need to start with some housekeeping. The link for Kristin Swenson's article goes to the Deseret News instead of the Shreveport Times, because the latter's archive didn't make it appear in a search. I'm sure they'll rue the day they lost the huge amount of traffic that comes from my blog!
Also, I try to be accurate in the Context portion of the blog, so I reported my comment that the poetry was better in the Greek. Upon further review, I should have said, "in the original language," because very little of the poetry in the Bible was originally written in Greek.
Lastly, I posted the most recent article I could find about the Texas textbook controversy, but if you do a Google search for Texas Board of Education creationism, you'll find all kinds of other goodies.
OK, now the actual commentary. Scientists don't like it when school boards put "all sides of scientific theories" language in textbook standards, because they think it's code for "take potshots at the theory of evolution." It may very well be, but the testimony on integrity (that again!) won't permit me to say so without positive proof.
So I won't deal with that issue. Instead, I'll talk about why the Bible itself, not any creationist-leaning textbook, makes a poor resource for scientific learning. The purpose of science books, and science classes for that matter, is to make observations about the world around us, come up with a plausible explanations for it, and ideally, teach people to do the same.
The Bible is terrible at this. In general, it jumps straight to conclusions without offering any physical evidence for them. I see no "We conclude God created the world in seven days because of this, this, and this" in Genesis; do you? Luckily, assertions about the nature of the physical world are kind of rare in the Bible; it's mostly about setting up a belief system and acting upon it. And to be fair, science textbooks are as bad as religious instruction as the Bible is at science.
Science is tethered to the realm of the possible. This is problematic for religion (at least my religion) in two ways:
1) Faith takes us outside the realm of what's physically possible. The Bible asserts that people can rise from the dead (2 Kings 4:32-37), that men can be thrown into a furnace and come out unharmed(Daniel 3:19-28), and that there will come a time when wolves lie down with lambs (Isaiah 11:6-8), and that's just in the Old Testament. The New Testament really goes berserk. Science can bring awe and wonder, but only faith sets us free from the tyranny of our lives to see new, unimagined possibilities. I recognize the irony of using that word, but whatcha gonna do?
2) Science makes no distinction between the possible and the desirable. Observable phenomena tell us that splitting atoms can cause horrific destruction. Science, in its purest form, has no opinion about whether this is a good or bad thing. Pretty much all religious thought comes down firmly on one side of the issue.
So science and religion have different purposes and places in our lives. Is that really such a radical idea?
What did you hear today?
I heard someone apologize
Context
In a meeting today, the director of my library apologized for an administrative failure. After he did so, I heard a couple of people behind me murmuring things like, “Don’t apologize!” and “This was going on long before he got here.”
Commentary
This is actually my entry for 5/12/10, but Blogger was down that day.
I’m a strong believer in the Quaker testimony on integrity. Your “yes” should be a yes, and your “no,” a no. People ought to be able to believe in what you say.
A consequence of this is I get annoyed if people don’t believe what I say. If I say I’m sorry, I’m not trying to smooth things over or gain sympathy; I did wrong and I want to express regret about it. Moreover, I think that minimizing my apology minimizes my autonomy, implying that I'm not really responsible for the things I do. I feel it's only fair to warn you: you don't want to get between me and my autonomy.
I also tend to take a transactional view of human interactions. I say, "Thank you;" you say, "You're welcome." You ask me if I want something; I say, "No, thank you;" you don't give it to me, and we both go on with our lives.
Brushing off an apology, rather than accepting it, short-circuits the transaction. A person lets me know I've done something wrong, I apologize, then the person says, essentially, "Oh, don't worry about it." Then, what? The transgression just hangs out there forever? Or am I supposed to forget you said anything? Then why did you say anything? I'm trying to take responsibility for the bad thing I did; are you refusing to take responsibility for having brought it up?
I know, I'm reading way too much into something people do to be polite. But that brings us back to the integrity thing again. The stuff you say, complaints, apologies, declarations of affection and gratitude, should not be just empty words, they should mean something. Or don't waste your breath and my time.
What did you see today?
In a meeting today, the director of my library apologized for an administrative failure. After he did so, I heard a couple of people behind me murmuring things like, “Don’t apologize!” and “This was going on long before he got here.”
Commentary
This is actually my entry for 5/12/10, but Blogger was down that day.
I’m a strong believer in the Quaker testimony on integrity. Your “yes” should be a yes, and your “no,” a no. People ought to be able to believe in what you say.
A consequence of this is I get annoyed if people don’t believe what I say. If I say I’m sorry, I’m not trying to smooth things over or gain sympathy; I did wrong and I want to express regret about it. Moreover, I think that minimizing my apology minimizes my autonomy, implying that I'm not really responsible for the things I do. I feel it's only fair to warn you: you don't want to get between me and my autonomy.
I also tend to take a transactional view of human interactions. I say, "Thank you;" you say, "You're welcome." You ask me if I want something; I say, "No, thank you;" you don't give it to me, and we both go on with our lives.
Brushing off an apology, rather than accepting it, short-circuits the transaction. A person lets me know I've done something wrong, I apologize, then the person says, essentially, "Oh, don't worry about it." Then, what? The transgression just hangs out there forever? Or am I supposed to forget you said anything? Then why did you say anything? I'm trying to take responsibility for the bad thing I did; are you refusing to take responsibility for having brought it up?
I know, I'm reading way too much into something people do to be polite. But that brings us back to the integrity thing again. The stuff you say, complaints, apologies, declarations of affection and gratitude, should not be just empty words, they should mean something. Or don't waste your breath and my time.
What did you see today?
5/10/2011
I saw (and heard!) a disappointing webinar
Context
I attended a free webinar sponsored by the American Library Association today entitled It's All About the Student: How Students Learn and How Online Reference Sources Help. Since I teach computer skills to adults at my library I thought it would be of some use to me and I stuck with it until the end, but I didn't enjoy it much.
Commentary
The first thing I found disappointing about this webinar was that it was not a webinar, at least not in the sense of being in seminar format. The presenters were given time to present and attenders were allowed to ask questions through a chat window, but generally those were answered by a moderator. So it really wasn't the "exchange of ideas" my dictionary says a seminar is supposed to be. It was a set of lectures.
To compound the problem, the lectures themselves didn't engage me. Some of that was because I am not much of an audio learner. Instead, I'm more of a visual-kinesthetic type. There were visual aids (otherwise it would have been a podcast), but because they were PowerPoints I found myself thinking, "I could have just read these slides at my leisure instead of being chained to my desk listening to these people blather on." Or in one case, LISTENING TO THE PERSON READ HER POWERPOINT SLIDES! Are we ever going to cure people of that?
Not that I would have read the slides anyway, because they were mostly sales pitches for the online reference products sold by various companies. I probably should have expected this going in because most of the panel was composed of vendors, but I didn't think it would be quite so blatant.
Which brings me to my main problem with the whole enterprise. The first presenter, a librarian at Harvard, attempted to build a context for what we were going to hear by talking about some learning characteristics of digital natives. I didn't necessarily trust her conclusions, but at least she was speaking in the realm of ideas. After that, it was a series of "Look at these cool bells and whistles!" talks except for the very last vendor, who at least attempted to to talk about the pedagogical reasoning behind his company's offerings. I came away not only disappointed in the webinar, but in our whole educational system if this is how we decide what tools to use.
"Student engagement" is a popular concept in teacher training these days, and I agree that if someone's not paying attention, they're not likely to learn much. I'm concerned that we're confusing condiments for entrees though, trying to get students engaged using cool technology toys and ignoring whether they're actually learning and retaining something in the process.
In the end, though, the webinar was not a total loss for me. I spent some time this afternoon thinking about ways I balance student engagement with discernable learning outcomes in my own classes, and I'll probably do some writing about that topic a little later. I count it as blessing when my generally discontented nature allows me to examine some deeper truths.
What did you see (and hear!) today?
I attended a free webinar sponsored by the American Library Association today entitled It's All About the Student: How Students Learn and How Online Reference Sources Help. Since I teach computer skills to adults at my library I thought it would be of some use to me and I stuck with it until the end, but I didn't enjoy it much.
Commentary
The first thing I found disappointing about this webinar was that it was not a webinar, at least not in the sense of being in seminar format. The presenters were given time to present and attenders were allowed to ask questions through a chat window, but generally those were answered by a moderator. So it really wasn't the "exchange of ideas" my dictionary says a seminar is supposed to be. It was a set of lectures.
To compound the problem, the lectures themselves didn't engage me. Some of that was because I am not much of an audio learner. Instead, I'm more of a visual-kinesthetic type. There were visual aids (otherwise it would have been a podcast), but because they were PowerPoints I found myself thinking, "I could have just read these slides at my leisure instead of being chained to my desk listening to these people blather on." Or in one case, LISTENING TO THE PERSON READ HER POWERPOINT SLIDES! Are we ever going to cure people of that?
Not that I would have read the slides anyway, because they were mostly sales pitches for the online reference products sold by various companies. I probably should have expected this going in because most of the panel was composed of vendors, but I didn't think it would be quite so blatant.
Which brings me to my main problem with the whole enterprise. The first presenter, a librarian at Harvard, attempted to build a context for what we were going to hear by talking about some learning characteristics of digital natives. I didn't necessarily trust her conclusions, but at least she was speaking in the realm of ideas. After that, it was a series of "Look at these cool bells and whistles!" talks except for the very last vendor, who at least attempted to to talk about the pedagogical reasoning behind his company's offerings. I came away not only disappointed in the webinar, but in our whole educational system if this is how we decide what tools to use.
"Student engagement" is a popular concept in teacher training these days, and I agree that if someone's not paying attention, they're not likely to learn much. I'm concerned that we're confusing condiments for entrees though, trying to get students engaged using cool technology toys and ignoring whether they're actually learning and retaining something in the process.
In the end, though, the webinar was not a total loss for me. I spent some time this afternoon thinking about ways I balance student engagement with discernable learning outcomes in my own classes, and I'll probably do some writing about that topic a little later. I count it as blessing when my generally discontented nature allows me to examine some deeper truths.
What did you see (and hear!) today?
4/08/2011
I saw ideas about education
Context
I'm still reading What Would Google Do? In the section on Google U, Jarvis posits that most useful education is self-motivated and self-directing, so the current educational model of coming to a specific classroom and learning what the teacher tells you is hopelessly outdated. He allows that our schools may have a socialization function as well as an educational one, but he thinks there are plenty of other communities and experiences that could fulfill the same role.
Commentary
OK, now Jarvis has wandered into my field, so I'm bound to get touchy. Actually, I don't want to talk about education per se; I want to dive into that "socialization" thing. It seems to me that when Jarvis looks at it, he thinks of socialization as the process of helping a student find a community, literally giving them a social life in some respect.
However, that's not entirely what we expect out of schooling, especially public schooling, in this country. We don't just want students to find some community to belong to, we want them to specifically belong to the American community. The most obvious example of our attempts to create Americans is the civics class, but there are others. Take science labs. Performing experiments in school tells our kids that they shouldn't just take someone's word for something. Or gym class, where 8-year-olds learn some of the same lessons about discipline and teamwork they would if they attended military boot camp.
In fact, the biggest battles we fight over education in this country are about what "America" is. Are we a Christian people who should be taught about God in the classroom? Are we an egalitarian people who believe everyone should learn together, regardless of skills or background? Is free speech or good discipline a more important characteristic of Americans? General school board meetings are fun, but if you really want to get a lesson in civics, find a way to get yourself on a curriculum or textbook choosing committee. Then you'll really learn what this country is all about, at least in your neighbors' eyes.
Does it make you uncomfortable when I talk about school as indoctrination? That is, in and of itself, an American thing. We pride ourselves on being free, independent, self-deterministic types. And, to be fair, the fact that we debate the issues mentioned above on a regular basis, rather than being dictated to by a small group of people or a time-honored tradition, speaks to how free we are. And also to why debate techniques are frequently taught in American schools.
What did you see today?
I'm still reading What Would Google Do? In the section on Google U, Jarvis posits that most useful education is self-motivated and self-directing, so the current educational model of coming to a specific classroom and learning what the teacher tells you is hopelessly outdated. He allows that our schools may have a socialization function as well as an educational one, but he thinks there are plenty of other communities and experiences that could fulfill the same role.
Commentary
OK, now Jarvis has wandered into my field, so I'm bound to get touchy. Actually, I don't want to talk about education per se; I want to dive into that "socialization" thing. It seems to me that when Jarvis looks at it, he thinks of socialization as the process of helping a student find a community, literally giving them a social life in some respect.
However, that's not entirely what we expect out of schooling, especially public schooling, in this country. We don't just want students to find some community to belong to, we want them to specifically belong to the American community. The most obvious example of our attempts to create Americans is the civics class, but there are others. Take science labs. Performing experiments in school tells our kids that they shouldn't just take someone's word for something. Or gym class, where 8-year-olds learn some of the same lessons about discipline and teamwork they would if they attended military boot camp.
In fact, the biggest battles we fight over education in this country are about what "America" is. Are we a Christian people who should be taught about God in the classroom? Are we an egalitarian people who believe everyone should learn together, regardless of skills or background? Is free speech or good discipline a more important characteristic of Americans? General school board meetings are fun, but if you really want to get a lesson in civics, find a way to get yourself on a curriculum or textbook choosing committee. Then you'll really learn what this country is all about, at least in your neighbors' eyes.
Does it make you uncomfortable when I talk about school as indoctrination? That is, in and of itself, an American thing. We pride ourselves on being free, independent, self-deterministic types. And, to be fair, the fact that we debate the issues mentioned above on a regular basis, rather than being dictated to by a small group of people or a time-honored tradition, speaks to how free we are. And also to why debate techniques are frequently taught in American schools.
What did you see today?
4/06/2011
I saw an explanation of Google's success
Context
I'm reading Jeff Jarvis's What Would Google Do? As you might discern from the title, this is a book analyzing Google's business success and suggesting what other businesses could do to emulate them. According to Jarvis, one of Google's chief strength is its ability to leverage communities and their data to deliver outstanding advertising packages.
Commentary
As I told my husband, What Would Google Do? is a palette cleanser after having read Andrew Keen's The Cult of the Amateur: how today's internet is killing our culture. It's funny, before I started I would've sworn I had much more in common with Kenn's viewpoint than Jarvis's, but I found The Cult of the Amateur to be a nearly unreadable elitist screed, while What Would Google Do? is a well-reasoned, thought-provoking treatise.
Not that I agree with all of it. I understand that Google has revolutionized advertising and made it, for perhaps the first time, a viable way to make money off the internet. However, I'd like to point out two things about advertising:
1) It's annoying. In fact, I think I can make a case that Google's famous "Don't be evil" motto is violated every time they run an ad.
2) It's hard to do well. I'm on the internet a lot, because I use it a lot for my work. I see a lot of internet advertising, and most of it is bad. Here's what I define as bad internet advertising:
1) It advertises something I would never buy, like life insurance.
2) If I did ever consider buying the type of product or service advertised, I wouldn't pick this particular one, because the content of the ad seems untrustworthy.
3) The advertiser seems to be trying to distract me from #2 by using cheesy, distracting graphics (shocked babies, dancing women, etc.). Apparently, some of them use sound as well, but my work computer is always muted, so I'm spared that.
The ads that appear on Google itself may fit #1 and #2, but never #3, so I'll give them credit for that. But the prevalence of ads on other sites that do fulfill all three make me question whether "becoming a node for advertising" is the panacea Jarvis seems to think it is.
In fact, it can backfire badly: when I'm on a website, if it has the 1-2-3 punch of bad advertising, there's a good chance I'll think the site itself is disreputable or failing economically even if I like the editorial content. If I decide to not visit anymore, the advertising has hurt the site's long-term bottom line while giving it a short-term injection of cash. Everyone can be harmed by their company they keep. Even Google.
What did you see today?
I'm reading Jeff Jarvis's What Would Google Do? As you might discern from the title, this is a book analyzing Google's business success and suggesting what other businesses could do to emulate them. According to Jarvis, one of Google's chief strength is its ability to leverage communities and their data to deliver outstanding advertising packages.
Commentary
As I told my husband, What Would Google Do? is a palette cleanser after having read Andrew Keen's The Cult of the Amateur: how today's internet is killing our culture. It's funny, before I started I would've sworn I had much more in common with Kenn's viewpoint than Jarvis's, but I found The Cult of the Amateur to be a nearly unreadable elitist screed, while What Would Google Do? is a well-reasoned, thought-provoking treatise.
Not that I agree with all of it. I understand that Google has revolutionized advertising and made it, for perhaps the first time, a viable way to make money off the internet. However, I'd like to point out two things about advertising:
1) It's annoying. In fact, I think I can make a case that Google's famous "Don't be evil" motto is violated every time they run an ad.
2) It's hard to do well. I'm on the internet a lot, because I use it a lot for my work. I see a lot of internet advertising, and most of it is bad. Here's what I define as bad internet advertising:
1) It advertises something I would never buy, like life insurance.
2) If I did ever consider buying the type of product or service advertised, I wouldn't pick this particular one, because the content of the ad seems untrustworthy.
3) The advertiser seems to be trying to distract me from #2 by using cheesy, distracting graphics (shocked babies, dancing women, etc.). Apparently, some of them use sound as well, but my work computer is always muted, so I'm spared that.
The ads that appear on Google itself may fit #1 and #2, but never #3, so I'll give them credit for that. But the prevalence of ads on other sites that do fulfill all three make me question whether "becoming a node for advertising" is the panacea Jarvis seems to think it is.
In fact, it can backfire badly: when I'm on a website, if it has the 1-2-3 punch of bad advertising, there's a good chance I'll think the site itself is disreputable or failing economically even if I like the editorial content. If I decide to not visit anymore, the advertising has hurt the site's long-term bottom line while giving it a short-term injection of cash. Everyone can be harmed by their company they keep. Even Google.
What did you see today?
3/09/2011
I saw a blog post about teaching methods
Context
One of the messages on the Information Literacy Instruction mailing list today referenced this blog post. I encourage you to read it yourself, but here's the quick summary: it's about using a learning cycle consisting of assimilation, accommodation, and organization as a model for library instruction.
Commentary
This is my interpretation of the learning cycle described by Frierson: assimilation is when we receive information, accommodation is how we match up new information to what we already know, and organization is how we decide to use the information. Let me give an example of how this works: I look at my thermometer and assimilate that the temperature outside is 49 degrees Fahrenheit. I accommodate this knowledge by remembering that in the past when it has been 49 degrees, I've been pretty chilly. I organize the information by deciding to wear a coat.
Teaching is often treated as just a process of putting information out there so students can assimilate it. In return, students sometimes bypass accommodation entirely and only organize the information so they can regurgitate it on an exam. Teachers are frustrated because students don't appear to learn; students are frustrated because teachers don't appear to offer anything of lasting value (Where am I ever going to diagram sentences in the real world?).
Early in his teaching career, my husband attended a workshop called Teaching and Learning. He learned all kinds of useful stuff there; I learned for the first time that education is not just about teaching, but about learning as well. In other words, you can be the best teacher in the whole world, but if your students aren't learning, it's a pointless exercise for everyone. This can be terrifying to teachers, because although we have complete control over how we present information, we have no control over how students accommodate it or organize it. The best we can hope for is to accompany them in that process and maybe learn something ourselves.
There's also a time factor. Presenting information generally doesn't take long, whether we talk, or give the students something to read, or even demonstrate a task. However, waiting for each individual student to find existing knowledge in his/her brain to tack the new information to and decide how she/he wants to use it is not only time-consuming, it's unpredictably time-consuming.
A typical response is to say we don't have time to teach that way. I don't buy it. Here is my philosophy about time: we have time to do everything we really want to do. I have a similar philosophy about money, but I won't go into that. Anyway, when it comes to time constraints, I think what we're really saying is we don't have time to do something and . . . "I don't have time to do the dishes tonight" really means "I don't have time to do the dishes tonight and go to bed early so I can get up early tomorrow and not be sleepy." We're setting some priorities, which is reasonable, but it's not the same as having no time to do the dishes.
So why don't we have time to teach in such a way that students will want to learn and be successful doing so? Because what we prioritize more highly is "covering material." Of all the insidious ideas to infiltrate education, this has got to be the worst. OK, I'm not super fond of group work either, but I digress. I don't know how we ever got to a place where we believe it is more important for a teacher to get through a certain number of lessons or concepts or textbook pages than it is for students to actually learn something.
Actually, I'm lying. I know exactly how we got here; it's through mistrust and laziness. We don't trust teachers to teach, so we want to evaluate them. But measuring how much a student has learned, as opposed to how much he/she can remember at test time, is difficult. So we settle for a quantitative measure, like a percentage of right answers, instead of a qualitative one, like how good a student is at formulating worthwhile answers to substantive questions of her/his own devising. But man, that material gets covered!
What did you see today?
One of the messages on the Information Literacy Instruction mailing list today referenced this blog post. I encourage you to read it yourself, but here's the quick summary: it's about using a learning cycle consisting of assimilation, accommodation, and organization as a model for library instruction.
Commentary
This is my interpretation of the learning cycle described by Frierson: assimilation is when we receive information, accommodation is how we match up new information to what we already know, and organization is how we decide to use the information. Let me give an example of how this works: I look at my thermometer and assimilate that the temperature outside is 49 degrees Fahrenheit. I accommodate this knowledge by remembering that in the past when it has been 49 degrees, I've been pretty chilly. I organize the information by deciding to wear a coat.
Teaching is often treated as just a process of putting information out there so students can assimilate it. In return, students sometimes bypass accommodation entirely and only organize the information so they can regurgitate it on an exam. Teachers are frustrated because students don't appear to learn; students are frustrated because teachers don't appear to offer anything of lasting value (Where am I ever going to diagram sentences in the real world?).
Early in his teaching career, my husband attended a workshop called Teaching and Learning. He learned all kinds of useful stuff there; I learned for the first time that education is not just about teaching, but about learning as well. In other words, you can be the best teacher in the whole world, but if your students aren't learning, it's a pointless exercise for everyone. This can be terrifying to teachers, because although we have complete control over how we present information, we have no control over how students accommodate it or organize it. The best we can hope for is to accompany them in that process and maybe learn something ourselves.
There's also a time factor. Presenting information generally doesn't take long, whether we talk, or give the students something to read, or even demonstrate a task. However, waiting for each individual student to find existing knowledge in his/her brain to tack the new information to and decide how she/he wants to use it is not only time-consuming, it's unpredictably time-consuming.
A typical response is to say we don't have time to teach that way. I don't buy it. Here is my philosophy about time: we have time to do everything we really want to do. I have a similar philosophy about money, but I won't go into that. Anyway, when it comes to time constraints, I think what we're really saying is we don't have time to do something and . . . "I don't have time to do the dishes tonight" really means "I don't have time to do the dishes tonight and go to bed early so I can get up early tomorrow and not be sleepy." We're setting some priorities, which is reasonable, but it's not the same as having no time to do the dishes.
So why don't we have time to teach in such a way that students will want to learn and be successful doing so? Because what we prioritize more highly is "covering material." Of all the insidious ideas to infiltrate education, this has got to be the worst. OK, I'm not super fond of group work either, but I digress. I don't know how we ever got to a place where we believe it is more important for a teacher to get through a certain number of lessons or concepts or textbook pages than it is for students to actually learn something.
Actually, I'm lying. I know exactly how we got here; it's through mistrust and laziness. We don't trust teachers to teach, so we want to evaluate them. But measuring how much a student has learned, as opposed to how much he/she can remember at test time, is difficult. So we settle for a quantitative measure, like a percentage of right answers, instead of a qualitative one, like how good a student is at formulating worthwhile answers to substantive questions of her/his own devising. But man, that material gets covered!
What did you see today?
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