"Faced with the choice between changing one's mind and proving that there is no need to do so, almost everyone gets busy on the proof." - John Kenneth Galbraith
Isn't it the truth? Every single one of us has held onto strategies that have been clearly demonstrated not to work. Women trapped in situations with abusive men finally get themselves out -- only to immediately hook up with another one.
Business owners persist in plans that focus firmly on a long-gone past (think the American automobile industry) or demonstrate the most incredibly cynical and short-sighted greed (subprime lending, for instance).
Politicians -- whether it's fostering Great Society welfare dependency, or proclaiming the gospel of market deregulation up to, and right past, the point of public health or industry collapse -- just can't accept the fact that negative results disprove really bad ideas.
Every day we find out that things we just know to be true, aren't true at all. And even though our erroneous premises cause us direct damage, we pull ourselves together and bravely ... stay the course.
Maybe if we just try harder... If we just BELIEVE...
Last week I mentioned the scientific method. Rational people test hypotheses, and discard the ones that fail. What could be clearer?
Except even scientists can't pull it off. Almost every time there's a major shift in scientific understanding -- whether it's Copernican cosmology or quantum physics or climatology -- a whole generation of stubborn scientists has to die off before the new insight can be adopted, and pave the way for the next advance.
Based on brain research, the problem is something called "framing." The way our brains work is that we build a series of linked assumptions that help us make sense of things. But frames not only define "meaning," they also filter out anything that contradicts them.
Here's a two word frame: "tax burden." Make those two words into a single axiom, and even if a tax is the cheapest, simplest, fairest means to accomplish something most people agree is essential to our common survival, you just can't see it. Literally. It's outside the frame.
It's impossible to be human without finding that sooner or later, your frame doesn't fit reality. But trying to make reality fit the frame when it doesn't is, when you get right down to it, a delusion.
Delusions are common. Here was mine: for the past 13 years, I believed that growing library use would result in the growth of library support.
In 1996, our library won a tax increase by a slim 51%. Back then, 51% of the county's households had a library card, and the average annual checkouts per person was about 9.
In 2007, a year BEFORE the economic meltdown, 84% of the households had a library card, and the average annual checkouts had risen to over 20 per person -- among the highest not just in Colorado, not just in the United States, but in the world.
That would seem to be the right time to ask for more financial support, which we needed for clearly identifiable projects, in obvious demand, and which we could not otherwise afford. So we did.
And we LOST by 51%.
Every tax increase is not automatically justified or worthy of support. Neither, by the way, is every private sector price increase (gasoline or insurance, for example) -- which might well result in far more of a financial "burden" than a particular tax.
But my conclusion is this: even intense use of public library service is not sufficient to ensure additional library funding. I have proof.
The act of intellectual courage I most respect is the ability to change one's mind. To say, "I was wrong. I see that."
And to build a new, more accurate frame.
---
LaRue's Views are his own. The odds are good, as noted above, that at least some of them are mistaken.
Welcome
This blog represents most of the newspaper columns (appearing in various Colorado Community Newspapers and Yourhub.com) written by me, James LaRue, during the time in which I was the director of the Douglas County Libraries in Douglas County, Colorado. (Some columns are missing, due to my own filing errors.) This blog covers the time period from April 11, 1990 to January 12, 2012.
Unless I say so, the views expressed here are mine and mine alone. They may be quoted elsewhere, so long as you give attribution. The dates are (at least according my records) the dates of publication in one of the above print newspapers.
Unless I say so, the views expressed here are mine and mine alone. They may be quoted elsewhere, so long as you give attribution. The dates are (at least according my records) the dates of publication in one of the above print newspapers.
The blog archive (web view) is in chronological order. The display of entries, below, seems to be in reverse order, new to old.
All of the mistakes are of course my own responsibility.
All of the mistakes are of course my own responsibility.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Thursday, January 15, 2009
January 15, 2008 - are we rational?
Since way back in grade school, I've been enamored of the scientific method. The idea is that we are rational creatures, delighting in growing our understanding of the marvelous natural world.
True, we often start out with ideas that are a little looney. They don't fit the facts. But that's the whole point of the scientific method: you frame a hypothesis to explain some phenomenon, then you test it. If the hypothesis is wrong, you throw it out the window and come up with one that does a better job of standing up to the evidence.
It's a powerful thing. Using the scientific method, we have pushed back the darkness of human ignorance, and made incomparable gains in everything from our own ability to survive, to remarkable works of civilization.
I've also long been a fan of science fiction. What young person -- or any person of imagination -- wouldn't want to sail out into space on the starship Enterprise?
But there are frontiers that are closer to home: the study of our own brains.
Often, we learn about how the brain operates when something goes wrong -- catastrophic injury, for instance. I've read about several cases now when blows to the cerebral cortex suddenly deprive people of emotion, of their very capacity to feel.
On the one hand, how tragic. Never again to know the exaltation of love, the tenderness of parental affection!
On the other hand, well, it would be kind of like being Star Trek's Spock. You'd be able to think, to analyze, without that cloud of feeling that so often distracts us from the plain data in front of us. You could just objectively consider things, and decide intelligently, unclouded by childhood trauma, emotional bias, or unreasoning prejudice.
And here's the first bit of stunning news: the people who have no emotions suddenly find that they can't decide anything at all. Why? Because there's no end to analysis. What if this? What if that? On the plus side ... on the negative ... round and round.
It turns out that, almost always, we decide things emotionally. We literally make gut decisions. Then we arrange the evidence to support our conclusions.
It gets worse. Often, our decisions happen far below the level even of feeling. For instance, a recent study found that taking birth control pills affects the attraction that women feel to various men.
Women who don't take birth control pills tend to be drawn to men who smell ... different. Scientists theorize that this is because that smell (the information encoded in pheromones) means that the man comes from a more diverse gene pool, thereby building broader immunities in offspring.
But when they take the pill, women are drawn to men who smell more like themselves. At some chemical level, maybe because birth control pills mimic a kind of pregnancy, women are now drawn to people who smell like family, who will stay around and look after young 'uns.
Still with me? We decide such things as life mates not with our brains, but with our noses.
There are a host of almost independent systems within our bodies: the brain, the immune system, our genes, bacteriological responses, and more. Over them all, we impose what may well be a fiction of personal narrative. That is, we explain our decisions -- made at some cellular level, and quite unconsciously -- with reasons we dream up after the fact that seem consistent with our stories of self.
So here's this week's conclusion: We aren't rational beings. Mostly, we just pretend to be.
Next week: letting go of what you know to be wrong.
--
LaRue's Views are his own.
True, we often start out with ideas that are a little looney. They don't fit the facts. But that's the whole point of the scientific method: you frame a hypothesis to explain some phenomenon, then you test it. If the hypothesis is wrong, you throw it out the window and come up with one that does a better job of standing up to the evidence.
It's a powerful thing. Using the scientific method, we have pushed back the darkness of human ignorance, and made incomparable gains in everything from our own ability to survive, to remarkable works of civilization.
I've also long been a fan of science fiction. What young person -- or any person of imagination -- wouldn't want to sail out into space on the starship Enterprise?
But there are frontiers that are closer to home: the study of our own brains.
Often, we learn about how the brain operates when something goes wrong -- catastrophic injury, for instance. I've read about several cases now when blows to the cerebral cortex suddenly deprive people of emotion, of their very capacity to feel.
On the one hand, how tragic. Never again to know the exaltation of love, the tenderness of parental affection!
On the other hand, well, it would be kind of like being Star Trek's Spock. You'd be able to think, to analyze, without that cloud of feeling that so often distracts us from the plain data in front of us. You could just objectively consider things, and decide intelligently, unclouded by childhood trauma, emotional bias, or unreasoning prejudice.
And here's the first bit of stunning news: the people who have no emotions suddenly find that they can't decide anything at all. Why? Because there's no end to analysis. What if this? What if that? On the plus side ... on the negative ... round and round.
It turns out that, almost always, we decide things emotionally. We literally make gut decisions. Then we arrange the evidence to support our conclusions.
It gets worse. Often, our decisions happen far below the level even of feeling. For instance, a recent study found that taking birth control pills affects the attraction that women feel to various men.
Women who don't take birth control pills tend to be drawn to men who smell ... different. Scientists theorize that this is because that smell (the information encoded in pheromones) means that the man comes from a more diverse gene pool, thereby building broader immunities in offspring.
But when they take the pill, women are drawn to men who smell more like themselves. At some chemical level, maybe because birth control pills mimic a kind of pregnancy, women are now drawn to people who smell like family, who will stay around and look after young 'uns.
Still with me? We decide such things as life mates not with our brains, but with our noses.
There are a host of almost independent systems within our bodies: the brain, the immune system, our genes, bacteriological responses, and more. Over them all, we impose what may well be a fiction of personal narrative. That is, we explain our decisions -- made at some cellular level, and quite unconsciously -- with reasons we dream up after the fact that seem consistent with our stories of self.
So here's this week's conclusion: We aren't rational beings. Mostly, we just pretend to be.
Next week: letting go of what you know to be wrong.
--
LaRue's Views are his own.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
December 4, 2008 - back up to move forward
Back in my early twenties, I had an unusually vivid dream. I was driving a car, when suddenly, a big concrete wall loomed up in front of me. Crash!
For a moment, I was stunned, stopped, horrified. Then, I gradually realized that I wasn't bleeding. Nothing was broken. I put the car in reverse, and slowly backed up. Everything seemed to be working. I pulled forward around the blockade. And woke up.
The meaning was clear enough. Back then, I had a gift for making spectacularly bad romantic choices. The dream was about another breakup ... that I survived.
I find the image apt for the 2008 library election. Crash! - 52.6% of the county voted down a mill levy increase.
Castle Pines North voted for the mill levy increase at 62%. Parker approved it at 51%. Highlands Ranch and Lone Tree came in at 48%; Castle Rock at 43%, and Roxborough at 38%. But despite regional differences, the total is what matters.
The library was on the road to keeping pace with growth and demand. And after two attempts to make that case to the voters, I think we have to assume that the community has spoken. That road is blocked.
But as in my dream, I find that the library is still whole. In the entire history of the library district (formed in 1990) we have never taken on any debt. We have an extraordinary staff, whose dedication and skills are intact. On the basis of public use, of staff productivity, of community connection and impact, we are among the most successful public libraries in the nation.
That's not a bad place to be.
Of course, there are still some significant discrepancies in library services around the county. Our Parker Library is woefully inadequate. Castle Pines has no library at all. That's a service problem.
As we sat down to finalize our 2009 budget, we made another couple of discoveries. For the first time, our expenditures are exactly equal to our anticipated revenues. There's no wiggle room, and thus no contribution to our savings. Recent projections suggest that all of Douglas County may see a drop in assessed valuation next year. That means a drop in library revenue.
So not only will we not be growing, it's time to trim our sails. The alternative is to do nothing, and have to meet a crisis the following year, when only the most drastic action is possible. That puts too many library workers at risk.
Responsible leadership means that we have to make some thoughtful reductions in service in 2009.
We are not alone. I am well aware that this exactly parallels what's going on in many households across America. When times are tight, you can't do all the things you could do before.
In January, 2009, our Library Board and staff will begin to consider some changes in our service offerings. I anticipate that some of those changes might begin to be seen in June of next year.
Meanwhile, I'm taking a month off from writing newspaper columns. I've got some thinking to do.
Sometimes, you have to back up a little before you can move forward.
---
LaRue's Views are his own.
For a moment, I was stunned, stopped, horrified. Then, I gradually realized that I wasn't bleeding. Nothing was broken. I put the car in reverse, and slowly backed up. Everything seemed to be working. I pulled forward around the blockade. And woke up.
The meaning was clear enough. Back then, I had a gift for making spectacularly bad romantic choices. The dream was about another breakup ... that I survived.
I find the image apt for the 2008 library election. Crash! - 52.6% of the county voted down a mill levy increase.
Castle Pines North voted for the mill levy increase at 62%. Parker approved it at 51%. Highlands Ranch and Lone Tree came in at 48%; Castle Rock at 43%, and Roxborough at 38%. But despite regional differences, the total is what matters.
The library was on the road to keeping pace with growth and demand. And after two attempts to make that case to the voters, I think we have to assume that the community has spoken. That road is blocked.
But as in my dream, I find that the library is still whole. In the entire history of the library district (formed in 1990) we have never taken on any debt. We have an extraordinary staff, whose dedication and skills are intact. On the basis of public use, of staff productivity, of community connection and impact, we are among the most successful public libraries in the nation.
That's not a bad place to be.
Of course, there are still some significant discrepancies in library services around the county. Our Parker Library is woefully inadequate. Castle Pines has no library at all. That's a service problem.
As we sat down to finalize our 2009 budget, we made another couple of discoveries. For the first time, our expenditures are exactly equal to our anticipated revenues. There's no wiggle room, and thus no contribution to our savings. Recent projections suggest that all of Douglas County may see a drop in assessed valuation next year. That means a drop in library revenue.
So not only will we not be growing, it's time to trim our sails. The alternative is to do nothing, and have to meet a crisis the following year, when only the most drastic action is possible. That puts too many library workers at risk.
Responsible leadership means that we have to make some thoughtful reductions in service in 2009.
We are not alone. I am well aware that this exactly parallels what's going on in many households across America. When times are tight, you can't do all the things you could do before.
In January, 2009, our Library Board and staff will begin to consider some changes in our service offerings. I anticipate that some of those changes might begin to be seen in June of next year.
Meanwhile, I'm taking a month off from writing newspaper columns. I've got some thinking to do.
Sometimes, you have to back up a little before you can move forward.
---
LaRue's Views are his own.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
November 27, 2008 - What (and who) is next?
Many months ago now, I attended a couple of meetings with the deans of two library schools.
We library directors had some ideas about the desirable skill sets of new graduates. The deans were eager to hear from us what public libraries were looking for these days.
After a while, I started to feel a little sorry for the deans. It turns out that all we wanted them to do was give us smart, emotionally intelligent, and experienced project managers who not only had a good handle on their own high ethics and professional standards, but also inspired others to be as good as they were.
To put it another way, what we wanted couldn't be simpler. We just wanted them to guarantee that we would never make a hiring mistake again.
The problem, of course, is that such an expectation is utterly unreasonable. No matter how good any new professional may be, the hiring organization still bears a lot of responsibility.
Professional programs impart a body of theory. They provide an introduction to a career.
The library provides something else: the real career.
The first test of theory against practice. The first big thrill. The first big disappointment. The first day when you think you actually get what's going on.
That magic moment when you see something new, something not only good, but something better than anything any of your professors talked about. You see a path to making a difference.
The day when you are tested, and you choose.
It's not all good. No matter how fine the library might be, it will still allow dysfunctional and even destructive behavior. Sometimes, that's because those in charge of the library really don't know such behavior is going on. Sometimes, that's because library administrators (and staff!) lack the courage to confront it.
Sometimes, libraries are guided by a compelling vision. Sometimes, there's nothing but expediency and crass opportunism.
Yet I believe that most librarians are in it for love. We live to serve, with intelligence, tenacity, great dollops of humor, and a genuine love of learning. We want the people whose lives we touch to be a little richer, a little better for it.
We want everyone -- the infant, the toddler, the preschooler, the elementary student, the secondary student, the college student or tradesman, the business person or social sector worker, the parent, the teacher, the consumer, the senior -- to know that the library is his or her birthright, sanctuary, workshop, and playground. We offer the accumulated knowledge of the human race.
I've been giving a lot of thought lately to what's next in my life. I've decided that maybe I should be giving more attention to those just entering the profession that has given so much to me.
Oh, and for those of you over the age of 50 who do not happen to have the great joy of being librarians, maybe you want to think about how you will offer a hand up to the gifted generation behind you in your own profession.
Do you see them?
--
LaRue's Views are his own.
We library directors had some ideas about the desirable skill sets of new graduates. The deans were eager to hear from us what public libraries were looking for these days.
After a while, I started to feel a little sorry for the deans. It turns out that all we wanted them to do was give us smart, emotionally intelligent, and experienced project managers who not only had a good handle on their own high ethics and professional standards, but also inspired others to be as good as they were.
To put it another way, what we wanted couldn't be simpler. We just wanted them to guarantee that we would never make a hiring mistake again.
The problem, of course, is that such an expectation is utterly unreasonable. No matter how good any new professional may be, the hiring organization still bears a lot of responsibility.
Professional programs impart a body of theory. They provide an introduction to a career.
The library provides something else: the real career.
The first test of theory against practice. The first big thrill. The first big disappointment. The first day when you think you actually get what's going on.
That magic moment when you see something new, something not only good, but something better than anything any of your professors talked about. You see a path to making a difference.
The day when you are tested, and you choose.
It's not all good. No matter how fine the library might be, it will still allow dysfunctional and even destructive behavior. Sometimes, that's because those in charge of the library really don't know such behavior is going on. Sometimes, that's because library administrators (and staff!) lack the courage to confront it.
Sometimes, libraries are guided by a compelling vision. Sometimes, there's nothing but expediency and crass opportunism.
Yet I believe that most librarians are in it for love. We live to serve, with intelligence, tenacity, great dollops of humor, and a genuine love of learning. We want the people whose lives we touch to be a little richer, a little better for it.
We want everyone -- the infant, the toddler, the preschooler, the elementary student, the secondary student, the college student or tradesman, the business person or social sector worker, the parent, the teacher, the consumer, the senior -- to know that the library is his or her birthright, sanctuary, workshop, and playground. We offer the accumulated knowledge of the human race.
I've been giving a lot of thought lately to what's next in my life. I've decided that maybe I should be giving more attention to those just entering the profession that has given so much to me.
Oh, and for those of you over the age of 50 who do not happen to have the great joy of being librarians, maybe you want to think about how you will offer a hand up to the gifted generation behind you in your own profession.
Do you see them?
--
LaRue's Views are his own.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
November 20, 2008 - Veterans Services at the Library
By Rochelle Logan, Associate Director of Research & Collections
Of all the phases in my life, the time I am most proud of was spent as an Air Force spouse. My husband was a pilot, now retired. We moved eight times all over the US and overseas until we landed in Colorado in 1992. It was a wonderful life, but also a hard one. We never knew where the military would send us next. Will it be in a part of the country or world we’d rather not live? How will the children take another move?
There were plenty of times I was anxious and lonely and those were during times of peace for our country. Now I have friends whose sons and daughters are serving in Iraq and Afghanistan. Military and their families deserve our thanks and support from our government. The GI Bill is one way the United States helps veterans.
Douglas County Libraries is participating in a pilot project with the American Library Association to provide information to veterans about the new GI Bill. The American Legion and Congress overhauled veterans’ education benefits and created the Post 9/11 GI Bill, which is scheduled for implementation on August 1, 2009. People eligible under this new Bill served after September 10, 2001.
In addition to the Post 9/11 GI Bill, we still have the Montgomery GI Bill, the Montgomery GI Bill-Selected Reserve and the Reserve Education Assistance Program. Confused yet?
If you think you are eligible for any of the four GI Bills, come to one of the Douglas County Libraries to get help from a librarian and pick up information. You can also visit http://www.wo.ala.org/veteransinfo. Some of the costs you might have covered include tuition, fees, and housing allowances. With the cost of a four-year education skyrocketing, these benefits are especially valuable.
We want to get the word out to all veterans to check on their GI Bill eligibility. Thirty percent of active-duty service members never use their veterans’ education benefits after leaving the military. And only seven percent between 1997 and 2006 used up all their benefits. Let’s improve those numbers.
Another venture I want to mention is the “Speaking to the Future: Voices from the Past” project in the library’s Douglas County History Research Center (DCHRC). The DCHRC is looking for veterans and civilians with wartime service who want to be interviewed and have their oral history become a part of the Library of Congress’ Veterans History Project. The importance of collecting and preserving stories of military service cannot be underestimated.
Does your grandfather or aunt tell you stories about their wartime experience that would someday be lost? My father-in-law stepped on a land mine in France during WWII. His telling of that day and being saved by a French farmer is absolutely riveting. Dad was interviewed in San Diego for the Library of Congress project. I encourage you or your family members to do the same.
If you would like more information about sharing your story, call the DCHRC at 303-688-7730.
This month we honor our veterans and their families. I encourage you take the time to thank your friends who are or were in the armed forces.
Of all the phases in my life, the time I am most proud of was spent as an Air Force spouse. My husband was a pilot, now retired. We moved eight times all over the US and overseas until we landed in Colorado in 1992. It was a wonderful life, but also a hard one. We never knew where the military would send us next. Will it be in a part of the country or world we’d rather not live? How will the children take another move?
There were plenty of times I was anxious and lonely and those were during times of peace for our country. Now I have friends whose sons and daughters are serving in Iraq and Afghanistan. Military and their families deserve our thanks and support from our government. The GI Bill is one way the United States helps veterans.
Douglas County Libraries is participating in a pilot project with the American Library Association to provide information to veterans about the new GI Bill. The American Legion and Congress overhauled veterans’ education benefits and created the Post 9/11 GI Bill, which is scheduled for implementation on August 1, 2009. People eligible under this new Bill served after September 10, 2001.
In addition to the Post 9/11 GI Bill, we still have the Montgomery GI Bill, the Montgomery GI Bill-Selected Reserve and the Reserve Education Assistance Program. Confused yet?
If you think you are eligible for any of the four GI Bills, come to one of the Douglas County Libraries to get help from a librarian and pick up information. You can also visit http://www.wo.ala.org/veteransinfo. Some of the costs you might have covered include tuition, fees, and housing allowances. With the cost of a four-year education skyrocketing, these benefits are especially valuable.
We want to get the word out to all veterans to check on their GI Bill eligibility. Thirty percent of active-duty service members never use their veterans’ education benefits after leaving the military. And only seven percent between 1997 and 2006 used up all their benefits. Let’s improve those numbers.
Another venture I want to mention is the “Speaking to the Future: Voices from the Past” project in the library’s Douglas County History Research Center (DCHRC). The DCHRC is looking for veterans and civilians with wartime service who want to be interviewed and have their oral history become a part of the Library of Congress’ Veterans History Project. The importance of collecting and preserving stories of military service cannot be underestimated.
Does your grandfather or aunt tell you stories about their wartime experience that would someday be lost? My father-in-law stepped on a land mine in France during WWII. His telling of that day and being saved by a French farmer is absolutely riveting. Dad was interviewed in San Diego for the Library of Congress project. I encourage you or your family members to do the same.
If you would like more information about sharing your story, call the DCHRC at 303-688-7730.
This month we honor our veterans and their families. I encourage you take the time to thank your friends who are or were in the armed forces.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
November 13, 2008 - test your civic engagement
A year ago, after the 2007 election, I did something I hadn't done before: took a vacation, all by myself, to a place where I knew no one.
Last year, it was Milwaukee. I rented a cheap hotel room close to Lake Michigan. And I spent several days walking the shore, walking the city, walking and walking and walking.
When I got back, my wife asked me, "So who did you talk to?" Usually when I travel, I return with lots of stories. And that's when I realized that at least during the Milwaukee part of my travels, I really hadn't talked to anybody, other than to check into the hotel, or to order a meal. I had no stories.
I returned, I think, better than when I'd left. I had found my center. Sometimes you just need absolute quiet and physical release. You need solitude.
And if that's one side of the equation, here's another: civic engagement. I know that after the recent, interminable election process, no one wants to think about this.
But I ran across a fascinating chart on the Wikipedia entry for "civic engagement." (I'll take up some other time the debate about whether or not Wikipedia, open to all for revision, can be considered a reliable source of information. Briefly, yes. Not infallible -- but neither is an encyclopedia.)
The article, as of November 1, 2008 anyhow, spells out 19 objective measures. So here's a family exercise. Lay this out after dinner and give yourself a score -- how many of the following did you participate in over the past 12 months?
The 19 measures fall into three categories (with a few clarifying notions of my own in parentheses).
Civic
* community problem solving (trash pickup, recycling, latchkey kids)
* regular volunteering for a non-electoral organization
* active membership in a group or association
* participation in fund-raising run/walk/ride
* other fundraising for charity
Electoral
* regular voting
* persuading others to vote
* displaying buttons, signs, stickers
* campaign contributions
* volunteering for candidate or political organizations
Political Voice
* contacting officials
* contacting the print media
* contacting the broadcast media
* protesting
* email petitions
* written petitions
* boycotting (avoiding products because of their political affiliations)
* buycotting (selecting products because of their political affiliations)
* canvassing (direct contact with people, handing out flyers, etc.)
I find this very clever and precise: they are measures of what is also called "social capital." The idea is simple. The more people that are "connected" to their communities, the healthier both the people and the communities are liable to be. "Health" isn't just vagueness. There are fewer crimes, less disruption to life and property. People are literally healthier. They have fewer doctor visits. They live longer.
Numerous studies have found that if you want to improve the quality of your life both mentally and physically, the best strategy is greater engagement with the lives of those around you.
By your choices the community is made, or undone. These are some of the measures.
Last year, it was Milwaukee. I rented a cheap hotel room close to Lake Michigan. And I spent several days walking the shore, walking the city, walking and walking and walking.
When I got back, my wife asked me, "So who did you talk to?" Usually when I travel, I return with lots of stories. And that's when I realized that at least during the Milwaukee part of my travels, I really hadn't talked to anybody, other than to check into the hotel, or to order a meal. I had no stories.
I returned, I think, better than when I'd left. I had found my center. Sometimes you just need absolute quiet and physical release. You need solitude.
And if that's one side of the equation, here's another: civic engagement. I know that after the recent, interminable election process, no one wants to think about this.
But I ran across a fascinating chart on the Wikipedia entry for "civic engagement." (I'll take up some other time the debate about whether or not Wikipedia, open to all for revision, can be considered a reliable source of information. Briefly, yes. Not infallible -- but neither is an encyclopedia.)
The article, as of November 1, 2008 anyhow, spells out 19 objective measures. So here's a family exercise. Lay this out after dinner and give yourself a score -- how many of the following did you participate in over the past 12 months?
The 19 measures fall into three categories (with a few clarifying notions of my own in parentheses).
Civic
* community problem solving (trash pickup, recycling, latchkey kids)
* regular volunteering for a non-electoral organization
* active membership in a group or association
* participation in fund-raising run/walk/ride
* other fundraising for charity
Electoral
* regular voting
* persuading others to vote
* displaying buttons, signs, stickers
* campaign contributions
* volunteering for candidate or political organizations
Political Voice
* contacting officials
* contacting the print media
* contacting the broadcast media
* protesting
* email petitions
* written petitions
* boycotting (avoiding products because of their political affiliations)
* buycotting (selecting products because of their political affiliations)
* canvassing (direct contact with people, handing out flyers, etc.)
I find this very clever and precise: they are measures of what is also called "social capital." The idea is simple. The more people that are "connected" to their communities, the healthier both the people and the communities are liable to be. "Health" isn't just vagueness. There are fewer crimes, less disruption to life and property. People are literally healthier. They have fewer doctor visits. They live longer.
Numerous studies have found that if you want to improve the quality of your life both mentally and physically, the best strategy is greater engagement with the lives of those around you.
By your choices the community is made, or undone. These are some of the measures.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
November 6, 2008 - it takes us all to make a community
Back in the day, I lived for a while as a wandering poet. The pay was terrible, but the experience was rich.
At one point, I found myself at the home of a newspaper publisher. He admitted that he did not understand poetry at all, or know how to tell if it was any good. So we got to talking. How, I asked him, did he recognize good writing in journalism?
He started rattling off some characteristics. Good newspaper writing was clear, fresh, free of cliches. It had immediacy and structure. It told a story. It was poignant but not sentimental.
And when he was done, I said "the same thing is true of good poetry." Every discipline has its quirks, of course, but by comparing samples of poetry to samples of newspaper writings, we quickly found that we had more in common than he'd thought: good writing is good writing.
Much the same thing is true in the worlds of for-profit, and not-for-profit. The end is different -- newspapers and libraries, for instance, have discrete purposes. But when you take a look at how private sector and public sector organizations operate, it again doesn't take long to identify some commonalities.
Successful organizations are clear about their purpose. They treat their customers -- and their staff -- well.
Successful organizations last. Yes, current quarter and annual performance matter. But great organizations stick around.
Successful organizations play well with others.
And that is a message that may need some underscoring after this endless election season. We need each other, all of us.
I'm writing this column before I know the results of any of the elections. But I do know this: Watching the library campaign in 2008 was a revelation to me. I met so many people whose deep and infectious passion for the power of literacy, for the value of the public library, profoundly impressed me.
They also created their own organization, that peculiar beast called a citizen's campaign committee. I'd like to publicly thank campaign CEO Justin VanLandschoot, Glen Matthes, Jim Anest, Steve Parry, Karin Piper, Warren Lynge, Sandra Kip, Bob Hanak, David Williams, Meg Truhler, Perry and Lindsay Kamel, Corbin Wagoner, Krista Simonson, and my incomparable Board of Trustees (Stevan Strain, Barbara Dash, Mark Weston, Bob McLaughlin, Demetria Heath, Amy Hunt, and David Starck). They -- and many more! -- gave literally thousands of hours to telling the library story, poking signs in the ground, raising money for mailings and postcards, showing up at rallies, or just chatting up their friends and neighbors.
They all underscored for me the simple truth that public institutions-- and their futures -- belong to the public. I am deeply grateful to them.
And you know what? I'm grateful to the other campaigns, too. Our shared community invested in a host of efforts to affect the future, to make it something closer to what we imagine it should be.
Some of those efforts will now go forwards. Others will have to regroup. But in the months to come let's remember to be kind. We are not only writing our own story, our own poems, we're writing each other's, too. Some of it is good writing.
---
LaRue's Views are his own.
At one point, I found myself at the home of a newspaper publisher. He admitted that he did not understand poetry at all, or know how to tell if it was any good. So we got to talking. How, I asked him, did he recognize good writing in journalism?
He started rattling off some characteristics. Good newspaper writing was clear, fresh, free of cliches. It had immediacy and structure. It told a story. It was poignant but not sentimental.
And when he was done, I said "the same thing is true of good poetry." Every discipline has its quirks, of course, but by comparing samples of poetry to samples of newspaper writings, we quickly found that we had more in common than he'd thought: good writing is good writing.
Much the same thing is true in the worlds of for-profit, and not-for-profit. The end is different -- newspapers and libraries, for instance, have discrete purposes. But when you take a look at how private sector and public sector organizations operate, it again doesn't take long to identify some commonalities.
Successful organizations are clear about their purpose. They treat their customers -- and their staff -- well.
Successful organizations last. Yes, current quarter and annual performance matter. But great organizations stick around.
Successful organizations play well with others.
And that is a message that may need some underscoring after this endless election season. We need each other, all of us.
I'm writing this column before I know the results of any of the elections. But I do know this: Watching the library campaign in 2008 was a revelation to me. I met so many people whose deep and infectious passion for the power of literacy, for the value of the public library, profoundly impressed me.
They also created their own organization, that peculiar beast called a citizen's campaign committee. I'd like to publicly thank campaign CEO Justin VanLandschoot, Glen Matthes, Jim Anest, Steve Parry, Karin Piper, Warren Lynge, Sandra Kip, Bob Hanak, David Williams, Meg Truhler, Perry and Lindsay Kamel, Corbin Wagoner, Krista Simonson, and my incomparable Board of Trustees (Stevan Strain, Barbara Dash, Mark Weston, Bob McLaughlin, Demetria Heath, Amy Hunt, and David Starck). They -- and many more! -- gave literally thousands of hours to telling the library story, poking signs in the ground, raising money for mailings and postcards, showing up at rallies, or just chatting up their friends and neighbors.
They all underscored for me the simple truth that public institutions-- and their futures -- belong to the public. I am deeply grateful to them.
And you know what? I'm grateful to the other campaigns, too. Our shared community invested in a host of efforts to affect the future, to make it something closer to what we imagine it should be.
Some of those efforts will now go forwards. Others will have to regroup. But in the months to come let's remember to be kind. We are not only writing our own story, our own poems, we're writing each other's, too. Some of it is good writing.
---
LaRue's Views are his own.
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