Hi Alicia -- This is Ken from The Herald Sports department.
I was reading your column and have the following comment. I hope you don't think I'm being critical but if I don't tell you, maybe nobody would.
"You're a trooper," I believe, should be, "You're a trouper."
Merriam-Webster says:
: Trouper -- a person who deals with and persists through difficulty or hardship without complaint. You're a real trouper to wait so long.
I used the phrase recently, thought about it, checked it out and I was glad I did.
*****
Good point! And one I should've made in my column. I'll post your comment on my blog archive of my columns, if you don't mind.
I actually copied the phrase directly from the "101 Ways" poster I was looking at, but I should've checked, as you did, on the spelling. For a poster I was critiquing, trusting the spelling to be right was obviously trusting too much!
Alicia.
Friday, December 26, 2008
12/26/08: Wondering what to say? Praise the effort.
You may think me a bah-humbugger after my past two or three columns warning you off of things you shouldn’t say, when here we are in the middle of the jolliest time of year — the holidays.
You’d be partly right. Instead of eggnog, for instance, I’ve been drinking diet fruit punch. Not much holiday spirit in that.
But I don’t intend to leave you holding your tongue into the new year: Here, finally, is the column that tells you what to say instead of just what to avoid saying. This one’s all about praise.
Way to go! You made it — and so did I! High fives all around. And that haircut looks great on you, by the way. Most people couldn’t pull it off, but on you, it works. Not that it’s strange or anything, just, um — so how about this weather we’re having, eh?
While I think my firsthand experience qualifies me as an expert on things you shouldn’t say, I thought we’d all be better off if I did a little research on how to praise properly.
I consulted one of those posters of "101 Ways to Praise A Child," hoping a quick fix would do the trick.
From "bingo" to "you’re a winner," though, I saw praise that would work only in particular situations: "you learned it right" wouldn’t be very helpful, for instance, in encouraging a kid struggling with math to persevere past the two-plus-two-equals-five stage. And I have a hard time imagining myself saying "hot dog!" unless I’m actually handing one to someone.
I memorized a few and experimented with them anyway. In general, my attempts to praise led to confusion, neck-straining (as friends looked around for the promised hot dogs: "Where are they? I’m getting hungry") and eventual disappointment ("Well, now I wish I had one") rather than increased self esteem.
Maybe a new vocabulary wasn’t enough; I needed a new theory.
And — hot dog! — I found one.
An (actual) experiment in praise performed by psychologist Carol Dweck and her team at Columbia University found that acknowledging effort, rather than innate talent, works. In the experiment, two groups of fifth-graders were given an easy test. One group of kids was told they had done well because they were smart; the other group was told they had done well because they worked hard.
When they were all given the opportunity to take a harder test, or stick to the same level of difficulty, the majority of the "smart" kids chose to remain at the same level. Ninety percent of the "hardworking" kids chose the harder test — and then worked harder.
Not only did the "hardworking" group have a more positive attitude toward the tests and their own efforts, but when retested, they improved their original scores by about 30 percent. The "smart" kids did worse by about 20 percent.
I went back to the 101 Ways poster to see how many of the phrases I’d learned fell into the "you’re smart!" category. There were a few that would have to be axed, in addition to "you figured it out," "you’re catching on," and "A+ job," which are based on results rather than effort.
There were also a lot of generalities, such as "neat," "super work," or "wow," which aren’t as effective as specifics.
Here’s what to remember about praise, then: the more focused on specific efforts, the more effective.
So in the spirit of the season, thanks for taking the time to look over this column, reader. You’re a real trooper.
How was it — good? Let me know; your praise could help me write an even better column next week.
You’d be partly right. Instead of eggnog, for instance, I’ve been drinking diet fruit punch. Not much holiday spirit in that.
But I don’t intend to leave you holding your tongue into the new year: Here, finally, is the column that tells you what to say instead of just what to avoid saying. This one’s all about praise.
Way to go! You made it — and so did I! High fives all around. And that haircut looks great on you, by the way. Most people couldn’t pull it off, but on you, it works. Not that it’s strange or anything, just, um — so how about this weather we’re having, eh?
While I think my firsthand experience qualifies me as an expert on things you shouldn’t say, I thought we’d all be better off if I did a little research on how to praise properly.
I consulted one of those posters of "101 Ways to Praise A Child," hoping a quick fix would do the trick.
From "bingo" to "you’re a winner," though, I saw praise that would work only in particular situations: "you learned it right" wouldn’t be very helpful, for instance, in encouraging a kid struggling with math to persevere past the two-plus-two-equals-five stage. And I have a hard time imagining myself saying "hot dog!" unless I’m actually handing one to someone.
I memorized a few and experimented with them anyway. In general, my attempts to praise led to confusion, neck-straining (as friends looked around for the promised hot dogs: "Where are they? I’m getting hungry") and eventual disappointment ("Well, now I wish I had one") rather than increased self esteem.
Maybe a new vocabulary wasn’t enough; I needed a new theory.
And — hot dog! — I found one.
An (actual) experiment in praise performed by psychologist Carol Dweck and her team at Columbia University found that acknowledging effort, rather than innate talent, works. In the experiment, two groups of fifth-graders were given an easy test. One group of kids was told they had done well because they were smart; the other group was told they had done well because they worked hard.
When they were all given the opportunity to take a harder test, or stick to the same level of difficulty, the majority of the "smart" kids chose to remain at the same level. Ninety percent of the "hardworking" kids chose the harder test — and then worked harder.
Not only did the "hardworking" group have a more positive attitude toward the tests and their own efforts, but when retested, they improved their original scores by about 30 percent. The "smart" kids did worse by about 20 percent.
I went back to the 101 Ways poster to see how many of the phrases I’d learned fell into the "you’re smart!" category. There were a few that would have to be axed, in addition to "you figured it out," "you’re catching on," and "A+ job," which are based on results rather than effort.
There were also a lot of generalities, such as "neat," "super work," or "wow," which aren’t as effective as specifics.
Here’s what to remember about praise, then: the more focused on specific efforts, the more effective.
So in the spirit of the season, thanks for taking the time to look over this column, reader. You’re a real trooper.
How was it — good? Let me know; your praise could help me write an even better column next week.
Friday, December 19, 2008
12/19/08: A bit of sound advice, and why not to give it
As promised, here are some phrases to avoid when giving advice. Remember this list when your relatives are in town.
"Calm down."
As a joke: You can say this to someone who is sitting quietly, reading a book or otherwise not bothering you in any way. This is especially effective used on someone who is never excitable, such as an entomologist.
For real: Either the person you’re saying this to is actually upset about something, in which case your saying "calm down" will almost certainly fail to have the desired effect, or they don’t perceive themselves as being worked up and you’ve succeeded in pointing out their embarrassing volume level.
Perhaps instead, you could say "You’re being loud and embarrassing me, which is just as important as the fact that I stole your credit cards. Have a little self-respect!"
"Stop worrying."
As a joke: Repeat this phrase at increasing volume, again when the person you’re speaking to does not appear to be worrying at all. Escalation is key.
For real: Telling a worrier to stop worrying will have the opposite of the intended effect, since you’ve now shown them you are not willing to share the necessary work of preventing disaster through worrying it away. Now they’ll have to do your part of the worrying, too.
The only way to unclench worrywarts is to beat them at their own game. For every new anxiety they mention, respond, eyes wide with concern, "I know — we’re probably all going to die! Probably from this!"
If they object, up the ante until they give up: Santa won’t come this year; zombie robots will doom us all to a life of telemarketing; "owls will deafen us with their incessant hooting"; etc.
"Chill out."
Var. "calm down" — see previous entry.
"Don’t do anything stupid."
As a joke: This phrase functions best in response to someone’s announcement that they’re about to do something completely reasonable and necessary, such as wash the dishes.
For real: The person you’re advising has probably already decided to do something stupid by the time you utter this phrase. Your advice only indicates your disapproval at that point, making it less likely you’ll get a front-row seat for the ensuing disaster.
It’s also possible that the advisee is still on the fence; in this case, the phrase only distances you from the person you’re trying to convince. Like worriers, people about to act stupidly usually don’t recognize that what they’re going to do is stupid. Even if they do, most people don’t like to be reminded of their own capacity for stupidity, despite its humanitywide prevalence.
Instead of telling the advisee not to be stupid, then, bring their focus around to possible actions or ideas that may be smart: "let’s mop the kitchen floor," "how about getting some ice cream" or "why don’t you adopt that pet tortoise you’ve always wanted, instead" may get the advisee in a better frame of mind.
"Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do."
As a joke: This works best if you are a person of extremes — either extremely straight-laced or a daredevil.
For real: This phrase has one advantage over other typical advice phrases, which is that it reveals the true raison d’etre of advice-giving: to get the advisee to act exactly as you feel you would act in a given situation.
Anyone reaching the point of seriously uttering this phrase should stop speaking immediately and seek help.
After you’ve received your share of advice, you should be able to return to the previous conversation, knowing better.
"Calm down."
As a joke: You can say this to someone who is sitting quietly, reading a book or otherwise not bothering you in any way. This is especially effective used on someone who is never excitable, such as an entomologist.
For real: Either the person you’re saying this to is actually upset about something, in which case your saying "calm down" will almost certainly fail to have the desired effect, or they don’t perceive themselves as being worked up and you’ve succeeded in pointing out their embarrassing volume level.
Perhaps instead, you could say "You’re being loud and embarrassing me, which is just as important as the fact that I stole your credit cards. Have a little self-respect!"
"Stop worrying."
As a joke: Repeat this phrase at increasing volume, again when the person you’re speaking to does not appear to be worrying at all. Escalation is key.
For real: Telling a worrier to stop worrying will have the opposite of the intended effect, since you’ve now shown them you are not willing to share the necessary work of preventing disaster through worrying it away. Now they’ll have to do your part of the worrying, too.
The only way to unclench worrywarts is to beat them at their own game. For every new anxiety they mention, respond, eyes wide with concern, "I know — we’re probably all going to die! Probably from this!"
If they object, up the ante until they give up: Santa won’t come this year; zombie robots will doom us all to a life of telemarketing; "owls will deafen us with their incessant hooting"; etc.
"Chill out."
Var. "calm down" — see previous entry.
"Don’t do anything stupid."
As a joke: This phrase functions best in response to someone’s announcement that they’re about to do something completely reasonable and necessary, such as wash the dishes.
For real: The person you’re advising has probably already decided to do something stupid by the time you utter this phrase. Your advice only indicates your disapproval at that point, making it less likely you’ll get a front-row seat for the ensuing disaster.
It’s also possible that the advisee is still on the fence; in this case, the phrase only distances you from the person you’re trying to convince. Like worriers, people about to act stupidly usually don’t recognize that what they’re going to do is stupid. Even if they do, most people don’t like to be reminded of their own capacity for stupidity, despite its humanitywide prevalence.
Instead of telling the advisee not to be stupid, then, bring their focus around to possible actions or ideas that may be smart: "let’s mop the kitchen floor," "how about getting some ice cream" or "why don’t you adopt that pet tortoise you’ve always wanted, instead" may get the advisee in a better frame of mind.
"Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do."
As a joke: This works best if you are a person of extremes — either extremely straight-laced or a daredevil.
For real: This phrase has one advantage over other typical advice phrases, which is that it reveals the true raison d’etre of advice-giving: to get the advisee to act exactly as you feel you would act in a given situation.
Anyone reaching the point of seriously uttering this phrase should stop speaking immediately and seek help.
After you’ve received your share of advice, you should be able to return to the previous conversation, knowing better.
Friday, December 12, 2008
12/12/08: Some practical advice about what not to say
The holidays can be stressful — that’s so obvious, it’s become a cliche. So I’m not going to write about that.
Rather than pontificate on how to de-stress and “just let go” when the urge to Martha-Stewartize your home hits you right before that family get-together, I’m going to give you some practical advice on making conversation with your guests once they’ve arrived.
I started last week by helping you streamline the process of complaining, introducing some scales to help you express your unhappiness more efficiently. Without lengthy stories of how busy you’ve been this holiday season (see frazzlement scale) as filler, you may find yourself with more talking time.
You can talk about almost anything you want in that time: the weather, a local sports team, the upcoming presidential election (2012).
But whatever your topic, there are some phrases you should avoid using, except as a joke. I’ll explain for each how you might use them humorously, and why and how to avoid them under other circumstances.
“No offense, but ...”
As a joke: You can use this phrase when you are sure the listeners agree with you, if you follow with something obviously offensive. This is funny when it is directed at a famous figure everyone finds annoying, such as Scott “Carrot Top” Thompson; otherwise, it is cruel.
For real: You will never fail to offend if you begin your remarks with this phrase. Upon hearing it, listeners will immediately begin being offended.Instead of feigning respect for the person to whom you are speaking, then, you might try some refreshing honesty: “I was just thinking something rotten about you and wanted to let you know” or “I feel an obligation to the world at large to tell you to take a bath/discipline your child/get off my property.”Alternatively, you could bite your tongue and say nothing.
“You’re not ugly.”
As a joke: Never use this as a joke.
For real: This reassurance is especially useless when it is unsolicited. If someone is sitting there, minding her own business, and you look over and say, “You’re not ugly,” you’re implying you had been thinking she was. (And anyway, who asked you?)
It is also useless to say this to someone fishing for a compliment. In fact, there are really only two ways to deal with someone complaining “I’m ugly/fat/too obsessed with reality TV:” The first is to go over and say, if you can say it honestly, “Not to me. To me, you’re beautiful/exactly the right size/a ‘TV enthusiast.’”
The second, which is the one I usually choose, is to sit back and say “Well, I’ve always thought so.”
“Really?”
As a joke: You can say this to point out that whatever has just been said is obvious. Take care to select the proper “sarcastic voice,” or people will think you’re legitimately offended. Maybe you should practice first.
For real: The trouble with this word is that it implies a lack of belief in what has just been said.
At some point all of us, however diligently we struggle to avoid it, will be surprised by some statement and blurt out “really?” in response. It’s best to try to cover up the slight of the word by immediately following it with what we really meant, i.e., “I’m surprised!” or “That’s crazy!” or “What do you mean a telephone pole has fallen on my car?”
Next week, I’ll help you out on giving unsolicited advice. (Try not to give any advice until then.)
Rather than pontificate on how to de-stress and “just let go” when the urge to Martha-Stewartize your home hits you right before that family get-together, I’m going to give you some practical advice on making conversation with your guests once they’ve arrived.
I started last week by helping you streamline the process of complaining, introducing some scales to help you express your unhappiness more efficiently. Without lengthy stories of how busy you’ve been this holiday season (see frazzlement scale) as filler, you may find yourself with more talking time.
You can talk about almost anything you want in that time: the weather, a local sports team, the upcoming presidential election (2012).
But whatever your topic, there are some phrases you should avoid using, except as a joke. I’ll explain for each how you might use them humorously, and why and how to avoid them under other circumstances.
“No offense, but ...”
As a joke: You can use this phrase when you are sure the listeners agree with you, if you follow with something obviously offensive. This is funny when it is directed at a famous figure everyone finds annoying, such as Scott “Carrot Top” Thompson; otherwise, it is cruel.
For real: You will never fail to offend if you begin your remarks with this phrase. Upon hearing it, listeners will immediately begin being offended.Instead of feigning respect for the person to whom you are speaking, then, you might try some refreshing honesty: “I was just thinking something rotten about you and wanted to let you know” or “I feel an obligation to the world at large to tell you to take a bath/discipline your child/get off my property.”Alternatively, you could bite your tongue and say nothing.
“You’re not ugly.”
As a joke: Never use this as a joke.
For real: This reassurance is especially useless when it is unsolicited. If someone is sitting there, minding her own business, and you look over and say, “You’re not ugly,” you’re implying you had been thinking she was. (And anyway, who asked you?)
It is also useless to say this to someone fishing for a compliment. In fact, there are really only two ways to deal with someone complaining “I’m ugly/fat/too obsessed with reality TV:” The first is to go over and say, if you can say it honestly, “Not to me. To me, you’re beautiful/exactly the right size/a ‘TV enthusiast.’”
The second, which is the one I usually choose, is to sit back and say “Well, I’ve always thought so.”
“Really?”
As a joke: You can say this to point out that whatever has just been said is obvious. Take care to select the proper “sarcastic voice,” or people will think you’re legitimately offended. Maybe you should practice first.
For real: The trouble with this word is that it implies a lack of belief in what has just been said.
At some point all of us, however diligently we struggle to avoid it, will be surprised by some statement and blurt out “really?” in response. It’s best to try to cover up the slight of the word by immediately following it with what we really meant, i.e., “I’m surprised!” or “That’s crazy!” or “What do you mean a telephone pole has fallen on my car?”
Next week, I’ll help you out on giving unsolicited advice. (Try not to give any advice until then.)
Friday, December 5, 2008
12/5/08: When measurement fails, invent your own scale
Do you ever resent people asking how you are, then ignoring your answer? Find yourself recounting your sadness over a favorite houseplant’s death at length to an unsympathetic listener? Wish there was a more efficient way to express your true feelings?
This is the column for you, my friend. Use this system of measurements to streamline those conversations and express your unhappiness more efficiently!
Emotion: sadness
Units of measure: kittens
How it works: Levels of sadness can be expressed in units of kittens — that is, the number of kittens it would take to bring one back up to *LOL* levels of happiness.
A nine-kitten day, then, would be significantly worse than a three-kitten day. A typically happy day may warrant a zero- to one-kitten level.
Example:
Your bike was stolen: four kittens
Your car was stolen: six kittens
Your house was stolen: nine kittens
Limits: Kittens should never be counted in fractions, as the gruesomeness of the image would defeat this scale’s purpose. (Half or three-quarters of a kitten would make no one *LOL* happy.)
It is impossible to rate any day a negative-kittens day.
This scale may be less useful to those who do not like kittens or do not think they are cute.
Emotion: geographic dissatisfaction
Units of measure: absolute cultural miles
How it works: Levels of geographic dissatisfaction — that is, un/happiness with one’s geographic location based on proximity to positive factors (friends, active local "hippie" population [for hippies], ice cream parlors) or negative factors (enemies, active local "hippie" population [for Republicans], town dumps) — can be measured in absolute cultural miles (cult. mi.) from Trenton, N.J., which is the absolutely most dissatisfying place on the planet.
The geographically dissatisfied should compare their level of dissatisfaction with how they would feel if they were living in the exact geographic center of Trenton.
The more satisfied they are with the positive factors, the farther from the geographic center of Trenton they will rate that factor — the less satisfied, the closer.
Example:
All friends within walking distance: 11,500 cult. mi.
Museum within walking distance: 7,500 cult. mi.
Town dump, gelatin factory and several enemies within walking distance: three cult. mi.
Limits: Cultural miles can range from zero (the exact geographic center of Trenton) to 12,430 (the exact opposite side of the planet from Trenton).
Emotion: frazzlement due to over-busyness
Units of measure: selves
How it works: Frazzlement (anxiety) levels can be measured in the number of selves that would be required to allow you to take a Caribbean vacation without guilt.
Selves should be measured with the original-you calibrated at zero. Thus, if you are currently taking a guilt-free Caribbean vacation, your frazzlement level is at zero selves.
A typical day would require at least one self to free you for a Caribbean vacation.
Example:
You have to pick up a single jar of peanut butter from the store: one self
You have to give a dinner party for four to seven friends: four selves
You have to fill out insurance forms, pick up a child from day care, take out the trash and clean the bathroom: six selves (with three for the forms)
Limits: Particularly guilt-ridden people will find this scale useless, as they are likely incapable of taking a Caribbean vacation without guilt.
Elaborations: High numbers of selves may be translated into units of moms. One mom is worth five selves.
Requests for further emotion scales may be made via comments or e-mail.
This is the column for you, my friend. Use this system of measurements to streamline those conversations and express your unhappiness more efficiently!
Emotion: sadness
Units of measure: kittens
How it works: Levels of sadness can be expressed in units of kittens — that is, the number of kittens it would take to bring one back up to *LOL* levels of happiness.
A nine-kitten day, then, would be significantly worse than a three-kitten day. A typically happy day may warrant a zero- to one-kitten level.
Example:
Your bike was stolen: four kittens
Your car was stolen: six kittens
Your house was stolen: nine kittens
Limits: Kittens should never be counted in fractions, as the gruesomeness of the image would defeat this scale’s purpose. (Half or three-quarters of a kitten would make no one *LOL* happy.)
It is impossible to rate any day a negative-kittens day.
This scale may be less useful to those who do not like kittens or do not think they are cute.
Emotion: geographic dissatisfaction
Units of measure: absolute cultural miles
How it works: Levels of geographic dissatisfaction — that is, un/happiness with one’s geographic location based on proximity to positive factors (friends, active local "hippie" population [for hippies], ice cream parlors) or negative factors (enemies, active local "hippie" population [for Republicans], town dumps) — can be measured in absolute cultural miles (cult. mi.) from Trenton, N.J., which is the absolutely most dissatisfying place on the planet.
The geographically dissatisfied should compare their level of dissatisfaction with how they would feel if they were living in the exact geographic center of Trenton.
The more satisfied they are with the positive factors, the farther from the geographic center of Trenton they will rate that factor — the less satisfied, the closer.
Example:
All friends within walking distance: 11,500 cult. mi.
Museum within walking distance: 7,500 cult. mi.
Town dump, gelatin factory and several enemies within walking distance: three cult. mi.
Limits: Cultural miles can range from zero (the exact geographic center of Trenton) to 12,430 (the exact opposite side of the planet from Trenton).
Emotion: frazzlement due to over-busyness
Units of measure: selves
How it works: Frazzlement (anxiety) levels can be measured in the number of selves that would be required to allow you to take a Caribbean vacation without guilt.
Selves should be measured with the original-you calibrated at zero. Thus, if you are currently taking a guilt-free Caribbean vacation, your frazzlement level is at zero selves.
A typical day would require at least one self to free you for a Caribbean vacation.
Example:
You have to pick up a single jar of peanut butter from the store: one self
You have to give a dinner party for four to seven friends: four selves
You have to fill out insurance forms, pick up a child from day care, take out the trash and clean the bathroom: six selves (with three for the forms)
Limits: Particularly guilt-ridden people will find this scale useless, as they are likely incapable of taking a Caribbean vacation without guilt.
Elaborations: High numbers of selves may be translated into units of moms. One mom is worth five selves.
Requests for further emotion scales may be made via comments or e-mail.
Friday, November 28, 2008
11/28/08: Shopping for a solution? Try Goodwill toward all.
Imagine you woke up this morning and instead of the early-bird sales and requisite bleary-eyed fights over the toy of the year (remember Tickle Me Elmo?) of Black Friday, there was nothing to buy.
Or let’s say there was nothing new to buy.
What would you get your friends and family for the holidays?
The artsy among us would have it easiest, I imagine: They could paint a bunch of paintings, take a bunch of photos, write a few songs or short stories and dedicate them to multiple people from different friend groups.
The crafty could knit socks, make marmalades and scrapbook their favorite memories with such-and-such a family member or high-school buddy.
The rest of us would probably panic, until we remembered what would become the source of our salvation — that is, the Salvation Army. Consignment shops and Goodwill stores would suddenly be packed by people fighting over a Class Struggle board game, a minigrill that looks like a baseball, a mug with a recipe for onion soup printed on it. The really lucky might be able to pull an old fruitcake out of a closet or attic and re-gift it — to the really unlucky.
We’d probably search our wardrobes and basements for things we don’t need that someone else might, refashioning everything useless into “a planter.”
The effect of this kind of creating and shopping on the holidays would be that everyone would get completely unique gifts (except for the multiple dedicatees for those songs and short stories, and everyone who got a planter). Many of them would be more practical than what we’d have gotten otherwise. Some would be less, I suppose, but at least the product of panicked, last-minute closet foraging is likely to be funnier, more personal and more bizarre than what’s left at the mall on Christmas Eve.
We’d probably learn a lot. Going to Goodwill would prove to America once and for all that we have no need for the manufacture of new souvenir coffee mugs, ever. Your reluctance to give up those leg warmers and the hair crimper you haven’t used since 1988 might remind you of how fun those warmed-leg, crimped-hair times really were. In the end, we’d probably figure out that we didn’t need as much stuff as we’d thought to have a good holiday.
I can hear you more critical readers scoffing: “That’s kind of a clichéd line, Alicia. In fact, this whole idea is nothing but a slight variation on ‘The Grinch Who Stole Christmas.’
“And anyway, these aren’t the times to be thinking about shopping less, not with the economy tilting toward recession.”
Except that the point of capitalism is not to keep people gleefully spending themselves into debt; buying stuff isn’t actually patriotic. If the economy is going downhill, it’s because of our excessive and indiscriminate spending, not because we save too much. Some products, the bad ones, deserve to go unbought — even on Black Friday.
We can leave them in the stores and wait for the good ones. In the meantime, while inventors get to their inventing, we won’t mind our shelves being more sparely stocked if what we put on them is all useful or genuinely loved. We can swap and craft our way through the holidays.
In fact, we might not even feel the pinch of recession if we think about how we can use what we’ve already got instead of following fads.
Think about it: How many kids out there still play with their Tickle Me Elmos?
Couldn’t you just see him making a great planter?
Or let’s say there was nothing new to buy.
What would you get your friends and family for the holidays?
The artsy among us would have it easiest, I imagine: They could paint a bunch of paintings, take a bunch of photos, write a few songs or short stories and dedicate them to multiple people from different friend groups.
The crafty could knit socks, make marmalades and scrapbook their favorite memories with such-and-such a family member or high-school buddy.
The rest of us would probably panic, until we remembered what would become the source of our salvation — that is, the Salvation Army. Consignment shops and Goodwill stores would suddenly be packed by people fighting over a Class Struggle board game, a minigrill that looks like a baseball, a mug with a recipe for onion soup printed on it. The really lucky might be able to pull an old fruitcake out of a closet or attic and re-gift it — to the really unlucky.
We’d probably search our wardrobes and basements for things we don’t need that someone else might, refashioning everything useless into “a planter.”
The effect of this kind of creating and shopping on the holidays would be that everyone would get completely unique gifts (except for the multiple dedicatees for those songs and short stories, and everyone who got a planter). Many of them would be more practical than what we’d have gotten otherwise. Some would be less, I suppose, but at least the product of panicked, last-minute closet foraging is likely to be funnier, more personal and more bizarre than what’s left at the mall on Christmas Eve.
We’d probably learn a lot. Going to Goodwill would prove to America once and for all that we have no need for the manufacture of new souvenir coffee mugs, ever. Your reluctance to give up those leg warmers and the hair crimper you haven’t used since 1988 might remind you of how fun those warmed-leg, crimped-hair times really were. In the end, we’d probably figure out that we didn’t need as much stuff as we’d thought to have a good holiday.
I can hear you more critical readers scoffing: “That’s kind of a clichéd line, Alicia. In fact, this whole idea is nothing but a slight variation on ‘The Grinch Who Stole Christmas.’
“And anyway, these aren’t the times to be thinking about shopping less, not with the economy tilting toward recession.”
Except that the point of capitalism is not to keep people gleefully spending themselves into debt; buying stuff isn’t actually patriotic. If the economy is going downhill, it’s because of our excessive and indiscriminate spending, not because we save too much. Some products, the bad ones, deserve to go unbought — even on Black Friday.
We can leave them in the stores and wait for the good ones. In the meantime, while inventors get to their inventing, we won’t mind our shelves being more sparely stocked if what we put on them is all useful or genuinely loved. We can swap and craft our way through the holidays.
In fact, we might not even feel the pinch of recession if we think about how we can use what we’ve already got instead of following fads.
Think about it: How many kids out there still play with their Tickle Me Elmos?
Couldn’t you just see him making a great planter?
Friday, November 21, 2008
11/21/08: "Take responsibility" is not an effective answer
I’m against abortion.
But then, I don’t know anyone who considers herself “for” abortion. To my knowledge, I’ve never met a woman who was happy about having one. I suspect these women are fictional, like Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny — only, you know, evil.
So why do people who call themselves “pro-life” seem to believe in them? It’s never made sense to me that pro-life advocates appear to believe both that women seeking abortions are wicked and that they should be required to raise children.
The assumption from the right often seems to be that women who have ended up pregnant are so because they’ve made bad decisions.
OK, sure. That may sometimes be true. But even if it were true in every case, the prevailing attitude that these women should be made to “take responsibility” for their mistakes is foolish.
Now, I’m for taking responsibility. I consider myself a responsible person — almost boringly so — and wherever possible, I like to see other people holding up their ends, too.
The trouble is that this responsibility often falls exclusively on women, consumes entire lives and careers and requires more than a dutiful attitude to be executed properly — it requires love. And yet we expect women to buckle down, grit their teeth and do it anyway. Lovingly.
And alone.
This doesn’t seem very pro-lifelike to me. And it doesn’t seem very effective.
Neither does arguing that women who decide to have their children in less-than-ideal circumstances — into single-parent households, into families whose budgets are already strained beyond breaking, into abusive situations — will be suddenly swept up by “the joy of parenting” and able to overcome any obstacle. “When you hold the baby, you’ll feel great” is not an argument that puts food on the table. It doesn’t solve real problems.
If we want fewer abortions, we need to admit it’s a difficult question. There are no easy answers.
Then we need to look to ourselves to “take responsibility,” not to women in desperate or unfair circumstances.
I’m not saying women can abdicate responsibility. And I’m not talking politics here. I’m talking about us pro-lifers acting like the kind of people we say we want to be: actually pro-life.
Here’s a thought: We can have legalized abortion and still live in a country that performs none. Legalized abortion is not the problem. The need for it is. Let’s stop focusing on political solutions and work on relational ones.
Pro-lifers need to stop advocating for abstinence-only education. It’s obvious abstinence is the only foolproof method of pregnancy prevention; it’s also obvious that abstinence-only education doesn’t work. Teens in abstinence-only areas contract just as many sexually transmitted diseases and get pregnant just as often, and more often in many cases, than kids getting taught sex ed.
We also need to think hard about the other options we list for women considering abortion and ensure they’re real options, not just things we say to make ourselves feel better.We have to remember, for instance, that we care about these children when we fund food stamps and health coverage — more than we care about our taxes going up.
And while adoption is an option, the number of couples looking for children cannot possibly rival the number of children aborted every year. I say this seriously: If you’re really pro-life, next time you meet a woman thinking about abortion, consider offering to adopt her child yourself.
At the very least, thinking about it will help you see what she’s going through. At best, “when you hold the baby, you’ll feel great.”
But then, I don’t know anyone who considers herself “for” abortion. To my knowledge, I’ve never met a woman who was happy about having one. I suspect these women are fictional, like Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny — only, you know, evil.
So why do people who call themselves “pro-life” seem to believe in them? It’s never made sense to me that pro-life advocates appear to believe both that women seeking abortions are wicked and that they should be required to raise children.
The assumption from the right often seems to be that women who have ended up pregnant are so because they’ve made bad decisions.
OK, sure. That may sometimes be true. But even if it were true in every case, the prevailing attitude that these women should be made to “take responsibility” for their mistakes is foolish.
Now, I’m for taking responsibility. I consider myself a responsible person — almost boringly so — and wherever possible, I like to see other people holding up their ends, too.
The trouble is that this responsibility often falls exclusively on women, consumes entire lives and careers and requires more than a dutiful attitude to be executed properly — it requires love. And yet we expect women to buckle down, grit their teeth and do it anyway. Lovingly.
And alone.
This doesn’t seem very pro-lifelike to me. And it doesn’t seem very effective.
Neither does arguing that women who decide to have their children in less-than-ideal circumstances — into single-parent households, into families whose budgets are already strained beyond breaking, into abusive situations — will be suddenly swept up by “the joy of parenting” and able to overcome any obstacle. “When you hold the baby, you’ll feel great” is not an argument that puts food on the table. It doesn’t solve real problems.
If we want fewer abortions, we need to admit it’s a difficult question. There are no easy answers.
Then we need to look to ourselves to “take responsibility,” not to women in desperate or unfair circumstances.
I’m not saying women can abdicate responsibility. And I’m not talking politics here. I’m talking about us pro-lifers acting like the kind of people we say we want to be: actually pro-life.
Here’s a thought: We can have legalized abortion and still live in a country that performs none. Legalized abortion is not the problem. The need for it is. Let’s stop focusing on political solutions and work on relational ones.
Pro-lifers need to stop advocating for abstinence-only education. It’s obvious abstinence is the only foolproof method of pregnancy prevention; it’s also obvious that abstinence-only education doesn’t work. Teens in abstinence-only areas contract just as many sexually transmitted diseases and get pregnant just as often, and more often in many cases, than kids getting taught sex ed.
We also need to think hard about the other options we list for women considering abortion and ensure they’re real options, not just things we say to make ourselves feel better.We have to remember, for instance, that we care about these children when we fund food stamps and health coverage — more than we care about our taxes going up.
And while adoption is an option, the number of couples looking for children cannot possibly rival the number of children aborted every year. I say this seriously: If you’re really pro-life, next time you meet a woman thinking about abortion, consider offering to adopt her child yourself.
At the very least, thinking about it will help you see what she’s going through. At best, “when you hold the baby, you’ll feel great.”
Friday, November 14, 2008
11/14/08: Nowhere to settle down in modern marketplace
I spent four years after college teaching English — first to students in China, then to GED students in Washington, D.C.
I did not have the certification that would have allowed me to teach in an American public school. It may have been this fact that caused friends and relatives to ask me, on my visits to family in Connecticut, when I would be getting "a real job."
It was more likely the fact that I was a volunteer those four years, supported in China by sponsorship from those friends and relatives and in D.C. by a voluntary service and Americorps, that prompted questions of when I would settle down.
Settling down means, in part, making money. It also means sticking to one place and buckling down when "the going gets rough." Settling down means choosing one course of action — or inaction — and committing to it. Settling down is practical.
But nothing is more practical than doing what you really, really want to do. And settling down too often becomes settling.
Settling for less than what you know you’re capable of leads to misery.
Misery is not practical — it’s stupid. It’s a waste of time and effort to work at something that makes you money but makes you miserable. It’s always been a waste, but is even more of one now, when building a career means cultivating skills and abilities that can be taken with you when you change jobs.
And you will change jobs. It’s no longer a question of whether you will ever again need an updated resume, but how often you’ll need it: every year? Every six months? Some people make careers of working for temp agencies. The old paradigm of the industrial corporation earning worker loyalty by offering security is obsolete. Gone with it are the assumed advantages of "settling down."
This isn’t necessarily bad. There were advantages to a workplace that offered job security, but there are at least as many advantages to the emerging market for creative and flexible individuals — those who can multitask, who are willing to learn and can apply a variety of past experiences to a new challenge.
There are comparatively fewer advantages in the new marketplace, of course, for those still interested primarily in settling down.
We need to change our paradigms to accommodate this change. In his book "Work: Making a Living and Making a Life," Joshua Halberstam points out that "in our economy, jobs are activities, not positions; only the temporary contract is permanent." The "temporary contract" offers payment for services rendered, encourages project-driven work rather than stable position-related functions and essentially eliminates the division between "management" and "employee." In this environment, your loyalty is to yourself and developing your potential.
There’s no reason to "put in time" in the proverbial mailroom, hoping to be promoted on the basis of your long service. Recent graduates or workers dissatisfied with their job’s responsibilities or position need to become entrepreneurs, seeking out a need for skills they have or would like to develop — especially for work in a field they would enjoy.
While many fields are increasingly specialized, there’s no reason to stick to one career path, either. Most skills are transferable. Even hobbies can become careers.
I waited, as my years in China passed, and then as my time in D.C. went by, to feel ready to "settle down." I expected the desire to commit to one place or vocation to magically descend on me.
So far, it hasn’t — but considering the range of fascinating opportunities out there, I’m glad.
I did not have the certification that would have allowed me to teach in an American public school. It may have been this fact that caused friends and relatives to ask me, on my visits to family in Connecticut, when I would be getting "a real job."
It was more likely the fact that I was a volunteer those four years, supported in China by sponsorship from those friends and relatives and in D.C. by a voluntary service and Americorps, that prompted questions of when I would settle down.
Settling down means, in part, making money. It also means sticking to one place and buckling down when "the going gets rough." Settling down means choosing one course of action — or inaction — and committing to it. Settling down is practical.
But nothing is more practical than doing what you really, really want to do. And settling down too often becomes settling.
Settling for less than what you know you’re capable of leads to misery.
Misery is not practical — it’s stupid. It’s a waste of time and effort to work at something that makes you money but makes you miserable. It’s always been a waste, but is even more of one now, when building a career means cultivating skills and abilities that can be taken with you when you change jobs.
And you will change jobs. It’s no longer a question of whether you will ever again need an updated resume, but how often you’ll need it: every year? Every six months? Some people make careers of working for temp agencies. The old paradigm of the industrial corporation earning worker loyalty by offering security is obsolete. Gone with it are the assumed advantages of "settling down."
This isn’t necessarily bad. There were advantages to a workplace that offered job security, but there are at least as many advantages to the emerging market for creative and flexible individuals — those who can multitask, who are willing to learn and can apply a variety of past experiences to a new challenge.
There are comparatively fewer advantages in the new marketplace, of course, for those still interested primarily in settling down.
We need to change our paradigms to accommodate this change. In his book "Work: Making a Living and Making a Life," Joshua Halberstam points out that "in our economy, jobs are activities, not positions; only the temporary contract is permanent." The "temporary contract" offers payment for services rendered, encourages project-driven work rather than stable position-related functions and essentially eliminates the division between "management" and "employee." In this environment, your loyalty is to yourself and developing your potential.
There’s no reason to "put in time" in the proverbial mailroom, hoping to be promoted on the basis of your long service. Recent graduates or workers dissatisfied with their job’s responsibilities or position need to become entrepreneurs, seeking out a need for skills they have or would like to develop — especially for work in a field they would enjoy.
While many fields are increasingly specialized, there’s no reason to stick to one career path, either. Most skills are transferable. Even hobbies can become careers.
I waited, as my years in China passed, and then as my time in D.C. went by, to feel ready to "settle down." I expected the desire to commit to one place or vocation to magically descend on me.
So far, it hasn’t — but considering the range of fascinating opportunities out there, I’m glad.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
11/7/08: Obama did more than win; he inspired
Dear President-elect Obama,
I’m just writing to thank you for running. I know the opposition has been tough, starting with an overloaded Democratic primary. You’ve been on the road for 20 months, and that’s just the beginning of the fight you’re in for now.
I’ve never seen people so angry as some have been over your campaign, and for such strange and diverse reasons: You’re "a Muslim," you’re secretly "a terrorist," you’re "going to raise taxes," you’re "inexperienced." You’re black.
But I’ve also never felt the sense of hope and agency your campaign has created in your supporters. I’ve never met up with a group of civic-minded people who volunteer and cheer and invest themselves in the question of government the way people in my online Town Hall group do. This is something new.
To me, the best part is the sense that government isn’t some monolithic structure created to keep us from succeeding, or put on us by politicians whose ways are so strange they’re like aliens — actual aliens, not immigrants. We make up the government, and we can change it if we want to.
I suspect we’ll need that sense of agency in the next four or eight years, because I think it will be a hard road for you. People who supported and voted for McCain will be hard to win over, especially if they believe the suggestions that you’re going to destroy us all. You’ll need the supporters you gained during this campaign to continue working on behalf of your ideals.
And it’s your ideals that we love: the focus on green energy as the way to energy independence, with the recognition that this will create jobs, even if those aren’t oil or coal jobs anymore; the support for service workers with Americorps or the Peace Corps, in helping to fund their tuition and for the community members they’ll help with their service; your concern for the well-being of soldiers, from voting for the G.I. Bill to getting them out of Iraq and into the fight against al-Qaida, where they should have been in the first place.
I love hearing you talk about education. I love it when you talk about the middle class — even though I’m not yet a member of it. I love that a record number of young voters registered to vote for you. This is what I’m talking about.
Even if you turned out to be a Scientologist, a crazy tax-raiser and a robot, the damage is done. We’ve woken up to our responsibilities as Americans, out of the stupor of seven years of being told to shop more to defeat terrorism, out of the disbelief we were struck with when we learned there were no weapons of mass destruction, that we’d been asked to bail out the institutions that seemed to have stolen our 401Ks or that plenty of children were "left behind" while teachers drowned in paperwork.
(Or the most surreal moment of the past eight years for me — being told Vice President Cheney had shot his friend in the face. Satire died that day; with reality like this, who needed sarcasm?)
You’ve made me understand that it’s as much up to me as it is you. And I’m ready. I’m not going to sit back and wait for you to get things done. I’m not going to be slinging mud, and I won’t always pay attention to what you’re doing. I’ve got my own civic work to do.
I’ll update you periodically, as I’m sure you’ll let us know how it’s going in the White House.
Best wishes, President Obama.
I’m just writing to thank you for running. I know the opposition has been tough, starting with an overloaded Democratic primary. You’ve been on the road for 20 months, and that’s just the beginning of the fight you’re in for now.
I’ve never seen people so angry as some have been over your campaign, and for such strange and diverse reasons: You’re "a Muslim," you’re secretly "a terrorist," you’re "going to raise taxes," you’re "inexperienced." You’re black.
But I’ve also never felt the sense of hope and agency your campaign has created in your supporters. I’ve never met up with a group of civic-minded people who volunteer and cheer and invest themselves in the question of government the way people in my online Town Hall group do. This is something new.
To me, the best part is the sense that government isn’t some monolithic structure created to keep us from succeeding, or put on us by politicians whose ways are so strange they’re like aliens — actual aliens, not immigrants. We make up the government, and we can change it if we want to.
I suspect we’ll need that sense of agency in the next four or eight years, because I think it will be a hard road for you. People who supported and voted for McCain will be hard to win over, especially if they believe the suggestions that you’re going to destroy us all. You’ll need the supporters you gained during this campaign to continue working on behalf of your ideals.
And it’s your ideals that we love: the focus on green energy as the way to energy independence, with the recognition that this will create jobs, even if those aren’t oil or coal jobs anymore; the support for service workers with Americorps or the Peace Corps, in helping to fund their tuition and for the community members they’ll help with their service; your concern for the well-being of soldiers, from voting for the G.I. Bill to getting them out of Iraq and into the fight against al-Qaida, where they should have been in the first place.
I love hearing you talk about education. I love it when you talk about the middle class — even though I’m not yet a member of it. I love that a record number of young voters registered to vote for you. This is what I’m talking about.
Even if you turned out to be a Scientologist, a crazy tax-raiser and a robot, the damage is done. We’ve woken up to our responsibilities as Americans, out of the stupor of seven years of being told to shop more to defeat terrorism, out of the disbelief we were struck with when we learned there were no weapons of mass destruction, that we’d been asked to bail out the institutions that seemed to have stolen our 401Ks or that plenty of children were "left behind" while teachers drowned in paperwork.
(Or the most surreal moment of the past eight years for me — being told Vice President Cheney had shot his friend in the face. Satire died that day; with reality like this, who needed sarcasm?)
You’ve made me understand that it’s as much up to me as it is you. And I’m ready. I’m not going to sit back and wait for you to get things done. I’m not going to be slinging mud, and I won’t always pay attention to what you’re doing. I’ve got my own civic work to do.
I’ll update you periodically, as I’m sure you’ll let us know how it’s going in the White House.
Best wishes, President Obama.
Friday, October 31, 2008
10/31/08: Give us the message, spare us these words
In the past few months, we’ve been subjected to a lot of campaigning, much of which has become unhelpfully negative, especially recently.
I’m not interested in limiting free speech or becoming the “word police,” but from my perspective, there are some words that have lost real meaning during all this campaigning and mudslinging, and I propose a moratorium.
Here are words I think we should suspend.
Terrorist: We should stop using this word on each other. It’s just common sense that if Barack Obama wanted to destroy America the way al-Qaida operatives destroyed the World Trade Center, he would have been found out by now. We’ve had him in our sights for almost two years, and the best we’ve come up with linking him to terrorism — and domestic, not foreign terrorism, at that — is a tenuous connection to Bill Ayers, who, whatever his past, is now an honored educator.
Either Obama doesn’t have Islamist terrorist connections, or we are extremely poor detectives. If it’s the latter, we may have bigger problems on our hands than we’ve supposed.
Maverick: Besides the objection of the actual Maverick family in Texas, the word “maverick” isn’t really appropriate to describe the policies of a politician or, especially, a team of politicians. And if it is, it shouldn’t be.
We’re not electing Best Cowboy; we’re trying to elect a president, who will have to work within the system the Founding Fathers set up. Saying we’d like to go back to the original plan laid out in the Constitution isn’t “maverick”-like. It’s conservative by definition.
Defense: We should stop using this to describe anything related to the Bush Doctrine — that is, the idea pre-emptive strikes against sovereign nations are a good idea.
This is not defense.
Objections to that statement usually fall into the “best defense is a good offense” category.
OK, maybe. But we call that “a good offense.”
I also propose we stop referring to the “Star Wars” national missile defense system as “defense” until some of those missiles start actually hitting their targets.
Alien: Of course we can continue to use this word to describe E.T., but there’s no reason to continue to use it to describe immigrants. The repercussions for the global economy after America’s recent financial crises should make it clear we’re living in an interconnected world.
No human is from outer space, in other words.
Most people who object to the word worry that “alien” makes immigrants sound scary. I’m less worried that the fright factor of this word will rub off on immigrants, though, than that it will wear off through overuse, making it useless for “War of the Worlds” type movies, books and other media.
Imagine Will Smith in “Independence Day” coming toward the audience, fiery explosions in the background, for instance, to confront your hardworking neighbor or grandparent or a factory worker educated and skilled enough to perform open-heart surgery on you if you were in his country.
Not very thrilling, I’d say.
All the Joes: The opposite of “alien,” the Joes are supposed to make us feel connected to the down-home lifestyle and values they apparently represent. We’ve been introduced to all kinds of Joes: Joe the plumber, Joe Six-pack, Joe Cool, cup of joe. Maybe they do represent “real America,” but I’ve had enough of them.
Note, however, that Joe the plumber has inspired a “new” national habit of designating people by their work titles; this is Chinglish creeping into common use. I approve of that in general.
I just wish all of us regular Joes would get a rest.
I’m not interested in limiting free speech or becoming the “word police,” but from my perspective, there are some words that have lost real meaning during all this campaigning and mudslinging, and I propose a moratorium.
Here are words I think we should suspend.
Terrorist: We should stop using this word on each other. It’s just common sense that if Barack Obama wanted to destroy America the way al-Qaida operatives destroyed the World Trade Center, he would have been found out by now. We’ve had him in our sights for almost two years, and the best we’ve come up with linking him to terrorism — and domestic, not foreign terrorism, at that — is a tenuous connection to Bill Ayers, who, whatever his past, is now an honored educator.
Either Obama doesn’t have Islamist terrorist connections, or we are extremely poor detectives. If it’s the latter, we may have bigger problems on our hands than we’ve supposed.
Maverick: Besides the objection of the actual Maverick family in Texas, the word “maverick” isn’t really appropriate to describe the policies of a politician or, especially, a team of politicians. And if it is, it shouldn’t be.
We’re not electing Best Cowboy; we’re trying to elect a president, who will have to work within the system the Founding Fathers set up. Saying we’d like to go back to the original plan laid out in the Constitution isn’t “maverick”-like. It’s conservative by definition.
Defense: We should stop using this to describe anything related to the Bush Doctrine — that is, the idea pre-emptive strikes against sovereign nations are a good idea.
This is not defense.
Objections to that statement usually fall into the “best defense is a good offense” category.
OK, maybe. But we call that “a good offense.”
I also propose we stop referring to the “Star Wars” national missile defense system as “defense” until some of those missiles start actually hitting their targets.
Alien: Of course we can continue to use this word to describe E.T., but there’s no reason to continue to use it to describe immigrants. The repercussions for the global economy after America’s recent financial crises should make it clear we’re living in an interconnected world.
No human is from outer space, in other words.
Most people who object to the word worry that “alien” makes immigrants sound scary. I’m less worried that the fright factor of this word will rub off on immigrants, though, than that it will wear off through overuse, making it useless for “War of the Worlds” type movies, books and other media.
Imagine Will Smith in “Independence Day” coming toward the audience, fiery explosions in the background, for instance, to confront your hardworking neighbor or grandparent or a factory worker educated and skilled enough to perform open-heart surgery on you if you were in his country.
Not very thrilling, I’d say.
All the Joes: The opposite of “alien,” the Joes are supposed to make us feel connected to the down-home lifestyle and values they apparently represent. We’ve been introduced to all kinds of Joes: Joe the plumber, Joe Six-pack, Joe Cool, cup of joe. Maybe they do represent “real America,” but I’ve had enough of them.
Note, however, that Joe the plumber has inspired a “new” national habit of designating people by their work titles; this is Chinglish creeping into common use. I approve of that in general.
I just wish all of us regular Joes would get a rest.
Friday, October 24, 2008
10/24/08: We, and the laundry, can wait for a leader
This election season, my dishes have been piling up. My television has also been sitting dark, its about-to-be-useless antenna perched on top at an angle that makes it look forlorn; the laundry hamper, on the other hand, gets larger and less lonely by the day.
I’ve been ignoring them for the better part of a month in an attempt to learn as much as possible about our presidential candidates.
I’ve watched all three debates, of course, and spent every free night at virtual Town Hall chatting about polls and looking at graphs and Web sites.
I paused for a moment this afternoon to talk to my grandma, who declared herself — unprovoked by me — more interested in this campaign than any she could remember. She said, with an enthusiasm I found familiar, and a bit of incredulity, that she couldn’t even be sure who she was going to vote for.
I should probably look into renting a dishwasher.
It’s not much longer that I’ll be ignoring chores for election research, though, and my grandma will have to decide who her candidate will be in less than two weeks.
Whoever wins then will have a tough job, but it will be his. We’ll keep up our enthusiasm for the issues that most affect or impress us, but we’ll all go back to washing dishes and clothes and probably to watching sitcoms and prime-time dramas rather than debates, and Barack Obama and John McCain will get on with the jobs we’ve elected them to, one as president and the other as senator.
That’s pretty much how it should be, I figure.
We choose who will have the specific responsibilities of commanding the military, approving laws and signing presidential fitness awards; we don’t do these things ourselves.
I sat in a room with U.S. Rep. Chris Murphy from the 5th District two weeks ago, after he’d ridden a local bus to show support for the updates needed to accommodate riders with disabilities. He talked about sitting in front of the Stop & Shop on West Main Street in New Britain to speak with voters about the bailout when that vote was first brought before the House last month, and the responses he got, in person and in calls to his offices.
I had almost asked him at the beginning of the meeting whether he’d gotten my letter two years ago agreeing with his stance on Iraq. I would have meant it as a joke, knowing he was too busy to open and read all of his own mail.
By the end of the meeting, I would not have been surprised if he had read and remembered it.
"Oh, you’re that Alicia," he might have said, and I would have felt my face go "aw, shucks" red.
So here’s my take on a Connecticut constitutional convention: We elect our leaders to lead. And if our federal representative is accessible to us, so are our state representatives — even more so. When we don’t like what they’re doing, we write, call or protest to show it.
We don’t need a convention or a ballot initiative allowing us to vote on every issue. We can apply our enthusiasm to electing the right people into office, and once we’ve voted them in, we can tell our representatives, town council to president of the United States, what we think, and how we’d like them to vote, anytime.
The rest of the time, we’re free to attend to our own responsibilities.
Like doing the dishes.
I’ve been ignoring them for the better part of a month in an attempt to learn as much as possible about our presidential candidates.
I’ve watched all three debates, of course, and spent every free night at virtual Town Hall chatting about polls and looking at graphs and Web sites.
I paused for a moment this afternoon to talk to my grandma, who declared herself — unprovoked by me — more interested in this campaign than any she could remember. She said, with an enthusiasm I found familiar, and a bit of incredulity, that she couldn’t even be sure who she was going to vote for.
I should probably look into renting a dishwasher.
It’s not much longer that I’ll be ignoring chores for election research, though, and my grandma will have to decide who her candidate will be in less than two weeks.
Whoever wins then will have a tough job, but it will be his. We’ll keep up our enthusiasm for the issues that most affect or impress us, but we’ll all go back to washing dishes and clothes and probably to watching sitcoms and prime-time dramas rather than debates, and Barack Obama and John McCain will get on with the jobs we’ve elected them to, one as president and the other as senator.
That’s pretty much how it should be, I figure.
We choose who will have the specific responsibilities of commanding the military, approving laws and signing presidential fitness awards; we don’t do these things ourselves.
I sat in a room with U.S. Rep. Chris Murphy from the 5th District two weeks ago, after he’d ridden a local bus to show support for the updates needed to accommodate riders with disabilities. He talked about sitting in front of the Stop & Shop on West Main Street in New Britain to speak with voters about the bailout when that vote was first brought before the House last month, and the responses he got, in person and in calls to his offices.
I had almost asked him at the beginning of the meeting whether he’d gotten my letter two years ago agreeing with his stance on Iraq. I would have meant it as a joke, knowing he was too busy to open and read all of his own mail.
By the end of the meeting, I would not have been surprised if he had read and remembered it.
"Oh, you’re that Alicia," he might have said, and I would have felt my face go "aw, shucks" red.
So here’s my take on a Connecticut constitutional convention: We elect our leaders to lead. And if our federal representative is accessible to us, so are our state representatives — even more so. When we don’t like what they’re doing, we write, call or protest to show it.
We don’t need a convention or a ballot initiative allowing us to vote on every issue. We can apply our enthusiasm to electing the right people into office, and once we’ve voted them in, we can tell our representatives, town council to president of the United States, what we think, and how we’d like them to vote, anytime.
The rest of the time, we’re free to attend to our own responsibilities.
Like doing the dishes.
Friday, October 17, 2008
10/17/08: What the Internet is best at: sharing ideas
I’ve been spending a lot of time at Town Hall lately, talking politics.
Not in your town, though. I mean the national, virtual “Town Hall” for Vote Obama, an independent effort inspired by Democratic presidential candidate Barack Obama, hosted on the networking Web site Facebook.
Almost every night at 8 for the last few weeks, I’ve gone to the “Vote Obama” application on Facebook and met up with others invested in the outcome of the presidential election, many of whom come every night and some of whom are now, I’d like to think, friends.
I know I wrote last month about Internet weddings; I was against them. I still am. But this kind of thing — getting together to discuss topics of the day with people you’d never have met otherwise, from across the country — is exactly what the Internet is best at, and is, or should be, the raison d’etre of sites such as Facebook.
More than that, I believe it offers a new paradigm for future presidential elections — one that unites instead of dividing along party lines, or through fear.
Setting aside partisan politics, TV ads, the debates and even “the issues,” the Obama campaign has used technology in unprecedented ways to put out the campaign message, widen its donor base and create “grassroots” support — if a word such as “grassroots” can be used to describe a technologically based movement.
Moderated by volunteers, the Town Hall application has three panels open on your screen when you enter: One shows the names of those in the room with you, one is for text-chatting where you can type in your opinions or respond to someone else’s and the middle one contains a place for video of speakers who wait in line to speak to the room. Those who have webcams can be seen; those with only microphones settle for being heard.
It’s not only Obama supporters being heard, either. Several nights the Town Hall has seen debate from both sides of the aisle and from undecided independents.
“We’re nonpartisan. We want people from all sides to come in,” says Bill Sarris, a moderator — and he enforces civility and compliments everyone who comes for being “great Americans,” regardless of their party affiliation.
That’s what I’m saying.
So is participant Victoria Pagan, a classics professor at University of Florida. “Perhaps most importantly,” she says, “for me the Town Hall has made me want to understand the Republican/conservative point of view. Thanks to Town Hall I want to respect the other party and its ideals. I’m reminded every night that we are many, many, many: one out of many — e pluribus unum. Town Hall puts the pluribus back in unum.”
Here Obama’s campaign has inspired something that transcends the campaign itself.
As a young voter, I love that I can meet with other voters who care: listen to what Jamaar has to say, cheer when Jackie gets her microphone working again, endorse them as presidential and vice-presidential candidates for 2020. (I’ve been promised a position as secretary of state.)
For some, Vote Obama Town Hall is the only place they can go to talk about their political beliefs; they live in areas that oppose their choice of candidate or their stances on the issues. One Town Hall participant left a department store one afternoon to find a woman in the parking lot scraping the Obama bumper sticker from the participant’s car.
It’s nice to know that when something like that happens, there’s somewhere to turn.
And whoever wins in November, that will be part of Obama’s legacy.
Not in your town, though. I mean the national, virtual “Town Hall” for Vote Obama, an independent effort inspired by Democratic presidential candidate Barack Obama, hosted on the networking Web site Facebook.
Almost every night at 8 for the last few weeks, I’ve gone to the “Vote Obama” application on Facebook and met up with others invested in the outcome of the presidential election, many of whom come every night and some of whom are now, I’d like to think, friends.
I know I wrote last month about Internet weddings; I was against them. I still am. But this kind of thing — getting together to discuss topics of the day with people you’d never have met otherwise, from across the country — is exactly what the Internet is best at, and is, or should be, the raison d’etre of sites such as Facebook.
More than that, I believe it offers a new paradigm for future presidential elections — one that unites instead of dividing along party lines, or through fear.
Setting aside partisan politics, TV ads, the debates and even “the issues,” the Obama campaign has used technology in unprecedented ways to put out the campaign message, widen its donor base and create “grassroots” support — if a word such as “grassroots” can be used to describe a technologically based movement.
Moderated by volunteers, the Town Hall application has three panels open on your screen when you enter: One shows the names of those in the room with you, one is for text-chatting where you can type in your opinions or respond to someone else’s and the middle one contains a place for video of speakers who wait in line to speak to the room. Those who have webcams can be seen; those with only microphones settle for being heard.
It’s not only Obama supporters being heard, either. Several nights the Town Hall has seen debate from both sides of the aisle and from undecided independents.
“We’re nonpartisan. We want people from all sides to come in,” says Bill Sarris, a moderator — and he enforces civility and compliments everyone who comes for being “great Americans,” regardless of their party affiliation.
That’s what I’m saying.
So is participant Victoria Pagan, a classics professor at University of Florida. “Perhaps most importantly,” she says, “for me the Town Hall has made me want to understand the Republican/conservative point of view. Thanks to Town Hall I want to respect the other party and its ideals. I’m reminded every night that we are many, many, many: one out of many — e pluribus unum. Town Hall puts the pluribus back in unum.”
Here Obama’s campaign has inspired something that transcends the campaign itself.
As a young voter, I love that I can meet with other voters who care: listen to what Jamaar has to say, cheer when Jackie gets her microphone working again, endorse them as presidential and vice-presidential candidates for 2020. (I’ve been promised a position as secretary of state.)
For some, Vote Obama Town Hall is the only place they can go to talk about their political beliefs; they live in areas that oppose their choice of candidate or their stances on the issues. One Town Hall participant left a department store one afternoon to find a woman in the parking lot scraping the Obama bumper sticker from the participant’s car.
It’s nice to know that when something like that happens, there’s somewhere to turn.
And whoever wins in November, that will be part of Obama’s legacy.
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