What the hey! Contentious Introvert has become a dumping ground for any piece of prose that I've cobbled together at some point along the way. Ergo, I've pasted in, below, the FULL TEXT of an essay written for the Augsburg Echo, our local campus newspaper. I emphasize "full text." In their effort to make this piece fit into exactly two columns of newsprint, the editors decided to axe a few phrases and sentences--most notably, they didn't print the quotation that OPENS the piece! So, when reading it in the student newspaper, there's a reference to that quotation in the first paragraph--but there ain't no quotation! Some people must have thought that I was a little loopy--who is "Ledru-Rollin," they must have wondered. At least here, on my own blog, I can make sure that the 2 or 3 people who read this in the next 20 years will at least have the correct version. Ah, the sweet smell? taste? of vindication.
"LET'S NOT BE AVERAGE"
David Lapakko
Dept. of Communication Studies
“There go the people. I must follow them for I am their leader.” - Alexandre Ledru-Rollin
Contrary to popular belief, leadership is not all that it is cracked up to be. Yes, it has its perks, but the life of a leader can be both lonely and frustrating. It’s lonely because you can feel that no one understands you, yet you are responsible for things, and people think that you can make even more things happen because “you’re in charge.” And it’s frustrating because leaders are not as powerful as they would like to be; as Ledru-Rollin indicates, often you can only take people as far as they are willing to go. (I might like to assign six books and eight major papers in each of my courses, but that simply wouldn’t fly!)
Enter President Pribbenow. I don’t know that he feels especially lonely, but I’m sure he can feel the limits to his power. Heading up any organization is a bit like piloting a giant iceberg—you hope to nudge it a bit in the right direction, but the iceberg can be very obstinate. Yet in the midst of all this, people must try to lead. In that sense, I do not envy our President; he has a job that is inherently challenging.
Part of leadership is providing a vision, a mission, a set of goals. In a March “all hands” meeting held in the chapel, President Pribbenow tried to lay out such a vision. It was perhaps a bit much to process in a mere 30 minutes, but his PowerPoint presentation tried very hard to explain where the college is and where he wants it to be many years from now.
However, the President’s audience was not necessarily fixated on what the campus might look like in the year 2020; it’s probably good that it was on his mind, but it wasn’t on theirs. The concerns of faculty and staff are at the moment much more immediate. People have lost their jobs. Other people worry that they might lose theirs. Others sense that the “corporate” mindset has so overtaken more humane approaches to organizing that Augsburg will never be the same. And for a college that should be celebrating “abundance” (a popular word these days), it’s not clear how we are going to find enough money to construct a new science building, much less all the other buildings that are dreamt about in the future. These are the concerns of people on campus right here and now.
In his presentation, the President made more than one reference to his vision that Augsburg should be “nimble and entrepreneurial.” Don’t get me wrong, nimble is good. Entrepreneurial is good. But this is modern corporate business lingo; it’s not geared toward human relations. I can assure you that no one who feels happy and proud to work at Augsburg is going to say, “I love my job because we are so nimble and entrepreneurial.”
To his credit, the President does seem to realize that there are some fairly normal and inevitable tensions on campus, and disagreements about certain decisions—most notably, the decision to keep the college open between Christmas and New Year’s. And, he claims to be hearing and even listening to these concerns. The problem, however, is that listening can seem a little hollow if you aren’t prepared to do something meaningful in response. Near as I can tell, the President’s stance seems to be, “I am listening to you, and I respect your concerns, but I disagree with you, and so that’s that.”
In the case of our staff people, I believe that the President missed a great opportunity to score a few precious points. If he had started the March all-hands meeting with an announcement that he had re-considered the decision to keep the college open the last week of December, many might have felt even a bit triumphant. Symbolically, such a move would say to them, “I really do listen, and I really do care, and I am even willing to tacitly concede that I didn’t make the most appropriate decision.” In the end, no member of any community wants or expects their leaders to be perfect. What they expect—especially at a small Christian school where “caritas” is supposed to be more than a funny Latin word—is a culture and a climate that truly supports and celebrates the people who are here. “Nimble” and “entrepreneurial” can’t be the rallying cry, even if they are both virtues from a corporate perspective.
For me, what can and does make Augsburg special has nothing to do with being entrepreneurial. It may seem inconsequential, but I feel most proud of this place when I consider the individual people who are here. For example, as many of us know, there is a gregarious fellow who eats in the dining commons every day but is neither a student nor an employee; that he is welcome here makes me proud. Among our students is a woman who was actually willing to donate a portion of her liver to a total stranger; that makes me proud. In our copy center is a woman who will perform amazing 55-word stories for you on command; I’m proud to know her, too. In the end, it all comes down to people--not blueprints, floor plans, or an array of PowerPoint slides.
The modern organizational world—including Augsburg’s--is quite friendly on a superficial level, but underneath it all is a sort of dehumanization and dysfunction that can be so suppressed that we hardly realize it is there. Rather than trying to merely reflect the standard practices of the corporate world, Augsburg, as an educational institution grounded in the liberal arts and the Christian church, has the opportunity to create an organizational culture and climate that can rise above the rest. What we want is for people to feel privileged to even be in this environment—to feel that they are the luckiest employees on the planet. That’s a lofty goal, but one that is worth pursuing, right along with tons of money to build the new science building; the two goals are not necessarily incompatible.
I would also remind the President that when it comes to “human resources,” we have a lot of them on this campus, and they can potentially be very helpful to him and to the college. We have our Enormous Cash Cow, the Department of Business Administration, staffed with many people who have considerable business acumen. We have an MBA program and an MAL program that prepare graduate students for leadership in the 21st century; people on this campus teach about leadership and management every single day. And (dare I say it?) we have a Department of Communication Studies that devotes itself to the construction and interpretation of symbols and messages, whether those messages are one-to-one, one-to-many, verbal or nonverbal, written, oral, or electronic. Although many on campus already feel burdened in their work, they would also be flattered to be invited to come to the table and share their perspectives on issues facing the college. Obviously, nobody has all the answers, nor even necessarily the same answers, but we have helpful resources right here on campus.
Leadership is seldom easy. Augsburg’s leadership over the years has hardly been inept or mean-spirited. But now and in the past, I am keenly aware of what is possible, and I don’t want the college to settle for what’s “normal.” If you want to talk “vocation,” one part of our vocation should be to feel a calling to transform our world of work and let that transformation be a model for others to admire and to emulate.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
STILL raising your body's light vibration!
Since my colleague Kristen Chamberlain (of "Showering With Sharks" blog fame) is writing about food these days, I thought I'd follow her lead--although all of this may fall into the "more than you really want to know" category!
For 16 months in the late '70s (Kristen was not yet even a gleam in her mom and dad's eyes at that time), I lived in Venice, California, a half-block off of the Pacific and an amazing display of humanity on parade. While in L.A., I dined at a "natural foods" restaurant in the Topanga area, which is not far from Malibu and resonates with "new age/hippie" vibes. The establishment was called The Inn of the Seventh Ray. The menu was so pretentious and bizarre that I took one home with me, wrote an article about the place, mailed it to the (then) Minneapolis Tribune--and lo and behold, they published it in the food section of the paper on October 19, 1978. (I even got 30 whole bucks for that piece!) Included above the article was a cartoon by a staff artist--it showed two of the Inn's patrons floating away from their table; they are both almost out of the frame. One says to the other, "Quick John! Spit out that artichoke and grab a leg of lamb!" (Why, you ask? Keep reading!) Here's the Tribune article in its entirety:
MYSTICAL L.A. RESTAURANT EMPHASIZES 'LIGHT VIBRATION'
By David Lapakko
"We at the Inn of the Seventh Ray believe in giving you the purest of nature's energized foods--with a dash of esoteric food knowledge thrown in to raise your body's light vibration."
So begins the menu at a Topanga natural foods restaurant, where the New Era of Food Consciousness seems to have advanced to a stage of mundane earnestness befitting southern California.
The Topanga area, on the western edge of Los Angeles, is known for its devotion to the mystical. The night of my visit, a bookstore nearby featured an autograph session with a distinguished but obscure author who possessed nothing less than heavy karma. His trip? Praying with two loved ones in a triangular formation, which releases simply magical energies. "Wow--this stuff is really advanced!" someone marveled while flipping through the pages of his latest work.
Eating in Topanga has become really advanced, too, as the Inn of the Seventh Ray testifies. The menu tells us that "the lightest and least dense foods are listed in order of their esoteric vibrational value for your experimentation." The meaning of that sentence, despite a fairly rigorous five years at Macalester College in St. Paul, still eludes me. But then, Topanga deals in more than mere education: "Awareness" seems to be "what's really happening."
I was able to surmise, however, that vegetables are less dense than meats, for they are listed first on the Inn's menu. "Five Secret Rays," at the top, are vegies from the Inn's "master steamer." "Artichoke Queen of Light," the next entree, verges on the gastronomically sublime: It is "a green crown of starry organic gems with the center removed and replaced with a culinary masterpiece of white fire tofu and sesame seed filling laced with ginger and sprinkled with the freshest of chives--very high and light."
The "Gold Chalice," next on the bill of fare, raised my food consciousness to the pinnacle of nirvana: "a cup of acorn squah filled to the lip with Saint Germain's own alchemy-blend of the freshest of herb stuffing with an unusual base of millet and steamed in our master's own steamer to an exact alchemical formula for transmutation into gold energy."
Believe me--I wish I were only making all this up.
I finally settled for the "Om-ri-tas," largely because it came "direct from the violet planet, a spaceship of nature's perfect vessel." This translated to half an eggplant stuffed with olives, nuts, and "unusual cheeses," which were all carefully married in a white wine sauce--"for your transportation."
The next morning, I discovered that the "Om-ri-tas" was not so carefully married to my gastrointestinal tract.
Prices at the Inn are not out of line for Los Angeles, in other words, occasionally higher than the Twin Cities. But if my wallet stood in the way, the management offered this consolation: "It will cost slightly more, but we believe in the long run it will be much less expensive and your body will work more efficiently and we hope your consciousness will become awakened."
Altogether, the Inn of the Seventh Ray makes Minneapolis' Prashad Kitchen (3515 W. 44th St.) seem like just another branch of Mickey's Diner.
But that is because no place can compete with the Inn when it comes to cosmic food awareness. As the front of the menu proclaims: "Dining creekside in old Topanga next to the mother flow of water at the Inn of the Seventh Ray is a unique and different experience. We want you to rest unhurried and soak up Saint Germain's violet ray, and to experience a timelessness of what can be the coming culture of the Golden Age."
Now that's dining experience too heavy for words.
David Lapakko is a free-lance writer from Los Angeles.
End of story, right? No way, Jose. Just tonight it occurred to me: whatever happened to the Inn of the Seventh Ray? I was there almost 30 years ago! Surely this place must have bitten the cosmic dust by now, somehow vibrating itself into oblivion. So, I went to yahoo search and discovered that the Inn is still around, with all of its charm! Whoda thunk it? Not only that, but when I went to the Inn's website (yes, everybody has a website these days), I found the following information (emphasis added):
"The property was discovered by the present owners and restored to it’s [sic] natural beauty, Over the passing years the restaurant has become known as one of the places to go. We, at the Inn, believe in giving you the purest of Nature’s foods, energized as a gift from the sun with a dash of esoteric food knowledge and ancient mystery school wisdom tossed in for your seasoning and pleasure. It may just raise your body’s light vibration and the extra work may cost you a few pennies more, but we believe in the long run, this way of living and eating may prove less expensive. Your body elemental, that selfless, shy, invisible little fellow who works so hard to keep the oft mistreated human machine going, will jump with joy for your choice of this eating establishment. He prays and hopes you will return soon to make this a pleasant ritual with each return being a new celebration in honor of taking a small step on the path of good dinning [sic] and good doing." [sic, sic, sick!]
Yes, some things have changed there. The photos on the website make it look a little more "upscale" than I remember. And they're serving some new entrees, such as "Handcrafted Vegan Mascarpone Ravioli," "Black Trumpet Dusted Ahi Tuna" (didn't know trumpets could even DO that!), and "Pomegranate Lacquered Muscovy Duck Breast." Suffice it to say that this place is still out of my league; I may never achieve the state of enlightenment that would enable me to eat there on a regular basis. But nonetheless, it all brought back fond memories.
For 16 months in the late '70s (Kristen was not yet even a gleam in her mom and dad's eyes at that time), I lived in Venice, California, a half-block off of the Pacific and an amazing display of humanity on parade. While in L.A., I dined at a "natural foods" restaurant in the Topanga area, which is not far from Malibu and resonates with "new age/hippie" vibes. The establishment was called The Inn of the Seventh Ray. The menu was so pretentious and bizarre that I took one home with me, wrote an article about the place, mailed it to the (then) Minneapolis Tribune--and lo and behold, they published it in the food section of the paper on October 19, 1978. (I even got 30 whole bucks for that piece!) Included above the article was a cartoon by a staff artist--it showed two of the Inn's patrons floating away from their table; they are both almost out of the frame. One says to the other, "Quick John! Spit out that artichoke and grab a leg of lamb!" (Why, you ask? Keep reading!) Here's the Tribune article in its entirety:
MYSTICAL L.A. RESTAURANT EMPHASIZES 'LIGHT VIBRATION'
By David Lapakko
"We at the Inn of the Seventh Ray believe in giving you the purest of nature's energized foods--with a dash of esoteric food knowledge thrown in to raise your body's light vibration."
So begins the menu at a Topanga natural foods restaurant, where the New Era of Food Consciousness seems to have advanced to a stage of mundane earnestness befitting southern California.
The Topanga area, on the western edge of Los Angeles, is known for its devotion to the mystical. The night of my visit, a bookstore nearby featured an autograph session with a distinguished but obscure author who possessed nothing less than heavy karma. His trip? Praying with two loved ones in a triangular formation, which releases simply magical energies. "Wow--this stuff is really advanced!" someone marveled while flipping through the pages of his latest work.
Eating in Topanga has become really advanced, too, as the Inn of the Seventh Ray testifies. The menu tells us that "the lightest and least dense foods are listed in order of their esoteric vibrational value for your experimentation." The meaning of that sentence, despite a fairly rigorous five years at Macalester College in St. Paul, still eludes me. But then, Topanga deals in more than mere education: "Awareness" seems to be "what's really happening."
I was able to surmise, however, that vegetables are less dense than meats, for they are listed first on the Inn's menu. "Five Secret Rays," at the top, are vegies from the Inn's "master steamer." "Artichoke Queen of Light," the next entree, verges on the gastronomically sublime: It is "a green crown of starry organic gems with the center removed and replaced with a culinary masterpiece of white fire tofu and sesame seed filling laced with ginger and sprinkled with the freshest of chives--very high and light."
The "Gold Chalice," next on the bill of fare, raised my food consciousness to the pinnacle of nirvana: "a cup of acorn squah filled to the lip with Saint Germain's own alchemy-blend of the freshest of herb stuffing with an unusual base of millet and steamed in our master's own steamer to an exact alchemical formula for transmutation into gold energy."
Believe me--I wish I were only making all this up.
I finally settled for the "Om-ri-tas," largely because it came "direct from the violet planet, a spaceship of nature's perfect vessel." This translated to half an eggplant stuffed with olives, nuts, and "unusual cheeses," which were all carefully married in a white wine sauce--"for your transportation."
The next morning, I discovered that the "Om-ri-tas" was not so carefully married to my gastrointestinal tract.
Prices at the Inn are not out of line for Los Angeles, in other words, occasionally higher than the Twin Cities. But if my wallet stood in the way, the management offered this consolation: "It will cost slightly more, but we believe in the long run it will be much less expensive and your body will work more efficiently and we hope your consciousness will become awakened."
Altogether, the Inn of the Seventh Ray makes Minneapolis' Prashad Kitchen (3515 W. 44th St.) seem like just another branch of Mickey's Diner.
But that is because no place can compete with the Inn when it comes to cosmic food awareness. As the front of the menu proclaims: "Dining creekside in old Topanga next to the mother flow of water at the Inn of the Seventh Ray is a unique and different experience. We want you to rest unhurried and soak up Saint Germain's violet ray, and to experience a timelessness of what can be the coming culture of the Golden Age."
Now that's dining experience too heavy for words.
David Lapakko is a free-lance writer from Los Angeles.
End of story, right? No way, Jose. Just tonight it occurred to me: whatever happened to the Inn of the Seventh Ray? I was there almost 30 years ago! Surely this place must have bitten the cosmic dust by now, somehow vibrating itself into oblivion. So, I went to yahoo search and discovered that the Inn is still around, with all of its charm! Whoda thunk it? Not only that, but when I went to the Inn's website (yes, everybody has a website these days), I found the following information (emphasis added):
"The property was discovered by the present owners and restored to it’s [sic] natural beauty, Over the passing years the restaurant has become known as one of the places to go. We, at the Inn, believe in giving you the purest of Nature’s foods, energized as a gift from the sun with a dash of esoteric food knowledge and ancient mystery school wisdom tossed in for your seasoning and pleasure. It may just raise your body’s light vibration and the extra work may cost you a few pennies more, but we believe in the long run, this way of living and eating may prove less expensive. Your body elemental, that selfless, shy, invisible little fellow who works so hard to keep the oft mistreated human machine going, will jump with joy for your choice of this eating establishment. He prays and hopes you will return soon to make this a pleasant ritual with each return being a new celebration in honor of taking a small step on the path of good dinning [sic] and good doing." [sic, sic, sick!]
Yes, some things have changed there. The photos on the website make it look a little more "upscale" than I remember. And they're serving some new entrees, such as "Handcrafted Vegan Mascarpone Ravioli," "Black Trumpet Dusted Ahi Tuna" (didn't know trumpets could even DO that!), and "Pomegranate Lacquered Muscovy Duck Breast." Suffice it to say that this place is still out of my league; I may never achieve the state of enlightenment that would enable me to eat there on a regular basis. But nonetheless, it all brought back fond memories.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Star Tribune editors can't stop me!
Ya think that maybe I'm developing some sort of complex? A feeling of being neglected and discomfirmed? When Lapakko writes something, he expects it to be published! After all, who could possibly say it better? Well, I guess Alison Rasch of St. Paul can say it better, because the Star Tribune chose her letter to the editor over mine on the same subject. And actually, looking at both letters, hers may have been the better choice.
Context: A guy from Eden Prairie writes a whiny letter on March 19 complaining about those "photo cops" that can nab a motorist for moving violations. Here's the text of his letter:
I was one of the drivers who was ticketed by photo cop before the law was suspended. Photo cop does a great job of enforcing the law. But there is a huge difference between speeding through a red light at 40 miles per hour and making a "rolling stop" while taking a right on red (my offense).
Practically no one comes to a complete stop before turning right--assuming there is no oncoming traffic. It doesn't make sense to waste gas, brake linings and time just to fulfill the letter of the law when the spirit of the law is to prevent accidents. Yield signs already exist to remind drivers that cross traffic has the right of way. The law for right turns should be changed to "yield" rather than "complete stop" at most red lights. Otherwise, the law will be subjectively enforced (which is what photo cop is designed to prevent) and a lot of fines will be levied that will do nothing to prevent accidents.
Now I don't know about you, but I thought this guy seems to have some "entitlement issues." Heaven forbid that he should actually have to stop at a red light before turning! Such a huge waste of time, gas, and brake linings! And so I submitted the following letter to the StarTrib:
A March 19 letter writer has the gall to rationalize his failure to come to a complete stop at a “right turn on red.” He asserts that “practically no one comes to a complete stop before turning right.” He whines that having to stop before turning “wastes gas, brake linings and time.” And he claims that the current law is “subjectively enforced.”
Translation: this guy really doesn’t understand the law or why it is there in the first place. Yes, I do see people flaunting this rule from time to time, treating the red light as if it were a yellow one. But most people do follow the law, and they should, for safety reasons. Cars--and pedestrians--are moving in each direction; one needs to actually stop and look for them. Some people simply regard the red light as an annoyance, but I’ve seen impatient, careless right-turners create safety issues many times. And I don’t feel great sympathy for the loss of maybe two seconds of time and a ridiculously inconsequential amount of gas. And wear on brake linings? Give ME a break!
The letter-writer suggests that the right turn on red should be changed to “yield.” He implies that this would eliminate “subjective enforcement.” But in some ways, that makes for an even murkier law: now we would have to make a judgment as to whether someone did in fact “yield” or did in fact need to yield. To me, that’s even more subjective, and if the letter-writer actually thought about that a little bit, he’d realize it as well.
David Lapakko, Richfield, MN
OK, maybe it was a little nasty, and maybe it wasn't focused on the "photo cop" issue. But I thought it was worth printing. Still, the letters editor chose instead to publish the following letter from the aforementioned Alison Rasch:
A March 19 letter writer from Eden Prairie is angry that he was nabbed for not stopping at a red light before turning right ("Photo cop/It's too strict"). He believes the law that requires a driver to come to a full stop is "too strict" and "doesn't make sense."
If his contention is that the spirit of the law is to prevent accidents, he might consider that stopping and looking before proceedings will prevent him from running over pedestrians and bikers who may be out of his line of vision.
As a walker and bike-commuter, I am so glad I don't live in Eden Prairie and have to risk being smacked by this self-centered driver, who seems more concerned about wear and tear on his car than the safety of those who share the road with him.
Alison Rasch, St. Paul
Good goin', Alison! In the end, her letter was slightly more concise, slightly more polite, and dealt with the important biker/pedestrian issue in a nice "personal" way. I can see why if, they only had to publish one letter on this subject, that they would have published hers.
And so, the howling wolf/contentious introvert (that's me) keeps plugging along, hoping that I don't have to do something really weird (like sit on a toilet for TWO YEARS--now that's quite the story; look it up if you don't know what I'm referring to) in order to gain the attention of our mass media. This blog is a medium, but seriously, could we put the word "mass" in front of it? I think there have to be at least two or three readers for it to qualify as such!
Context: A guy from Eden Prairie writes a whiny letter on March 19 complaining about those "photo cops" that can nab a motorist for moving violations. Here's the text of his letter:
I was one of the drivers who was ticketed by photo cop before the law was suspended. Photo cop does a great job of enforcing the law. But there is a huge difference between speeding through a red light at 40 miles per hour and making a "rolling stop" while taking a right on red (my offense).
Practically no one comes to a complete stop before turning right--assuming there is no oncoming traffic. It doesn't make sense to waste gas, brake linings and time just to fulfill the letter of the law when the spirit of the law is to prevent accidents. Yield signs already exist to remind drivers that cross traffic has the right of way. The law for right turns should be changed to "yield" rather than "complete stop" at most red lights. Otherwise, the law will be subjectively enforced (which is what photo cop is designed to prevent) and a lot of fines will be levied that will do nothing to prevent accidents.
Now I don't know about you, but I thought this guy seems to have some "entitlement issues." Heaven forbid that he should actually have to stop at a red light before turning! Such a huge waste of time, gas, and brake linings! And so I submitted the following letter to the StarTrib:
A March 19 letter writer has the gall to rationalize his failure to come to a complete stop at a “right turn on red.” He asserts that “practically no one comes to a complete stop before turning right.” He whines that having to stop before turning “wastes gas, brake linings and time.” And he claims that the current law is “subjectively enforced.”
Translation: this guy really doesn’t understand the law or why it is there in the first place. Yes, I do see people flaunting this rule from time to time, treating the red light as if it were a yellow one. But most people do follow the law, and they should, for safety reasons. Cars--and pedestrians--are moving in each direction; one needs to actually stop and look for them. Some people simply regard the red light as an annoyance, but I’ve seen impatient, careless right-turners create safety issues many times. And I don’t feel great sympathy for the loss of maybe two seconds of time and a ridiculously inconsequential amount of gas. And wear on brake linings? Give ME a break!
The letter-writer suggests that the right turn on red should be changed to “yield.” He implies that this would eliminate “subjective enforcement.” But in some ways, that makes for an even murkier law: now we would have to make a judgment as to whether someone did in fact “yield” or did in fact need to yield. To me, that’s even more subjective, and if the letter-writer actually thought about that a little bit, he’d realize it as well.
David Lapakko, Richfield, MN
OK, maybe it was a little nasty, and maybe it wasn't focused on the "photo cop" issue. But I thought it was worth printing. Still, the letters editor chose instead to publish the following letter from the aforementioned Alison Rasch:
A March 19 letter writer from Eden Prairie is angry that he was nabbed for not stopping at a red light before turning right ("Photo cop/It's too strict"). He believes the law that requires a driver to come to a full stop is "too strict" and "doesn't make sense."
If his contention is that the spirit of the law is to prevent accidents, he might consider that stopping and looking before proceedings will prevent him from running over pedestrians and bikers who may be out of his line of vision.
As a walker and bike-commuter, I am so glad I don't live in Eden Prairie and have to risk being smacked by this self-centered driver, who seems more concerned about wear and tear on his car than the safety of those who share the road with him.
Alison Rasch, St. Paul
Good goin', Alison! In the end, her letter was slightly more concise, slightly more polite, and dealt with the important biker/pedestrian issue in a nice "personal" way. I can see why if, they only had to publish one letter on this subject, that they would have published hers.
And so, the howling wolf/contentious introvert (that's me) keeps plugging along, hoping that I don't have to do something really weird (like sit on a toilet for TWO YEARS--now that's quite the story; look it up if you don't know what I'm referring to) in order to gain the attention of our mass media. This blog is a medium, but seriously, could we put the word "mass" in front of it? I think there have to be at least two or three readers for it to qualify as such!
Saturday, March 8, 2008
These are a few of my favorite things
A reader from Cincinnati, OH writes, "Hey Dave--what are some of your favorite things?" Glad you asked. (And I'm especially glad to know that someone in Cincinnati is, well, MIGHT be reading this stuff--I don't actually know that for a fact, as they say. OK, it's just a bald-faced lie.)
• Favorite color: green, in most forms
• Favorite season: spring (I'd make every day about May 10th if I could)
• Favorite classical music ending: tie between "The Pines of Rome" by Respighi, "The Firebird Suite" by Stravinsky, and Mahler's First Symphony (The "Titan")
• Favorite movie: really, when all is said and done, "Ordinary People"
• Favorite race distance: the half marathon, of course!
• Favorite running venue: Lake Harriet in Minneapolis
• Favorite running shoe brand: New Balance (love them 2Es)
• Favorite lack-of-impulse-control food: pizza, in any form
• Favorite early Beatles' song: If I Fell in Love With You
• Favorite late Beatles' song: The Long and Winding Road
• Favorite Marx brother: after Karl, probably Harpo
• Favorite holiday: Thanksgiving, hands down
• Favorite hand lotion: Lubriderm, unscented
• Favorite female vocalist: always had a crush on Linda Ronstadt, until I heard her speak in a normal voice!
• Favorite obscure oldies' song: "Will You Be Staying After Sunday" by the Peppermint Rainbow
• Favorite oldies' social commentary song: "Pleasant Valley Sunday" by the Monkees
• Favorite margarine: Smart Balance
• Favorite novelist: probably Tom Robbins
• Favorite sort-of-raunchy novelist: Henry Miller
• Favorite fruit: when they are at their very best, oranges
• Favorite existential philosopher: Jean-Paul Sartre (who else?)
Well, there you go, Cincinnati. Something to read and think about. And debate about. It can be on the list of activities for your next baby shower, bridal shower, or even post-funeral social hour. Glad that you asked, and really glad that I could help.
• Favorite color: green, in most forms
• Favorite season: spring (I'd make every day about May 10th if I could)
• Favorite classical music ending: tie between "The Pines of Rome" by Respighi, "The Firebird Suite" by Stravinsky, and Mahler's First Symphony (The "Titan")
• Favorite movie: really, when all is said and done, "Ordinary People"
• Favorite race distance: the half marathon, of course!
• Favorite running venue: Lake Harriet in Minneapolis
• Favorite running shoe brand: New Balance (love them 2Es)
• Favorite lack-of-impulse-control food: pizza, in any form
• Favorite early Beatles' song: If I Fell in Love With You
• Favorite late Beatles' song: The Long and Winding Road
• Favorite Marx brother: after Karl, probably Harpo
• Favorite holiday: Thanksgiving, hands down
• Favorite hand lotion: Lubriderm, unscented
• Favorite female vocalist: always had a crush on Linda Ronstadt, until I heard her speak in a normal voice!
• Favorite obscure oldies' song: "Will You Be Staying After Sunday" by the Peppermint Rainbow
• Favorite oldies' social commentary song: "Pleasant Valley Sunday" by the Monkees
• Favorite margarine: Smart Balance
• Favorite novelist: probably Tom Robbins
• Favorite sort-of-raunchy novelist: Henry Miller
• Favorite fruit: when they are at their very best, oranges
• Favorite existential philosopher: Jean-Paul Sartre (who else?)
Well, there you go, Cincinnati. Something to read and think about. And debate about. It can be on the list of activities for your next baby shower, bridal shower, or even post-funeral social hour. Glad that you asked, and really glad that I could help.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Newsweek editors cannot stop me!
A few months ago, I submitted a column to Newsweek for their feature called "My Turn," in which ordinary folks like you and me get a full page to write something that's a little more on the "personal" side. But, they are quick to remind submitters that they get hundreds of such columns each week and can only publish one. Guess what? I lost this time--probably for several reasons, not the least of which is that my thoughts were a little more "political" than "personal." Nonetheless, here for everyone to see (even you folks in Malaysia, Poland, Brazil, etc. etc.) is what I sent them. It is, in many ways, my stance on what we are doing in Iraq:
In last fall’s campaign for the U.S. Senate in Minnesota, candidate Mark Kennedy, defending our actions in Iraq, ran TV spots that included this statement: “You can’t negotiate with people who want to kill you.” For many, such a quip might seem so correct and so self-evident that even a smidgen of skepticism about its wisdom would be incomprehensible.
But for me, whenever I heard this statement, the question always arose, “Aren’t those the very people you’d want to negotiate with?”
“Negotiation,” “discussion,” and “communication” seem like wimpy words to many people. A letter-writer to the Star Tribune last fall said that we need to “get tough” in Iraq, including the use of “heavy artillery” and “Hiroshima-style bombs,” because “the only way we will be victorious in the war on terror is to bring the enemy to its knees, and force them to surrender.” For some people, there’s no problem that a few nukes couldn’t handle!
Unfortunately, the prevailing mindset is that “terrorism” can only be conquered with violence. However, a foreign policy based on trying to “kill the enemy” is destined to fail. Whether it be the Hatfields and the McCoys or the United States and Al-Qaeda, the lesson we should have learned, over and over, is that violence simply tends to beget more violence. This is even more the case when the “enemy” has no national identity. We could get the Japanese nation to surrender in 1945, but we cannot do that so readily with antagonists who are spread across many countries and are not legal representatives of any political state. We cannot really “win a war” here; we must instead win hearts and minds.
We hear a lot about our military strategy “to win the war on terrorism.” But we don’t hear anything about our communication strategy. What do we know about these other people, and their cultures? How do their values and communication styles differ from ours? What are their political and religious views? What do we have in common with them, and where are the tension points? Until we are ready to address these questions seriously, we leave ourselves in the position where the only option seems to be violence.
If I were the President, I would make effective communication my number one priority. If elected, I would say to the world: “Osama bin Laden, Al-Qaeda, and anyone who has issues with the United States—I will meet with you, anytime, anywhere to try to make this world better. Let’s sit down and see what we can agree upon, and what we need to work on. Because the reality is that what we are doing right now just isn’t working--for anyone.”
I can already anticipate the letters to Newsweek in the next few days. Words such as “hopelessly idealistic” and “incredibly naïve” will appear. Doesn’t he remember the Nazis? Why should we appease “aggressors”? Weren’t the 9/11 attacks unprovoked? And how do you negotiate with people who want to kill you? Of course, part of the answer involves another communication skill: the need to listen, and to realize, even if it is abhorrent to us, that in the view of Al-Qaeda, 9/11 was not unprovoked.
Still, there are no simple or magic answers to the world’s problems, and that includes “better communication.” But until we make a concerted effort to communicate more effectively with the rest of the world, we are left with options that are, in the long run, not only more unpleasant, but counterproductive. Indeed, the times when we have shined as a nation have been built around the positive force of our vision for a saner world, whether that be in the form of the Marshall Plan, the Peace Corps, or the courageous nonviolent campaigns of Martin Luther King, Jr.
Change is not always easy or pleasant, but it can happen when people are committed to making it happen. We’ve squandered hundreds of billions of dollars on the military in Iraq, and yet some might have the nerve to suggest that better communication is somehow a wasted and pointless effort. But with a small fraction of that military money we could engage the world in substantive discussions and intercultural initiatives that would do far more to move us in the right direction. A smart cultural, economic, and diplomatic strategy would have far better results in the long run and could restore the tarnished image of the United States in the world community.
What is highly ironic to me is that many people have defined “stopping terrorism” as the central, defining issue of the 21st century. Terrorism, so this view goes, is the pivotal issue of our time. The irony is that by trying to kill our way out of this mess, we are creating a self-fulfilling prophecy. A foreign policy that is based on military intervention will help ensure that this remains a military problem, far into the future. What we desperately need in order to break this cycle of violence is a radically new stance that will reach out to the world, start meaningful exchanges with both our friends and our foes, and make the United States a constructive force for peace, something that would make us all proud.
This message, of course, is hardly original and certainly not profound. But it is such a neglected and overlooked message that someone needs to say it here and now: we simply cannot secure the peace by waging war.
In last fall’s campaign for the U.S. Senate in Minnesota, candidate Mark Kennedy, defending our actions in Iraq, ran TV spots that included this statement: “You can’t negotiate with people who want to kill you.” For many, such a quip might seem so correct and so self-evident that even a smidgen of skepticism about its wisdom would be incomprehensible.
But for me, whenever I heard this statement, the question always arose, “Aren’t those the very people you’d want to negotiate with?”
“Negotiation,” “discussion,” and “communication” seem like wimpy words to many people. A letter-writer to the Star Tribune last fall said that we need to “get tough” in Iraq, including the use of “heavy artillery” and “Hiroshima-style bombs,” because “the only way we will be victorious in the war on terror is to bring the enemy to its knees, and force them to surrender.” For some people, there’s no problem that a few nukes couldn’t handle!
Unfortunately, the prevailing mindset is that “terrorism” can only be conquered with violence. However, a foreign policy based on trying to “kill the enemy” is destined to fail. Whether it be the Hatfields and the McCoys or the United States and Al-Qaeda, the lesson we should have learned, over and over, is that violence simply tends to beget more violence. This is even more the case when the “enemy” has no national identity. We could get the Japanese nation to surrender in 1945, but we cannot do that so readily with antagonists who are spread across many countries and are not legal representatives of any political state. We cannot really “win a war” here; we must instead win hearts and minds.
We hear a lot about our military strategy “to win the war on terrorism.” But we don’t hear anything about our communication strategy. What do we know about these other people, and their cultures? How do their values and communication styles differ from ours? What are their political and religious views? What do we have in common with them, and where are the tension points? Until we are ready to address these questions seriously, we leave ourselves in the position where the only option seems to be violence.
If I were the President, I would make effective communication my number one priority. If elected, I would say to the world: “Osama bin Laden, Al-Qaeda, and anyone who has issues with the United States—I will meet with you, anytime, anywhere to try to make this world better. Let’s sit down and see what we can agree upon, and what we need to work on. Because the reality is that what we are doing right now just isn’t working--for anyone.”
I can already anticipate the letters to Newsweek in the next few days. Words such as “hopelessly idealistic” and “incredibly naïve” will appear. Doesn’t he remember the Nazis? Why should we appease “aggressors”? Weren’t the 9/11 attacks unprovoked? And how do you negotiate with people who want to kill you? Of course, part of the answer involves another communication skill: the need to listen, and to realize, even if it is abhorrent to us, that in the view of Al-Qaeda, 9/11 was not unprovoked.
Still, there are no simple or magic answers to the world’s problems, and that includes “better communication.” But until we make a concerted effort to communicate more effectively with the rest of the world, we are left with options that are, in the long run, not only more unpleasant, but counterproductive. Indeed, the times when we have shined as a nation have been built around the positive force of our vision for a saner world, whether that be in the form of the Marshall Plan, the Peace Corps, or the courageous nonviolent campaigns of Martin Luther King, Jr.
Change is not always easy or pleasant, but it can happen when people are committed to making it happen. We’ve squandered hundreds of billions of dollars on the military in Iraq, and yet some might have the nerve to suggest that better communication is somehow a wasted and pointless effort. But with a small fraction of that military money we could engage the world in substantive discussions and intercultural initiatives that would do far more to move us in the right direction. A smart cultural, economic, and diplomatic strategy would have far better results in the long run and could restore the tarnished image of the United States in the world community.
What is highly ironic to me is that many people have defined “stopping terrorism” as the central, defining issue of the 21st century. Terrorism, so this view goes, is the pivotal issue of our time. The irony is that by trying to kill our way out of this mess, we are creating a self-fulfilling prophecy. A foreign policy that is based on military intervention will help ensure that this remains a military problem, far into the future. What we desperately need in order to break this cycle of violence is a radically new stance that will reach out to the world, start meaningful exchanges with both our friends and our foes, and make the United States a constructive force for peace, something that would make us all proud.
This message, of course, is hardly original and certainly not profound. But it is such a neglected and overlooked message that someone needs to say it here and now: we simply cannot secure the peace by waging war.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
A few of my favorite quotations
Yes, I've received literally hundreds of requests to post my favorite quotations. So, "giving person" that I am, here are a few:
"No matter in how many ways our lives are demonstrated to be insignificant, we can only live them as if they were not." - John Updike, A Month of Sundays
"It is natural to give a clear view of the world after accepting the idea that it must be clear." - Albert Camus, "An Absurd Reasoning"
"The aim of a liberal education is not to turn out ideal dinner guests who can talk with assurance about practically everything, but people who will not be taken in by men who speak about all things with an air of finality. The goal is not to train future authorities, but men who are not cowed by those who claim to be authorities." - Walter Kaufmann, The Faith of a Heretic
"Western civilization is a man running with increasing speed through an air-sealed tunnel in search of additional oxygen. You can quite reasonably tell him he will survive longer if she slows down, but he is not likely to do it." - Phillip Slater, Earthwalk
"'Faith' means not wanting to know what is true." - Friedrich Nietzsche, The Antichrist (or, "Faith is believin' in something that nobody in his right mind would believe"- Archie Bunker, CBS "All in the Family" broadcast)
Ponder those quotations for a while. There will be a short essay exam next Tuesday.
"No matter in how many ways our lives are demonstrated to be insignificant, we can only live them as if they were not." - John Updike, A Month of Sundays
"It is natural to give a clear view of the world after accepting the idea that it must be clear." - Albert Camus, "An Absurd Reasoning"
"The aim of a liberal education is not to turn out ideal dinner guests who can talk with assurance about practically everything, but people who will not be taken in by men who speak about all things with an air of finality. The goal is not to train future authorities, but men who are not cowed by those who claim to be authorities." - Walter Kaufmann, The Faith of a Heretic
"Western civilization is a man running with increasing speed through an air-sealed tunnel in search of additional oxygen. You can quite reasonably tell him he will survive longer if she slows down, but he is not likely to do it." - Phillip Slater, Earthwalk
"'Faith' means not wanting to know what is true." - Friedrich Nietzsche, The Antichrist (or, "Faith is believin' in something that nobody in his right mind would believe"- Archie Bunker, CBS "All in the Family" broadcast)
Ponder those quotations for a while. There will be a short essay exam next Tuesday.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Communication Studies? What's THAT?
Being in a department of Communication Studies (formerly, speech-communication), I am constantly aware that we must fight for legitimacy. If you are a department of political science, or sociology, or history, or physics, or chemistry, you can rest assured that no one will eliminate you--it would be unthinkable within a liberal arts institution. Yet communication studies always needs to be looking over its shoulder. In fact, in the last 10 years, both St. Olaf College and Macalester College have eliminated the communication studies department and major. Go figure.
When St. Olaf was about to dismantle its "speech" department in the late '90s, I sent the President of St. Olaf the following letter in April 1998:
Dear Dr. Edwards [Mark Edwards, then President]:
I was both concerned and bemused to learn that St. Olaf College is considering elimination of its major in speech communication. I am concerned because such a move reflects a lack of appreciation for the value of a communication major. I am bemused because such thinking is counterproductive for a place such as St. Olaf and will, ironically, have adverse economic impact for the institution in the long run. [Note: part of their rationale for this decision involved "finances."]
As an academic discipline, speech communication has a long and proud heritage. As you may know, the study of rhetoric has been one cornerstone of a liberal education since ancient Rome and Greece. In the modern era, speech communication has as its central mission the exploration of communication in a variety of important contexts: public advocacy, mass-mediated rhetoric, and communication in interpersonal, small group, intercultural, and organizational settings. Communication majors will enter the 21st century with the knowledge and skills to make important contributions in education, law, business, print and broadcast journalism, religion, and a host of other fields.
Tacitly, it would appear that St. Olaf recognizes the importance of the communication discipline because a "communication emphasis" would continue to be part of the curriculum, with "communication" related courses being taught by faculty from other disciplines. I can tell you from experience that this is not a very workable plan. Although most of us speak and write English and read literature, that does not make us prepared to teach courses in an English department. By the same token, the fact that we all attempt to "communicate" does not mean that we all understand the conceptual elements of communication as articulated in a dozen of our major communication journals and a wide array of our textbooks--nor does it enable one to work effectively with students in the development of their communication skills. All of that takes formal training.
From a more pragmatic standpoint, I would urge you to consider that virtually every college and university in the state has an active, thriving department of communication. At Augsburg, nearly 250 students have chosen a communication major; two-thirds of them are in our Weekend College program for working adults. Overall, the communication program is a real "draw" for many of our students, and we think we do a good job of providing a challenging, meaningful, and academically sound curriculum. If St. Olaf were to abandon its communication major, we would no doubt stand to benefit at least a bit, as would every other school throughout the state. But that is not the way we would like to attract students; ideally, we would prefer to "earn" our communication majors rather than getting them by default.
I hope that St. Olaf does not dismantle its communication program. To do so would be a loss for your students and a loss for St. Olaf institutionally--it would put the college at a competitive disadvantage. The negative publicity alone would linger in many circles for years and ultimately offset any short-term savings. I was told yesterday that the Department of Speech and Theater had been planning a 50th anniversary celebration for the communication program. You can imagine how well-received the proposed abolition of the major will be from the many alumni attending this event. And you can imagine what I will have to tell prospective Augsburg communication majors when they come for a campus visit and tell me that St. Olaf is on their "short list" of college choices.
For all of these reasons, I truly believe that St. Olaf will be doing itself a favor by reconsidering its stance on this matter.
Sincerely, blah blah blah......
[Needless to say, "Howling Wolf" (that's me--what I wanted to call this blog, but the name was already taken) never heard back from President Edwards, and St. Olaf just went right ahead and deep-sixed the department anyway. But just the same I had to howl, if only to keep my sanity. Now having shared this dusty old letter, I can go back to being, simply, a contentious introvert.]
When St. Olaf was about to dismantle its "speech" department in the late '90s, I sent the President of St. Olaf the following letter in April 1998:
Dear Dr. Edwards [Mark Edwards, then President]:
I was both concerned and bemused to learn that St. Olaf College is considering elimination of its major in speech communication. I am concerned because such a move reflects a lack of appreciation for the value of a communication major. I am bemused because such thinking is counterproductive for a place such as St. Olaf and will, ironically, have adverse economic impact for the institution in the long run. [Note: part of their rationale for this decision involved "finances."]
As an academic discipline, speech communication has a long and proud heritage. As you may know, the study of rhetoric has been one cornerstone of a liberal education since ancient Rome and Greece. In the modern era, speech communication has as its central mission the exploration of communication in a variety of important contexts: public advocacy, mass-mediated rhetoric, and communication in interpersonal, small group, intercultural, and organizational settings. Communication majors will enter the 21st century with the knowledge and skills to make important contributions in education, law, business, print and broadcast journalism, religion, and a host of other fields.
Tacitly, it would appear that St. Olaf recognizes the importance of the communication discipline because a "communication emphasis" would continue to be part of the curriculum, with "communication" related courses being taught by faculty from other disciplines. I can tell you from experience that this is not a very workable plan. Although most of us speak and write English and read literature, that does not make us prepared to teach courses in an English department. By the same token, the fact that we all attempt to "communicate" does not mean that we all understand the conceptual elements of communication as articulated in a dozen of our major communication journals and a wide array of our textbooks--nor does it enable one to work effectively with students in the development of their communication skills. All of that takes formal training.
From a more pragmatic standpoint, I would urge you to consider that virtually every college and university in the state has an active, thriving department of communication. At Augsburg, nearly 250 students have chosen a communication major; two-thirds of them are in our Weekend College program for working adults. Overall, the communication program is a real "draw" for many of our students, and we think we do a good job of providing a challenging, meaningful, and academically sound curriculum. If St. Olaf were to abandon its communication major, we would no doubt stand to benefit at least a bit, as would every other school throughout the state. But that is not the way we would like to attract students; ideally, we would prefer to "earn" our communication majors rather than getting them by default.
I hope that St. Olaf does not dismantle its communication program. To do so would be a loss for your students and a loss for St. Olaf institutionally--it would put the college at a competitive disadvantage. The negative publicity alone would linger in many circles for years and ultimately offset any short-term savings. I was told yesterday that the Department of Speech and Theater had been planning a 50th anniversary celebration for the communication program. You can imagine how well-received the proposed abolition of the major will be from the many alumni attending this event. And you can imagine what I will have to tell prospective Augsburg communication majors when they come for a campus visit and tell me that St. Olaf is on their "short list" of college choices.
For all of these reasons, I truly believe that St. Olaf will be doing itself a favor by reconsidering its stance on this matter.
Sincerely, blah blah blah......
[Needless to say, "Howling Wolf" (that's me--what I wanted to call this blog, but the name was already taken) never heard back from President Edwards, and St. Olaf just went right ahead and deep-sixed the department anyway. But just the same I had to howl, if only to keep my sanity. Now having shared this dusty old letter, I can go back to being, simply, a contentious introvert.]
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