Critical Thinking :: Cross Perspective Dialogue :: The Whitman Institute Blog

TPOWS: Media As Mediation

2012-01-25T20:21:00.000-08:00

By Evelyn Messinger

There has been a flurry of attempts lately to connect the two political movements of our time, Tea Party and Occupy. As a television news producer who often works to expand participatory democracy, this one hits my sweet spot: it’s newsworthy, it’s dialogue, and the way the media report it will really matter.

The Tea Party burst on the scene in 2009, and Occupy Wall Street in 2011. On a superficial level, their rallies look surprisingly similar: compare this typical Tea Party event in Medford, Oregon; and an Occupy protests in the same place two years later. Journalists and commentators have noticed some shared concerns, and numerous polls show a large majority of Americans, cutting across divisions of race, class and political orientation, are unhappy with the current state of affairs. The ideological, economic and cultural divisions among Americans are real, but were these groups to join forces, even on just a few issues, the results could be profound.

This is where the media come in. So far, there are only sporadic accounts of meetings between Occupy and Tea Party activists (for simplicity, lets abbreviate these as TPOWS). The number of spontaneous TPOWS gatherings that go unreported cannot be known, but when they are covered (for example, this one in Memphis, the discussions focus on participants’ shared interests, and people do not scream at each other. When a news event leads and doesn’t bleed, it bodes well for reasonable discourse. Besides Tennessee, there are reports from Virginia, Louisiana, and a handful of other places.

But TPOWS encounters have, generally speaking, taken two forms: besides the “Let’s sit around the table and seek agreement” model, there are debates, usually generated by news media and staged for TV, that focus on political differences:“Let’s argue with each other on TV.”

These conflicting forms of news coverage raise the question: what narrative will come to define TPOWS: A powerful union of the majority intent on sweeping away corruption, or another brick in the wall of division? The future depends on which narrative takes hold. If argument supersedes agreement, efforts to unite the citizenry around shared concerns will have very limited effect, while the divisions that have paralyzed our government will be held in place, even expanded, through a focus on rancor and discord.

First, let me wear my journalist hat and make the case for the “debate” version. News has value precisely because it roots out differences and reports on conflict. The perfect example of this is an adventerous online TPOWS “discussion/debate” livestreamed on MSNBC’s website, which used the Google+ Hangout multiple-webcam format to interview three Tea Party and three Occupy stalwarts. The goal was to bring up the differences between the two groups’ philosophies. To its credit, the program did not slow its hectic pace to focus on arguments that erupted. Then again, when issues arose that might have led to agreement, the host did not stop to discuss these, either. The result is an enlightening exploration of the philosophical differences between these groups.

And yet, despite its title, the MSNBC online encounter was rarely a “discussion” or a “debate.” It was a serial interview of six people, with the news host firmly in charge. Participant’s comments were cut off as needed, and the subject was changed whenever the host said so.

A sadder example, in which the news process defeated dialogue but very little was learned, appeared on the NPR program, “Tell Me More.” Ironically, the segment is titled, Tea Party and Occupy: Can’t They All Get Along? Well, no – because the reporter won’t let them! Although the segment included the respected facilitator Richard Harwood, who was apparently shanghaied into participating, the host Michelle Norris cut him off as Harwood asked his very first question! Apparently she was just too eager to get to the disagreement part to bother with fuddy-duddy facilitation. The Tea Party and Occupy guests obliged, and the result was a predictable battle.

This is the crux of the issue we are exploring here, the degree to which the media call the shots. Rule of Thumb Number One: the more the conversation is controled by TV producers, the more “differences” rather than “similarities” will set the tone.

In a blog post after the NPR program, Richard Harwood drew a conclusion from his experience: in-person “talk-around-the-table” is the only way to successfully connect Tea Party and Occupy activists. But this means that the powerful forces of mass media are free to shape the TPOWS narrative as one of conflict. Harwood’s instinct, to take advantage of the offer to use media, is likely based on knowledge we all share: in today’s world, leveraging change requires media presence. So let’s turn the issue on its head: if an attempt to engage citizens in dialogue using media doesn’t work, then what aspects of the media format should be changed to make it work?

Some years ago, this thought would have not occurred to anyone. We all would just throw up our hands and accept that this is the way media work. But today, broadcast, print and web outlets of every type are exploring citizen engagement, and willing as never before to allow the public a voice. So, rather than trying to wedge meaningful dialogue into news formats designed to create conflict, better to begin working with media outlets interested in allowing citizens to drive the dialogue, and create formats that serve the needs of the people.

There is an excellent example of this approach, an experiment by the Southern Oregon Public TV series, Immense Possibilities, in which the host, Jeff Golden, brought together activists from both sides. To a TV producer’s eye, the show lacks a certain pizzazz, but fancy elements are easier to create than a genuine discussion in which Tea Party and Occupy adherents are willing to talk – and listen – to each other on camera. Golden made it work in a surprisingly simple yet brilliant way, which is the Second Rule of Thumb: He invited people who were curious about the other side and willing to talk, rather than seeking the ‘leaders’ or people representative of one specific aspect of each movement. The fact that the participants turned out to be leaders of their movements, though not necessarily officially, says a lot for this approach.

I must note that Golden is a long-time resident of Southern Oregon, a skilled facilitator, journalist and former County Commissioner, so he is known and respected by both Tea Party and Occupy activists in his area. Yet I believe his program could be a template to help pioneer a format that is not yet defined. Our non-profit organization, Digital Citizen, is developing a process to leverage the voice of the citizen into the policy discourse that shapes our nation, and we will soon be working with Jeff and the TPOWS folks (the aforementioned pizzazz is our job).

Local newspapers with strong websites are also good places to create civilized dialogue formats. One of our partners, the Kansas City Star’s election site Midwest Democracy Project, is fertile ground for creating dialogue on similarities. Newspapers have a long history of editorial-page citizen engagement that puts a high value on the thoughts of their readers. Newspapers also have partnerships with local radio and TV outlets, which could lead to a successful version of the Tell Me More debacle.

Let me conclude with Rule of Thumb Number Three: Act while the formats are still evolving. All those who value unity over discord must get to work now, while the templates of the TPOWS narrative are still in play. If you are an activist, it’s time to look at those on the other side as fellow citizens and find shared concerns, lest both movements be divided and conquered by the very powers you are dedicated to reigning in. If you are a journalist, remember that the fame of no less a professional than Ted Kopple is based, in part, on his skilled management of televised Town Hall meetings in the 1980s. And if you are a facilitator, join up with the nearest journalist and make your mark on history, before its too late.

***

Our Guest Blogger this week is Evelyn Messinger, president of Internews Interactive, who is a television and Internet producer, and a pioneer of citizen engagement projects that define the parameters of digital connectivity. Her credits include daily news, features and documentary programs for the BBC, Link TV, PBS, PTV stations, CNN and others. She served as a non-profit executive for the Soros Foundation and the international media NGO, Internews Network.

This article is one of a series exploring the role of media in politics as the 2012 election approaches. Please see: Attack of the Attack Ads and Convergence 2.0.

Internet Blackouts, The Republican Primaries, & The Power of Silence

2012-01-20T10:05:00.000-08:00

By Pia Infante

I've been thinking about the power of silence.

The successful, wide-spread website blackout and viral organizing of the past week to protest the SOPA bill in the U.S. House of Representatives and PIPA bill in the Senate sends a loud message. These bills have drawn the ire of many in the tech industry and beyond, citing that the legislation parameters proposed are "too broad" and will "threaten free speech, stifle innovation and most likely will not even effectively eliminate piracy."

Tracking the phenomenon, the NY Times reports that "by Wednesday morning, several lawmakers had reconsidered their support of the bills — one in the House, one in the Senate." And not just a handful of lawmakers changed sides after millions expressed their opposition online. In a graphic illustration, Mark Fraunfelder shows that 15 lawmakers abandoned their support for the bills while 70 lawmakers suddenly went public with their opposition.

In fact, CBS news reported in the last hour that "Senate and House leaders announced Friday they are postponing work on two controversial anti-piracy bills in the wake of large online protests that spurred several congressmen to rethink the legislation." This unfolding series of events hearten the wary dreamer in me -perhaps the promise that technology can increase public influence on how our democracy is governed is one that we can continue to live into.

The Republican presidential nomination circus, most recently taking place in the U.S. South, has also brought up for me the power of silence. I can't help but experience the vociferous voices of the potential nominees as a cacophony of blustery promises, threats, personal attacks,

and shameless self promotion. Now, I will own that I'm biased, en general, against the two party system - I'm not certain that it allows candidates who are truly in the game to help everyday people any real chance at the White House. In fact, the same kind of highly publicized drama on the Democratic stage might also sound much the same to me. In any case, when I do follow along I find that muting helps me observe the energy, body language, and messages of the candidates. I wonder how silence might serve any one of them.

I don't know that silence without a strategy could benefit anyone, but the power of ceasing normal activity or simply refraining from joining the fray cannot be under estimated. In high school debate, I remember the coach reminding us that we didn't have to fill up our allotted 3 minutes with words. She suggested that a thoughtful pause could enhance our point quite effectively. In my own life, I am attempting to invite silence into my daily practice - to remember that silence can invite others or innovation in or prompt the unnecessary thoughts and worries to take their leave of my mind. I also listen better, and hear more when I'm not putting anything into the space, which elicits untold gems of insight.

The website blackouts of the past week, with major industry giants like Wikipedia leading the way, were to me an indication of how thoughtful the strategy of silence can be. And how effective.

Man Over Time...

2011-12-14T20:18:00.000-08:00

By Jill Blair

Thanks to Hallmark and all the other companies that generate tools to bring good cheer into our lives, the days between Thanksgiving and Christmas now flow into one another seamlessly. This was not always true. When I was growing up there were much more clearly defined distinctions between Halloween – when goblins and candy ruled; Thanksgiving, when turkey, pumpkin pie and crazy families were the main events; and Christmas (in our house Chanukah), when trees, candy canes and too much gift-giving left people tired and abundant. In these modern days, we have managed to change the nature and pace of time and create one long holiday season that starts almost when our kids go back to school and doesn’t end until days after the New Year.

In the Jewish tradition we have two holy days that our sages, not our business partners, have inextricably linked and we are instructed during that period between (the tween days), to give time to reflection and reconciliation. These are the ten days between our New Year (Rosh Hashanah) and Yom Kippur (a day of fasting and forgiveness) – and we call this time, “the days of awe.” Our custom is to reflect during this period and to reconcile, with ourselves, and others. We seek and offer forgiveness for the ways in which we have violated our own sense of purpose and the values and ethics of our social bonds and expectations. Not because I am deeply religious, though I have my moments, but because I am concerned about what I see as our evolving relationship with and need to rule over time, I am thinking that there is significant human and social value to the this tradition and it may be worth adopting more broadly. It is a tradition that honors the human spirit but importantly, it honors time itself.

When we rush from one event or meeting to the next – when we schedule our own lives and the lives of those we love from task to task – when we confuse accomplishment (something done) with achievement (sometime done well), we have designated time to be our enemy. We are gluttons for more of it and desperate to conquer it.

But what if…

What if this holiday season we accept the limits of time, and instead of filling it up with action, we save some for reflection?

What if we honor ourselves and those we care about by setting aside the time that is needed to complete our conversations and share our greatest hopes and uncertainties and…

What if we measure the meaning of this season by how well we listen to one another?
By the questions we consider and the conversations in which we engage?

What if we measure the value of this time not by what we do but how deeply we feel when we do it?

December is my birthday month. It is also the birthday month for a friend of the same considerable age. She recently wrote to me about what it feels to be turning 55 this year – it seems like a number that not long ago was completely out of reach – a distant and foreign destination of little concern in her common world. But here we are. And my friend noted, “at least with this age I have found some answers to long lingering questions.”

Which takes me to my conclusion…it is time that answers our questions. But we must be listening.

Occupy Wall Street: Is the Medium as Important as the Message?

2011-12-02T15:08:00.000-08:00

By Matt Leighninger & Bruce L. Mallory

As practitioners and students of deliberative democracy for more than a decade, we are intrigued by the tactics of the Occupy Wall Street movement, and by the contrast between these methods and the traditional ways in which governments try to engage citizens. Media commentators speculate on whether the Occupiers will achieve their policy goals; maybe we should all be more focused on the equitable, participatory, ways in which those goals are being developed.

Whether one agrees with the ideological content of the OWS movement or not, this unfolding example of civil discourse, respectful exchange of ideas, small-group facilitated dialogue, and listening rather than speechifying is a welcome alternative to the prevailing, alienating polemic of talk radio and much of the blogosphere. The use of direct democracy, expressed through the highly structured “general assembly” as the means to engage participants in the drafting of manifestos and hour-by-hour decision making, is remarkable to witness. Most of the core principles that have guided deliberative democracy practices are readily evident in the OWS movement. These include a commitment to small-group, facilitated dialogue; equal participation and full respect for every member of the group; an emphasis on deep and careful listening as well as thoughtful expression of ideas; the engagement of diverse participants who bring divergent experiences, identities, and ideologies into the conversation; and the importance of sustained exchanges meant to inform and transform rather than one-off, one-way testimonies that neither inform nor transform.

These core principles, applied across deliberation models, settings, and topics, are being utilized in a dynamic, passionate, uncertain context in the OWS movement. In fact, it is the application of these deliberative principles that is allowing the inchoate structures of OWS to generate common ground, maintain community, and avoid either internal or external confrontations (so far).

Some of these tactics have been used in recent years, primarily by city officials and other local leaders, to engage their constituents productively in public decision-making and problem-solving. These methods for democratic governance are promoted and supported by associations for local officials like the National League of Cities. This work has gone largely unnoticed, particularly by state and federal officials; OWS has brought principles of democratic governance out of doors and into the spotlight.

The “human mic” phenomenon is particularly appealing. This completely low-tech, innovative work-around to restrictions on sound equipment has created a powerful bonding mechanism. The necessary concern for whether others have heard a speaker’s message requires participants to suspend their own immediate responses or judgments and place the needs of other community members first. Thus, the first question is not, do you agree with what you are hearing, but rather, did you hear it? This requires that individuals focus on listening first, only then forming an opinion about what is said. The frustratingly slow process of the human mic mirrors the slow, messy, unpredictable nature of direct democracy itself. At the same time, the process creates social capital within a group of people who have only been together a matter of weeks, days, or hours. It produces the sense of attachment to a community, a feeling that one of our founding fathers, John Adams, would have called “public happiness.”

While the general assembly strategy appeared to be a spontaneous invention, it was influenced significantly by experiments in democratic governance and popular protest in other countries. Veterans and careful observers of the recent protests in Greece, Spain, and Egypt were among the early organizers of the occupation. Democratic innovations from Madagascar, relayed to the organizers by anthropologist David Graeber, seem to have been particularly important. Graeber spent extended time in villages in Madagascar that had been abandoned by the government for some years; his field work focused on the use of consensus decision-making in which the local residents managed their own affairs in the absence of formal government structures. He described what he saw as “democracy without government,” and subsequently applied these lessons to his participation in anti-globalization protests in the 1990’s. The use of tactics from other countries – and the implied recognition that the United States is not the only laboratory for innovation in democracy – has invigorated OWS in much the same way as Brazilian methods for participatory budgeting are helping local officials in Chicago, New York, and several California cities involve their constituents effectively in key budget decisions. Where OWS will end up, we can’t predict. But we do hope that the example being set of small ‘d’ democracy will live on, indoors and out, whatever the issue or context.

Bruce L. Mallory

Professor of Education, University of New Hampshire

Director, Carsey Institute and NH Listens

www.nhlistens.org

Matt Leighninger

Director, Deliberative Democracy Consortium

www.deliberative-democracy.net

Story Telling for Good

2011-11-25T13:38:00.000-08:00

By Pia Infante

What better time of year than now, and what better time in human history than now, is there to highlight and focus on stories of good? It's been an intense year politically, financially, socially for many - and, as we bring the year to a close, I'm led to look for what's "good in the hood" as a recent Storytellers for Good piece highlighted.

Actually, it was while flipping through TWI grantee Spot Us' unfunded stories that I found this smiling example of a great story. Spot.Us is an open source project to pioneer “community powered reporting.” Through Spot.Us the public can commission and participate with journalists to do reporting on important and perhaps overlooked topics. Contributions are tax deductible and we partner with news organizations to distribute content under appropriate licenses.

I found that a consistent partner in this endeavor for Spot Us is another outfit aptly named Storytellers for Good which is a team of passionate journalists and photographers who seek to use their skills to inspire optimism and change. This group aims to tell and promote stories of people and organizations making a positive difference. With stories that span from Sub-Saharan Africa to the Mandela Marketplace in West Oakland, CA - there are certainly some gems that are guaranteed to inspire hope and re-instill an unshakable faith in the human spirit.

For me, the winding down of one year and slow spiral into the next always brings me home to myself. I find myself drawn to an expansive table near a window, a journal, and a good pen and the dark, quiet, pregnant pause of reflection and dreaming. I appreciate the opportunity to look for the good in myself, for the good I'm honored to witness in others on daily basis, and the good that can always be found in the larger world around me. I was glad to have dallied a bit with Spot.Us and Storytellers for Good today, to re-affirm my own unshakable (though often shaken!) faith in the human spirit and to connect with the truth that we can make the world our own, again and again.

The Story of Story

2011-11-11T13:51:00.000-08:00

By Pia Infante

There were several key messages John shared from the Conversation with Van Jones hosted by NCG yesterday. One, lifted from a comparison of the 99% movement to the rise of the Tea Party, is that the 99% movement will only succeed if it seeks the best for the 100%, not by propelling another divisive "Us vs. Them" narrative.

Another is that the power of story to capture imagination, to educate, and to catalyze action continues to demonstrate time over time that data does not instigate change, and people's stories do.

A compelling example of the power (and story) of Story is Annie Leanard's work. Her piece called The Story of Stuff has gone viral with millions of viewers world wide.

Perhaps in some response to the Occupy movement, Annie has recently released The Story of Broke, a heart-breakingly hilarious and sobering piece that takes us step by step through a visual narrative about where our tax dollars do (and don't) go. Incidentally, Annie participated in a dialogue with The New School at Commonweal's Micheal Lerner, a grantee and friend of The Whitman Institute. The New School demonstrates often the ability of stories to stick with us through weekly podcasts and community gatherings around ecology, culture, and the inner life.

We highlight Annie and Micheal's work here to emphasize the power of story, of inquiry, and how both learning and civic action can be engendered by the elegant and smart use of the ancient ritual of storytelling - particularly when paired with the nimbleness and instant sharing capabilities of modern technology.

Some Among Us

2011-11-07T08:43:00.000-08:00

By Pia Infante

This week we wanted to highlight a few of our colleagues as a sample of the profoundly rich contributions of the TWI community's efforts to promote a more just and sustainable world.

On The Move's Executive Director Leslie Medine was recently recognized in the Napa Register, spotlighting her tireless efforts to support and empower young people.

Spark celebrated its 9th Annual Black and Pink Ball in October, an event that regularly attracts over 800 guests who are part of Spark's community of young global citizens invested in changing patterns of global inequality.

Our friends at the Center for Courage and Renewal recently launched a video series called Stories of Authenticity. The first video features Parker Palmer speaking on how to live a "divided life no more."

Lastly, Eboo Patel of the Interfaith Youth Corps was featured in the Clinton Global Initiative's Stories, highlighting the finer points of a vision to catalyze a generation of young interfaith youth ambassadors to promote peace through dialogue.

The Politics of the Broken Hearted

2011-10-28T14:41:00.000-07:00

By Pia Infante

When I first read Parker Palmer's description of "the politics of the broken hearted" in his new book, Healing the Heart of Democracy, my heart expanded and contracted in resonance. I have a patched together heart full of despair, resilience, and ferocious hope about the time and world we live in.

As I track the impact on the public imagination and consciousness of the Occupy Wall Street movement, I experience a similar sense of expansion and contraction. Stories from the streets have been inspiring (encampments have grown in over 1000 cities) and terrifying (Oakland police raiding a camp of 70 sleeping occupiers with 500 policemen).

I particularly appreciate the General Assemblies that are a core part of how "leaderless" decisions are being made. I also appreciate the quality of listening that is elevated by the common practice at the General Assemblies that the speaker and audience do a call and response where the speaker talks in short chunks that are immediately repeated by the whole group. It's powerful. And interesting. And happening in many, many cities in our country and beyond.

I don't mean, at all, to idealize this effort, which has seen critique on all sides of the fence. It's un-contestable, though, that Occupy has sparked the interest and engagement of millions in a global conversation about the distribution of wealth in our time. It seems, too, that there are a million opportunities to engender the kinds of thoughtful, cross-perspective dialogue that TWI supports. I've no data on whether or not this is happening, but do shore up an immense hope and wish that it is.

I've been musing about the kinds of across the divide types of conversations that are likely occurring, however fruitful, on the streets and in all matter of venue. Rich Harwood recently blogged (and actually helped facilitate) about a dialogue between tea party members and Occupy organizers - with an intention to raise up the shared values and beliefs and possibly even solutions that could be located between the two grassroots movements. As with most dialogues between people who's identifications often divide them, he suggests it starts with listening into commonality. We talk often at TWI about the conditions that scaffold difficult conversations. A short list includes:

Start with sharing story, before talking about issues.
Show up as a demonstration of your values, not your positions.
Build relationship.
Perhaps put aside known topics of difference, at least at first.
Listen. (cannot be overstated)
Lead with inquiry.
Be willing to listen, and, even more so, be willing to be changed by this relationship/experience.

Not an exhaustive list. I'm sure you can think of 10 more elements that would be required to truly succeed at dialoging across difference.

I've written before that this kind of conversation takes practice and so much willingness. With ferocious hope, I envision that in and about Occupy encampments and in all of the ways that we are participating in the greater conversation about our common welfare, that we take this moment in history as an opportunity to talk between silos and across divides - into the collaboration it will take to make real the promises of our democracy.

Relationship Building As A Measure of Impact

2011-10-20T08:47:00.000-07:00

By John Esterle

(The following can also be found on Beth Kanter's blog, as a guest post from John.)

One of the themes raised up as the GEO/Monitor Institute conference came to an end was the importance of trust and relationship building in networks. Indeed, that was my theme for the day given that I facilitated a couple of morning conversations on that topic and then in the afternoon heard Ify Mora from the Barr Foundation (http://www.barrfoundation.org/) talk about how they use social network mapping to capture the relationships that have been built through their innovative Fellows Program.

So, as I leave the conference I’m wondering how storytelling might be combined with social network mapping to make the broader case within philanthropy that relationship building — and the spaces and processes that support it — matter. It’s an important challenge to meet because I think that unless relationship building is broadly recognized as a key measure of impact, it will continue to be under-resourced (to the detriment of achieving the larger goals and outcomes people are working toward).

The philanthropic exploration of networks potentially offers a new platform or frame to talk about the need to explicitly value process and relationship-based work. And that opportunity links to the other top two network themes raised up in today’s final session: the value of values (naming what’s important) and the need for funders to see themselves as changemakers within networks rather than just funders. In short, what might be gained by funders taking off their organizational hats and bringing our whole selves into the equation?

I think if more funders do step outside of their traditional roles it will be through different kinds of relationships with both grantees and other funders. And, as was apparent throughout various conference discussions, those relationships will blossom if they are built on trust, humility, and a willingness to be both vulnerable and generous with each other.

So, a percolating question for me going forward, both individually and organizationally, is:

How do we walk our talk when it comes to operating with a network mindset where process and relationships truly matter?

Mindful Media

2011-09-28T14:17:00.000-07:00

By John Esterle

Recently, I was fortunate to attend Images and Voices of Hope's annual Summit. The people, the setting, and what transpired left me feeling, in a word, hopeful! Corny, I know, but there it is.

I'm honored IVOH has posted some closing reflections I shared at the end of the summit, which can also be read below. I hope they, and Lois Fiore's thoughtful summary, capture some of the flavor of this rich, distinctive event.

John Esterle's remarks at the end of Images & Voices of Hope Summit
September 18, 2011

I want to thank the Brahma Kumaris for hosting us here. I think place is really important in terms of the kinds of dialogues we are able to have, and Peace Village is certainly a wonderful place and space for this dialogue to happen. I want to process the time we had together at the Summit. I am really appreciating all the different paths into our dialogue from panels, to speakers, to small group conversations -- poetry, music, and story. I think all of these things are really important to providing multiple pathways into our inquiry into “how are we doing with all this and how do we move forward?”

The issue of time is a little on my mind, because I did get up early enough this morning for meditation with Sister Gayatri on “ time.” So thinking about our time here, time is always present in different ways. It manifested here in several ways. For example you showed adaptability in changing the program because of time. There‘s always a tension around time, how much we can fit into the limited time we have together. There’s tension about how much we can pack in and to what degree we can be expansive.

So I have appreciated your ability to adapt and change, while also appreciating holding firm to the “traffic control” (the music that plays for 1 minute on the hour to signal a pause for reflection). I think polarities are a theme and a paradox that has been present in the room. These times are calling us to be adaptive and responsive, while also asking us what we stand for -- what are the things around which we won’t adapt or compromise, but will hold true to. This shows up in the discipline of stopping every hour for reflection. This discipline also shows up in different ways like with Sonali when she recounted her story and said, “this is what I stand for now. I’m not going to stand down. This is what I stand for.”

I think we‘re in times that call us to do both of these things. That both were modeled here in different ways is important. It is also important that this is such an eclectic group. It brings together both journalists, who we think of as coming from a more objective evidence-based place, and also very expansive thinkers talking about consciousness.

One thing that stuck out for me is how much we talked about mind or thinking. We talked about changing patterns in thinking and behavior and in critical thinking as it applies to how we are looking at the world. We talked about the importance of stepping back and reflecting on our minds and our thoughts. This theme of “we are thinking about our thinking,” is called meta-cognition.

I think there is more awareness coming from both spiritual inquires and secular inquires into the importance of thinking about our thinking and thinking about our biases. So it’s a hopeful thing that there is more thinking about our thinking and how it relates to how we are with each other. At the same time, there’s a polarity that we talked about: that we are moving away from being a fact based society. We seem to have a public that is more uninformed in many ways all the time. To me it is the best of times and the worst of times.

So where do we go with that? We talked about cognitive dissonance. Why is it that when people are presented with evidence that runs contrary to what they’re saying, that they don’t let that evidence in? I think that’s a really important question as we think about story and how we craft our stories.

We talked about “heart” a lot and the broken heartedness of the times, asking how do we live with our hearts broken open? How do we live in the place of that vulnerability? Mark (Nepo) talked about heart as the place where we hold paradox. So words like “passion” were very prevalent throughout our time together.

Both the mind and the heart pieces lead us to the story piece. How do we tell different stories that engage both our hearts and minds? I was struck by several things around our stories. Often when we talk about telling stories, we talk about the telling part. When we are entrepreneurial, we ask how do we reach a broader audience? A key part of this is listening. How do we listen in a way that creates compelling stories?

We saw evidence of that with Phillip (Martin) and Kael (Alford), James (Lerager) and Daniel (Heimpel), when they were really going deep with their reporting and journalism on specific issue. So I think a really important inquiry for us is, “How do we become better listeners?” The foundational piece of dialogue in my mind is learning to listen. How do we exercise that muscle, and how do we call attention to that?

Within the element of story there was also a lot of talk about transparency and trust. Transparency came up in different ways, about our biases, our aims. How do we make our thinking and our reasoning about things more visible? I think we all have our biases and part of the wonder of dialogue is that it’s a great way, if it’s constructed right, for us to surface our biases and explore them in different ways.

The part that I thought about a lot in the context of cognitive dissonance, was what Mark said about the king who was cutting off peoples’ heads. In Mark’s story he described how year after year, the one guy was making his argument over and over to the King – that he shouldn’t continue to cut people’s heads off-- but he wasn’t getting anywhere. What eventually changed the king’s mind was that they had been in relationship.

I think the importance of relationship in going forward can’t be overstated. That’s my own bias; I’m very relational. I think we need to explicitly raise the value of relationships. I was noticing when people explained how they came to the summit they said, “well a friend invited me or a friend of a friend invited me.” As we think about how we broaden the hope we’ve talked about here, I think we do this in relationship. That’s very important for me. This summit is about images and voice of hope and I kept thinking, “It’s people of hope."

We are in dark times in many ways. We’ve talked in some conversations about resilience. When we think about how we are going to move through this time, our relationships are huge; they are our anchors in pretty stormy waters. But I think it’s also though relationships that we are able to move to different places with people and maybe move to a place where they’re looking at things in a different way.

In Liz Heron’s piece what stood out for me was what she’s seeing as next steps, and what she’s seeing as a trend on the horizon. She said it was the movement from online to offline engagement, which we heard about from many. We are still in the beginning stages of this; we are still figuring out the social media landscape and our own personal relationships. There are problems there, but it is good to remember that we are kind of new and in the early stages of this process.

So with that I want to read one short piece. I just started reading a book called Hope in the Dark, by Rebecca Solnit, published in 2004, and it resonates a lot with the impetus behind Images & Voices of Hope. Solnit suggests that we can take a different frame and perspective on where we are at this time, one that gives us hope in the dark. I’d like to share this one passage:

“Cause and effect assumes history marches forward. But history is not an army. It is a crab scuttling sideways, a drip of soft water wearing away stone, an earthquake breaking centuries of tension. Sometimes one person inspires a movement, or her words do decades later. Sometimes a few passionate people change the world, sometimes they start a mass movement and millions do. Sometimes those millions are stirred by the same outrage or the same ideal and change comes upon us like a change of weather. All that these transformations have in common is that they begin in the imagination and hope. To hope is to gamble. It’s to bet the future on your desires, on the possibility that an open heart and uncertainty is better than gloom and safety. To hope is dangerous, and yet, it is the opposite of fear. For to live is to risk.”

I think for me to live is to risk, to love is to risk and I can risk those things when I am hand-in-hand literally and figuratively with other people. So, this is why I think this summit and gatherings like this are so important. If we move forward with intention around process and relationship, about how we are thinking, about how we are empathizing with others, then in the midst of what do seem like dark times, we’re going to be ok. And I think we’ll be more than okay, in the words of Kemy Joseph and of Sekou Andrews, “we’ll be awesome!”

System Failure, System Frozen

2011-09-25T13:36:00.000-07:00

By Edd Conboy

Note: This is the follow up segment to Edd's previous post System Failure, System Reboot. In these powerful stories, Edd humanizes the ways that our mental health and criminal justices systems often fall short - for precisely the people in the most critical need.

Update on Roxanne: Since the posting of the first installment, the hospital official, who intervened on Roxanne’s behalf to ensure that there would be an effective treatment plan for her going forward, was able to schedule a hearing before a judge to name a guardian for Roxanne. An attorney was engaged by the hospital to represent her. Subsequently, the judge appointed a guardian, and now he is in the process of finding a suitable nursing home for her that can manage her medications and other needs. Just to give you an indication of how far Roxanne has come: She has HIV. A high viral load count is usually measured in the thousands. 10,000 copies/mL is considered high. Roxanne’s viral load was 23,000,000 copies/mL. Her white blood cell count was negligible. Today with medication her viral load count is negligible, and her white blood cell count is near normal.

* * *

The writer, Christopher Hitchens, once said that one of his highest aspirations was to, at least one time, write or talk about the North Korean regime, and the culture it has spawned, without using the descriptor “Kafkaesque”. He failed continually. So, it appears that, when I describe some of the systems failures in our prison system, I will probably suffer the same fate.

As with the previous posting involving Roxanne’s experiences with the health system here in Philadelphia, I will attempt to crystalize the implications of “systems thinking” as it pertains to the prison/mental health system here in Philadelphia (and perhaps nationally) with the experiences of one individual.

In this case let’s call her Tiffany.

Tiffany is a homeless, transgendered person in the early stages of transitioning. This means that, although she is anatomically male (for the most part), she identifies herself as female, and has been living as a female for a number of years. Like many people in her situation, she has had the unshakeable felt sense for most of her life that she is in “the wrong body”, but for a number of reasons – mostly financial – she was unable to change that significantly. Tiffany is also diagnosed with Bi-polar Disorder, and needs medication to control that condition. She has been living outdoors in Philadelphia for several years.

A year and a half ago Tiffany was in the ER at a local hospital trying to get medication to control her mood swings when she was involved in what appeared to be a mild altercation with the security guards. Since she has no medical insurance, Tiffany is a regular visitor to that hospital, and well known to the staff there. For reasons still unclear, this time the security officials decided to have her arrested and charged with felony assault, even though there were no significant injuries to anyone during the altercation.

Since Tiffany was unable to post the $4,000 bail, she was remanded into custody and taken to the county jail.

When most of us hear “county jail”, what do we think of? Perhaps a several story building downtown near the courthouse. Few of us would envision a 25-acre complex comprising six separate “major correctional facilities” in the farthest corner of the city limits. A facility that is extremely inaccessible by public transportation, meaning extremely inaccessible to poor people. This may be the first questionable “systems thought” in this scenario: Why so inaccessible? What are the implications of this decision? Who made it in the first place?

At this point in the narrative the specter of Franz Kafka may begin to emerge. Since Tiffany is in possession of a penis, she is considered male by the correctional authorities. Fair enough. However, since she identifies as a female, if assigned to the general population, she is at risk of being sexually assaulted by other inmates. The solution to this problem is clear to the officials: “administrative segregation” for her own protection. This is, of course, a euphemism for solitary confinement.

So for several months Tiffany was held in solitary confinement without proper medication before she was scheduled for her first court appearance. Once she was in court the judge found her not competent to stand trial. She was returned to administrative segregation. Her condition began to deteriorate markedly.

It is well documented in the research that one of the most powerful coercive tools available to the state is its capacity to confine an individual for varying lengths of time with virtually no human contact. Many modern societies consider it a form of torture. Tiffany was in this situation for the better part of a year.

So, now “the system” is faced with another dilemma: they have an inmate who is charged with, but not convicted of, a serious crime. She is unable to stand trial, and no small reason for that is due to her isolation within that very system. The solution that the decision-maker made was to house Tiffany in a psychiatric prison facility outside the city. In this facility she is given medication to sedate her, but very little else. Since she no longer has access to hormone therapy, her beard has returned, and of course she is not allowed to have razor blades. In addition the staff (including social workers) continue to refer to her with male pronouns further alienating her. She receives no therapy or medication for her Bi-polar disorder. And every sixty days there is a competency hearing. Every sixty days she is found not competent to stand trial.

Finally, in a large part because of the decision to isolate Tiffany, her mental state has deteriorated to such an extent that, even if she were released, and she were able to afford surgery, she would not do well enough in a psychiatric assessment to be cleared for any such surgery. This means that the most likely outcome is that Tiffany will spend the rest of her life trapped in a body that is alien to her psyche.

At every turn in this narrative – from the decision to charge her with a felony, to isolating her in the county prison facility rather than housing her with other transgendered inmates, to transferring her to a psychiatric prison hospital – “decision were made”. Yet, it is difficult to determine who made them, what was the thinking behind them, and if there were other alternatives available. At every turn, unlike the previous scenario with Roxanne, the system appeared to do the thinking without any discernable human intervention.

From my perspective (and perhaps this is one shared by other members of the Whitman community) the key factor missing in this scenario that showed up just in time in the previous installment is the emotional one. At one crucial moment a human being literally “felt for Roxanne” and made a different decision. That health professional’s critical thinking changed dramatically when that interplay between emotional clarity and critical thinking was able to lead her to effective action.

So far, perhaps because of the different context of the penal system from the health system, no such individual with similar authority to intervene has spoken up on behalf of Tiffany.

But at times even Kafka wasn’t all that Kafkaesque.

PEAK Philanthropy: A Hierarchy of Needs Pyramid for Foundation Giving

2011-09-21T16:10:00.000-07:00

By CJ Callen

Abraham Maslow has hit the big time in the world of business – whether you are talking about the industries of articulate, design or hospitality. Recently, I was moved to read Chip Conley’s PEAK: How Great Companies Get their Mojo from Maslow.

This is a great and heartfelt exploration of how Conley translated Maslow into his business context: building and running a hotel business called JDV Hospitality. The book is a powerful reminder of the primacy of relationships. In it, Conley introduces the concept of the “relationship truths” and creates pyramids for each of his company’s key stakeholders (employee, customer, investor) that surface motivations on the three tiers of the “transformation pyramid: survival, success and transformation.

The book was inspiring; Maslow is not without his critics but still there is something in his theory that demands attention. Reading Conley’s book sparked my own playful inquiry into the implications of Maslow theory. I began to wonder: although the title mention “companies” can we substitute “nonprofits” or “foundations”?

I think so.

What might that look like for a foundation? What might it look like for The Whitman Institute with our decidedly different take on the work, i.e., our focus on process and explicit investment in relationship building?

It sounded like a challenging and fun task to try to build a relationship pyramid for a foundation in general and TWI specifically. Granted, all foundations are not alike but there are some common characteristics that are inherent in the nature of the beast that I can use as guides. With that disclaimer, I quickly moved on.

To start, I decided to sort foundation stakeholders into three primary categories: (1) donor or donor proxy (trustee or board member), (2) NGOs (grantees and grant seekers), and (3) the community served. This single pyramid is designed to capture the hierarchy of needs of foundations’ core relationships. As for developing the distinct pyramids for each of the three primary stakeholders, that will be even more challenging (and enlightening) and will need to come later.

Here is how I see the “foundation way” -

As you can see from the diagrams, there is much that we at TWI have in common with our foundation colleagues in terms of the primary relationships that drive our success. However, if you probe deeper into the “why” and “how” of each tier you will find some notable differences. For instance, if I were to draw a pyramid of the TWI tier one, you will find mention of the cooperative way that board and staff members work together, our primacy on creating trust between the board and staff and on lifting multiple and diverse voices in service to our mission. Each time I drill down into the different tiers, I gain greater insight into what lies at the heart of our foundation. What is the interplay between its different primary stakeholders that drives us forward and helps us serve with grace, humility and integrity? I enjoy the opportunity afforded by TWI’s particular application of the hierarchy to model a different way of serving as a foundation trustee.

I invite all my foundation colleagues to join me into this playful inquiry: identify your primary stakeholders and create relationship pyramids for each that captures their baseline motivation for each, need for recognition of their talents and dreams and the “top of the pyramid” inspiration that helps them find deeper meaning in their work. Is this the beginning of some kind of relationships audit? Not quite. All I know is that as I struggle to work on each stakeholder pyramid, I am uncovering basic relationship truths about our work and basic truths about TWI.

New Trends in Philanthropy?

2011-09-13T09:03:00.000-07:00

By John Esterle

Paul Connolly has contributed a thoughtful post examining what he calls the humanistic and technocratic approaches to philanthropy. He makes the case that rather than argue which approach leads to better results, funders might be wise to consider adopting a balanced perspective that combines the strengths of each. Certainly, he argues, there is a need for more dialogue within philanthropy about these different approaches as the "dynamic ying yang-style tension between them is rich territory that has not been fully mined."

A central question for TWI has always been how does the interplay of thinking and feeling, cognition and emotion, affect our decisions and actions. So, it resonates when Connolly states that "philanthropy must heed a growing body of research across the neuroscience, psychology, and behavioral economics fields that confirm the importance of synthesizing logic and instinct, head and heart, linearity and serendipity." I also like that he ends his reflection with a call that "to advance as a field, more oxymoronic thinking and action is required -- including rigorous values, poignant data, strategic intuition, deliberate improvisation, soulful strategy, rational exuberance, and immeasurable outcomes." We often talk about how dialogue can help us to creatively explore paradoxes, or polarities, or tensions. I think oxymoronic thinking can be added to the list.

Dialogue can also help us cultivate empathy, something that Grantmakers for Effective Organizations describes in their new report as "the missing link" in philanthropy. I often talk about the idea that building relationships should be seen as a measure of impact within philanthropy, so I admire GEO for prominently raising the importance of empathy and the need for funders to build relationships with grantees. It may seem a no-brainer to some to talk about the importance of empathy and relationships, but as GEO points out:

"Many of the grantmakers we talked to in our research for this publication acknowledged that their organizations are works in progress when it comes to connecting with people outside their office walls in deeper and more authentic ways."

And,

"The bottom line: When it comes to operating with a high level of empathy, philanthropy plainly isn't there yet. Few foundations are truly empathic in the way they operate, and when they are it is often by chance."

If you check out their "What We Are Reading" page, you'll see that The Compton Foundation is one foundation that is engaging in the questions and processes that both Connolly and GEO highlight. You'll also see that they mention Cynthia Chavez and Hugh Vasquez's article about The Conversation Lab, a continuing experiment we're involved with that also resonates with GEO's report. If you scroll to the end, you'll find Fire by Judy Brown, a poem that Compton finds inspiring -- as do we at TWI. Indeed, I read the poem at the opening of our last retreat.

There are lots of sparks of conversation right now about doing philanthropy differently. This is not a new development, but it does seem to be a trend that is gathering momentum. Perhaps with more dialogue, more oxymoronic thinking, more empathy, we can build and expand the relationships that will turn those sparks into flames.

Wiser Together: Partnering Across Generations

2011-09-02T12:12:00.000-07:00

By Juanita Brown and Ashley Cooper

Tucked away in the small Appalachian community of Burnsville, North Carolina, is a family farm and a place of meeting that has recently become the new home base for Juanita Brown and David Isaacs, Co-Founders of the World Café. Together with Ashley Cooper, a young educator, community organizer, and Executive Director of TEDxNextGenerationAsheville, they are collaborating with Juanita’s 90-year-old mother and younger members from the nearby community to deepen the legacy of the farm for future generations.

In these “notes from the field,” Ashley and Juanita tell a story that was also featured in the Innovation Marketplace at the 2011 Summer Institute.

FIELDNOTES: It looks like you’ve made quite a radical change in your life, Juanita. How did you come to be living in the Appalachian mountains?

Juanita: In the early 1970s my parents, Millie and Harold Cowan, civil liberties pioneers from Florida, bought a broken-down 90-acre farm in one of the poorest counties of North Carolina, near Asheville. For the next four decades they worked with others in the community to create a special and welcoming environment for people from all walks of life. After my dad passed away, David and I brought my mom back to the farm and spent the summer here. Late one night, I had an “illumination” in which I felt completely embraced by the love and care that my mom and dad had invested here. In that moment, I realized that we could never sell this farm in our lifetimes—and that David and I had a unique opportunity to discover what wanted to unfold here.

In a purely intuitive leap, we left our home of 35 years in California to “listen the future into being,” and to embody here the principles of multi-generational collaboration that we’d been exploring in our global work with the World Café community. As you know, we’ve co-hosted many multi-generational dialogues since helping to organize the first multi-gen learning program at the Shambhala Institute in 2004. Our farm project is providing a place based learning field for us to deepen into the principles and practices of intergenerational hosting and partnerships. We see this field as having implications for community resilience and for organizations across sectors that are seeking to engage the wisdom and expertise of all of their members in addressing critical challenges

FN: And what is the path that brought you into this collaboration, Ashley?

Ashley: Growing up in Georgia, the Appalachian mountains have always been my “heart home.” The West Coast swept me away for many years, but my return was inevitable. The timing fortuitously aligned with Juanita and David’s decision to move to the region. They have been colleagues, friends, mentors, and co-inspiritors over the years. I embraced the opportunity to learn and co-create with them while at the same time being adopted by a new “grandmother,” Millie!

The nature of this project and this place drew me in—the intergenerational partnerships and the shared dedication to processes of engagement grounded in principles that nourish life, justice, learning and the common good. It is a unique opportunity to be part of a group of passionate people, as we move between our roles aslearners, teachers, friends, mentors, and family. At the core, we are living the practice of mutual partnerships where appreciation and respect for each other’s contributions is based on recognizing that each of us has unique gifts to offer, whatever our age or stage of life.

FN: Why is multi-generational collaboration and partnership so important to you both?

Juanita: I have always been fascinated by large-scale systems change and what might enable whole societies to shift into more life-affirming patterns. Over the years I had the great good fortune to have older corporate and community leaders take me under their professional and personal wings as I engaged with this work.

I began to think abut the challenges we face at every level of system today. I realized that there is a huge untapped large-scale social change potential in the wisdom, experience, and perspective of younger leaders as well as children. I began to ask myself: How can we honor and use the unique contributions and gifts that reside in all of us, as a single generation, alive and awake together—whatever our age or stage of life?

Ashley: Young children are my key teachers. I learn from their honest perception of the world, bright curiosity, and playful ways of engaging life. They keep me attuned —reminding me to be in the present moment and inviting me to enthusiastically engage my whole self in the process of living.

At the same time, I’ve been greatly influenced by many older leaders and colleagues in the fields of education, process arts, conversational leadership and therapy. Relationships that bridge the lifespan have provided a strong foundation for my life and work. Youngers shake up my field of vision and invite me to see things from a totally different angle. Elders have acknowledged the value of my contributions and enabled me to stretch into the unknown edges of my capacities with greater confidence as I learn from their experiences, stories and insights.

At this time of global challenge to our common future it seems irresponsible to believe that we can make wise decisions without listening to contributions from all members of the circle of life. The wisdom of multiple generations is desperately needed. I also find life more personally exciting and fun when I am partnering across generations!

If intergenerational collaborations provide such potential for large-scale social change, why don’t we see more of it?

Juanita: Collaboration between generations has traditionally looked like grandparents reading to small children, a one-way power dynamic between professional mentors and their younger colleagues, and awkward attempts to manage a next-generation workforce. There are also strong beliefs, held by many, that “youngers are to be seen not heard,” or even that the final decision should always be made by the oldest person in the room. These cultural and societal norms and habits seem to shape so much of our thinking.

Ashley: I can relate to this personally. A colleague once said to me, “I’m older than you, I’m supposed to be wiser than you.” Not everyone will say something that direct, but I often feel that tone of a response, and sometimes it even has more of a dismissive edge. The challenge seems to be our willingness to be humble and genuinely recognize when we are learning. If new understanding is igniting inside of me because of something another person is doing or saying, I am learning from them. They are contributing to my knowing and influencing my actions and decisions. This is a precious gift and we have the opportunity to step beyond traditional boundaries and be open to learn from whoever has the wisdom of the moment to share, regardless of their age or background.

FN: Can you describe how you see your vision for the farm unfolding?

Juanita: We aren’t approaching the visioning process in the traditional manner of creating our preferred picture of the future and driving towards it. More, we are together “listening the future into being.” We are experiencing each of the four seasons and asking ourselves questions such as: What is the story of this farm and its role in the local community? How are we relating to the land and how is the land relating to us? How can we honor and deepen the legacy of my parents and of those who came before? Assuming the farm has its own voice, what is it saying to us? Sensing into the whole, what are the minimum, elegant, next steps?

Ashley: In addition to our own listening and imagining, we are inviting people who visit the farm to share their images of possibility and creative inspirations for this place. We are committed to collective intelligence informing our actions and we trust that this intuitive and collaborative approach will yield paths forward that none of us could have imagined on our own. For example, the local members of our team whose families have lived for generations in this mountain culture have helped us “see” different aspects of this place and its possibilities.

FN: What does this look like right now? How are you spending your days on the farm, Juanita?

Juanita: Each day as we work together, I’m experiencing the incredible skills of our local multi-generational team. Kenneth as the elder, along with the two youngers, Justin and Kenny,have the unique capacity to find unexpected and innovative solutions to dilemmas related to renovating our 100-year-old barn while keeping its special rustic character. In addition, when we were cleaning out my dad’s shop, I realized the range of knowledge held by people who’ve grown up in these mountains. While I’ve always respected the quality of their work, all of a sudden a whole new world opened to me. Even Justin, in his early 20s, has a range of expertise and a set of skills that I can only aspire to at some point in my life. And whereas earlier the younger members had been a bit quiet, when we entered a domain that allowed their life experience to really shine, they quickly became my teachers… helping me learn the use of unfamiliar farm implements and showing me key things related to animal care. And, I’ve done my very first baking with our own homegrown apples under the tutelage of Matilda, our 93-year-old next-door neighbor!

Ashley, as a ¨GiGi¨(girl geek!) has become my technical mentor, I am mentoring her in the next stages of her community organizing work, and we are partnering together on this farm project. Another of our team, Thomas Arthur, contributed the short video and photos about the project which accompanies this article, which I could never have imagined doing! For me, what is unique about these intergenerational collaborations is that we are each ¨giving it all we´ve got¨ within the context of the cultural and historical factors that have shaped each of our lives.

FN: What have you been learning so far that may have broader organizational, community and societal, implications?

Ashley: We’re discovering that co-mentoring is a more useful construct than traditional mentoring, eldering, or teaching. By being open to fresh perspectives and actively learning from one another’s life experiences and skills, we are accessing leverage points that far exceed our individual capacities.

Juanita: Organizations of all types are facing critical issues as Baby Boomers, now in their 50s and 60s, enter their older years in a world that is dramatically different than the one they have been operating in. Doing it the way we’ve always done it is no longer an option. Younger employees deserve to be considered equal contributors to innovative solutions rather than needing to “wait their turn.” If organizations are to thrive in these uncertain and turbulent times, these new perspectives and redefined partnerships between generations in the workplace are sorely needed.

Elders can enter the legacy stage of their lives by forming alliances with younger leaders around the crucial challenges that not only organizations but also communities are facing today. This will require a new paradigm for all generations and we want to be part of the movement that is responding to this opportunity!

We would like to express our appreciation to David Isaacs, Thomas Arthur and the diverse local team that is collaborating with us in this initial phase of our learning journey.

We’d also love to hear your reflections and experiences with intergenerational collaboration and learning—in your organizations and in your communities.

Feel free to be in touch with us at: Ashley: Ashley@easilyamazed.com  Juanita: Juanita@conversationalleadership.com   Juanita Brown, Ashley Cooper and Samantha Tan presented a Skills and Lenses for Innovation session on Multi-Generational Leadership: Shaping Tomorrow Together at the Innovation Marketplace during the ALIA Summer Institute in Columbus last June.

System Failure, System Reboot

2011-08-24T22:00:00.000-07:00

By Edd Conboy

Systems thinking has become one important way of making sense of experience in all its complexity. So much so that we sometimes forget that a “system” is a construct, and not some sort of independent “fact out there” sculpting and defining those experiences. Thinking in terms of systems does have the advantage of highlighting the interrelationships of the component parts allowing us to see just how much and how often the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. This thinking can break down at times. Most notably this can occur when systems thinking is applied beyond its engineering and cybernetic feedback roots into the realms of human interaction – from large social systems down to discrete family systems.

My field of family systems therapy for instance was critically informed by the initial research into feedback information processes that ironically were being developed during World War II to figure out how to make anti-aircraft batteries more effective against the constantly improving aircraft bombers raining havoc on Allied cities. By looking at how complex packets of information are exchanged between and among family members (especially across generations), it became possible to see how similar and predictable pathological behaviors can emerge over time in families that seem to have very little in common. This type of thinking and this type of approach continues to prove reasonably effective in clinical settings.

Recently, however, I have been working in larger social systems, and I have begun to notice the impact of the limitations of systems thinking in general, and its effects on vulnerable members of society in which the sum of the parts become greater than the whole. I’d like to describe two such experiences, and how a shift in thinking in one system (health care delivery in one part of a large, urban hospital) seems to have created the possibility for growth and change, while in another (the psychiatric component of the criminal justice system) stagnation and psychological deterioration seems to rule the day.

Last month I was asked to take part in a meeting involving Roxanne, a middle-aged shelter-resistant, homeless woman with whom I had done some work with while doing community mental health outreach. Roxanne is a super consumer of the health care services in Philadelphia, costing the city more than a million dollars this year alone. She is currently hospitalized after falling and hitting her head on one rail of the subway track beneath the platform in the train station she calls home. (Last winter, Roxanne was hospitalized for two months after a passing train amputated her right hand while she lay comatose on those same tracks.) The psychiatric nurse working with Roxanne decided to bring together everyone who had contact with her “in the system” to share information, and begin to design a treatment plan that would address Roxanne’s needs holistically. There were more than a dozen of us at this meeting who were able to share vital information about Roxanne, and her life on the streets.

From the outset I noticed was just how stupid these seemingly bright representatives of the health care system were in that moment (I certainly include myself here). Most of those at the meeting for instance thought that Roxanne’s husband, who stayed in the room with her for several weeks, was a compassionate caregiver. In fact he is not her husband. In fact he is an abusive partner, who is himself homeless, and he was able to stay in an air-conditioned room during some of the hottest days of the summer. (Many people at the meeting were medical staff who rotate through the hospital departments weekly, so only have very limited time to spend with each patient.) Roxanne, caught in a classic abusive cycle of power and control, identified this partner as her “husband”, so no one questioned his presence. Roxanne’s actual husband was convicted of attempted murder and aggravated assault several years ago, and is serving a twenty-year sentence for those crimes – crimes perpetrated against Roxanne.

Since all of us were covered by privacy and confidentiality statutes, we were able to share her medical history, although there were few surprises here. Roxanne is infected with the HIV virus, has severe liver damage due to her chronic alcoholism, high blood pressure, and impaired cognitive functioning due to her life on the streets and repeated head trauma. “The health system” has failed Roxanne repeatedly during the decade that she has been a regular guest at the hospital’s Emergency Room. The city’s social service system had also failed her repeatedly when she would be taken to shelters during severe winter storms only to have her return to the streets as soon as the weather emergency passed. System after system failed Roxanne. Until the end of that meeting.

The system changed. Or at least one member of the team in that system with considerable authority shifted the entire system, made it actually smarter. She said something I had never heard in a gathering such as this. Her clear thinking allowed the system to reboot, making it possible for Roxanne to live a much fuller life going forward. With an emotional intensity I rarely hear anywhere these days, let alone in a conference room in a hospital, she said, “It doesn’t matter what it costs, Roxanne is not leaving this hospital until we are all satisfied that we have a plan in place that will address her needs, especially her need to be safe.”

Suddenly, the system that had been an abject failure was transformed into a team of smart, dedicated professionals invested in the health and well-being of Roxanne, this person of no rank and certainly no status…

Note: The second installment of this series can be found here: System Failure, System Frozen.

Endings and Beginnings

2011-08-16T17:31:00.000-07:00

By Chris Phillips

“What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.” —T. S. Eliot

The very first Socrates Café dialogue I held at Collage II coffee house in 1996 in Montclair, New Jersey, was on the question, “What are beginnings?” Part and parcel of the exploration of that question was an examination of questions like, “Is a beginning the same as a first? Does every beginning have an ending?” The Socrates Café group in Montclair has not had an ending; it continues to meet every Tuesday evening after all these years, though it’s had to change location a few times. Hundreds of others meet regularly across the globe. It’s been thrilling to see Socrates Café take on a life of its own. In 1998, the nonprofit Society for Philosophical Inquiry was founding to support ‘Socratizing’ wherever it emerged and hopefully as a result help makes ours a more thoughtful and inclusive society and even a more participatory democracy. The Whitman Institute was its first funder (and I believe it was the first nonprofit to which TWI offered support) and was essentially its only funder for many moons.

Thirteen years is a good long run for a small nonprofit. It’s been a great ride. We’ve decided to give up our nonprofit status, though we plan for the foreseeable future to continue to maintain the philosopher.org website and of course to sing the praises of and support Socrates Cafes and Socrates Café-type gatherings (and there will be two more issues still of Socrates Café magazine).

I’m now in the throes of launching an exciting new nonprofit initiative, Democracy Café, which builds on and expands the objectives of SPI. Democracy Café’s stated objectives and purposes are:

a) to come to a greater understanding of the nature and future of democracy, and to influence its nature and future;

b) to expand the public debate about politics and democracy, and to challenge prevailing assumptions about deference to political leadership and elites, since genuine self-determination and full enfranchisement hinges on direct, continual, active participation by the entire citizenry;

c) to demonstrate that the art and science of government – and of government creation itself -- falls well within the comprehension and capacity of ordinary citizens;

d) to create a groundswell of support for a movement that gives ordinary citizens direct input in ‘constitution creation,’ since genuine self-determination and full enfranchisement hinges on such input;

e) to celebrate political ‘unlikemindedness’ as a hallmark of democracy, and potentially create ‘higher coalitions’ or alliances of the politically marginalized (defined for our purposes as anyone from any walk of life or political disposition who feels his or her voice is not heard or heeded in the political sphere) and concerned and compassionate;

f) to publish a quarterly newsletter, and also to create a dedicated political network with a central component in cyberspace that serves to further facilitate the realization of the aforementioned objectives, but as a principal means to facilitate effective face-to-face gatherings;

g) to promote, through a variety of ‘café’ activities that can lead to concrete initiatives, the Jeffersonian pursuit of happiness, the realization of which not only demands universal and continuous participation by ordinary Americans (indeed, of people of all walks of life everywhere) in the public sphere.

h) to work towards the realization of ‘democracy without borders.’

There is little question that the idea for Democracy Café would never have germinated if not for fifteen rich years of engaging in thousands of Socrates Café dialogues. In that light, Socrates Café and SPI are not ending; rather, Democracy Café is being born out of that endeavor, and hopefully it too will enjoy a good long ride.

The centerpiece of Democracy Café for the foreseeable future its ‘Constitution Café’ dialogue project, and I’ve written a book, Constitution Café: Jefferson’s Brew for a True Revolution, that will be released on August 22 by my longtime publisher W.W. Norton.

Here’s a description of, and hopefully a compelling justification for, the Constitution Café project:

A nationwide poll conducted in 2010 by the nonprofit, nonpartisan Center for the Constitution revealed that an overwhelming majority of Americans recognize that the U.S. Constitution has a huge impact on their everyday lives. It also revealed that while most older Americans believe the Constitution is fine just as it is, a significant number of young Americans of voting age believe the Constitution needs to be overhauled so that it is more responsive to and reflective of the needs of a modern democratic society.

And yet.... the same poll also reveals that very few Americans have actually read the Constitution -- even though supposedly it's required reading in schools!

If we actually were inspired to read the Constitution, how would we feel about it? Would we want to change it, and if so, which parts? Or would we want to hold a new Constitutional Convention and rewrite the whole thing?

What if reading the Constitution, and reading great history and political science texts about how it came to be, isn’t in and of itself enough to gain a real appreciation for the supreme law of the land? What if, in order to really appreciate what a democratic Constitution is all about, and how it can make or break a democracy over the long haul, we have to take part in the process of ‘constitution creation’?

What if we engaged in a 'constitutional thought experiment'? What if we held a ‘new’ Constitutional Convention of sorts, and acted as if we were the Framers? Using existing constitutional articles as the starting point, would we come to a more profound understanding of and appreciation for the amazing document created by our Framers -- even or especially if we decided to redo the articles? Would we be able to practice imaginative reasonableness, careful listening and equal recognition as we scrutinize a wide variety of proposals, inviting compelling objections and alternatives? Would we be able to reach creative compromise and consensus or even achieve a higher ground?

Enter Constitution Café.

Constitution Café is a space dedicated to the Jeffersonian idea of democratic freedom. Thomas Jefferson derided those who looked at constitutions “like the ark of the covenant, too sacred to be touched.” He believed that such people “ascribe to the men of the preceding age a wisdom more than human.” To him, “We might as well require a man to wear still the coat which fitted him when a boy as civilized society to remain ever under the regimen of their barbarous ancestors.” Jefferson’s visionary antidote for societal stasis in American democracy, as he told the historian Sam Kercheval, was to take periodically “as a tally, every provision of our constitution, and see if it hangs directly on the will of the people.” Those provisions that turn out not to reflect the people’s will, he believed, should be entirely redone. “Let us then go on perfecting [the Constitution],” he urged, by supplanting “those powers which time and trial show are still wanting.”

Constitution Café springs from this idea: What if Jefferson’s radical proposal was put to the test in some way today? To be sure, he had in mind that this constitutional makeover would be undertaken every 20 years, and over 200 years have passed since he first proposed it. But better late than never.

Constitution Café is a space in which actual and aspiring Americans grapple with how they would sculpt the United States Constitution if they could start from scratch. The constitutional articles that participants construct often address perceived flaws, loopholes and omissions in the Constitution. At times this leads to significant revisions by Constitution Café participants of existing articles or the creation of altogether new ones. The articles that are not meant to be the last word, just a starting point for deeper debate. A paramount objective with the Constitution Café project is to spur greater civic engagement, especially among young people, who all too often are left out altogether, and to instill much keener and deeper appreciate for the amazing existing document crafted by our Framers.

In the course of these exchanges, Constitution Café-goers at times question whether those elected officials who’ve sworn to uphold the existing Constitution are obeying or betraying its strictures. Even more often, they arrive at insights about whether our current Constitution, and the institutions it props up (and that in turn prop it up), are impediments to, or facilitators of, our higher democratic hopes and dreams. This in turn can prompt thoughtful exchanges on whether our Constitution -- as Barack Obama, former professor of constitutional law, maintains – has “proved a sufficient defense against tyranny,” or whether we need “to heed Jefferson’s advice to engage in a revolution every two or three generations.”

In making their case for articles to a new Constitution, those taking part reason, persuade, argue, and bend over backwards to ensure that everyone has the opportunity to introduce and convince others to support his or her big constitutional ideas (usually a two-thirds majority approves the final language for any given article crafted by the group). For as Thomas Jefferson had it, one “cannot have his way in all things” when engaged in such democratic deliberations, but must “acquiesce on seeing that of others preponderate at other times.” Indeed, “(w)ithout this mutual disposition,” Jefferson asserted shortly after he became president -- at a time when deep political rifts already were developing among Americans -- “we are disjointed individuals, but not a society.”

Come join us at Constitution Café, and be part of “a society” of the sort Jefferson envisioned – a society in which self-determination is driven and indeed ‘determined’ by how much input everyday citizens have in formulating foundational laws.

The project has touched a chord among people of widely different political stripes, and it also has received position pre-publication reviews. Hopefully it will continue to spark a much-need conversation among diverse folks about our Constitution.

And now, here’s my publisher’s press release about my Constitution Café book:

“Engaging and informative…in an era of hyper-partisanship, it’s refreshing to read instances of Americans from all political persuasions holding rational, respectful, and thought-provoking conversations with one another.” —Publisher’s Weekly

“A provocative extension of Jefferson’s original plan.” —Kirkus

“As an exploration of current governmental theory and philosophy, the book provides an excellent framework for conducting similar discussions.” —Library Journal

“Phillips stays fairly neutral throughout, teasing out ideas that seem, given today’s toxic political climate, almost unconventional in their reasonableness…The end result is a vigorous rethinking of America’s legal framework.” —Booklist

“The United States needs constitutional change, but how to get it done? Christopher Phillips has the right answer. Get Americans talking to Americans about how we can improve our nation. Phillips has combined the approach of Socrates and the wisdom of Jefferson to show us the way.” —Dr. Larry J. Sabato, author of A More Perfect Constitution and Director of the University of Virginia Center for Politics

“A truly radical and deeply patriotic book, Constitution Café illustrates the power and promise of democracy, using the extra-ordinary conversations of ordinary citizens to re-animate the founding ideas and documents of this country. America needs this book...now!” —Stephen Duncombe, author of Dream: Re-Imagining Progressive Politics in an Age of Fantasy

"This book represents the best of American democracy -- the irreverent and perpetual questioning of authority and received wisdom. Christopher Phillips dares to suggest that we should smash open the Constitution's glass case and hand it to the people the Founding Fathers called the "mob." With infinite curiosity and an intellectual integrity that is rare among professional thinkers, Phillips says about the bible of American tradition the unthinkable, the glorious, and the liberating: let it rip.” —Thaddeus Russell, author of A Renegade History of the United States

A central feature of modern political life in the United States is public veneration of the Constitution. The Constitution forms the basis of our understanding of the rights of citizens, it is the last argument of politicians across the political spectrum, and it has the moral gravity of secular scripture. This modern reverence makes Thomas Jefferson's opinion of the Constitution all the more shocking: Jefferson, author of the Declaration of Independence and third president of the United States, believed that Americans should get together every twenty years and rewrite the Constitution to meet their current needs. Essentially, every generation of Americans would rip up the Constitution and start again. In CONSTITUTION CAFÉ: Jefferson's Brew for a True Revolution, bestselling author and scholar Christopher Phillips puts Jefferson's radical idea to the test and asks Americans from all walks of life to create a new Constitution.

For over fifteen years, Christopher Phillips has been facilitating national philosophy discussion groups as part of his Socrates Café project. In these meetings, Americans from Main Street to Wall Street, from across racial and economic barriers, gather together to explore timeless existential problems through reasoned and thoughtful discussions. During one of these meetings, the discussion turned to President Obama's memoir, The Audacity of Hope, and Obama's statement that it's "hard to shake the feeling these days that our democracy has gone seriously awry." Reminded of Jefferson's scheme for keeping America's political life fresh and vibrant, Phillips decided to launch a thought experiment on a national scale. Phillips traveled from Colonial Williamsburg to the Mall of America, from the Burning Man arts and culture festival to Boy Scout troop meetings, and asked everyday Americans to reinvent the Constitution. The results are surprising:

● A collection of surfers from Southern California, replace our existing presidential election process with a process that blends the intense scrutiny of modern presidential debates with the raucous competition of reality television.

● A group of pacifists and soldiers who make military service mandatory for all citizens.

● On Ellis Island, a well-read and financially conscientious daughter of immigrants writes the words of Shakespeare into the Constitution, declaring that Congress "shall neither a borrower or a lender be. For loan oft loses itself and friend, and borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry."

● A group of grade school students in the Southwest concoct an audacious idea to end all personal inheritance and, instead, funnel the money into a wealth distribution scheme that guarantees every citizen $50,000 on their eighteenth birthday. Though, anybody who “does bad” after their eighteenth birthday must return the money.

From gun control to the Constitutional protection of corporate rights, from the limits of free speech to immigration policies, Phillips’ lively, friendly, and informal conversation pieces show everyday American tackling the most important political problems of our time and coming up with solutions from the absurd to the profound. Throughout these engagements with the new framers, Phillips weaves short vignettes about Thomas Jefferson's role in the early republic, emphasizing the often ignored radicalism of the basic tenants of democracy and giving readers an image of the Founding Fathers as inspired, but sometimes flawed, human beings.

An image of a political culture free from the profitable rancor and echo chamber talking points that dominate modern media, CONSTITUTION CAFÉ is a needed corrective to the unfortunate popular image of Americans as an apathetic, narrowly partisan people. Phillips offers a hopeful portrait of a people who, working together, move beyond party lines to understand the challenges modern America faces. The Constitution Café project proves that the political creativity that defined Jefferson's infant democracy is still alive and well in America.

A Fundamental Review of Fundamentalism

2011-08-01T14:58:00.000-07:00

By Pia Infante

Andrew Himes recently published a fascinating look at his family's history and relationship with religious fundamentalism called Sword of the Lord. With the notion of fundamentalism, in recent years, being associated primarily with terrorism or irrationality, this complex and nuanced dialectic about it, from the perspective of a son and grandson of fundamentalist preachers, offers a fresh look at what seems to be a very old story.

This book is at the top of my summer reading list, and while still in the first chapters, it is proving to be an engaging read. I visited the website recently and found an interview of Andrew that may be of interest to you, whether you take a gander at Sword of the Lord or not.

My interest in strategies that open the possibility for dialogue across difference are definitely piqued here...

And do let us know, as Edd did earlier this year - what's at the top of your reading list?

Empires of Illusion

2011-07-27T09:43:00.000-07:00

By Les Adler

A quirky, but striking piece of public art, leavened with a twist of Central European humor, marks a downtown street corner in the Slovakian capital city of Bratislava.

One comes across it suddenly: a life-sized bronze figure in a hard hat or helmet, head resting on hands, partly emerged from a man-hole in the middle of the sidewalk. Is it a peeper peeking under women’s skirts? Is it a political satire on working life in this former Communist land, reflecting the old bargain that “we’ll pretend to work and you’ll pretend to pay us”? Is it a modern philosophical reference to Plato’s Cave? A playful reminder of the largely invisible underworld of pipes, sewers, power lines and workers it takes to sustain civilization? Perhaps just an artistic prank designed to add a distinctive flavor and draw tourism to this newly-independent, lesser-known half of the former Czechoslovak state?

Or is it, as I’m now thinking, a larger comment about the world of illusion in which we all live, and our only partly-successful efforts to pull ourselves out of individual or collective states of unconsciousness into the clear light of day or reason? Nearby Vienna, only a few miles up-river, after-all, was Freud’s hometown.

Often it takes a piece of absurdist art like this—or a view of staggeringly absurd political theater like Communism in its dotage or Washington in its current debt-limit manifestation—to stop people in their tracks and cause them to reflect on where we are and what we have become.

Like the statue in the sidewalk, we’re in constant danger of being ignored, trampled or even swept away in the crowded rush of unfolding events and ever more manipulated images surrounding us. But look more closely at his pose and what he might have to say to us. A thoughtful, even faraway look and the curve of a curious smile animate his face. His left forefinger is slightly raised, as if to draw attention to a point or object he wants to discuss that has just come to mind.

This is definitely not Rodin’s Thinker, fully emerged, naked, alone and lost in profound thought on his rock, but perhaps an equally recognizable human reference. It may be the anonymous individual, only partly visible or realized, taking time out to reflect, think, and most notably, engage in an ongoing dialogue both with unseen colleagues and with those of us willing to stop and listen.

If Philanthropy is Strategic What About Nonprofits?

2011-07-12T20:16:00.000-07:00

By Jill Blair

On June 22^nd Chris Gates, Executive Director of PACE (Philanthropy for Active Civic Engagement), wrote a blog post for TWI in which he argued that in this “new world” of “strategic philanthropy” nonprofits need to approach funders with an appreciation for their experience in and knowledge of the field – to consider philanthropy not just as a source of capital but a source of wisdom as well. He suggests that once upon a time there was a more patient philanthropic sector – willing to give a good idea and an inspiring leader a chance, but NOW the world has shifted to greater accountability and expectations for results.

Initially I found myself disagreeing with Chris…fundamentally – on the issue of the “good old days” and also the days since then. But instead of leading with argument, I will pause and offer the following.

Financial philanthropy (meaning giving away money – not just time) started in this country with wealthy men who turned their attention from wealth creation to social problem solving. And in that frame of the “good old days of philanthropy” Andrew Carnegie both defined the problem (lack of literacy and proper education) and the solution – libraries. One could argue, using Chris’ description of strategic philanthropy, that Carnegie paved that road one hundred years ago – he was the original strategic philanthropist.

Between then and now what we have witnessed is an explosion of nonprofit endeavors – many starting as volunteer efforts that converted over time into nonprofit corporate entities – with boards of directors and self-defined intentions for doing good. And at the same time, philanthropic institutions proliferated and professionalized. In this frame, the world began to divide between those who DO the work and those who PAY for it. Chris implies that in this same world the Program Officer plays the equivalent of a lending role (without the payback). In this world, and at that time, the foundation’s capital is used to underwrite the building of a social sector situated at least in theory to solve problems.

But time passed and the world has changed – or has it?

Over time nonprofit and philanthropic corporate entities have evolved. They evolved their understanding of the sector within which they were operating – a sector bereft of methods, manuals and measures of success; they evolved their understanding of the depth of the problems they were intending to solve – moving from symptom-based to systemic-solutions; and they evolved their understanding of their own capacity and contributions – with nonprofits beginning to resist the temptation to over promise and foundations beginning to assess their expectations and whether a more active and directive role might better position them for achieving success.

In this “new world” we have more and more philanthropic institutions that not only focus on very specific problems, but consider themselves to be part of and therefore responsible for solutions. In this “new world” we have more and more nonprofit corporations that broker the world of problems and solutions by serving as intermediaries – platforms for capacity-building, research, knowledge management and service delivery – agile and willing to apply expertise across any number of issues (problems and questions) in order to produce positive results (solutions and answers).

Is this a paradigm shift for philanthropy or are we witnessing philanthropy returning to its roots of both defining the problem and the solution? Is this a paradigm shift for nonprofits? Perhaps it is –perhaps nonprofits are moving from mostly mission-minded to mostly mercenary.

Back to Chris’ post…he urges nonprofits to reconsider their relationship to this “new philanthropy” where funders are coming to the table not only with a bucket of money but with a point of view. I do agree with Chris. We are in a moment of transition if not transformation in the social problem-solving sector – and the burden is on nonprofits now to find themselves in this new world – to discover, perhaps rediscover, their purpose, power and possibility.

Hillbilly Nationalists, Urban Race Rebels, and Black Power

2011-07-02T16:16:00.000-07:00

By Pia Infante

James Tracy, TWI community member, has co-authored a new book that offers, among other tenets, a call for uncommon conversations and unlikely allies.

The following are a few thoughts from James about the project:

Can you tell us a bit more about James Tracy?

I was born in Oakland and mostly raised in Vallejo, CA. I was an accidental activist pretty early on. One day, a few friends and I cut school and snuck out to San Francisco for a punk concert that never happened. We stumbled upon a clergy led anti-nuclear demonstration in front of the Federal Building. That night the ABC News ran a story about a "Punk and Priest" protest, prominently featuring all of our mugs. I was suspended from school for a few weeks but spent that time the public library studying protest movements and social change. Upon returning to school, I organized my first group Students and Teachers Against Nuclear Destruction, and then went to the next anti-nuclear demonstration as an officially chartered student group.

What are the inspirations and motivations for your new book? How did the project/collaboration come about?

I first heard about the Young Patriots Organization through one of my mentors, Malik Rahim, a former Black Panther Party member from New Orleans. He recalled seeing a bunch of white guys with Confederate Flags on their hats running armed security for Chicago Panther member Fred Hampton. He said he figured that if they could learn how to move beyond racism, there was hope for the rest of us as well!

I originally just wanted to write an article about the Patriots, but as I dug around, I found out about the other fascinating groups of working-class whites who were organizing alongside radical (activists) of color. It was my goal to interview the rank and file, not the leftist icons. At some point, I envisioned a Studs Terkel-like book of oral histories, but it quickly evolved into political creative non-fiction. It turned out that someone I was acquainted with, Amy Sonnie, was working on a similar project. We decided to team up and create a book together. It's been a winning combination ever since.

The groups we write about were part of an experiment in the New Left. How to build an inclusive class politics that was not race blind? How to organize a community many wrote off as hopelessly racist and expected to be the shock troops of reaction? With the rise of the Tea Party movement today, these questions are just as important now.

In a media-saturated, message-prolific, often overwhelming marketplace of ideas, why a book?

A book is not the best way to grab someone's attention anymore. However, if someone reads a book, I believe that the ideas stay with them for much longer than a television show or website. We're looking forward to figuring out ways to spread the discussion through other medium as well. There's just no way that a writing team made up of a Librarian and an Adult Education teacher will ever completely abandon books! The renowned filmmaker Ray Santesbian is making a documentary on this subject due out in a few years. Rising Up Angry veteran Mike James is planning a book of photos. In the fall, Amy and I are going to be on the road for weeks on tour, and making a ton of radio appearances.

What's the golden nugget message in the book?

Political consciousness is shaped by the efforts of those who want to change the world. No one is born reactionary, or progressive for that matter. If we want to move the dial, we need to take risks by reaching out beyond our comfort zones and build real alliances.

More Than Money - Foundations As Strategic Partners

2011-06-22T09:49:00.000-07:00

By Chris Gates, Executive Director,
PACE - Philanthropy for Active Civic Engagement

As one of 38 affinity groups of the Council on Foundations, people are often confused about the role that we play in the philanthropic sector. PACE, and other affinity groups like it, works as a learning collaborative of funders doing work in the fields of civic engagement and democratic theory and practice. We think together, we share information, we learn together and we use each other as sounding boards. But we're a learning collaborative, not a funding collaborative, so when folks either send me proposals or ask for specific fundraising advice, I'm often at a loss about what kind of advice I can or should provide.

But after a fair amount of reflection, I've decided there is one piece of advice about philanthropy that I can offer without equivocation, and that is for non-profits to view foundations as a source of something more than money. Too often non-profits come to program officers who have been funding work in their fields for years, even decades, and simply make an ask for money, without ever first having a conversation about the goals and the nature of the work being proposed. The truth is that the days of foundations doing business as venture capitalists for social entrepreneurs are long gone. In those days some funders would simply make a grant to an interesting person with an interesting idea who might have a promising track record, and then see what happened. In that old world of a more patient philanthropy there were only two possible outcomes, either the project would succeed or the field would learn something from it's failure.

The field of philanthropy no longer has that much patience, or that kind of appetite for failure, and now the phrase that best describes the current state of much of the field is 'strategic philanthropy'. This is a concept where the funder is more of a partner with the grantee, both in the goals and intentions of the work and in the mechanics of how that work takes place. There is a larger premium placed on partnership and, frankly, a larger premium placed on success. Foundations are interested in seeing progress in real time and so have become much more committed to funding work that will result in measurable progress within the time-span of the grant. On the downside, 'strategic philanthropy' can sometimes turn into situations where foundations simply negotiate what amounts to a contract for a book of work from a non-profit. In these instances the foundation is very much in charge and serves as the designer and director of the work. But in other instances non-profits and foundations can become creative partners in the process of indentifying promising avenues for social change and build on their collective knowledge to create cutting edge strategies that make a real difference in real time.

So the best advice I can give to non-profits is to do your research, find foundations who might be logical partners in your work based on their past funding, get to know them, learn about what matters to them, ask them what they think, be willing to float ideas--not proposals--past them and think of them as allies and partners in your work. There is no doubt that the relationship between the non-profit sector and the philanthropic community isn't what it used to be and is in the process of evolving, and that has the prospect of either being a really good thing or presenting a real challenge.

Utopian Storytelling

2011-06-17T11:49:00.000-07:00

By John Esterle

What does utopia mean to you?

For most of us the word conjures up images of an idyllic world -- so idyllic in fact as to be seen as something that's completely unrealistic or has an inevitable dark, social engineering side to it. Filmmaker Sam Green creatively explores different facets of the notion of utopia and the utopian impluse in both his new documentary, The Universal Language (TWI provided some support) and in his "live" documentary, Utopia in Four Movements, which he's taken on the road this past year.

The Universal Language is a lovely profile of Esperanto, tinged with hope and sadness, humor and humanity. Watch for it when it comes out. I haven't seen Utopia in Four Movements yet but I hope to someday as it sounds like a compelling answer to a question I often wonder about: What sticks in a media saturated world?

I had a very stimulating lunch with Sam yesterday and we covered a lot of territory in our conversation, including themes that often crop up in this blog: the importance of storytelling, of language, and of attending to how we engage with each other to imagine and create a better world.

Here's a quote from an interview Sam did that particularly resonates with me:

"I'm not so interested in "a utopia" -- some kind of place or society that would be utopia. I'm much more interested in the Utopian -- a moment or gesture or act that evokes a radically better world. Art, I think, can certainly do this. In fact, art is very well-suited for the task. My own personal feeling is that art that is proscriptive, that flattens things out to bullet points and clear-cut answers is often dull. What I like is art that embraces complexity and contradiction and the messiness of human experience and who we are. I like art that opens up possibilities."

Besides agreeing with what he says here, I'm struck at how I could replace "art" with "dialogue" and it have it still ring true for me.

Anyway, as I look out my window on a sunny San Francisco day (it's been cold and gray a lot lately) I'm thinking of how dreaming big links with being in the moment, and of how TWI's vision is grounded in -- dare I say -- a Utopian belief that we can transform our world one conversation, one connection, one relationship at a time.

Giving on the Right-Side of the Brain: Beauty = Truth

2011-06-08T20:41:00.000-07:00

By CJ Callen

"Beauty is truth, truth beauty - that is all ye know on earth, and all ye need to know” – Jon Keats

"All truths are easy to understand once they are discovered; the point is to discover them.” - Galileo Galilei

Once I took a night class on “drawing on the right-side of the brain” based on the book of the same title. The instructor asked us to draw a flower and so I dutifully conjured up from my head that lame representative image that I placed on paper. Next she placed a real flower on the table and talked to us about using our right brain to see the flower. I then drew a flower, capturing its intricate lines and its spirit – the real beauty of nature in front of me. I was startled; I can draw! I sometimes show people the “before and after” drawings and they cannot believe that the same person did both. Truth is stranger than fiction.

That was a powerful lesson about the difference between using the left brain (logical, sequential, rational, analytical, objective, looks at parts) and using the right brain (random, intuitive, holistic, synthesizing, sees the whole). Since then, I have let go to tap into my right-brain, which is oddly predominant given I am a trained lawyer (but not so odd given that I am also a daydreamer and student of philosophy). As a board member of a foundation with an unusual and explicit focus on process, I delight at the opportunities to put my right brain to use to engage in some right-brained philanthropy. Yes, that does exist and there even is a blog spot devoted to the subject http://rightbrainphilanthropy.blogspot.com/

I would like to add to the conversation the notion of the art of philanthropy. I ask others to think of the promising possibilities that would emerge if philanthropy embraced right-brained approaches that are driven by aesthetics. And since truth is beauty, well, you can see where I am going.

For all that philanthropy is doing to help solve the world’s problems, it is set-up for failure if its “house of problem-solving” is not built on truth. My simple proposition is that using the right brain to see the true lines and complexity of everything – whether flower, social construct, or pressing social issue – is indispensable to forging real solutions. A strategy is really just a proposition and those are more likely to test well and seed solutions if firmly planted in the truth.

Now sometimes that truth might not be as beautiful as a flower but it will have its own beauty, sure enough. I always say that the one thing that inspires me is “beauty” and everything falls from that.

If philanthropy re-organizes itself on this principle by moving confidently into solidly right-brain territory and leading like artists inspired by beauty/truth, I can only imagine what fruits it/we might bare. If nothing else, it/we have nothing to lose in trying it on for size since the world is in dire need of saving. My wish: let philanthropy discover its own truth and beauty through deeper appreciation and valuation of all things right-brained.

At TWI we are having a board retreat this summer and now I have a new goal: working with my fellow board members and the TWI staff and leadership on ways that we as a foundation can model right-brained philanthropy.

If you’re interested, I will let you know how it goes. Oh heck, I will let you know anyway because it sounds like a good story worth telling.

Milllenials: From the Next Generation to the Now Generation

2011-06-03T13:33:00.000-07:00

By Pia Infante

Whenever I hear the phrase "the next generation," the first notion that comes to mind is the Star Trek: Next Generation t.v. series which ran from 1987 to 1994. Wow. As I write this I'm realizing this is not a current pop culture reference - dating me as the Gen X'er that I am!

I use it here to refer to Millennials - the generation born roughly between 1980 and 2000. And I've been reminded of the phrase because I was pleased to see that a couple of Millennial leaders from our TWI midst have been recently recognized as folks who have already stepped into their potential as the Now generation, not the Next.

Congratulations Ayofemi Kirby, of mobilize.org, and Amy Lazarus, of Sustained Dialogue Campus Network!

The Independent Sector has announced Ayofemi and Amy as members of the 2011 American Express NGen Fellows. This 9-month fellowship is designed to expand and develop the (under 40) non-profit leadership pool's leadership skills and practices.

Ayofemi is the Director of Strategy and Programs for mobilize.org, a long time grantee partner of TWI's and Amy is the Executive Director of the Sustained Dialogue Campus Network, a newer grantee partner of ours.

We are delighted to see their leadership acknowledged and curious to understand how TWI might better support the trajectory of Now vs. Next.

Life 4.0: Bringing the worlds together

2011-05-25T13:51:00.000-07:00

By Kyra Epstein

“Our modern western civilization began with a kind of cultural schizophrenia. Our scientific enterprise effectively decoupled itself from our humanistic-spiritual traditions at the beginning of the modern period…we can perhaps dare to ask if this was such a good idea, this splitting up of the universe.”
--Brian Swimme, The Universe Is a Green Dragon

Do you ever feel like your life is divided into little compartments? Open up one "file" and you are at work, open another and there is your family; others hold community or passionate hobbies?

I have felt like that, particularly since my life has led me in such seemingly disparate directions: writing/communications in the energy efficiency field, teaching as an adjunct professor in Colorado, pursuit of many mystical/spiritual traditions, studying and starting a small business in herbal healing and teas.

Earlier in my life, my 20s and 30s, I embraced this kind of fast-paced multi-tasking--especially since it meant I didn't have to have one full-time job sitting in an office all day. It was a challenge to see how all the pieces would get accomplished, to grow the contents of each "file" and hold all the pieces together. Working primarily with scientists and engineers—and growing up with mathematicians—I never questioned why it seemed inappropriate to bring emotion into a discussion, talk about creative process, or be anything other than an efficient and logical professional. The messy, wild, colorful and mysterious parts of myself were tucked away until after hours, if they even appeared then.

Now that I am in my 40s, I'm not as eager a multi-tasker, and I don't have nearly as much energy. Tendrils of my hair, once kept back straight in a hairclip, have begun to escape in unruly protest. I have felt a growing desire to see all the file folders merged.

I want to be able to be the same person when I'm working with a scientist from the Department of Energy that I am when I'm distilling essential oil from lavender, hiking in the new moon dark, spending time with friends/family, or when I'm with my aging parents. I want the messy and colorful to mingle with the efficient; the logical with the wild and mysterious. I want to be more fully me, all of the time.

I see my work with The New School at Commonweal, which I started almost a year ago, as one precious response to the intention for integration. Commonweal is a place where many of these parts of myself can come together. It is one of the most eclectic organizations I’ve been involved with, and it is a great container, holding all the parts of all of us that work there together.

As an example, I can arrive at work, share in a group meditation as part of a planning meeting, help host a scientist as she speaks about toxics in the environment, participate in a series of emotional discussions on end-of-life issues, and serve herbal tea to a group that truly understands the connection between plants, the earth, and healing. The file folders dissolve, and there are no "roles," only what we each bring to the discussion, to the group, and to the effort at hand.

I see Commonweal as a model for how we can begin to integrate and heal our selves just as we are working to integrate our communities and heal the earth. It's been a launching pad for me to meet other people and organizations (like The Whitman Institute) on similar journeys. And it is a safe place for testing the waters. With any luck, and another few decades of experience, I'll begin to cure the "cultural schizophrenia" within myself and help to bring the worlds together again.

No time for Learning?

2011-05-18T15:10:00.000-07:00

By John Esterle

May 19, 2011

How do you build in learning when there's no time to learn?

Grantcraft asked its readers (primarily grantmakers) that question and over 1,400 people responded. Grantcraft has captured the major themes that emerged from this survey in a concise new paper they just put out. Here are their main recommendations:

1. Establish a culture of learning by building learning into routine processes.
2. Raise the profile of learning by noticing when it happens and naming it explicitly.
3. Cultivate personal habits of learning that work for you.
4. Try new activities - but choose wisely and keep things simple.

They also note that a supportive learning environment has four characteristics: psychological safety, appreciation of differences, openness to new ideas, and time for reflection. I applaud Grantcraft for raising up the importance of learning but I must say that part of me felt really saddened by the paper's premise that there's no time to learn for many grantmakers. If that's the case, there's something really wrong with that picture and I'm afraid their recommendations might only nibble at the edges of rectifying it.

As I read I also couldn't help but wonder if we're overloading multiple meanings on the word learning in a way that's akin to what we sometimes do with leadership. These words become catch-all umbrellas that provide cover in sense for a lot of processes and characteristics. The paper quotes people who frequently mention how important it is to create time to reflect, to ask questions, to engage in different kinds of discussions and conversations, so what if we started using some of that language to explicitly describe the organizational cultures we want to create rather than learning?

How would we react to this paper be if it was titled, "How do you build in critical thinking when there's no time to think?" Does that feel edgier? More challenging? What if we talked about thinking organizations rather than learning organizations? We could even talk about creating supportive critical thinking environments and use the same criteria as above: psychological safety, appreciation of differences, openness to ideas, and time for reflection.

In short, what if we started raising the importance of critical thinking within philanthropy? Because if we're not creating the time to really think in and across our organizations (isn't learning linked to thinking?) what are we doing? Where is all that time going? Like TWI's tag line says, it's time to think for a change.

Whose Story?

2011-05-10T16:05:00.000-07:00

May 10, 2011

By Jill Blair

Shalom!

Context: I proudly chair the board of TWI and hold a deep and abiding commitment to the power of process and dialogue. I live according to the belief that it is only what we work our way through in words and feelings that we are able to truly embrace and embody. I have always relied on stories to help me understand and to convey my understanding to others.

Living & Learning Abroad

Today is May 10, 2011. I am seated at our breakfast/dining table in our rental apartment in Jerusalem, Israel. Our family has been living here since August 2, 2010 and we are scheduled to remain until August 15, 2011. My partner, Fay, was offered an opportunity to work here for the year and she and I agreed that a year-abroad would be a growth experience for us and our two children. We have always been deeply attached to this country– by our religion, family, friends and fundamentally by our beliefs. Throughout this year I have kept a log to monitor our experiences and reactions to them. Sometimes I have used the log as a therapeutic tool to work my way through complicated matters. Kismet placed us here in the Middle East during interesting and turbulent times – the politics of the region that are ordinarily intense and complex have been more so – with uprisings and public demands for democracy and decency in governance and leadership.

As we enter our fourth and final quarter of this remarkable adventure, I am struck by how much I have learned and how much more there is to learn – in particular about the meaning of story. Story is never neutral, never new, and still necessary.

Happening Here…

This past week, including now today, are very important times in the State of Israel. Last week was Yom HaShoah – Holocaust Remembrance Day; yesterday, Monday, was Yom HaZikaron – honoring those who have given their lives in defense of Israel; and today, Tuesday, is Yom Ha’atzmaut – Israeli Independence Day, celebrating the establishment of the State of Israel.

My son and daughter attend an American International School here in Jerusalem. I volunteer there three days a week – mostly in the 4^th grade classroom. The school of 100 students is a complicated quilt of colors, religions and languages with children from all over the world. The only thing they have in common are parents who want them educated in English.

Last week, on Yom HaShoah, the fourth grade teacher and I talked with the children about Anne Frank – who she was and what happened to her and her family. We had photographs up on the screen and short essays we read aloud. To commemorate those who died during the Holocaust, at precisely 10:00 a.m., sirens rang across the entire country for a full two minutes. Everyone stopped what they were doing. If you were driving on the highway, you stopped your car and got out. If you were walking to the market, you stopped your steps and stood still. After the lesson and the sirens, we asked the fourth graders to reflect on the meaning of what we had learned and witnessed. We asked them to write words or draw pictures – and we asked them to share.

Logan raised his hand and in an unsettled voice, began to read what he had written. “If I was alive during the Holocaust I would have been in the army in Germany and I would have been doing these terrible things to the Jews.”

The teacher and I caught one another’s eyes.

Whose story?

Yesterday was, Yom HaZikaron. At 11:00 a.m. the sirens blared once again. This time, the fourth grade teacher and I were particularly sensitive to how we described the meaning of this day. We explained, “Today we honor the fallen,” careful not to say more. In fact, Yom HaZikaron is specifically a day of remembrance of those who have died in the wars that Israel has endured in its struggle for independence and survival. It is solemn. Across the country high schools hold ceremonies in honor of their alumni who have fallen. Soldiers swarm the streets…there is a huge ceremony at the grave of Theodore Herzl – just down the street from where we are now living. The Israeli flag flies at half-mast.

One of our son’s closest friends is an Arab Israeli who is also a Muslim. He listens to our explanation of the day and pipes up, “I am not allowed to fight in the army…my religion prevents me from fighting against my own people.”

Whose story?

As Yom HaZikaron drew to a close last night, fireworks ushered in the start of Israeli Independence Day. The flag of Israel returned to full mast. Today there will be barbecues across the country. But most Palestinians and even some Arab Israelis who live in and are citizens of the State of Israel, observe this day as “Nakba,” – a tragic day, literally translated it means “catastrophe.”

Whose story?

The Meaning of Sound…

The sirens that echo across the country in honor of these events are the same sires that are used to warn us of rocket or missile attacks. In this latter case, we are also expected to stop in our tracks – and then find a “safe” and “sealed” room to avoid injury.

At dinner last night, before taking our daughter to a party outside of Jerusalem, our son asked the following, “What would happen if there was a rocket attack at the exact same moment that there is a siren commemorating Yom HaZikaron? How would we know the difference?”

Throughout this year our children have peppered us with questions. Often we have no answers but on countless nights these questions are the basis of our family dialogues.

“That is a good question,” we say, “and really worth thinking more about.”

Same siren…different story.

Trustworthy Opponents

2011-05-05T14:53:00.000-07:00

May 5, 2011

by Pia Infante

I have to admit that I'm a basketball fan, and there is no time like the playoffs to be watching basketball. Actually, it turns out that this season's playoffs are the most highly watched season in the history of the NBA. From what I can discern - people are watching because there are some well matched teams, there is really no clear and dominant winner (including, you, Lakers), and while there are rules, there is no script. So what unfolds is somewhat unpredictable - and true fans seem to revel in the surprise element.

What does this have to do with dialogue and civic engagement, you may be wondering?

Well, as I was reflecting on the notion of a "good match-up" (when two players who play the same position on opposing teams are evenly matched, it's fun to watch the kind of game within the game between them) - the concepts of respectful contestation and trustworthy opponents came up unbidden. I actually posted about these notions, put forth by the Foundation for Interreligious Diplomacy in December of 2009.

In a playoff game, while surely there's a rash of elbow bumps and brushes that are not called foul - there is a mechanism for holding the line around disrespectful engagement. Players and coaches can be ejected from the game, even the league, for out of line aggression or verbal threats towards other players, coaches, and referees. I appreciate this accountability for good sportsmanship and wish we there was a similar sensibility, say, in the House of Representatives or the Senate - at the state or national level.

What if there were a referee blowing a whistle on bad behavior and language on the Senate floor?

I want to raise up the premise that conflict can be a powerful learning experience if there exists, at the base of it, a deep respect for difference and a willingness to hear into the space between and be changed by it. To me, the NBA demonstrates more respectful contestation than what I often hear reported back from many of our representative democratic bodies, embroiled in partisan politics and back room deals.

I truly believe that trustworthy opponents can sometimes help me learn what I might never learn from a trusted confidant who never questions my premises or leans into the dissonances of my thinking. Similarly, forgive another basketball reference, point guard Rajon Rando of the Celtics matched up against Derrick Rose of the Bulls could bring into being a level of playing that neither could achieve individually. They seem to be a good match-up, and I for one, would love to see them play against each other in the playoffs.

In my estimation, there can be no shortage of narratives that tell the story of how respectful contestation and trustworthy opponents are necessary ingredients in an engaged and vibrant life - individually and collectively.

Do you have a story about a trustworthy opponent who's helped evolve your consciousness?

The Foundation for Interreligious Diplomacy is actually seeking out stories for publication. So, if you have a story you'd be open to sharing with the world - send it along and perhaps receive $100 for your effort.

As always, because I consider you, dear readers, to be potential trustworthy opponents in the dialogic space we share - I welcome your considerations, stories, challenges, and questions...

Strategies for Building Skills

2011-04-27T15:57:00.000-07:00

April 27, 2011

By Luz Santana

Many years ago, when I was a welfare recipient, I was assigned to a caseworker who thought I could help myself. Even that if I could hardly speak English he carved out time from our meetings to teach me things I could do on my own –for example, how to navigate job, children’s school and support service systems. That really helped and made a big difference for me.

Over the years I have tried my best to follow his example with the good fortune of working today in an organization whose work focuses on building skills. The work of the Right Question Project focused on building skills that are a foundation for taking action and transferable to a variety of settings and situations. Through years of trial and error we have found that there are many useful skills that people can learn but that there is a need to teach two basic skills that are usually skipped over – how to ask questions and how to focus effectively on decisions. We have developed a strategy that can be easily integrated into any program or service to develop these skills.

Last week I meet old friend I have not seen in years. She was surprised to hear that I was still working to help people across fields build skills and quickly reminded me about the difficulties of the work. “You are still doing that! There is so much going on… It is so difficult to bring people out of their homes, everybody is busy; they don’t have time!” Well, she had some good points…

She made me think about how much the work of the Right Question Project has evolved and how much we have learned. She was right, these are other times but to help people develop skills is as urgent as it was eighteen years ago. Like my social worker, there are many people working across fields who can make the building of skills part of the work they do. There are people organizing residents, working with youth or immigrants, implementing educational programs or working in micro-enterprise --regardless of the work they can build skills that will allow people to depend more on what they can do to help themselves.

Here are some of the things we earned along the way on how to effectively build skills:

o Narrow it down to what is most essential. One of our biggest lessons was that there are no limits on how much you could teach. At some point in our work we had a thirty-two hour curriculum to deliver and could have still added more. We noticed that people were not using everything but that they were “pulling out” some parts of what were teaching. After much trial an error we were able to pull out the most essential pieces to teach.

Our goal is to accomplish the maximum by teaching the minimum.

o Keep it simple. Again stay focused on what is essential. Find ways to make it easy to deliver. One of our challenges has been on how to ensure it the strategy is kept simple enough so people can easily teach it and learn it.

o Stay focused. Work with the end goal in mind. There will always be new issues and challenges you will need to address. Keep in mind how you are ensuring skill building is taking place.

o Deliver as you go. Make it an ongoing part of your work. Look for teachable moments. Think about what is it that they have now they didn’t have when they came in. Try not to create an additional structure but make it part of the work you do.

These are just some of the lessons that we've been able to learn. I know that I would not be in the position today to be sharing them with you if my caseworker didn't believe in my capacity to grow.

What kinds of skills are you building?

What strategies are you using?

What have you learned about how to do it effectively?

How Do You Like to Receive Disconfirming Data?

2011-04-22T11:34:00.000-07:00

April 22, 2011

By Pia Infante

An executive leadership coach I know often initiates a new client relationship with the question: "How do you like to receive disconfirming data?"

The irony being that most people don't like to receive disconfirming data at all. Our brains process unexpected data by a) sounding an amygdala alarm bell throughout our nervous system or, as is so common, b) by not absorbing it at all, selectively taking in only what it expects to perceive.

I'm utterly fascinated by my own brain's ability to skip over disconfirming data repeatedly - a.k.a., visualize me tripping over a newly placed chair in the living room an undisclosable number of times.

In a Wired Magazine article on the neuroscience of failure, where a study of lab experiments show a preponderance of the scenario where scientists go in "looking for x, but [invariably] find y," Jonah Lehrer explores how disconfirming data and failed experiments are actually quite a rich place of learning.

Here are Jonah's tips on How To Learn From Failure:

Check Your Assumptions

Ask yourself why this result feels like a failure. What theory does it contradict? Maybe the hypothesis failed, not the experiment.

Seek Out The Ignorant

Talk to people who are unfamiliar with your experiment. Explaining your work in simple terms may help you see it in a new light.

Encourage Diversity

If everyone working on a problem speaks the same language, then everyone has the same set of assumptions.

Beware of Failure Blindness

It's normal to filter out information that contradicts our preconceptions. The only way to avoid that bias is to be aware of it.

I see an application of this way of behaving in many other realms outside of science. I'm sure we in the philanthropic and non-profit sectors could truly benefit from checking our assumptions and expectations at the door, and seeking out disconfirming data.

Because the truth is, disconfirming data is like that chair I keep stubbing my toe on. Even if I don't seek it out, or remember its existence, it will continue to just. be. there.

I Only Know What I Know

2011-04-21T06:29:00.000-07:00

April 13, 2011
Sue Ellen McCann

I was recently introduced to the concept of “evaluation” – in my case, a process in which I would receive feedback from an outside organization on my work process and product. At first, I thought, “Oh, great, another report card!” Memories of exchanges echoing the words “you should have done it this way” (I can’t stand the word “should”) brought up unproductive experiences filed in that awkward space under “character building”.

That was my “glass half empty” side worrying. In fact, that isn’t what happened at all. Instead, I have been introduced to a process of learning, a process of observation and dialog that accommodates conversation, reflection and growth. How did I get this so wrong? I somehow thought I was going to be punished for what I didn’t know. Aren’t we judged for what we get wrong?

The “science” of evaluation at its core is a process to assist in a greater understanding of how to find out “what we want to know” – truly about anything, how to collect information on what we what to know, how we might effect or alter different experiences based on that knowledge, and how to tell others about what was learned through this process. Then start again.

When you think about it for a bit, it’s not a very revolutionary concept, but it has changed the way I consider my work and life. It’s given me a focus I didn’t have before and opened me to new approaches in both my personal and professional life.
The key has been having an outside perspective, someone who can offer you a mix of wisdom, tools, observation, and guidance, and as the process continues some reflection on what’s working and what isn’t. I am fortunate in working on a project that can afford the services of a paid professional evaluator but value the simple gift of friendship that offer the same results.

The Difference between Dialogue and Debate

2011-04-07T08:40:00.000-07:00

April 8, 2011

By John Esterle

On March 4th, I attended California Council for Humanities' "Forum on Democracy and the Culture of Civic Conversation." The Forum was the kick-off event for CCH's promising new two-year statewide initiative, Searching for Democracy. The day featured a thoughtful and informative mix of speakers and panels, but it was the closing session that stuck with me.

At one point the panel conversation featured much talk about dialogue and democracy, so in the Q&A I asked the speakers what they thought were the key elements of dialogue. I particularly wanted to hear their thoughts because in the opening session someone asked the panel how they understood the difference between debate and dialogue. The panel looked a bit puzzled by the question and the one answer was that it is a distinction without a difference.

I referenced her opening session question when I asked my closing session one (What are the key elements of dialogue?) and this time there was more of a response.

Chris Abani answered first and Omnia El Sharky echoed his answer. They both said that entering a conversation with a sense of vulnerability was the foundational piece of what it means to be in dialogue. Dialogue occurs when you embrace the prospect that the conversation you're engaging in might truly change your mind. And for that kind of change to occur we need to allow ourselves to be open, to be vulnerable. This answer resonated with me, particularly since at the time it came right on the heels of my last blog post on "The Power of Vulnerability."

The importance of language in terms of how we create and frame meaning has been a theme touched on in a number of recent posts on our blog. Consequently, I've been reflecting on how and to what degree "vulnerability" is used as part of the framing of both dialogue -- and of leadership. Most of us probably like the notion that a leader is someone who can engage in, and actively promote, dialogue. But how often do we talk about vulnerability as an aspect of both dialogue and leadership? In terms of our public discourse, do we reward political leaders who show evidence of changing their minds as a result of dialogue? Or do we punish them? Must a public leader exude certainty at all times, even if that's not what they're at?

So, in thinking about democracy and our culture of civic conversation, I'm struck by how things might shift if we started injecting "I don't know" more often into our public discourse.

When we enter a debate it's with our armor on. To enter a dialogue means taking that armor off. When engaging across difference there's a real tension between these two orientations, so context also becomes very important. This is a point Jane Junn addressed in her answer to my question by stressing the importance of being aware of the context, the structures, that frame and shape a dialogue.

After the session ended the woman who asked the unanswered question in the morning came up and thanked me for mine. So, another part of what sticks for me from that final session was the importance of asking a question related to language and the avenues to meaning such a question opens up.

Show Not Tell

2011-03-31T10:54:00.001-07:00

March 30, 2011

By Pia Infante

Recently, I ran across an engaging article by the media messaging firm M + R entitled Storytelling and the Art of Email Writing. While the article is more geared toward folks who are designing communications within a fundraising context than email composition more generally, the article struck a jangling chord in me.

They reminded me again why stories are so compelling (lifted from a Grenoble School of Business article):

Stories are universal. They bridge many divides – including cultural, linguistic, and age-related.
Stories mirror human thought. Humans think in narrative structures, and we remember facts and statistics far better when they’re presented to us in story form.
Stories shape our identities. The stories we tell about ourselves shape who we are
Our shared stories define our social group. The stories we share shape and define social connections in our life. The way this polar bear's story is told, compounded with an opportunity for the reader to become a "hero" by giving them a chance to join or impact the story is a way to help translate tears of empathy to actions like donating time or money to a cause.

I appreciate M + R's analysis and suggestions, despite the slight queasiness of wondering: where is the line between storytelling and marketing/manipulation? And, does the end justify the means of investing so much energy in perfecting how to write stories in ways that move folks to action, as long as we’ve determined the action is “good”?

I admit I have an ambiguous distrust of advertising and marketing. But, perhaps this long harbored distrust is getting in the way of my booting up and increasing my capacity to tell stories that move people. I certainly want to move people to wake up and take meaningful action, to join the great and immense narrative of this moment.

So. I’m enervated. Uncomfortable. And have a deep desire to share and connect with others on this question. Perhaps this is a sign that I’ve been impacted by a story.

The story of a mama polar bear losing her cub due to human negligence.

The story of storytelling for good.

And somewhere in between, the continuous unfolding of my own story… to be continued.