Monday, April 16, 2012

Cross Fertilizing with InCommons


In the interest of continuing to cross fertilize ideas with others interested in promoting listening, trust and relationship building processes, and respectful exchange, here's a blog post about TWI's 2012 retreat by Catharine Jordan, of the Bush Foundation.

Friday, March 30, 2012

The Whitman Institute Retreat 2012







By Pia Infante

















TWI's 4th retreat, like many of our previous retreats, was marked by bountifully good weather, rich conversations and connections, and a sensibility of community and renewal.

Yet, something happened this time. Something distinct, and extraordinary. I left, and many reported similarly, feeling powerfully connected, renewed, vibrant and inspired. One participant thought that this year's retreat was 100 times the potency of the last one. Perhaps the gatherings have simply built momentum over time.

There were certainly some structural distinctions:

  • Doubling previous participant cohorts, the group numbered 71 people - including current and former grantees, the trustees and staff, other funders, and kindred spirits.
  • It was our most diverse group of participants in terms of experience, region, race, age, culture, affinity, gender, orientation, roles and relationships to TWI.
  • More structured elements, where storytelling and topic-based conversations were baked into a more facilitated design.
  • The location, Chaminade in Santa Cruz, offered a wonderful blend of shared and private space.
  • We sometimes started or ended with the reading of poetry.
Perhaps, too, it is that TWI has recently set off towards a distinct point in time when the foundation will sunset. The inquiry and exploration about the living legacy the Institute will leave behind was a profoundly awakened one.

As Jill Blair noted in a recent email strand about the many sparks of connection and collaboration that have already followed the retreat:

"When we speak about the value proposition for the Institute's approach, this (collaboration/connectivity) is what we mean. The time we take to talk and to trust is time well spent - it is worth it because it builds better understanding and because it builds a basis for better collective work."

We are delighted that many of those who joined us are continuing to cross-fertilize, connect, and collaborate in myriad ways. We are also excited to join in, where possible, the proposed regional gatherings and re-groupings that are in the works. Lastly, we deeply appreciate the rich contributions of each and every person who joined us, and will take into deep consideration all that was shared.











Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Cultivating the Habits that Support Democracy


By Terry Chadsey


Many years ago I had a formative experience in my own understanding of democracy. I was invited to facilitate a Land Use Task Force public meeting in a community best described as transitioning from rural to suburban. Their last meeting had ended in a fistfight.

I began the meeting by playfully talking about how I was invited to help guide the process, but that I was neither a referee nor a police officer. Rather, I told those gathered that evening in a school cafeteria that I was a teacher and I had spent many years learning with school children about our democracy.

I said that the most important thing I learned was that we often mistakenly think that democracy means, "I get to say my truth" but in fact that's not quite accurate. What democracy means, I said, is that we get to protect the rights of others to say their truth even when we feel they are wrong. Many in the room smiled and nodded knowingly. As we listened to the wide-ranging public testimony, I invited everyone in the room to hold that thought: that we were gathered to protect the rights of each other to speak even when we felt they were wrong.

One of the Task Force members had brought her ten-year old son and eight-year old daughter to the meeting. With the children's and mom's permission, I place the two young people front and center facing the crowd. On my signal, they held up signs to mark the speaker's allotted time. The gathered adults help those children hold the space for each person to have their say.

Over the years, I've thought a lot about that night. Such a gathering created to hear a wide range of opinions and viewpoints is all too rare. Therein lies a collective dilemma that Parker J Palmer, founder and senior partner at the Center for Courage & Renewal, has brought to public discussion with his latest book, Healing the Heart of Democracy: the Courage to Create a Politics Worthy of the Human Spirit. Parker explores how rebuilding the failing infrastructure of our democracy involves each of us cultivating five habits of the heart in our daily lives and work. These habits form the foundation of democratic society. They include: an understanding that we’re all in this together, practicing hospitality across lines of otherness, creative tension holding, developing a sense of voice and agency and the capacity to create community. The group gathered in that school lunchroom struggled to practice all five.

At the Center for Courage & Renewal, we're exploring ways to help interested citizens cultivate these habits. In partnership with writer Courtney Martin, we've recently launched Healing Democracy Action Circles, with an invitation and resources for people to organize actions circle to explore and apply these habits in their own communities. I hope you will join us.

What stories are formative in your own experience of democracy?


Where do you practice and learn about the habits of the heart in your community or your organization?



Terry is the Executive Director at the Center for Courage & Renewal.

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

TPOWS: Media As Mediation



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 Michel Martin 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.

Friday, January 20, 2012

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



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.






Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Man Over Time...


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.

Friday, December 2, 2011

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






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