I think of time as the great equalizer. We’re all given the same amount of time; no one gets more than 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. And yet our perspective of time can greatly influence our “Culture of Competition.”
The authors of the book The Time Paradox: The New Psychology of Time That Will Change Your Life conclude that each person views time in one of six different perspectives. After surveying more than 10,000 adults over the past 30 years, Stanford University psychologist Dr. Philip Zimbardo and Google research manager John Boyd have identified six ways in which people view time. Nobody has only one way of viewing time, but how high or low you rank in each category is linked to your odds of being happy, mentally healthy or successful, says Zimbardo.
There are both positives and negatives to each of the time perspectives–past, present and future. USA TODAY paraphrased the six major time perspectives identified by Zimbardo and Boyd below:
Past-Positives: They often recall happy pasts and like “the good old days.”
Upside: Seldom anxious or depressed.
Downside: May resist change to new people, new ideas.
Past-Negatives: Painful past, regrets keep replaying in their minds.
Upside: Little, but they are not easily conned or falsely optimistic.
Downside: Tend to be anxious, shy and unhappy.
Present-Hedonists: Sensual and spontaneous, their lives revolve around short-term fun.
Upside: They have fun and friends and are happy.
Downside: Maxed credit cards, risky sex, too much alcohol, spotty job record, can hit the skids emotionally when spontaneity deprives them of something important.
Present-Fatalists: They live in the present and believe fate determines everything.
Upside: Little, but can lead to self-reliance because they don’t trust others.
Downside: Hot temper, depression, less conscientious.
Futures: Planners who focus on goals, delay gratification and keep commitments.
Upside: They’re healthy and make the most money.
Downside: Forgo immediate pleasures they may regret later. At extremes, they view their past as devoid of any fun.
Transcendental Futures: They believe in time extension, that is, life after death.
Upside: They are patient and happy.
Downside: Less focused on the present; at the most extreme, willing to kill selves or others for future rewards.
This research made me think of one of our past Honors Institute Speakers — writer/neuroscientist Jonah Lehrer — who spoke at our 2010 Honors Institute at Chapman University. He recounted the Marshmallow Experiment in which pre-schoolers were given the choice of eating one marshmallow immediately or waiting a short period of time to be given two marshmallows. A follow-up survey of the youngsters found that the ones who could wait for an extra marshmallow had been more successful in life. The lesson? Having self-discipline can help you reach your goals. In the time perspective, these kids were future-oriented.
The major points of this book have been turned into a terrific animated video created by RSA at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A3oIiH7BLmg&feature=relmfu. Check it out and I guarantee you won’t think of time in the same way again!
I realize that I just posted last week about The Culture of Competition related to sports, just one of our ten themes for this Honors Study Topic, and we hope to point out great resources and interesting current issues related to all ten themes, but after reading this morning’s Wall Street Journal, I can’t resist making a quick post on sports again this week. Not only is competition inherent in sports, there is a battle of messages heating up about the philosophy, purpose and results of sports in college and the idea of student-athletes.
The National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA) has a huge, two-and-a-half page, paid advertising section in The Wall Street Journal, “The Business of the NCAA” (2012, March 12, B9 – B11), with articles emphasizing that athletics provide lasting lessons for success in academics and business and are an investment in values. One of our 2012 Honors Institute speakers, Pulitzer-prize winning author Taylor Branch, might question which values? Greed? Control? Exploitation? Branch’s recent research into the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA) appears in his eBook, The Cartel: Inside the Rise and Imminent Fall of the NCAA (2011). Honors Institute attendees will have an amazing opportunity to fully explore the competing views about “The Business of the NCAA” this June at the University of Denver!
References
Branch, T. (2011). The cartel: Inside the rise and imminent fall of the NCAA. San Francisco, CA: Byliner, Inc.
Mullich, J. (2012, March 12). An investment in values. The Wall Street Journal, p. B10.
Mullich, J. (2012, March 12). College athletics build to business success. The Wall Street Journal, pp. B9 – B10.
I can hardly convey how excited I am about the 2012-2013 Honors Study Topic, The Culture of Competition! Part of my enthusiasm comes from my love of sports, but that’s just one of the TEN THEMES related to competition that the Honors Program Committee developed. Be sure to check out all of the themes, and if sports is your thing, you’ll love the article “It’s How You Play the Game” in the March 2012 edition of Southwest Airlines Spirit Magazine, which shows the positive and the negative side of competition in sports.
Thirty-something years ago, I was a student at Kilgore College. I did a wonderful job of keeping myself out of Phi Theta Kappa, but I had a good time, and I had the chance to meet a host of wonderful people. Many of these people would have an impact on me later on. Anita Neely was one of those. She was the advisor for Gamma Omicron, the Phi Theta Kappa chapter at Kilgore College. Always encouraging in class, she served as role model for me when I became a college instructor. Years later she would be a mentor of sorts when I became a chapter advisor. More important, she told me how proud she was of me, and congratulated each achievement as I became more-and-more involved, and as I sought out ways to serve the society.
I also met James A. while there. James was a mountain of a man, big hearted, friendly, always ready to share a joke or a smile. James’ nickname was “Chinaman.” Don’t know why, but that’s how he was introduced to me. One day James made the comment that he really didn’t care for that nickname, the first time I had ever noticed a sense of sadness in James. The next day, I called him “James,” his given name. He looked at me, smiled, and told me “thank you!” It seemed such a simple thing on my part, but the reaction that it brought about connected with me at a deep level.
Flash forward to today, and I learn of the passing of a beautiful young woman, Kristen. She went to school with my oldest daughter from junior high on. 26 years old, and her life is gone. For 13 years Kristen battled anorexia nervosa, and this week the battle ended, Kristen lost. Anthropologically speaking, anorexia is classified as an ethnic psychoses—a condition brought on by the culture in which you find it. In our culture we have developed a very warped and dangerous view of what is beautiful. Issues of weight and looks bombard us from our youngest years on. Sometimes these images have tragic consequences, and a young, beautiful woman loses a battle with a demon not of her making.
So what’s my point? Simply this: think about what you say. As we wrap-up our two year run with the current Honors Study Topic, think carefully about the power the democratization of information can have. Our words have the ability to alter lives. We can encourage, support, mentor, or model ideal behavior. Words have the power to make people feel better. The seemingly innocent nickname may be hurtful, and the simple gift of using someone’s name properly may have wonderful repercussions. And words have the power to do more than just hurt. A racial slur is meant to harm. Seemingly innocent remarks about weight, looks, dress, and so on may seem well intentioned, but may go on to have very serious consequences.
Think about what you say and how you say it. Support, encourage, mentor, love, defend, honor, and a host of other positive things. Do not use your words to hurt, harm, belittle, or put down. Be careful how you address issues. What some may see as constructive criticism may have life altering effects on others. Use your words carefully. There is power in words, and how we choose to use that power makes all the difference in the world.
Dr. Randal Allison is a Professor of Anthropology and advisor to the Alpha Phi Lambda chapter at Blinn College-Bryan. He is the History/Social Sciences Representative to the Honors Program Committee.
The Beginning
Saturday, January 8 was a pretty, clear day in the low 60s in Tucson, Arizona. My husband Steve Uyeda and I were puttering around the house, thinking about chores, and enjoying the mildly warm weather after our very brief freezing spell.
The shootings at Representative Gabrielle Giffords’ “Congress on Your Corner” meeting occurred just after 10:00am, and it was on the news at 11:00. Like many people in Tucson, we spent much of the day with the news reports – television was too slow, so we frequently updated through the internet news sources. By Saturday night we knew something about the 6 people who had died, including that one was a 9-year-old girl. Friends from around the world were posting on Facebook, regretting the sad news, decrying the event. Names had not yet been released and we have many friends and acquaintances in the public realm, not the least being Gabby herself; through Facebook it was confirmed that two others we knew had been there, one slain and one hospitalized. We were heartsick for those involved, for their families and friends, and for our city.
Westboro Baptist Church from Topeka, Kansas
On Sunday Westboro Baptist Church, from Topeka, Kansas, had posted to their website things such as “Thank God for the Shooter” and declared that they were coming to Tucson in force, to attend the funeral of the little girl to let the world know that God Hates America and that this was just one more sign that He is punishing America for its tolerance of gays and abortion. They are the group that pickets military funerals. The news about them hit the airwaves – I heard it on the radio about the same moment I saw it from friends on Facebook who work with Gabby Giffords. Here is a sampling of the kinds of things they have put out for other events. They usually use all CAPS.
“GOD HATES ELIZABETH EDWARDS! WBC WILL PICKET HER FUNERAL AT EDENTON UMC (228 W. EDENTON ST., RALEIGH, NC), SAT., DEC. 11, FROM 11:30 – 1:00 PM” — From a WBC release found online.
They carry banners at military funerals saying “Thank God for dead soldiers.” “The group believes that God is punishing America for its growing acceptance of gay rights by killing US troops in Iraq and Afghanistan. Members typically show up at the funerals of war veterans carrying signs reading ‘God hates fags’.” – from the Christian Science Monitor.
According to the Southern Poverty Law Center: “For 10 years, Phelps and his Westboro Baptists — a congregation almost entirely composed of his extended family — have waged a battle against lesbians, gays and a whole host of other perceived enemies. WBC members have picketed the funerals of Bill Clinton’s mother, Sonny Bono and Frank Sinatra. Even Bob Dole, Jerry Falwell, the Ku Klux Klan, Santa Claus and the 17 sailors killed aboard the U.S.S. Cole in Yemen….” Shirley Phelps-Roper agrees that the $200,000 the church annually spends to fly to funerals to protest was money spent to spread “God’s hate.” They have several websites, including GodHatesFags.com, and GodHatesAmerica.com.
Part of their strategy is to enrage people to the point that someone grabs a church member. Then they sue. Phelps himself is a disbarred attorney who was long known for massive litigation; at one point, he personally had almost 200 lawsuits pending in federal court. Although his congregation includes only about 22 adults, at least 14 of those have law degrees.
The Tucson Community Comes Together
By Sunday the word went out in Tucson that Westboro Baptist Church was going to come and picket the Memorial on Wednesday at the University of Arizona, the Thursday funeral of Christina-Taylor Green, the little girl who died, the Friday services for Federal Judge John M. Roll, and any other events that would be planned.
Tucson has a large community of environmentalists, social activists, and just plain folks who volunteer their time, money and energy trying to improve our lives. We connected on Facebook, we connected on email listservs, texting and by telephone. Thousands of people from other places volunteered to come to Tucson to help deter the WBC folks, but the Tucson peaceable community said “no thank you, we’ve got this.”
Kat Sinclair, a Tucson woman who works with border issues and other social causes, met with Wayne Belger, an artist who has been an activist for a number of causes. Wayne has been with the Peacekeeper and Angel Action groups, and would be able to provide organizational assistance. Christin Gilmer and Lynda Cruz joined the planning team, and began to contact individuals and groups. Cruz and Kat put together a set of trainings for those who wished to help, coordinating with the Tucson Police Department. They called the overall group the Tucson Memorial Project, part of the Angel Project. “The Angel Project was started by Romaine Patterson over ten years ago as a way to block the hateful signs of the Westboro Baptist Church. In Tucson, the Angels will appear anywhere the WBC said they would be, regardless of whether or not they show up. We are silent!” – From the literature we were given.
Homeland Security contacted Kat, and let her know that they would be keeping a watch on the Westboro group, and would let her know when they boarded a plane for Tucson. They already had at least 4 reservations for flights.
Monday, the Communication Continues
By Monday, January 10, there were a variety of events planned for the week. The first public ceremony would be held on Wednesday at the University of Arizona. President and Mrs. Obama would attend, along with many national and state public figures.
By Monday, Jan 10 solicitations of volunteers for training as a Peacekeeper, a Watcher, a Healer, an Angel, went out through the various personal media. Hundreds responded. Training was set up for late evening on Wednesday.
Wednesday, Events Begin
Steve and I went to President Obama’s address at the University of Arizona (over 30,000 in attendance that was quickly organized and excellently done). I stood in line four hours, and we still were not among the first 17,000 who went into the sports center. We were in the football stadium a short distance away, where we watched events on the giant screen. Before University President Robert Shelton began to speak the camera would focus on the many people, public figures and local heroes, who were in the audience. We felt as if the stadium was filled, not with mourners, but with citizens who wanted to be together, trying to heal together. As the screen showed our former Governor and current head of Homeland Security Janet Napolitano, we clapped. Sandra Day O’Connor, the first woman to serve as a Supreme Court Justice, is an Arizonan who came to show her respects; we clapped. Dr. Richard Carmona, the former Surgeon General is a Tucsonan who attended; we clapped. Daniel Hernandez, the 20-year-old Giffords staffer who ran to her and helped stem her bleeding, was sitting next to Michelle Obama; everyone in the stadium stood up and cheered this brave young man who saw a horrific event and rather than running away he sought to find what he could do to help. He is credited with saving Congresswoman Giffords’ life. The evening had many speakers; all were encouraging our community to unify, to celebrate our unity, and to look for positive ways to demonstrate our unity.
After two very uplifting hours we smiled one last time at the folks surrounding us, who had been strangers earlier but now seemed more like acquaintances, and everyone walked quietly to shuttles and parking garages. The entire evening was amazingly well organized for a national event with the President which was pulled together in 72 hours.
Wednesday, Angel Training
Next, Steve and I drove downtown to the Hotel Congress for the training event; there were probably 150 people in attendance; the ones we spoke with had heard through Facebook groups, radio public service spots, and community listservs. Kat and Cruz ran most of the evening, giving us an overview of the options for people who wished to participate in the various public events of the next few days. They chose about 60 of us for the Angel training. They showed us videos of what to expect. They did a role-play to demonstrate. They gave us a mantra to use. We had to sign lengthy documents agreeing to the standards upheld by Angels. At that time it still appeared that WBC would be attending the services the next day for Christina Green.
Just after midnight, in the very early morning of Thursday, emails and phone calls went out to 18 of us to be Angels at the memorial service for Christina Green, the little girl who died. Her memorial was set for later that day.
Thursday, January 13: Ben’s Bells Distribution
Steve and I took the morning off from work.
The first event of the day was a massive effort to distribute 1400 Ben’s Bells throughout the city. Jeanette Maré Packard lost her 3-year-old son, Ben, in 2002, and created this organization as a way to help her family heal. Every ceramic, metal and twine sculpture is composed of several pieces, and has been worked on by at least 10 community volunteers who mold, paint, glaze, assemble, and otherwise assist with its construction. Ben’s Bells symbolize kindness and its power in healing. Their mission is to inspire, educate and motivate people to realize the impact of intentional kindness and to empower individuals to act according to that awareness, thereby changing our world.
By 7 am over 500 of us were gathered in the courtyard on University Avenue outside the Ben’s Bells offices. We picked up tiny maps, showing different parts of the city, which told us where we were to distribute our bells. Then we received our bells and some twine to help us hang them. As I stood in the quiet but enthusiastic crowd waiting to receive my bag of bells a gentleman was given his allotment and he turned around, facing me directly. His entire visage was alight with a glow that was part pain and part healing. Our eyes met, and we held the glance for a moment. Then I reached out and gently touched his cheek. Tears spilled from our eyes and he embraced me. For a few seconds we were of one mind and one heart. Then we separated, smiled, and he walked on.
When all the bells were given out, we were each asked to take one bell out, hold it up and ring it. For an entire minute the entire courtyard rang with the sound of hundreds of small bells. Jeanette addressed us for a few minutes, then sent us all on our way. Steve and I drove to our designated area, and found five different locations in five neighborhoods – by parks, street corners, walkways, and one school, where no one was around. We took turns choosing a likely tree and quickly hanging a bell, turning it so that the little attached sign which began “You have found a Ben’s Bell…” was clearly visible. When we finished, we drove to Fourth Avenue, to meet with the Angels and prepare for the next chapter.
Thursday, January 13: Kristin-Taylor Green’s Funeral
As we sat at a little restaurant on Fourth Avenue, Steve and I talked about the rest of the day. We were both nervous about what was to come. If the WBC picketers came, we would spend two hours being yelled at, and called ugly names in an attempt to provoke us. Our job was to be completely mute and unresponsive while passively surrounding the WBC members, hiding them and their vicious signs from view of the general public, blocked off by our 10-foot wings. They were not allowed to touch us but the videos we saw showed them saying horrible things to people. We were not allowed to touch them or to speak or respond. We were a living fence of peace, to hide the hatred.
Even if the WBC did not come, which everyone hoped for, there was still the possibility of other protest groups. Between us we also shared the starkly frightening possibility that someone who hated, who held a distorted view of the world, could walk or drive by and find a line of passive people in white to be a tempting target for their words, or their bullets. While wearing the wings it is very awkward to move, and slow going. Removing them is also awkward and usually takes two people. We were fearful of possibilities, but we agreed that someone had to stand up, to ensure that one group’s hatred did not mar the occasion of a family and friends mourning a child.
We met the rest of the group at 9:30, and loaded 20 pairs of wings in the back of a huge flatbed truck volunteered and driven by Gino Mauceli, a local businessman who helps homeowners install water harvesting equipment. Over sixty pairs of wings were assembled on Tuesday from donated materials – primarily PVC pipe and white sheets. We travelled to the parking lot of the Northwest Campus of Pima Community College, which was to be our first staging area. Steve and I collected and alphabetized the slips of paper we had each filled out listing personal information and an emergency contact. Kat and Cruz helped us with some mental and physical preparation, and we boarded shuttles that had been arranged to ferry the various community groups to the final mile of road leading to the church. As we got off the shuttle there were already hundreds of people circulating. The police had blocked the road with barriers so cars could not enter without passing the police checkpoint. We formed a small circle, and Kat informed us that she had heard from Homeland Security that the WBC group had not gotten on the planes either Wednesday night or Thursday morning, and so apparently would not be attending.
We formed into single file, and walked into the site. As we walked down the west side of the road the first thing we encountered was a line of motorcyclists. They wore black pants, black leather jackets, and black caps. As we walked past them we were a bit nervous at first. Then they saw us, and smiled. They were there for the same purpose: to ensure a peaceful day. They were from several local motorcycle groups and had also connected via Facebook and listservs, and had come together to help patrol the road and prevent disturbances.
The flatbed truck was allowed to drive down the road and park about a block from the church. We walked to where it was parked, and donned our wings with help from each other, from Cruz and Kristin and Wayne. Slowly we formed a line of Angels, touching wingtip to wingtip. Our silent vigil had begun.
I repeated the mantra we were taught, with slight variations. “I breathe in peace, I breathe out acceptance. I breathe in hope, I breathe out kindness.” As I raised my eyes to the majestic Santa Catalina Mountains a few miles to the East, I saw a hawk rising on a thermal. I sent my hopes and my fears to ride the thermal alongside the magnificent redtail, going away from me and leaving me with acceptance of whatever would happen.
Cruz and Kristin spoke with dozens of different media people over the next few hours. Thousands of photographs were taken of the church, of the 9-11 Memorial Flag that had been brought and raised next to the church, of the solemn line of black leather motorcyclists, of the silent line of white cotton angels, of the hundreds of other members of the Tucson citizenry who had come to line the last mile to the church and show their love and respect for a little girl, for a grieving family, for an entire community slowly healing.
Kristin and Wayne brought us water, to keep us hydrated in the warm sunshine. I am permanently partially disabled, and have trouble standing or walking for any length of time. Within twenty minutes of the start of our vigil my bad foot began to cramp, my hip ached, and my back began to spasm. I had a quiet discussion with my body, explaining “This isn’t about us, it is about doing something for our community. Please accept that and let us perform this action with a minimum of fuss. I don’t want to quit.” Slow breathing, some meditation, and repetition of the mantra helped. Not one of us left the line for any reason during the three hours we stood vigil.
One moment stands out. A line of motorcyclists in boots, jackets and bandannas walked slowly down the row of Angels in thin cotton and sandals. Each one of them stopped before each of us, smiled, gave us a brief hug, said “thank you” and then moved down the row to the next Angel.
The Next Two Weeks
There were more funerals. There was a gathering at the University, and one at Tucson High School. The University of Arizona reported that nearly 1200 students came prepared to rebuff the WBC if they attended a memorial event there. There was a service at the La Toscana Village business area where the attack occurred. Angels attended every gathering. Each day Kat heard the reports “WBC isn’t coming today either.” Hundreds to thousands of Tucsonans came to each of the planned events, and to other sites as well. The grassy circle in front of University Health Center became a gathering place for people at all hours. Candlelight vigils occurred both there and at Gabrielle Giffords’ headquarters a few miles away. Her husband, astronaut Mark Kelly, said the family was comforted to look down from her hospital window and see the hundreds of candles burning all through each night. By the following week there were thousands of bouquets, stuffed animals, and cards. A table was set up bearing white tiles and permanent markers. You could leave a message on a tile, and place it wherever you liked in the growing memorial. At any hour there are people sitting, standing, wandering through the memorial crying. The hospital has said they will preserve the donations and use them as part of a permanent memorial.
Sunday, January 30
Wayne called us and left a message. They wanted the Angels to get together, to have a debriefing, a celebration, a reunion. On Sunday evening we were back at the Hotel Congress, where we had first met this caring group of Tucsonans. About twenty-five of us gathered and spent a couple of quiet hours discussing what had occurred. We celebrated the fact that, with the quick communication and organization, we had presented a prospect that was sufficiently unappealing that the Westboro group cancelled their plans, and never came to Tucson at all. There had been rumors that they had indeed attended one or more of the public gatherings but as we each reported on our sites we found that they had indeed not come. Tears and hugs were still shared, but this time there was far more laughter, and many smiles, far outweighing the remaining tears.
Communication Forms and Informs A Community
The point is: Tucson community members rallied. Just last October, a think tank at Arizona State University called the Center for the Future of Arizona released poll data showing that civic engagement is far higher in Tucson than Phoenix. In Tucson more people vote, more families eat dinner together, more neighbors exchange favors.
The word went out that a group was coming to cause disruption. Tucson motorcycle clubs volunteered and came (I have a photo of the black leather bikers on one side of the road, and the white cotton angels and peacekeepers walking by them. We were all there for the same reason. There were hundreds of cyclists, hundreds of peacekeepers, 18 angels, and thousands of just folks, lining the road to show respect and to hinder the WBC folks. The bottom line? We in Tucson organized so well, so thoroughly, that we completely defeated the purpose of the WBC folks. Our job was to surround them and make them invisible. There were too many of us, we were too organized, they would get no media coverage, not achieve their goals. They did not come, and we were left to grieve, and to heal, in peace.
Dr. JodyLee Estrada Duek is a Professor of Biology and advisor to the Alpha Beta Chi chapter of Phi Theta Kappa at Pima Community College.
For the first time that morning, I laughed. Laughed hysterically. Like a lunatic in a crazy asylum. It was an improvement over the crying, screaming, and pointless stomping that consumed the first two hours of my morning. It was less frightening than the assorted temper tantrums I had progressively thrown over the last 3 months, during which my combined internet and wireless bill climbed from $383 to $619 to $816, without any apparent explanation, and despite my regular payments.
That morning, Lana, the customer service representative had pondered:
“Isn’t it funny how technological advances only seem to give us more headaches?”
Lana, my current hope at bill salvation, had summed it all up in this one seemingly innocent sounding query. Upon which I laughed hysterically, and Lana laughed nervously on the other side of Utah, or in whatever cubicle she might be occupying. That’s it, Lana. That’s it.
(Fun Story #1: My favorite story of this day of customer service infamy: Upon contacting Customer Service at a company that shall remain nameless, I was asked (after being told to go to the Apple store, from where I had just come): “Did the people at the Apple store tell you whether or not Office for Mac was compatible with Mac computers?” Um, no, actually. I deduced that on my own. It was a stretch.)
Over the course of the next few days, Lana plus 4 or 5 other customer service reps promised to help me resolve my inexplicable $816 wireless/internet bill, just like the army of customer service reps had “resolved” the problem the previous month and the month before that.
“Why don’t you just separate the two bills and ask for each separately in the mail?” my logically-brained husband repeatedly asked me. My mom suggested the same thing (even going so far as to suggest that I pay my bills by check through the mail, like she did). But, that would defeat the purpose of “bundling” bills, which, as one customer service rep after another pointed out, was saving me time, money and paper. Right?
Ultimately (to make a short story long), John and Andrew (after talking with Katherine, then Jody, then Bill), from the two different phone/internet companies, explained to me that customer service reps from the first company, by company policy, were not allowed to communicate with customer service reps from the second company (and vice versa). Both, however, could explain to me in full detail why the other company was in error. As I started losing my hair in handfuls (because I was pulling these handfuls out of my head), my husband and my mom’s sensible words rang in my head. Why don’t you just separate the bills? Why don’t you get paper copies of these bills? How much was I saving anyway? $5 a month? To get a $816 bill?
Sigh. Isn’t it funny how technological advances only seem to give us more headaches?
(Fun technology tip #2: If you are getting nowhere with a Customer Service rep (or maybe Customer Care Therapist?), find a reason to hang up (“Uh-oh, the dog threw up my homework” works for me) and call right back. Often, you will reach someone smarter the next go-around.)
As I look back at my 15+ year teaching career, I am amazed by the changes we have experienced in such a short time. When I started teaching in the early 90s, we still sent and received hand-typed memos on paper (remember paper?) as our primary means of communication. Voice mail was our primary message-taking system and e-mail was used only by the most progressive. “I never check e-mail” was a statement of pride made by my colleagues. And, communication with students? Forget e-mail. Most students didn’t have computers, let alone e-mail accounts.
Several years later, I remember when 15-20 e-mails in a day seemed overwhelming and online classes were only for the technologically advanced and courageous.
Progressively, we moved more and more to a paperless and wireless world, but you wouldn’t know it by looking through my office. Not only do I have files upon files within folder after folder on my computer’s hard drive, I also have those same files upon files within folder after folder in my filing cabinets (and on my desk, and on the floor, and on my shelves…).
And, as of six months ago, I proudly announced, “I’ll never use text-messaging.” It was too much of a bother. While I haven’t yet reached a state of dependency, I now carry around two cell phones (with text-messaging of course), own 3 laptops and finally figured out how to listen to my iPod in my car. And, don’t ask me how many e-mail accounts I have. I don’t know. When I leave home (or anywhere), I now run through my mental checklist: Do I have my keys? Do I have my debit card? Do I have my laptops? Do I have all my phones? My wireless card? My iPod? Arghhh!!!!!!!
I love being able to shoot a video on my computer instantaneously, and I love being able to share it on Facebook or with my online students. But, I can’t help but think, wouldn’t it be better if I could just show these things to people in person? Like in the old days of the early 1990s? Maybe I’m old-fashioned or worse, just plain old. So, I asked my resident technology expert, my 22-year old daughter Morgan: “Have you found that technology has made your life easier?” “Nope.” “Can you explain a little more?” I asked Morgan. “Later, Mom. I’m busy.” On Facebook. Text-messaging. Skyping. Skyping? How long will it take me to learn that and how many hours will it take me to solve the related technical difficulties? (She later revealed that technology made dating more difficult – it was difficult to meet people “organically.” She also told me that her combined phone/internet/cable bill is less than $100 per month. What? What does she know that I don’t?)
So much potential and so much headache.
(Fun Technology Tip #3: If you hit the “Other Amount” option on the electronic debit card reader when asked if you want cash back, you can enter pretty much any amount you want and they have to give you the cash. I found out the other day at the pharmacy that $200 was not beyond the computer’s cash-giving limitations. What fun it was to wait for the pharmacist to count out $200 to me in fives and ones. It was even more fun for the customers in line after me.)
Now, I’m sitting in my Jeep at 6:15 am, outside of school, waiting for the doors to be unlocked so I can get to my desk. It might be nice to relax, sip my hot chocolate and listen to some music. But, my laptop calls… actually, both of them call, I’m carrying both this morning. I can finish this article AND e-mail it to myself using internet courtesy of my wireless card and retrieve it onto my second laptop. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. Look at how much time I’m saving…
Wait, this doesn’t feel relaxing. It’s not relaxing at all.
If going wireless is supposed to be so convenient, why do I continually feel so tightly wired???
Dr. Erica Hastert is a member of the Phi Theta Kappa Honors Program Committee, Professor of Mathematics, and advisor to the Sigma Phi Chapter at Arapahoe Community College in Littleton, Colorado.
How do you mean what you say?
Language is a beautiful thing. This uniquely human tool allows us to use a series of complex symbols, sounds, and vocal and bodily qualifiers to relay information to our fellow humans. Our communicative events run the gamut from the very simple to the mind-boggling complex. In face-to-face communication, we have a host of tools at our disposal to relay information. Not only the words we use, but how we present them: soft voice, harsh voice, relaxed stance, animated arm movements, and so on. In the asynchronous world of static communication we rely on letters and symbols to relay information, making our communicative events a little trickier since the other qualifiers are absent. No matter how we communicate, language is the tool that helps us get information from one person to another.
At the same time, our languages can be stumbling blocks as we communicate. If I ask you what a “tree” is, each of you can tell me. But, if I ask you to describe a tree, it becomes a little harder to reach consensus. For me, a “tree” is a Pecan or Live Oak; that’s what I grew up with. Depending on where you grew up, a “tree” might be an Aspen, or a Birch, or a Palm tree, and so on. Our comprehension is shaped by our background.
Our vocabularies can also get in the way of meaning what we say. The English language has the largest single vocabulary of any language in the world, with a little over one million words. English borrows from other languages, enriching the language and frustrating those trying to learn it. Yet with all that variety, we are limited in some respects. It seems odd that we have only one word for “love.” “I love butter,” “I love martial arts,” “I love my children,” and “I love you” all utilize the word “love.” Yet native speakers of English and those well versed in it know, intuitively, that we have different levels of meaning with each use of the word “love.” The Greek language, on the other hand, has four words for love: eros, storge, agape, and philia, each with a distinctly different meaning.
So the problem with this wonderful tool called language is how do we mean what we say? Saying what you mean is simple, and we can all do it. But meaning what you say is a whole different matter. In our increasingly diverse world, we can no longer assume that everyone will automatically understand what we are telling them. Not all of the members of our groups, our teams, our families, or our communities are necessarily monocultural. As leaders, it becomes critical for us to carefully consider how we want/need to build our communications to construct meanings that are clear and understood by everyone in our groups. As you plan for relaying information to others, consider the following:
• Who is your audience? Are they all insiders, people who share a common background, or are they a mixed group? The recent debates over the use of “PTK” versus “Phi Theta Kappa” is a prime example. Outsiders meant no disrespect in using the informal address. Negative reactions to the use of “PTK” reveals a lack of understanding that we are not all insiders.
• Pierre Bourdieu constructs what he calls “cultural capital,” which includes factors such as education level, gender, ethnicity, social standing, and the like, and posits that this capital is key to any communicative event. What is your audience’s cultural capital? Even if the group appears to be monocultural, do not assume that they all have the same cultural capital. Consider the possibilities and the limitations that varying levels of capital may produce.
• What is it that you are trying to communicate? How simple or complex is the information you are trying to present? If it is complex, can you break it down into smaller parts? If it’s simple, do not be lulled into complacency. Sometimes the simple things are harder to relay than the complex.
• What is your mode of communication? Face to face and live communications have one set of possibilities, and asynchronous communication has another. Depending on the modality, how you can go about constructing meaning will vary.
• How clear are you? In other words, as you are working to construct meaning, how are you going about it? Consider the words you use, selecting them for precision and clarity, and also selecting words appropriate for your audience. Do not use insider jargon for a group of outsiders, and do not “dumb down” your presentation for a group who is well versed in your topic.
• How will you be able to gauge the effectiveness of your communication? As you move forward, think about the ways that you can get feedback from the audience to measure how well they are constructing the meaning you have in mind.
• How can you let your audience know that you clearly understand them? Communication is always a two-way process, and in our construction of meaning, we need to be sure that we understand what our audience is saying in their feedback,
• What can you do to make the meaning more clear and to evaluate the end result? Even in the best communications, leaders (re)evaluate their presentations, analyzing what worked and what didn’t work, and considering ways to strengthen their future communications.
Language is a wonderful tool. The vibrancy and beauty of our languages enriches our lives, and allows us to communicate with our fellow humans. We might be limited by our vocabularies—I do love butter, and I do love my children, but we know those are different types of love—or we might find more ways of more clearly building our meanings. Learning to mean what we say is a skill that all of us can build on and improve.
Dr. Randal Allison is a professor of anthropology at Blinn College in Bryan, Texas, and serves as an advisor for the Alpha Phi Lambda chapter. He also serves as a member of the Phi Theta Kappa Honors Program Committee.