Cowmoonity!

Recently, I was out for a leisurely jog on a crisp Saturday afternoon around the outskirts of Victoria, when I happened by a farm...a very large farm with a very large red barn.  As I bounced past the big red building, I started thinking about the various kinds of animals that might live on this farm.  Then, being somewhat ADD with respect to my thought process, I also started to think about community, particularly some of the ideas that have been put forward on this masterpiece of a blog.  Next, taking my thought process to an even stranger and more ADD place, I started thinking about animals and community.  More specifically, I asked myself, "is there anything that we can learn about communities from animals...from farm animals?"  I thought about this as I continued to jog along (now well beyond the farm's outer boundary), and I came to the conclusion that, yes, in fact, it just might be possible...

Let us take cows for example.  Upon closer analysis of the everyday activities and interactions of cows, it seems that we can actually learn a few key lessons about community (quel surprise!).  Allow me to explain further via the following points...

1) Power in numbers - let's think about the power of one cow vs. power of many cows (e.g. should that cow/those cows choose to chase someone or something, should that cow/those cows attempt to push over a fence, should that cow/those cows choose to mow-down a field of grass, etc.etc.).  Clearly, cows "get it" - they have greater influence on their surroundings when more of them band together to achieve a cause.  Think about it.

2) Communication - ever wonder why, when one cow starts to moo, the rest also seem to have something to "moo" (like "say" but for cows)?  Believe it or not, it is because cows are communication specialists.  We may not understand what they are "saying" to one another, but we can clearly see that they work hard to discuss something of importance to the entire group (perhaps best location to seek out clean H20, most promising grazing patch for the day, etc.?).  Most importantly, the group usually does not make a move once every cow has had at least one chance to "moo" its view.  

3) Lookin' out for one another - sometimes, when cows are hangin' out in the fields, they swat flies away from their cow friends with their tails.  There appears to be an underlying understanding that, if one cow sees a fly that is out of reach for their cow friend, that cow will take care of the situation on behalf of its buddy.

4) Accepting of new things - when you approach a cow and it looks at you, it does so in a very non-judgmental way.  Even if they are a bit frightened of the different-looking stranger standing in from of them (perhaps they even balk a little...), eventually they will come closer for a look and maybe even to hang out a little.  After a while, the initial fright turns into a curiosity, and finally, an acceptance.  Way to embrace difference, cows.

There is probably much more that we can learn from cows, and perhaps as well from other creatures.  For the purposes of this thought experiment, though, we can clearly see that cows seem to know what's up when it comes to community.  They get each others' backs, they can clearly communicate with one another, and they know how to effectively incite change.  Not bad, cows.  Not bad at all.  Turns out, "ideas from everywhere" can even include the farmyard.  Mooooo!

K-Ho

Bringing Music Back: From Me to We

The brilliant author and neurologist Oliver Sacks has recently written a book on the ways in which music can move us, change us, and bring us together. Musicophilia (http://musicophilia.com/) describes the peculiar, the miraculous, and the poignant ways in which music is integrally woven into the fabric of our lives, our memories, and our very neurological compositions. He tells tales of individuals afflicted with Alzheimer’s Disease, who, after months or years of confusion and lost identity, respond to music in beautiful and remarkable ways: smiling, keeping time, and regaining a sense of lucidity that sometimes lasts for hours. He tells of instances where music has animated those with Parkinson’s, and given those who have suffered from strokes the ability to speak.

Music, it seems, has presented a pathway to these individuals: a pathway to their memories, their souls, and their very sense of self. The ability for music to stir in people emotions, memories, and a sense of wellbeing is truly amazing, and may be one of the reasons music has a way of bringing people together – of developing community.

I recently went to a CBC Book Club recording, where the author in the hot seat was renowned musician and conductor Rob Kapilow (who coincidently, is chummy with Oliver Sacks – oh, to be in that circle of literary brilliance!). Mr. Kapilow (http://www.robkapilow.com/), in ‘All You Have to Do Is Listen – Music from the Inside Out’, describes the way music moves us at this very instinctual level. We don’t need to be musicologists* to have this visceral reaction, to feel what the music is telling us, to respond to it in real and beautiful ways. Music can bring us together, tie us to a certain cause or moment, and make us feel like we’re a part of something larger than we are.

It seems, somehow, that this has been lost. I blame it on the iPod. Before the invention of the phonograph in the late 1800s and the subsequent explosion of recording devices and recorded sound, people had to go to a concert hall to listen to a musical performance. It was something that was necessarily shared – as Rob Kapilow likes to put it, it was a “we” experience. Think about how we listen to music now: through our Ipod headphones. There is nothing communal about it – it’s turned into a resounding “me” experience.

Music is made to be shared. When we hear music, we think back to the moments they’re embedded in. Music and the people and places we love are – or should be – integrally connected.
So my call out to you all is to celebrate music with those around you. Go to more concerts. Rent out a Karaoke room and sing your heart out with your friends (and some beer). Take a salsa class. Share the Music, because that’s how it was meant to be experienced.

*Yes, yes, I know this is probably not a “real” word. Am I OK with this? SURE AM! I suppose I would consider myself a ‘functional linguist’, and am at ease with taking creative liberties. Words have come in to our vernacular over the years because they’ve become socially relevant (I love how ‘facebook’ has now become a verb). Down with the Ivory Tower of Linguistic Supremacy! Give words back to the people, I say! (A linguistical liberal commie? Some might say …). And if you have a problem with this, you can Facebook me …

Expanding the Grey

Diversity is underappreciated.

What’s that you say, but we love diversity. Heck, we’re lowermainlanders, (those of us not off plundering the rich bounty of the sea anyway) we’re all about that stuff.

On the surface that may be true, we celebrate lunar New Year alongside Robbie Burns day. We appreciate the different smells, flavours, and the rich patina of a multicultural landscape. What we don’t seem to truly appreciate is mental diversity.

It’s not that we don’t recognize the breadth in our varying capacity to learn, cope, empathize, love, and generally thrive amongst our peers. The issue is that we have created a divisive atmosphere focused on the extreme. We built a black and white landscape where we’re either gifted or handicapped, and thus celebrated or medicated.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot recently, partially because of the rough waters in the k-12 community.

The B.C. Labour Relations Board has ruled that not administering FSA tests amounts to illegal job action, yet a substantial number of parents and teachers oppose the tests. Part of the problem is the tests don’t properly account for diversity in the classroom.

We’re not just talking social diversity here, but the breadth in maturity and capacity to thrive in a traditional learning environment.

There’s a whole grey area that comes into play between gifted learners and those with significant challenges. Our resources go to coping as best we can with those on either end of the spectrum, while to a great extent those in the great gray are ignored.

This mirrors life outside the k-12 community as well. In order to get support people are pushed to align themselves with one extreme or another.

There aren’t a lot of groups or programs dedicated to helping average people succeed, which is leading to the diagnosis and treatment (which all too often means medication) of ever slighter variances from the norm.

Feel awkward in social settings?
It’s not that while being told you were a unique snowflake during your formative years you found yourself amid a sea of indistinguishable yet equally unique snowflakes. Find the right diagnosis and you can be medicated for your pervasive developmental disorders.

Worried to the point of exhaustion?
That’s not because your education and upbringing didn’t equip you with adequate coping mechanisms for the realities of an uncertain future. It’s an anxiety disorder and you need TCAs and SSRI

I’m not trying to say that we shouldn’t strive to recognize and address mental illness. I’m sure each and every one of us has seen or felt the effects of mental illness at some point in our lives. I’m saying we should appreciate mental diversity as we appreciate physical and social diversity.

Those of us that are awkward, nervous, or prone to worries need patients, caring, and appreciation for what we bring to the table.

A complex grisaille.

So expand the grey. Find beauty in its complexity, and opportunities to help all of us who exist within its gauzy borders to thrive. After all, grey is a common companion to us landlubbing lowermainlanders for the better part of the year.

-mikeB

the bus - a continued analysis

So there I was. With hundreds of others in line at the Commercial/Broadway Skytrain station. Waiting for the 99 B-Line to UBC. As per usual, when the bus filled up I stepped aside and waited for the next one to come, opening the way for hurried travelers to rush up and cram themselves into the accordion-connected rectangles.

And cram they did.

And then nothing happened. For about 10 minutes, nothing happened. The doors stayed open and the bus - now brimming with increasingly stressed commuters - stayed still. No one went anywhere.

And then another bus pulled up behind the first one; the full one; the stationary one. Still, nothing happened. Nobody went anywhere.

And then the second bus driver got out of the second bus. Looked around; looked confused. He got back in his bus.

Nothing happened.

People, given the curious circumstances, waited pretty patiently. And then something happened. The second bus driver, now perched keenly behind his steering wheel, honked his horn and beckoned to the three line-ups of people to come over and get in his bus.

Pandemonium ensued. Pan-freakin-demonium!

Line-ups, be-gone! Order, be damned! It was every person for themselves. As we rushed toward the second bus I found myself mockingly shouting, "People, there's gotta be a better way!" - a few of my busing brethren hesitated and, perhaps, reflected. But most of us just powered through the crowd. My subconscious might've just made a brilliant and distractive gambit, because not only did I get on the bus, but I got a seat!

And all this got me thinking about a conversation I had with a not-so-young man a month or so ago. We were talking about climate change, food security and if there is any hope for humanity. End of the world kinda stuff. He had (and still has) kids. So I asked him, "Given your bleak opinion of our future, what should we be teaching kids these days?" He paused thoughtfully: "How to grown their own food. And self defense."

Fair enough. And, this morning, I got a glimpse of what the future might hold for our communities.

This morning, the simple, every day order of a lineup crumbled so effortlessly at the honk of a horn and the wave of a hand. How are things going to go if/when less food comes into Vancouver than there are people who live here? The mettle of our communities will be tested on that day, my friends. What's your plan?

- JCH

community and the classroom

This all (more or less) happened at Bishop's University.

A few days ago I let my two favourite undergraduate professors know about The Gumboot. Their responses were different and hilarious. One said there was "too much piratology" and struggled to comprehend why West Coasters are so inspired by "water logged wood." The other, I was pretty sure, called me a troglodyte. Of course, I had to go and look up "troglodyte" to confirm what it meant (editor`s note: I was sorta close). Then I realized that he wasn't implying I was a troglodyte, but was actually using the colourful term to describe people who lurch through the grey streets of Winnipeg. And, you know, fair enough.* My former professor - and current friend - told me that it was, and is, impossible to build community. He said that positive change is a hopeless and naive pursuit. Well, gauntlet accepted, sir.

Moving on...

The professorial feedback about Vancouver's coolest new blog was correctly incorrect. But, most importantly, the aforementioned educators have been given a glimpse at what their classroom community-building has created. These profellas, after all, provided two of the most exceptional classroom communities North America had to offer. Whether or not Bishop's is a "good" or "real" university is a debate for the ages - for people who value balanced, well-rounded, liberally artistic, intimate, personalized education, this place is for you. If you want a giant library, state of the art technology and to be taught by a TA, go to UBC, McGill or U of T. The classrooms of the Bishop's History Department from 1999-2003, which may or may not have included boxed wine from time to time, sewed seeds for community engagement in real life. And, if done well, this experience can happen in a classroom anywhere.

Here's how.

In the spirit of Stewart Burgess's brilliance, I have constructed a matrix that displays the way that a classroom experience (mine is the example) can give learners the skills to positively engage their communities:

THE CLASSROOM COMMUNITY	“REAL-WORLD” SKILL OBTAINED	POST-CLASSROOM COMMUNITY ENGAGEMENT ABILITY
Arguing with Dr. Wegert about the tenets of socialism vs. unrelenting German rationalism	Negotiating • Standing up to authority • Confidence • Public speaking • Forming and delivering arguments	Building relationships with a diverse range of people and not being intimidated by the “powerful” ones
Learning about History	Historical perspective on horrible degree choice • Critical thinking • Research/Writing/Presenting	Learning and teaching about the past in an effort to plan for the future • Writing emails.
Drinking wine during seminars	Ability to responsibly consume alcohol in “high-stakes” social situations	Not looking like the office jackass when the delicious celebratory wine is opened
Taking time away from the Dr. Childs’s teachings of life during the First World War to discuss a fellow student’s quarter-life-crisis	Life in the present is more important than stories from the past • Active listening skills • Planned Happenstance	Think outside the box • Take risks • embrace and run with good ideas
Kurt’s perspective and the collaborative, interdisciplinary teamwork we used to destroy him (well, his neo-con , devil’s advocate arguments)	Understanding the power of diversity: my ideas are very rarely the best ones; really, it’s a team thing.	Kurt Heinrich is simultaneously an inspiring and annoying teammate. And being opened minded to new ideas and new communities makes us better equipped to engage others and change the world.
Tough marking, tougher feedback	Failure is fine • Learn from mistakes • Do better	Projects and the ideas behind them will fail, and we – as a community – need to keep going!

©Copyright 2009 Stewart Burgess and The Weekly Gumboot

To all the learners out there: your next step should be to figure out what community service learning means to you and then brainstorm some ways to take your experience in the classroom outside into your community. History at Bishop's University was a good place to start. But community within - and beyond - the classroom can do so much more for the world around us. So, next time you find yourself in a classroom don't just think about ideas; do them!

And, most importantly, have fun with it!

- JCH

*No offense to the noble people of Winnipeg (or people who dislike footnotes). By living in that city, you`re automatically braver than most people in the world. Well done, folks.

Perils of Online Community

Online communities are lauded these days. Applications like facebook, twitter, myspace and friendster are seen as the new way to create and maintain one's personal social community. With these new tools people can expand their community to hundreds of friends, sharing information like never before. Can't be anything but good, say our online gurus.

Maybe online communities aren't so perfect after all. As our Web 2.0 communities grow and the amount of time we spend online grows with them, many people are spending less time with their close friends and family. Instead of going to a park with your close ones, doing dinner with your family, or strengthening friendships via common interest and common activities, the new online community leads us to spend endless hours viewing flickr photos, writing facebook wall posts, and yes, writing and commenting on blog articles. At first it is no big deal. But slowly, one starts to notice sometimes we're spending more time with our friends online than offline.

And instead of focusing our quality time with a small handful of close friends, we spread our net wide, communicating with hundreds of "friends", many of whom we've never even met. In effect, we're watering down our social community, trading personal flesh on flesh relationships in exchange for hundreds of pixel images, superfluous comments/posts, and short bios of people we once knew a long time in a galaxy far far away.

Is this the future of our communities?

Building Diverse Communities is a Two-Way Street

Canada is viewed by many as a land of opportunity, and British Columbia (BC) is a highly sought after destination for newcomers - they frequently cite the people, our climate, and the quality of life as being key reasons for choosing to live in BC (BC's advantageous position as the 'Asia-Pacific Gateway' also plays a role here).  In an effort to welcome newcomers to our country (and province) and to promote the benefits of having a culturally diverse society, Canada has formally embraced a policy of multiculturalism, which essentially goes a little something like this: "Welcome immigrants. We value diversity. Our doors are open to individuals from all corners of the world and from all walks of life. Come experience the magic of tolerance and diversity with us."  Well, maybe not exactly like that...but you get the picture.   Canadians are exceedingly proud of our multiculturalist values; we jump on every single change to publicly talk about how open and accepting we are to/of new people from a variety of backgrounds. We should give ourselves a pat on the back for being so good at this whole diversity/inclusion/welcoming communities thing! 

Or should we? Here in BC, recent evidence is indicating that a high proportion of newcomers are actually leaving within their first few years here, highlighting major difficulties with respect to their ability to integrate effectively into our communities. *Note, when I use the term "communities," I'm thinking broadly - workplaces, neighbourhoods, social networks, etc.etc.).*  Hmmm...are we really doing such a good job after all? Do we, in fact, truly value diversity?  I have a theory; allow me to explain (it just might take me a few paragraphs...).

I read an article earlier this week entitled "Building Communities Through Language Learning," which focused on the many roles that technology can play in helping newcomers learn language, networking, career search, and interpersonal skills, all of which are supposed to help them integrate effectively into our communities.  As I was reading, one statement, in particular, jumped out at me. The author was attempting to make a point about the benefits of online dictionaries for immigrants, specifically pronunication aides, highlighting that "online dictionaries help learners improve their vocabulary, pronunciation. and reduce their accent." ...Reduce their accent?

Tell me, why should the rest of us not learn to listen through accents, regardless of how unfamiliar they may seem? Does the presence of an accent present such difficulty in conversing with someone whose mother tongue is not English, that we must encourage that person (and other newcomers) to get rid of theirs? What about people with lisps - should we be encouraging them to get rid of their lisps so that they "fare better" in our communities? Why is having an unfamiliar accent so socially unacceptable? I mulled over this question for a moment, and then it struck me - the entire premise of the article was focused on immigrants needing to change...needing to adapt...needing to be different, in order to be accepted into our communities. I saw nothing about the rest of us, us non-newcomers, needing to change...needing to learn...needing to be open to the notion of "difference." No wonder recent immigrants are leaving! We're placing the burden of change and the onus of "integration" fully on their shoulders, while paying little attention to the question of what we need to do to be more welcoming and inclusive. If I were an immigrant, I would probably leave too!  Perhaps we don't value diversity as much as we think we do...

Should we despair?  Is hope for a better outcome lost?  Negative!  Take heart folks, change starts with us.  Read on...

So what do we need to do? Well, for starters, we need to move beyond the "welcome-to-our-country-now-that-you're-here-it's-up-to-you-to-fit-in" mentality, and start thinking about more of an interculturalist approach to community integration. Interculturalism means generating a mutual understanding of where everyone is coming from, what we believe, and why we believe what we believe...both "us" and "them." We learn about them. They learn about us. We understand and respect one another, and from this place (this honest place), we can begin to build a community. We can build it together, using the many wonderful and exciting things that we have learned from one another along the way. It really isn't that hard, it just requires a different way of thinking about it.

Secondly, if we believe that diversity is a key element of community (and I think most of us do), we need to think about what we can learn from this example.  Truly diverse communities are not built by one person, or a group of like-minded individuals. Developing and sustaining vibrant and diverse communities means having the courage to learn about others and where they are coming from, even if the things you learn are so crazily different from what you already know that it is just a little bit scary. It also must involve a willingness to accept difference (in views, appearances, cultural traditions, accent, etc.etc.) and to welcome change. It is not about forcing one group to conform with a certain way of thinking, talking, dressing, or acting; rather, it is about leveraging individual uniqueness to generate new ways of thinking, talking, dressing, acting, etc.etc..  Community-building is a two way street, friends, we all have to be open to difference if, indeed, we care about generating "ideas from everywhere."  It begins with us!