Corroding our Community from Within

There's a business out there that makes a living by corroding community. They've created a system through which the most vulnerable citizens pay exorbitant amounts of money for simple financial services.

You need only wander along Hastings Street any Welfare Wednesday to see whom I'm talking about. Below the yellow and red Money Mart sign, a long snake of desperate looking people line up waiting to cash their government assistance cheques and disability cheques for cash. "Who uses Money Mart? It could be you," says a banner hanging lazily above the non-descript store front. I certainly hope not.

As I wander by towards work, a man bombs by me. He navigates the street traffic like frogger. A car narrowly misses him as he clambers up the curb and into line. You can almost see the thought bubble above his rapidly moving heard, "almost there, almost turned this cheque in cash that I can spend on drugs/alcohol/other excessive substances".

The fact that Money Mart will charge him 3% on his cheque in addition to a cheque cashing fee will probably not bother him. He has more important things to worry about. However, if you do the math, Money Mart walks away with over $20 for each $600 BC government disability cheque it takes. That's a meal and half right there. During the early 20th century, there was a name for businesses which made money of the desperation of the community/nation. They were called profiteers.

For the working poor the Money Mart situation is even worse. For many, the quick payday loans are their last possible way of subsidizing life in between paycheques. Much like credit cards, people fall into a pattern of buying on credit. But unlike credit card companies which will run you a measly 16% interest (Note to reader, I do not REALLY think 16% is measly), Money Mart is alledged to charge interest (disguised as fees), which range from 60% up to 1000% (no that's not a typo - one thousand percent) of the customer's next paycheque. Don't believe it - check out the class action law suit already filed in Ontario.

So what does this have to do with community? Well to start, with 300 stores coast to coast, the Money Mart financial juggernaut is part of just about any urban community. We even have one on the Drive. Secondly, they are used by many of our most vulnerable citizens as the only way to live. Many people don't understand the effects of debt and how dangerous it can be. Money Mart preys on this ignorance like a parasite on an unsuspecting host.

Bankruptcy, depression, frustration, and financial ruin often follow. Harmonious community life, be it among family, friends, neighbours, or community members is difficult in such circumstances.

Learning from Pirate Communities – Health and Wellness

In the last instalment of this series we learned about the democratic nature of pirate communities. Over 100 years before the French Revolution, democracy existed aboard pirate ships, as represented by the written and signed Articles of Piracy, which demonstrated the crew’s power, as opposed to just the Captain’s. Part of those democratic principles included health care and workplace compensation, both of which, once again, existed on pirate ships long before they did anywhere else in the world.

According to Nigel Cawthorne’s A History of Pirates, when it came to healthy living, “many Royal Navy seamen considered life on board a pirate ship heaven compared with conditions they experienced on board the ships of His Majesty.” There was a greater life expectancy than in the navy and, while a pirate could very well depart this life at the end of a rope, he was allowed to leave the ship when he pleased and, if he chose to go ashore, could, as Cawthorne says, “at least look forward to a few years of freedom and high living.”

Life aboard a pirate ship was not only better lifestyle-wise than that with the Royal Navy or Merchant Marine, but pirates were actually given health benefits in the form of workplace compensation. Specifically, they went into battle knowing that, should they lose a limb or have their eye poked/shot out, they would be financially compensated for such loses. Here is a chart that reflects the actual payment as discussed by David Cordingly in Under the Black Flag:

BODY PART LOST	FINANCIAL COMPENSATION
Right Arm	600 pieces of eight
Left Arm	500 pieces of eight
Right Leg	500 pieces of eight
Left Leg	400 pieces of eight
Eye or Finger	100 pieces of eight

Here were the earliest forms of non-governmental (ie. the military), workplace compensation. Further, the ship’s – or pirate company’s – surgeon was the highest paid member of the crew (fun pirate fact: only carpenters, shipwrights and surgeons earned a salary). Aaron Smith, a surgeon working on a merchant vessel, was captured by Cuban pirates in 1822. He was seen as so valuable that, in spite of speaking no Spanish or being trained in their seafaring tactics, the pirates employed him as a doctor and sail-maker – pirates, unlike the Government of Canada, clearly recognized the transferable skills and qualifications of this foreign trained professional. So, aside from seeing the value in medical professionals (instead of, say, lawyers or investment bankers), what else can we learn from pirate communities with it comes to health and wellness? Here are some key points:

Healthy living begins with a Healthy Community: how did these compensated pirates use their money? Well, if they went to shore they invariably spent it in the taverns and brothels of Tortuga or other pirate haunts on isle of Hispaniola or elsewhere in the sunny Caribbean, hopefully, they built a relationship with local communities (should we start a thread on local food?!). Like many of us today, pirates suffered from the ill-effects of instant gratification. They would spend their compensation without thinking of a long-term strategy; however, if a certain amount of time, effort and resources were exchanged by pirate companies and coastal communities, well, then a system of security and care would be formed. Even today the coastal communities in Somalia rarely cooperate with the authorities and provide shelter, supplies and medical attention to pirates-in-need. As it was 300 years ago, when pirates take care of their communities, their communities take care of them. Organized, democratic, healthily-insured, and possessing a sense of community: wow, Barack Obama could take a page out of their playbook!

Health and Wellness in the Workplace: each year the Canadian economy loses upwards of $30 billion because of workplace stress. Our country’s workers are asked to do too much too quickly in an effort to complete projects within razor-thin profit margins. And if you’re an organization that recognizes the relationship between happy, healthy workers and profitability, well, then your organization is going places. Not unlike a pirate ship! If not, hey, you can learn from the pirates. Today, over one million people in Canada’s workforce suffer from some kind of mental illness brought on by stress. In the seventeenth century, life aboard a pirate ship was easier and more efficient than aboard a ship in the Merchant Marine. There were more pirates (typically as many as 80) than merchant sailors (sometimes as few as 12), so buccaneers would actually be more productive and get to work less. How was this possible? Well, the booty, plunder and earnings of the pirates was divided democratically amongst the crew, whereas merchant sailors saw the profits from their hauls go to wealthy businessmen in London, Boston and New York. This is why, argues Cordingly, so many merchant sailors joined pirate crews after their vessels were attacked and raided. Reasonable time to complete less work, more loot and health insurance?! Why wouldn’t they sign up?!

Health Insurance is different from Wellness: pirates, like some of you reading this blog, are a little dirty. Now. There are levels of dirtiness, obviously. For pirates, they got filthy in a venereal sense. In fact, due to syphilis rates that rival modern day Whistler night clubs or Axe body spray commercials, pirates would usually head directly to the medicine chest, not the armoury or treasure-hold, when they ransacked a ship. It was itch-curing mercury compounds, not gold, rum or gunpowder that was the sought-after treasure for so many of these scallywags. Just as with the these wench-pillaging buccaneers, today many of us look to the healthcare system to cure illnesses brought on by excessive smoking, drinking, sitting, eating, stressing, and unprotected sexing. While pirates, like many of us, have access to health care, we must remember that such a system is only part of what it takes to be healthy. Really, it takes a well-rounded, holistic approach that involves diet, exercise, work-life-balance, and happiness. So, the next time you’re thinking about swilling some rum, grabbin’ yer cutlass and hittin’ the port with yer mates, ask yourself if these actions will lead to you being a drain on an over-taxed system that is set up to help people who actually need it. Not over-indulging pirates.

At this point, I’ll add a disclaimer and remind you, the readers, of the context in which these tales took place. Look. Life on board a pirate ship in the eighteenth-century was, yes, better than life in the Royal Navy. Keep in mind, though, that your food still had maggots in it and that you usually slept in a damp room bellow decks and fell asleep beneath a wet, mouldy blanket. So, yes, it was better, but let us keep in mind the standards by which these pirate-ship-havens were measured. Also, just as governments tax their citizens, pirates taxed (and still tax) communities. The Canadian government, when taxing, doesn’t tend to set things on fire, though…

Yes. Subtle differences abide. Long story short, work less and be well…like a pirate!

Thar be it, mateys and matettes! Have yourselves a grand day on the high seas.

- Sir John the Pirate Piratologist

From Cowmoonity to Cluck-unity

K-Ho, you’ve certainly illuminated the many ways in which cows exemplify community. Democracy, Acceptance, Cowmunication. Key tenents to any thriving cowmoonity. On top of all this – cows are pretty likeable. I mean, what’s not to like? They’re pretty chill animals, harmless, and useful (until those evil crows – who knew one letter could make such a difference?). They give us milk and meat, cornerstones of a healthy diet. In fact, I wouldn’t mind having one myself. Problem is – I live in Vancouver. In an apartment. Seeing as my landlords aren’t too keen on the idea of a cat, I very much doubt they’d be up to the idea of a cow.

So now what? Give up my dream of alternative barnyard companionship and a readily available protein source? Of course not! The answer lies, my friends, in our favorite fowly friend: the chicken. Ah, gallus domesticus. How have you gotten such a bad rap? A quick thesaurus search brings up synonyms to your given name like ‘cowardly’, and ‘scared’. Not to mention the foul use of the venerable fowl terms cock and chick. But I digress. It seems, chickens, your time has come.

The recent increased attention to the importance of eating locally has paved the way for you, fowly friends. You see, unlike cows, you can live in the city. And not just one of you – but a few of you. Which is important, because as we all know, chickens are community-minded birds and live together as a flock. The urban chicken movement is growing, and the more I read about it, the more I’m on board.

There are numerous health, environmental, and humanitarian reasons for raising your own chickens, including less food miles, assurances of no hormones or antibiotics, and decent living conditions for the chickens.

I also think having backyard chickens can really serve to create a sense of community. Too often we’re unaware of where our food comes from. Growing up in the suburbs (see previous post on suburbia for a scathing critique), I’m ashamed to say I had no knowledge of where my food actually came from beyond the doors of the local Safeway. Growing your own vegetables and fruits is one way to get in touch with the land, but keeping animals, including chickens, is an important means of feeling like you’re really a part of your greater community, with a sense of responsibility and humility to the land and the creatures on it. One of my favorite quotes states, “Humankind has not woven the web of life. We are but one thread within it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves. All things are bound together. All things connect” (Chief Seattle). Allowing a greater connection between the sources of our sustenance and ourselves can only bind us closer within this web we are all a part of.

In mid-January, Vancouver’s food policy council (an independent body that advises city councillors on food and agricultural issues) voted to formally float the issue of allowing Vancouver residents to keep chickens. For more information on this, check out: http://ffcf.bc.ca/NewSiteFiles/programs/farm-city/urban-chickens.html. And hey, next time you’re enjoying a (hopefully free-range) chicken dinner, I encourage you to think about where it came from.

The Classroom Community - times be changin'

First thing's first. It's called "A Vision of Students Today." Have fun with it! I'll see you in 4 minutes and 44 seconds. Here's the video.

Did you have fun? Let's move on...

Education (elementary, secondary, post-secondary) is terribly hierarchical. Authoritarian, even. The teacher is the expert. The student is the learner. At universities across Canada, professors orate their ideas and "findings" to hundreds - maybe thousands - of students who cram into an annonymous lecture hall and try to absorb the distant material. These classrooms are pretty one-dimensional and, more importantly, a lot of 'em are grossly out of date.

Clearly, there are exceptions. Because, clearly, the world is changing. More likely, it's changed...exponentially. There's just too much information out there for any one idea to be tackled by anything less than a team - that's why The Gumboot is getting so much critical acclaim; it's the collaboration, baby!

Sorry, teachers, but when it comes to our classrooms, we're not always the experts. Especially when it comes to technology and how we use a medium like the internet to access information. Navigating its system of pipes and tubes, students can use the web to find a litany of supportive, contrasting, useless, and hilarious sources on any given topic. The more we educators pretend to know it all, the more our students will Facebook and Twitter their way into unproductive apathy. So, we need to include them in the lesson.

Here's my modest proposal. Let's change things in the classroom. In collaboration as students and teachers, let's make a transition from hierarchy to community. Many post-secondary educators out there know a lot about a little, which is great and amazing and important for students to learn. And many students know a little about a lot. And the classroom community can be the vehicle for, among other things, these ideas from everywhere to come together under knowledgeable guidance. Who knows, with the right discussion, a classroom might even turn into a venue for positive social change.

Interested in making your classroom a community? Here are some strategies to try out:

Edutainment: the concept of edutainment combines performance with learning; basically, make the classroom a fun place to be. Use YouTube. Play games. Talk about pirates. And, most importantly, when you link learning outcomes to enjoyable activities, the result(s) are those wonderful 'ah-ha!' and epiphany moments that make teaching such a rewarding experience.

Use technology: sorry, Luddites, but at least part of your curriculum needs to be online (I mean, let's put it in context...grade ones probably aren't going to be blogging...I mean, this isn't Ender's Game, right?). Whether we like it or not, Web 2.0 has allowed a whole generation of learners to personalize their consumer experience. Education is a product our students consume, so why wouldn't they expect one of their most expensive purchases (or their parents purchases) to have the option of being tailored to their needs. Whether it's downloadable lecture notes, an online forum for discussion or a wiki, having technology supplement a comprehensive academic experience will provide a personalized touch that so many students want...and, arguably, need.

Be inclusive: ask them questions. And don't stop there. When your next lesson comes up, show your class that you've taken their feedback and used it to make your material and their experience even better. Empowering young people to take on creative leadership roles can be risky, sure. But when students are set up for success by their teacher and then their plan comes together - wow - it's a beautiful thing. The stuff of inspiration, really.

Let them collaborate: no great thing in the history of humanity was every done by just one person. So, from team-based projects to sharing notes (yes, even on Facebook), let students work together to solve problems. Better yet, encourage them to do so.

Make it relevant: From "machine to community" and "hierarchy to network" - according to Goran Carstedt, this is where the real-world of the workplace is heading. The material (ie. the sociology of peasant uprisings in Early Modern France) might not be directly related to life, but the transferable skills sure will. So why not make education as relevant (with content, form and style) as possible? More than ever, employers are accepting that, when it comes to concepts like social media and interdisciplinary, cross-cultural collaboration the boss, not the analyst/intern/consultant/researcher, will be the student. It was two twentysomethings who brainstormed Best Buy's internal wiki, not the CEO or VP of HR. Having a meaningful, inclusive conversation in the classroom as well as a lecture is a great place to start.

Because if we keep up with our expert orations and do not empower students to engage our ideas with theirs, well, we just might, as Sir Ken Robinson says, kill creativity for good. So, whether you teach kids or adults to dance, do math or save the world using business, try something new in your classroom. You might fail. And that's okay.

And, hey, if writing this was a huge mistake, well, that's okay. Because I'm not afraid to make mistakes. Learning from them makes us all better.

- JCH

The Hummer Master and the Sangria

Let's paint a picture in your mind.

It's a sunny day on Commercial Drive. People lazily mill about the streets in the afternoon sun. Across from Grandview Park, there we sit on the patio of Havana, a Cuban inspired local restaurant. We drink red wine sangria and watch in an absent minded fashion as "Cloudman", one of the Drive's many resident eccentrics, twirls his stick (poorly) in a acid-hazed hangover.

We are dressed in jeans and loose checkered shirts. Our sandals are a raggedy two years old. The height of informal relaxed fashion. I look like Huck Finn - Vancouver Redux. Everyone else that we see seems the same way. Tinny Latin music echoes over the din of the crowd. At least it does until its overwhelmed by the distant bass thump of a JT (Justin T) spewing Hummer.

As the Hummer drives down the street past us, we get a glimpse of a white urban city dweller. Dressed in startched white collar, sporty blue blazer and fancy new Yaletownesque shades. Beside him sits his plush bimboesque barbie, who curls her hair absent mindedly.

As the Hummer spews its fumes the Drive rises up. The finger, the downturned thumb are displayed. Others catcall. Then there are the yellers - I don't need to repeat what they say - use your imagination. Cloudman continues to twirl his stick absentmindedly.

And then the Hummer driver is gone.

He's just gotten a taste of exclusivity (if he noticed).

We noticed. It seems that the Drivers are trying to say something to the interloper. They say that he's part of the undesired group that we don't really want in our community. Take your gaz-guzzler away from here and don't come back.

Was it his disregard for the environment that inspired such wrath? Or his materialism? The symbol of the military-industrial complex he brought to ground zero for Vancouver Peacenicks? Or maybe we were all jealous of his "success"?

More importantly, what law did he break to justify our rudeness? And what makes the Drive any different (or better?) from the most exclusive golf club in the country?

Where's the Square?

Squares

Any healthy city has got to have one decent main square. I don’t care how many parks, pedestrian walk ways, sea walls, bike paths Vancouver boasts, a city without a main square lacks a solid pulse; it lacks an incubator for community. We do meeting up online really, really, well. But right now, we kinda lack the physical spaces to do it in real life.

Sure, Vancouver has plenty of ‘squares’, but it lacks a grand open space for us to gather. Most Canadian cities don't possess the typical main square that European urban centres do. It’s not our fault, we just kinda sucked at urban planning back in the day. But let’s look to the future not to the past, ok?

Vancouver cries out for an urban space with a fountain and some naked angels spouting water, and some cafés with cloth umbrellas and wicker furniture. Or at the very least a central area so that we can hold free concerts, stage some demos, or just sip a coffee which isn’t ‘to go’ and watch the world go by.

Yes, we have Victory “Square”, Granville “Square” and Robson “Square” but does ANY one acutally go there? The closest thing Vancouver has to truly filling the role of square isn’t even a square, but STEPS! Hey, I like the VAG steps, don’t get me wrong. When the sun is shining I sit on them on my lunch break and take in the crazy lady who gyrates to a stereo on wheels or admire how the side walk artist uses spray paint in novel ways. That said, Vancouver is really missing the type of “grand public square” that could – and should - act as a centre point for civic life in the city. I mean, the poor break dancers need more room to do the worm than an expanded side-walk! Even arch nemesis Toronto has in recent years created a grand central square at Dundas and Yonge. It has funky fountains, slick paving stones, some stylized furniture and plenty of space to do whatever. While the visual onslaught of electronic billboards and condo towers make it a bit too, um, Blade-Runnery for my old-world sensibilities, T.O. deserves points for effort in recognizing that its downtown desperately needed a square.

And Toronto's square has succeeded in getting people to gather and take a time-out in a very commercial, hectic, urban core. So Vancouver! Catch up! Use some land slated for a few condo towers to make a square. Communities will thank you for it.

Check out this list of urban squares around the world, for some inspiration. Take your pick. These cities do some neat stuff with squares. Tehran's is a little weird, in my view. Maybe we shouldn't model ours on that one. But that's also open to debate.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_city_squares_by_size

Fireworks

The fireworks festival was great for creating community. Masses of people gathering along Vancouver’s shores and exclaiming “Ooooo” and “Aaaaaa” = bonding, plain and simple. It was also a very expensive and somewhat environmentally detrimental way to get us all together. Still, the summer and our community will be worse off now that the festival has been canned. Fireworks, beyond being really cool, tapped into our desire to gather and share in something collectively. A square could help fill that need on a daily basis without millions of dollars going up in smoke. Sure the fireworks created more business for the downtown core. But they also created a lot of garbage and car traffic. So, if we could just repeal some of the most draconian fireworks legislation in the world, build us a square, we’d not only have ourselves a kickin’ place to meet up, display our talents and have our voices heard, we'd also have a great spot for lighting off some rockets come New Year's!

haiku of the week

cows on a grey bus
we music community
in clever gumboots

- a haiku by John Horn that
hopefully summarizes a wordy
week from the team at The
Weekly Gumboot.