Tag Archives: society

Start with Good Intentions

I like to think that most people come at life with good intentions. I give people the benefit of the doubt that they are positive, honest, and want an outcome that is favourable for themselves and others.

Upset? Intentions were not met.

Angry? Someone else’s intentions did not match yours.

Hurt? Someone’s intentions were blind to your injury.

When someone does these things intentionally, well then I have to question where this came from? Sometimes selfishness blinds people to the way their intentions can harm others. Sometimes there is actual malice. There are people in the world that enjoy inflicting harm and pain, people who derive joy from being a bully, or who don’t care about others. But this is a minority of people.

Most people want to have positive experiences, and share those positive experiences with others. Sometimes though, they don’t have a road map to get there. This gets tricky sometimes, especially when more than two people are involved.

Trying to meet the needs of three different people can be a bit like playing rock/paper/scissors with three people. Sometimes all three will agree, but often there will be either two feeling like they came out good, and one disappointed, or vice versa, and occasionally all three will feel like they have lost something.

A good example of this can be a parent, teacher, and student meeting where they are dealing with a concern. The positive intentions are for everyone to leave the meeting on the same page, having addressed the concern in a positive way. On some level, everyone at the meeting wants the same thing… for the student to have a better learning experience. But that intention can be lost. Instead, the it becomes a game of rock/paper/scissors with three participants.

That’s when it’s important to go back to good intentions, and to focus on what people want to achieve. If anyone is upset, angry, or feels hurt, then it’s time to realign intentions. This isn’t necessarily easy, but when you start from a place where you believe that everyone has good intentions, it does make things easier… and more likely to end with a positive outcome.

By the numbers

Documented worldwide cases of Covid-19 have surpassed 3 million people. The US will surpass 1 million of those later today. Canada will surpass 50,000 this week. And sadly, over 200,000 people have died as a result of contracting this virus.

Canada and California are similar in population size, both are doing a good job keeping the number of people infected down, and both are still dealing with 1,000 to 1,500+ new cases a day.

The good news, hospitals here on the North American west coast are not inundated like they have been in Italy, Spain, and New York. The challenging news, we are not out of the woods yet and diligence must be maintained… especially as we move to reopen parts of the economy.

I’m no longer making predictions about what things will look like in the coming weeks and months… the virus isn’t a weather system coming in from the west and bringing rainfall. It has a life of its own. While we have considerable influence as a community, and as citizens who want to keep the spread of the virus down, we also have to respond to new outbreaks and change our habits as suggested by health authorities.

It will be a dance… Opening things up, tightening things up, closing things down, permitting small gatherings, and then recommendations against them. The numbers will dictate what makes sense. And while that’s easy to say, as we do the dance, it will feel like the songs aren’t staying on long enough for us to get used to the rhythm.

It won’t feel like things are normal for quite some time. And that’s not the new normal, that’s a level of stress and uncertainty that will loom for a while. I was trying to avoid paying attention to the numbers, but I realize now that they are something tangible that I can pay attention to. I can see patterns, and try to understand why we are getting the provincial and federal health and social distancing advice that we are getting.

The numbers aren’t complete, they don’t tell the whole story, but they tell us when things are headed in the right versus the wrong direction. Whether they grow incrementally or exponentially, they tell us a story, and we should be aware of when that story changes… and be prepared for new changes to our rules of social and work engagement when they do.

What will it look like?

A few days ago I wrote a post This is not the ‘new normal’, and I said,

“This is not the ‘New Normal’, this is a pandemic that will come to an end. This is temporary.”

This morning I ‘met’ Dave Sands on Zoom and we recorded a podcast. We spent about an hour online together and it was great to ‘see’ him. The fact that this was not face-to-face didn’t matter that much. In fact, I’ve ‘seen’ Dave much more in the last few weeks than I have in months. The reason for this is that we’ve connected almost daily on Microsoft Teams for work, since the March break ended 3 weeks ago. But I would have loved to have Dave over to do the recording. To sit and have coffee and enjoy his company along with the conversation.

This afternoon my wife and I joined another couple in their back yard. We sat apart, respecting ‘social distancing’ norms. We brought our own cups and drinks, and left after only touching the chairs we sat on. No handshakes, no hugs, no communal snacks or drinks. This was our first social gathering like this in about 2 months. It was wonderful to connect.

This is not the new normal, but I wonder what the new normal will look like? Will we be less likely to greet people with hugs and handshakes? Yesterday I saw a girl and her dad at a crosswalk. The young girl looked like she was about 4 years old. She got off her bike and ran to press the crosswalk button… with her elbow. Will we ever look at things like elevator buttons, public handrails, and door handles the same way?

Part of me thinks that things will eventually return to a normal that resembled what it looked like in 2019, but part of me wonders about social norms and practices, and how these will change? Will we bow to greet someone rather than shake their hands, hug, or fist bump? Will restaurant workers preparing our food all wear masks? Will we carry hand sanitizer everywhere we go and use it constantly?

We are months and months away from any kind of normal, but when that normal arrives, how many norms and social practices will have changed as a result of Covid-19 pandemic.

This is not the ‘new normal’

Note to educators:

This is not the ‘New Normal’, this is a pandemic that will come to an end. This is temporary.

We need to be positive. Communicating that this is ‘normal’ is not encouraging to students or parents. 1/3

* This is an opportunity to try new things.

* We are learning at a distance only until we can work together again.

* What a pleasure it is that we can still see each other online.

* Aren’t we lucky to be living at a time when we still get to share experiences digitally! 2/3

Let’s face it, the term ‘New Normal’ is going to be tossed around a lot outside of education, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t construct positive vocabulary and language around these unusual times, in our digital classrooms, and in our communication home. 3/3

That is a thread of 3 tweets that I shared yesterday, and I want to add a little perspective:

Imagine being a grade 12 graduating this year and it was your last high school play that got cancelled, or your final season of Track and Field, or your graduation dinner-dance.

Imagine that you come from a single parent home, your parent works 10 or 12 hour shifts, you have siblings that you don’t get along with, and your daily escape to school is gone.

Imagine that you are 6 years old, and you can’t have a play date, can’t use the playground, and can’t spend time with your grandparents, who usually visit you every weekend.

Imagine any one of thousands of scenarios where your routines, your friendships, your family structures, your family financial well being, and all of your extra-curricular activities are disrupted.

Now let’s just call this the ‘New Normal’… No.

COVID-19, schools closing, and ‘social distancing’ have taken so much away from our kids, let’s not take ‘normal’ away from them too.

Positive shifts

Recently I’ve seen a lot of companies giving away resources and services for free. There has been a significant shift in thinking about how we are all in this together. This has been spurred by the now over 1.1 million people who have been struck with COVID-19, and the realization that this number is going to rise significantly before we see a slowdown in its spread.

Community members are helping each other. Birthday wishes to strangers are spreading like crazy. People are helping elderly neighbours. There is widespread appreciation for health care workers, and custodial workers that support them, and for people working in grocery stores and jobs like delivery drivers.

When I’m out for a walk, people are politely keeping there distance, but also looking up and acknowledging me. I’m not saying this didn’t happen before, but it’s much more obvious now.

I think things are going to get a bit harder before they get better. I think more than ever we need to be a society that supports the most vulnerable. I think we need to invest more in social services, and find ways to make basic needs more equitable. We have a lot to do to make the world a better place.

But maybe, just maybe, there are enough positive changes happening to shift our world to a better place, after the concerns about the virus decrease and the economy rebounds. These aren’t small things that need to happen, but I like to think that some positive shifts will eventually come from this globally unifying experience.

Blind to My Privilege

Part 1. “You silenced my voice.”

It was the summer of 2006 and I was spending five weeks in Eugene, Oregon, completing my Master’s degree. I was there with a cohort of teachers from Coquitlam, BC, Canada, and we had many classes together. A colleague Christine and I had every class together, including a Statistics class we had where there was also a larger cohort of new Oregon teachers who were much younger than us.

These early to mid-20 year olds were in a program where students did a masters right after their teaching practicum. I think at the time the US ‘No Child Left Behind’ policy demanded teachers have so much additional education within the first few years of teaching, beyond their teaching degree, that moving to your masters level before starting teaching made more sense than starting teaching then adding credentials while you taught.

It was the last week of school, in this Stats class, that I learned a valuable lesson about my privilege. The class was being taught by the Teaching Assistant, who we knew because she was also our program faculty advisor. The lesson centered around research done in a school. The data was tracked by race among other variables. I don’t remember why, almost 14 years later, but the data was interesting and the fact that race mattered was relevant to the lesson.

After the lesson one of us, Christine or I, had a question and since we were living one floor apart in the same complex and walked to and from class together, we waited together to speak to the Teaching Assistant. In front of us, a younger, female, (*I assume) Chinese-descent American student was talking to the Teaching Assistant. This student was saying that she thought it was not appropriate to bring up race in the example given in class. I don’t remember if Christine or I interjected first, but we joined the conversation. We didn’t see things the same way as this student. We couldn’t figure out what we were missing? After that conversation was over we finished up with the Teaching Assistant and headed for the door. Before leaving the class, the Chinese American student came up to us and said, “You silenced my voice.”

We asked for clarification, and she explained that she had an issue around race that she was trying to address with the teaching assistant and we interjected and silenced her. We dismissed her concerns and she felt hurt that we had done this to her.

We apologized.

We insisted it wasn’t intentional. She told us this wasn’t about our intentions, it was about how we made her feel. She had a concern, and we dismissed it, we silenced her.

We apologized again.

The walk home was solemn. Christine and I felt awful. We both shed more than one tear. We tried to rationalize our participation in the conversation, but no matter the reason, we could only see that we caused hurt. Our words had power, and that power usurped the power from someone who felt less privileged than us. Our reasons didn’t matter. We were two older, white people who were dismissing the ideas of a younger minority.

Part 2. Rationalizing my blindness

I will preface this rationale with an important clarification: This is not a justification of any kind, it is in fact evidence of my blindness to my own privilege.

My family: My wife describes me as ‘a Chinese Jew from Barbados’. My grandmother on my dad’s side is full Chinese. I have many cousins and second cousins who are full, half, and quarter Chinese. Those that are mixed have mostly white, but also black, and East Indian parents.

When I described the minority student who we silenced, I described her as “(*I assume) Chinese-descent American student“. It’s an assumption because I didn’t ask. What informed my guess was that she didn’t look like another kind of Asian, she looked like family. She had the look of one of my mixed cousins who are mostly Chinese. She wasn’t ‘other’, she was ‘like me and my family’.

That said, I don’t look a lot like that part of the family. Despite my 1/2 Chinese father and my predominantly Ashkenazi Jewish roots, I have a look that Italians mistake for Greek, and Greeks mistake for Italian. I am neither. I’m used to not fitting into any box. In fact, whenever I have to fill out a survey that asked my race, I never check ‘white’. I always choose ‘Other’.

So when I saw this student, I saw family, someone like me. She didn’t see a likeness. She didn’t even see an ‘other’. She saw a white guy… An older white guy and an older white woman, both taking away her minority voice, on the topic of race in a classroom.

My context: I was in a school of higher learning. I was in the last week of a 2-year program where I was invited on a regular basis to challenge the thinking of others. I was comfortable in this role with the Teaching Assistant, (our program advisor), and with Christine. With Christine the metaphorical gloves were always off. We fully engaged in challenging each other’s ideas.

Many a day leading up to that last week Christine and I, both educational nerds, would continue our classroom conversations all the way home. Often, we would arrive at the complex, where we would head our separate ways, but we would remain there for 10, 15, even 30 minutes continuing the conversation.

We saw discourse and disagreement as learning opportunities. We were comfortable with this. We were comfortable doing this with our advisor. But this other student was not part of our community where this was the norm. Besides that, the topic had a very specific charge for her, and we were totally ignorant to it. We were also blind and ignorant to the very different charge that our discourse had.

Part 3. I silenced her voice

I will reiterate: My rationalization above is not a justification of any kind, it is in fact evidence of my blindness to my own privilege. I lacked awareness of my privilege. I could not see it. But my lack of awareness does not negate my privilege.

It does not matter that I did not see her as a minority. It matters that she was one in her eyes.

It does not matter that I thought I was joining a learning conversation. It matters that by joining the conversation, I took away her ability to address a concern with her teacher.

It does not matter that it was not our intention to silence her. It matters that our interruption led to us diminishing her voice.

I am glad that she spoke up. I’m sorry because an apology didn’t feel like enough. I’m also sorry because I have to wonder, when have I done something similar and the person felt they couldn’t speak up?

I know how hard it is, I’ve heard slurs that impact my heritage, and I’ve had to choose when to and when not to say something. But even there I speak from a place of privilege. Those slurs were not directed at me, a person who looks like an ‘other’ to the slur. I don’t live in a sphere where I have to think about my race, and how others will perceive me on a regular basis.

Even in my years that I lived in Barbados and later in China, where I was an obvious minority, I was still in a privileged minority. I didn’t always feel that way, but my experiences that were positive far exceeded the negative. That is not the case for everyone.

If I’m in a conversation where someone will feel silenced, it likely will be me being the imposer, rather than the silenced. Even now, in my current job, I’m further put into that imposing position as a principal talking to students.

Part 4. Accountability

When I made the mistake of silencing this student’s voice I was blind to my privilege and did not see my error. I apologized. I cried. I learned a valuable lesson. I am more aware now of how my privilege can be unintentionally imposed on others.

This experience made me more aware of race and its impact on minorities. I’m bothered that while my heritage is mixed I don’t need to identify with any race, and other people need to; that my privilege gives me a pass that others don’t get.

But that pass does not excuse me from anything. In fact it makes me more responsible to recognize my privilege and to be aware that it can affect others. Being more aware and responsible doesn’t fix everything. I will still have blind spots. If we could see into our own blind spots, they wouldn’t actually be blind.

I will make mistakes. Some of those mistakes will be shared with me and I need to be accountable for how my words and deeds affect others. When the effect is negative, rationalizations are not what is needed, apologies and reparations are.

To ignore my privilege is to be doubly privileged. This is hurtful and arrogant.

If I am blind to my own privilege, it should not be because I have shut my eyes. It should only be because I was not aware… and when I am made aware, I need to be responsive and hold myself accountable. This can’t happen unless I recognize my own privilege.

Empathy and forgiveness

Last night I (re)read, “(Digital) Identity in a World that No Longer Forgets”, by Alec Couros and Katia Hildebrandt. I say ‘(re)read’ because I thought I was reading this article, written in October 2015, for the first time… but when I looked at it again today, I saw the first comment on the article was by me. The internet might not forget, but I do!

In the article, this sentence really struck me:

“In a world where forgetting is no longer possible, we might instead work towards greater empathy and forgiveness.”

We need to recognize that people are allowed to make mistakes. Take the time to read the article by Alec and Katia. These things matter when measuring the severity of someone’s digitally inappropriate contribution: Context and intended audience, intent, history, authorship, and empathy (and forgiveness).

If we treat every transgression on the internet with the same level of disgust and anger, then comparatively we are reducing the level of anger and upset over truly appalling and disturbing comments and behaviours. Furthermore, we are creating an unforgiving and un-empathetic society, that does not allow us to apologize and/or learn from our mistakes.

I’ve written about this in my post ‘Resilience #OneWord2020‘, and I’ll end with a quote from that post:

In Online Spaces:

People will make mistakes online. They will say things that are unintentionallyhurtful, or blindly offensive. This is different than someone being intentionally biased and rude. If the slander is intentional, it should be reported. If it is unintentional, even to the point of ignorance, we need to be more resilient about what our responses are. When every transgression is treated with an attack, the most severe/bigoted/rude/biased transgressions are not given the heightened alarm that they deserve. With lesser errors and mistakes, we need to let people have a venue to recognize their errors and invite conversation rather than damnation.

Growing up, I heard the playground retort to taunts, “Sticks and stones can break my bones, but words will never harm me.” We are past the era of letting nasty people say whatever nasty things they want, and just turning the other cheek to pretend we are not hurt. This is a good thing. We want to live in a world where that behaviour is not acceptable. But it does not serve us well to treat the attacker like they can not repent or be sorry.

The Kindness of Strangers

Imagine you are walking with your kid in a foreign country. You’ve just flown in and arrived downtown by public transportation, suitcases in tow, and you are a 5 block walk away from your hotel. Your kid steps of a curb incorrectly, you hear a pop, and a scream, and there is your kid, buckled just off the edge of the curb, ankle in hand, crying. Any movement of the ankle results in a scream of agony.

You move off the road and a few people have gathered to help. They tell you there is a hospital just 3 blocks away, and point in the opposite direction of the hotel. You realize that you need to carry your kid and there is no way you can also carry all of your suitcases.

You look up at one of the strangers around you and say, “Can you please do me a favour? Here is my business card, can you please take my bags to our hotel and ask them to store them until we get there?” The person agrees. They head to the hotel, suitcases in tow, you head the other way to the hospital holding your kid.

What are the chances that your bags will be at the hotel when you return from the hospital?

– – –

I was listening to The Tim Ferriss Podcast with his guest, magician Penn Jillette, and Penn had some interesting insights into the kindness of strangers.

He said he doesn’t believe in evil, and that if you look at the vast majority of people in the world they are good and kind.

If someone seeks you out to ‘help you’, their motives might need more scrutiny… but if you get to randomly choose someone, anyone, to help you, then the odds are unbelievably high that this stranger will be good.

—

Going back to the scenario:

What are the chances that your bags will be at the hotel when you return from the hospital?

I’d guess pretty close to a hundred percent, what about you?

What does your answer tell you about the kind of world you believe we live in? What experiences have you had to prove or disprove the belief in an inherent kindness of strangers?

Fed up with the news

I don’t watch the news, don’t listen to the radio, but I want to know what’s happening in the world. So I do two things on my phone, first I have the news App and Flipgrid set up on my phone… swipe right from my home screen and there are the headlines. Then there is always the search feature on the Twitter App with the news column.

I don’t spend a lot of time going past the headlines, but I do look a little deeper when major events happen. I also admit to metaphorically slowing down to see the accident at the side of the road, when a certain political leader tweets something outrageous, but the line between news and entertainment blurs here. It would be fully laughable if it wasn’t so unsettling.

This news-through-headlines (and trending hashtags) approach keeps me away from the painful aspects of the news that I’m fed up with, such as:

1. Headlines that belong in Tabloids such as, “This Facebook Post Almost Broke The Internet.” Or: “12 Products You Can’t Live Without.”

2. An overemphasis on Hollywood stars, musicians, and royalty.

3. An embarrassingly morbid focus on the macabre: Shootings, tragedies, and death.

But even this approach doesn’t allow me from escaping the idiocy of the news as described in this tweet:

It doesn’t stop the glorification of horrible people.

It doesn’t prevent me from seeing an onslaught of negative headlines about tragedies around the world.

Yes, some tragedies are relevant to the world, and a few need to make the headlines. But it’s time for news outlets to think of the turmoil and upset they leave behind when they use a ‘If it bleeds, it leads’ attitude. It’s time for news outlets to stop creating click bait titles. It’s time for news outlets to realize the influence they have, and to be more concerned with their influence, and less concerned about getting our attention at any cost.

In the mean time, I’ll try to do my part and avoid clicking on links that I think undermine valuable news sharing for the sake of one more view of advertising on a web page.

Breakfast with a friend

“Come gather around people, wherever you roam
And admit that the waters around you have grown
And accept it that soon you’ll be drenched to the bone
If your time to you is worth savin’
Then you better start swimmin’ or you’ll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin’ ~ Bob Dylan

We sat at a booth chatting, breakfast done, bill paid. We had already turned down more coffee and the waitress was kind enough to fill our water glasses. The restaurant wasn’t full, we weren’t filling a potentially needed booth, and so the waitress didn’t mind that we were still there over 30 minutes after our meal was done.

We were reminiscing about our childhood, and how people would come for a visit and stay for dinner. In my family there were 4 kids so we made a family of 6, but my mother never cooked for less than 10. Someone’s friend (or 2), an aunt, granny, a cousin, even a neighbour might be joining us. If it was just the 6 of us, we had leftovers.

This doesn’t happen much anymore. Having friends over means a half-day of getting the house ready, and a half day of preparing food. Meeting for coffee? How’s next week Thursday? Breakfast? Pick one of these two Sundays. Dinner with a group of friends? We better use that appointment App to find a day that works for all of us.

Or maybe we just chat on the phone. Maybe we text. Comment on Facebook. Like a friend’s tweet… smiley face emoji:)

Gatherings used to be impromptu, spontaneous, and they extended past expected times. “See you soon,” not “See you later,” as in weeks or months later.

Things have changed.

I’m going to try to bring the old ways back a bit. I’m tracking my social connections this year. A dinner and a breakfast last week, a morning coffee and a minor league hockey game this weekend… A walk with my wife, dinner out with my daughter… I’m going to see if intentionally keeping track will inspire me to connect face-to-face more frequently with the people that are geographically available. That doesn’t diminish the opportunities to connect with people who I can’t always see. For those, we have spaces like this.