Get lost!

I really loved last week's class and our foray into psychogeography. As someone who has lived in Portland most of my adult life, I'm constantly amazed by how much I've never noticed because I'm too busy getting from A to B to enjoy the journey.

In doing a little Google searching to learn more about psychogeography and its applications, I found this app: Drift. It will literally take you on a psychogeography tour through any neighborhood by giving a series of seemingly random directions (turn left here, turn right here, etc.) I am planning to use this over the summer--I'm thinking it will make for way more interesting walks than my normal loop through my neighborhood, and encourage me to explore parts of the city I've never noticed despite living here for more than 20 years. Check it out, and let me know if you'd like to go for a walk!

Here are a few pics from our group's walk last Thursday...

I've driven by Pedro Field hundreds of times but never really thought about it as a place of community. I don't recall ever seeing a baseball game happening there (though I'm sure they've been going on), or any activity at all, so it was fascinating to me to hear Dani share her vivid childhood memories of time spent there. One thing our group didn't share in class is that while we were sitting on the bleachers reminiscing about our various adventures (and misadventures) with group sports as children, which the baseball field and Dani's stories conjured up, a person Lacey knew and hadn't seen in some time (judging by the bit of the interaction I picked up) just happened to walk by. Kind of a cool coincidence, especially in a place that I never think of as particularly pedestrian-friendly despite its close proximity to Back Cove.

Interestingly, the very next time I drove by that field, there were people playing ball (informally) there. I wonder how many times I've missed that because I was too busy to pay attention? 

The Golden Rule

Reclaiming my faith and joining HopeGateWay United Methodist Faith Community at age 40, after living most of my adult life alternating between “spiritual but not religious” and “too smart for church”, has been a profoundly moving and important personal experience. It’s also been very challenging at times, as the hate-filled behavior of people who call themselves Christians (see: Westboro Baptist Church or hundreds of other recent examples) makes me angry and ashamed to be associated in even the minutest way with anyone who claims to follow the teachings of Christ. In fact, organized religion in general gets a bad—and often well-earned—rap for hurting, alienating and shaming people who need to hear the message that they, too, are beloved children of God, the Universe or whatever higher power they may (or may not) believe in.

Today, however, I was proud of my affiliation with HopeGateWay, with Christians and other people of faith throughout our community, as I attended “Neighbors Standing Shoulder to Shoulder,” an event hosted by USM's Multicultural Student Affairs, the Maine Council of Churches, the USM Muslim Student Association, and several other groups. More than 20 people representing a wide array of faith traditions—including Jewish, Hindu, Sikh, Muslim, Buddhist, Quaker, Methodist, Unitarian Universalist, Catholic, Ba’hai and many others—spoke about the thread that weaves us all together: the call to love our neighbors as ourselves. A particularly powerful moment among many was when two young Muslim women spoke about the fear that rippled through their community when news of the murders of a Muslim family in Chapel Hill, NC occurred several months ago, and the challenges of having their faith judged based on the actions of people who bastardize Islam and the Koran to justify acts of violence.

One of the pastors of my church, Rev. Sara Ewing-Merrill, shared the following message written by pastor, poet and composer, Steve Garnaas-Holmes*, that to me was a beautiful reminder that we are more alike than different:

We are not separate things, but parts of one living Being.We are no more separate than the fingers on a hand.There is one body, and we are all it.We serve the poor because they are us.We love the stranger because in them we know ourselves.We side with the oppressed because they hold our wisdom.We honor those who are different because they complete us.We respect those who horrify us, for they are within us.We bring the Other to our table: it is theirs, for we are theirs.We include them in our compassion, for we include them.This is the mystery of the Holy Trinity, that in all there is One.
There is One of us, and the oneness, the One, is Holy.

(*I do not have a reference to where this was originally published.) 

 Executive Director of Maine Council of Churches and Unitarian
Universalist pastor, Rev. Sue Gabrielson, welcomes people to the event.

Ashok Nalamalapu, representing the Hindu community, speaks.

For me, this event was an important reminder that faith communities can be vital partners with secular organizations in the work of community building, restorative justice, and social change we have talked so much about this semester.

Talking about race

By now, most folks have heard about Starbucks' "Race Together" program, launched just a week or so ago and ended after just seven days. The idea behind the program, according to Starbucks' CEO Howard Schultz in a memo to partners, was to "stimulate conversation, empathy and compassion toward one another, and then to broaden that dialogue beyond just our Starbucks family to the greater American public by using our scale for good."

Starbucks was sharply criticized in the media and public for the effort for being, among other things, hypocritical, tone-deaf or a marketing ploy to sell more coffee. Schultz claimed that the plan all along was to end the controversial, and supposedly voluntary, practice of having baristas write "race together" on selected customers' cups as a way to initiate dialogue--though skeptics believe the company pulled the plug due to the loud and widespread outcry against this practice. Starbucks will, according to Schultz, carry on with other planned elements of the campaign, as detailed on the company's website.

Video from Starbucks employee forum on race

I will admit that I initially found the concept of the "Race Together" messages on coffee cups a bit strange, too. How would a barista choose who got the message and who didn't? If they write that on my cup, does that mean they think I am receptive to the conversation--or that I'm part of the problem? How do employees really feel about this--about putting themselves between a bleary-eyed customer and their venti mocha in order to further race relations in America?

What I found the most odd, though, was not that a company would have the audacity to step forward to try this social experiment, but that they thought it was a conversation that could be encapsulated into the time it takes to order and pay for a coffee and muffin (have you seen the line at your local Starbucks during rush hour?!) 

Where I disagree with the critics, however, is that I think Starbucks should be applauded for attempting to DO SOMETHING...even if it didn't go exactly the way they might have hoped. They were willing to step up and say, "Whose job is it to start the conversation about race? Anyone and everyone." In my opinion, it was a gutsy and admirable move to use their vast network to address an issue that affects their employees and customers every day, even at the risk of losing customers.

Am I naive enough to think this was a purely altruistic effort? Of course not--in fact, Starbucks' stock price hit a 52-week high the week AFTER "Race Together" was blasted. I don't, however, think it's a bad thing that they profited from this gamble. In fact, I hope this bodes well for other companies with progressive leadership who might be willing to take a bigger risk if they see that their shareholders won't suffer (whether that's the best motivation is a topic for another day...)
____________________________________

On a somewhat tangential note, I saw an interesting play at Mad Horse Theatre last week that also tackles some important questions about race and who gets to decide what is fair. Alligator Road, written by local playwright Callie Kimball, is the story of a white woman, Kathy, who inherits a hardware store in the Florida panhandle from her husband. Kathy decides, in the interest of "reparations," to give the store away to a black woman she meets at a local family shelter. The ensuing dialogue between the store owner and her college-age daughter, as well as with the new owner, Lavinia, and her white husband, raises questions of "white guilt", assumptions we make about people based on race and gender, and how outraged is a person of color "supposed" to be in the face of obvious bias?

The play is not flawless--in some cases I was left wanting more of the backstory on why Kathy is so committed to the idea of reparations (a word she uses repeatedly), as well as more interaction between Kathy and Lavinia....but I thought it was a story with great potential and a powerful message (not to mention a fabulous set featuring handmade yarn "cozies" covering every paint can and power tool in sight!)

Alligator Road is playing at Mad Horse Theatre through Sunday, March 29th

"The University of Everywhere"

I've been thinking a lot since last week's discussion about rural poverty and lack of access to services. This issue is not news to me (or, I'm sure, most of us). My parents both grew up in rural Maine, one in a farming community where probably 80% of the people are related by blood or marriage, and another in a town that was centered around Bass Shoe until Bass began shipping jobs south and across the Pacific. I am also reminded of the disparity every time I field a call on the Alzheimer's Association Helpline from someone in Washington County, Aroostook County, Pistcataquis County (whose low population density qualifies it as a "frontier"), who desperately needs caregiver support and other services that simply aren't available within 2 hours (or even 3) from their home because our agency, like so many others, simply can't afford to staff multiple offices in Maine.

It's loosely in that context that I wanted to share an interesting conversation I had earlier this week with a colleague at my internship, about a "Fresh Air" podcast with Kevin Carey, author of The End Of College: Creating The Future Of Learning And The University Of Everywhere. Casey believes college in its current form merely serves to perpetuate privilege--with tuition for a bachelor's degree at a private institution often exceeding a quarter million dollars over four years, it's not hard to see his point. Certainly, there are exceptions, including my cousin's daughter, who grew up in that aforementioned farming town in rural Maine and received a full scholarship to Yale, where she recently graduated with a degree in political science (but I digress). 

In his interview, Casey talks about his experience of taking a class on EdX, which offers free online courses on a wide array of subjects. EdX was originally started as a partnership between Harvard and MIT to create free, open access to the same curriculum and classes their students take (and pay hundreds of thousands of dollars for); participating universities now include dozens of institutions in the US and around the world. Casey himself decided to take a biology class that is required of all first-year MIT students, whom one would presume to be some of the brightest minds in the US (and the world). This is not a watered-down free version--it is the same class, with the same lectures, assignments and final exam that is required of all first-year MIT students, whom one would presume to be some of the brightest minds in the US (and the world). Casey was proud to earn a final grade of 87/B in the class, which was taught by someone who was involved with the Human Genome Project (i.e., no slouch!). But what he found most interesting is that, among the thousands of people who took the class, only about 100 earned a perfect score on the exam--one of those was a teenager in Mongolia. As he notes, this kid was literally about as far away, geographically (and demographically/socioeconomically, I'd guess) from MIT as anyone on planet earth...yet he had the same intellectual ability and potential (perhaps more) than many students who are fortunate enough to be able to attend one of the world's most prestigious universities. In fact, that same kid ended up becoming Mongolia's first-ever student at MIT. Pretty amazing.

I find it incredibly exciting to think of the potential a system like EdX has to create opportunities for people in rural areas--whether a world away or right here in Maine--to access a world-class education and feel empowered to imagine possibilities for their futures that may never have seemed realistic before.

Raise your voice

A couple of weeks ago, I had the opportunity to participate in an all-day training by Maine Equal Justice Partners on how to be a better advocate. I attended with a group from HopeGateWay (my church) and Hope Acts (a nonprofit whose board I chair) that included several asylum seekers from central Africa who are, among other things, concerned about the impact of the Governor's proposed cuts to General Assistance in the state budget.

General Assistance provides a lifeline to asylum seekers who, despite what Gov. LePage would have you believe, are here legally under the current U.S. law. They come to the U.S. to escape unimaginable violence, persecution and, too often, almost certain death or incarceration in their home countries. Given the way the asylum process works, it takes a minimum of 150 days for an asylum seeker to get a work permit--something most of them desperately want--and the clock doesn't start until they have filed their asylum application (a process that itself can take months because of its complexity). In the meantime, staying in the already overcrowded Portland shelters can retraumatize people who have experienced significant trauma, so GA provides the basics--food and shelter--until people are legally permitted to work.

There were about 50 people in attendance at the training, from all walks of life. What was heartening to me was that most of the attendees were not just allies of the disenfranchised, which I guess is what I would consider myself, but people who will be deeply, directly impacted by the proposed budget and the Governor's incessant attacks on welfare and those who rely on it. Hearing their stories was, in itself, worth the trip to Augusta on a blustery Friday. The fact that they were there indicated, to me, that they had hope--that they felt like their stories mattered and could make a difference.

Several state legislators and senators spoke to our group. The message they all shared: your voices matter. We want to hear from you--we want to know how you and your family will be affected. Your stories give us energy and purpose. They urged all participants to connect with their legislators and talk about the issues that matter. Some general advice they gave:

• Speak from the heart. 
• Tell your representative why you care about the issue and how it will impact you (or people you care about).
• Give examples--numbers, stories about what you have experienced or what you fear if a bill passes (or doesn't pass). These are the stories legislators will share with their colleagues in committee meetings and work sessions, or on the House floor.
• Don't give up. The legislature is, well, political...things won't always go the way you hope. Compromises happen that you may not like. Keep fighting.

It was an energetic session filled with great tools and lessons (I have handouts I'm happy to share if anyone is interested). But what was most special, for me, was riding home with a man from Burundi who had attended the training with our group. He fled his home country because speaking out put him in danger. He told me he felt excited and empowered to know that, here in Maine, the leaders of our state (well, maybe not the Governor) want to hear what he has to say. That it is his right, even as a non-citizen, to speak up and tell his story---that his voice makes a difference. It reminded me how important it is for us all to find our voices--and to help our clients find theirs and advocate for themselves, with our support.

If you are not familiar with Maine Equal Justice Partners, they are an incredible resource. I definitely recommend reaching out to them if you need help, whether it's for a client, organization or a cause that's personally important to you. And I strongly urge everyone to learn about the specifics of the Governor's proposed budget and speak to your representatives in Augusta about areas that concern you.

"Pay for Success"

One element of the social labs approach that excited me was the attempt to shift from the idea of funding "proven" programs and instead supporting innovative risk-taking. The current paradigm--prove it, then we'll give you money--is challenging to organizations that are on the ground, working with people in communities ripe for change, with some exciting new ideas on what might work but simply lacking the resources to give them a shot. As someone who has done a fair amount of grant writing for a small grassroots nonprofit, the whole exercise of securing grants (or any other sort of funding, really) does not seem built to reward true innovation. It's more akin to trying to get your first "real" job out of college--in order to get a job, you need a proven track record of experience on your resume...but in order to get that experience, you need to get a job. A very high-stakes game of chicken and egg!

A quick Google search for "social labs success" pointed me to the Corporation for National and Community Service, the organization that oversees, among other things, the Americorps program. The page I landed on was called the "Social Innovation Fund." Here's the opening paragraph about the SIF model:

The Social Innovation Fund (SIF) is a key White House initiative and program of the Corporation for National and Community Service that awards grants to identify, validate, and grow promising approaches to challenges facing local communities.

It sounds promising--a government initiative that claims to want to support new ways of solving old as well as emerging challenges. There's a lot of language about finding "solutions that work", bringing private and public partners together to help people at the community level. But you'll forgive my skepticism about whether these are the words of leaders who are truly committed to this approach or just a bunch of marketing fluff to cover up the same old, same old approach.

One of the other programs tied to SIF is called Pay for Success. I get the idea--pour money into the initiatives that have proven effective. Certainly we don't want the government throwing money at things that don't work (Congress has already mastered that art). I wondered, though, who is defining "success"? What indicators are being evaluated to determine whether an effort is worth paying for? Is risk-taking and boldness being rewarded? I hope so--but as Hassan (2014) notes in the introduction to his book, when it comes to social change, "we fund tightly controlled five-year plans." (p.8) What will it take to shake us out of that mindset and understand that "failure" breeds innovation. Why is it that this concept is not hard to grasp when we're talking about how Post-It Notes were accidentally invented by 3-M, but not when we are talking about programs that affect entire communities?

As a somewhat related aside, I wanted to share the article below from  yesterday's Bangor Daily News. While I'm hardly objective on this issue (I feel strongly that cities should not be penalized for using GA to provide help to those in greatest need, no matter where they were born), I think it's clear that the governor is trying to convince the public that Portland has been unsuccessful in managing GA funds based on a singular measure--cost per person in poverty--without considering the full context. It's also clear to me that we are not going to solve this problem through the same approaches that have been used in the past.

Mayor calls DHHS claim that Portland mismanaging General Assistance a scheme to pit small Maine towns against cities

References:

Corporation for National and Community Service. Social innovation fund. Retrieved on February 10, 2015 from http://www.nationalservice.gov/programs/social-innovation-fund

Hassan, Z. (2014). The social labs revolution. San Francisco, CA: Berrett-Koehler Publishers, Inc.

Thistle, S. (2015, February 9). Mayor blasts DHHS claim that Portland mismanages General Assistance. Sun Journal. Retrieved on February 10, 2015 from http://bangordailynews.com/2015/02/09/politics/mayor-calls-dhhs-claim-that-portland-mismanages-general-assistance-a-scheme-to-pit-small-maine-towns-against-cities/

An addendum to my previous post

Thanks, Lacey and Gwen, for suggesting I turn my post into an op-ed....fortunately for me, Scott Schnapp, Executive Director of MANP, has already tackled this. From today's Portland Press Herald:

Another view: Hospitals aren't the only nonprofits affected by LePage's budget plan