is currently completing a PhD in Political Science, focused on questions of civic participation in the digital age. Shellee continues to investigate and utilize new media to engage communities of students, teachers and leaders in civic education from around the world through her work with the Center for Civic Education and the Center for the Constitution at James Madison’s Montpelier.
My Longreads Habit
Martin Luther King famously made reference to the long arc of the moral universe and I worry that our digital lives have made this arc impossible to see. No, this isn’t a moral argument.
Headlines are little more than points on a line. An arc requires recognizing the relationship between those points, the distance covered and how they combine to make an arc in the first place. The more my world gets broken into 140 character tweets or overrun by headline haberdashery, the more I wonder if anyone has their eye on the long arc of anything at all.
I can “process” tons of headlines and news bits as I scroll through my Twitter feed but this does little change the contours of what I know (or don’t). So, I made a commitment to longform journalism by cultivating a longreads habit.
A political junkie by nature, I replaced my Sunday talk show habit with a morning spent returning to all the longer articles I didn’t have time for during the week. An app called Pocket (formerly Read It Later) has made this an easy habit to cultivate. As I work through headlines and tweets, I save longer articles to Pocket where I can easily find them again at the end of the week. I’m not as good about tweeting my favorite reads so my Longreads page is a bit sparse, but I regularly visit the Longreads main page to review that community’s recommendations and diversify my information “portfolio.”
In April, Longreads features my recommendation in their weekly newsletter. My reasons for that recommendation also communicate why I think a longreads habit is essential to an educated person’s “information diet.”
“A longread I can’t stop recommending this week is ‘Race, Tragedy and Outrage Collide After a Shot in Florida’ by Dan Barry, Serge F. Kovaleski, Campbell Robertson and Lizette Alvarez in The New York Times. There is no shortage of analysis of the Trayvon Martin case that uses only headlines and sound bites to get to familiar conclusions. This piece aims to tell the story through the many voices and perspectives that make Sanford the place it is. Zimmerman is a watchdog who mentors young men and deters bullies, while Trayvon Martin is ‘a teenager, not an angel’ whose family has had to work through a series of school suspensions. What I like most about this piece is that the community itself comes into focus wrestling with an economic downturn and rampant home foreclosures. It’s a story that moves beyond these two men ‘as rhetorical devices in the heated, never-ending national disagreements about race and guns,’ and begs us all to consider the health of our own communities.”
I posted a quandary on Twitter yesterday… is there something called civic art that is somehow different from what we generally discuss as public art?
I thought maybe the difference resided in the connectedness that either motivates a work of art or is generated by it once it’s in place. Perhaps public art tends to be static and fixed while civic art is more dynamic. Public art provokes aesthetic discussions while civic art requires reflective conversations about the people themselves.
By happy circumstance, I stumbled upon an interesting lecture on public art when I flipped through my iTunes U collection this morning. Res Publica is the first lecture of the University of Chicago’s Uncommon Core, a series I highly recommend. Rebecca Zorach uses the story of Chicago’s Picasso (and its copies) to talk through what it means to be a public “thing.”
Literally, a thing. At the time of its installation, Picasso’s sculpture was referred to as batman, a viking ship, a horse, a dog, an eagle, a monkey, an angel and a woman. Or maybe a platypus?
Zorach’s lecture offers this tale of a public thing as she asks whether or not it’s possible for a work of art to become a public thing by provoking something more than aesthetic discussions. Can public art provoke conversations that are vital to an understanding of civic life in a broader sense? Do these discussions reveal a public face of the people that was unknown or unseen before the work of art existed?
The creation of the sculpture was given to the people of Chicago. This could be read to suggest that what was given over is not just the sculpture itself but the act of creation. Picasso allowed the people of Chicago to create his sculpture.. In a way he makes them collaborators.
In giving his sculpture to the people of Chicago, he also gives them the possibility of deciding what it is.
The people of Chicago are collaborators in a work of public art that exists as an idea first represented by a maquette, finds its form as a 162-ton sculpture in Daley Plaza and provoke countless public debates. Now that’s art!
Watch her talk on YouTube by clicking the picture above or or search for the University of Chicago’s Uncommon Core series on iTunes U.
***cross-posted at Politicolor.com***
The future, whether it’s near or far in the imaginations of science fiction writers, might reveal something about current events. A Chart that Reveals how Science Fiction Futures Changed Over Time on i09 looks like a great conversation starter.
Reading Imagine by Jonah Lehrer… the danger of starting with the happy ending is overlooking the absolute necessity of frustration and disappointment.
A great democratic revolution is taking place among us: all see it, but all do not judge it in the same manner. Some consider it a new thing, and taking it for an accident, they still hope to be able to stop it; whereas others judge it irresistible because to them it seems the most continuous, the oldest, and the most permanent fact known in history.
Eric Liu suggests we all need to develop our “citizen muscle” to save democracy. That, going local, thinking in terms of challenges and creating opportunities for citizens to serve will turn this ship around. I’m not so sure.
“Democracy is for Amateurs: Why we need more citizen citizens,” from The Atlantic:
Why is government in America so hack-worthy now? There is a giant literature on how interest groups have captured our politics, with touchstones texts by Mancur Olson, Jonathan Rauch, and Francis Fukuyama. The message of these studies is depressingly simple: democratic institutions tend toward what Rauch calls “demosclerosis” — encrustation by a million little constituencies who clog the arteries of government and make it impossible for the state to move or adapt.
Image above is from a 2003 demo album
An interesting take on representing public opinion in real-time. And not all of NYT readers had a positive reaction to yesterday’s news!
One consequence of the resort to the courts has been the erosion of the skills of civic engagement that are central to the successful operation of the Madisonian regime. These skills include accepting defeat graciously and reacting to it industriously—that is, by seeking to change the community’s mind, which in turn presumes the skills of persuasion, openness to persuasion, empathy and reasonableness. The polarization produces by rights cases suggests an alarming atrophy of these capacities.
—From Greg Weiner’s Madison’s Metronome: The Constitution, Majority Rule, and the Tempo of American Politics
More from Code for America’s Jennifer Pahlka, “We’re not going to fix government until we fix citizenship.” Sometimes a neighbor can provide the help you need faster than the city.
That saves time, money and worry for all of us.
In a republican government the ballot-box is the urn of fate; yet no god shakes the bowl or presides over the lot. If the ballot-box is open to wisdom and patriotism and humanity, it is equally open to ignorance and treachery, to pride and envy, to contempt for the poor or hostility towards the rich. It is the loosest filter ever devised to strain out impurities…
—Horace Mann, Fourth of July Oration 1823
“You can’t fix government if citizens aren’t deeply involved,” she says. “I think the future of government is much more peer-to-peer. It’s a platform for people lending a hand and helping one another. If we can find new ways for cities to interact with citizens, and citizens step up to the plate and act like the institution of government belongs to them and the health of communities are something they can take a part in, then we’ll have done something that we can be proud of.”
That’s digital government. It’s peer-to-peer and fosters a shared responsibility for public institutions and local communities.
I highly recommend this longread on flash mobs from Wired:
It begins…
Let’s start with the fundamental paradox: Our personal technology in the 21st century—our laptops and smartphones, our browsers and apps—does everything it can to keep us out of crowds…
And yet: On those rare occasions when we want to form a crowd, our tech can work a strange, dark magic.
It discusses the origin of the term and how seemingly impromptu dance parties share the label with the UK riots. In an effort to understand crowd dynamics, the author turns to Clifford Stott who studies violence among soccer fans. Far from the analysis you’ll see on television during an event like the riots or the looting after Hurricane Katrina, Stott proposes we see
…crowds as the opposite of ruleless, and crowd violence as the opposite of senseless: What seems like anarchic behavior is in fact governed by a shared self-conception and thus a shared set of grievances.
He identifies two basic factors to predict the potential for violence that the articles author, Bill Wasik, applies to a music crowd that exceeded all expectations for turnout at an event and then turned violent.
It’s an incredibly interesting discussion of how social media is changing these equations. The author’s willingness to discuss what we know alongside what we don’t know is also essential.
…speech that invokes particular and personal forms of knowledge and emotion can draw citizens into exercising their capacity for judgment. We can only judge using criteria that we accept. The activity of judgment is therefore one in which we adjust certain commitments in light of others. Over time, such adjustments give to our beliefs and emotions a certain structure, producing hierarchies of criteria to which we turn, consciously or unconsciously, when evaluation new situations. We judge best when we are situated within these structures of value, able to draw on their complexity and able to feel, emotionally, the moral and practical relevance of different considerations in as subtle a way as experience has equipped us to do. And because the patterns of though and emotion are not set in stone, because much of the art of rhetoric consists in drawing new pathways between hitherto weakly related parts of these structures, we need not view ourselves as trapped in our situation but simply grounded there.
—from Bryan Garsten’s Saving Persuasion: A Defense of Rhetoric and Judgment
I’m all in for a day of civic innovation!
The projects listed for tomorrow’s Code Across America event in Austin all look like gold to a healthy and vibrant city. I’m going to have a tough time deciding between the public art mapper and bridging the digital divide.
Ron Paul, the lively elfin conscience of the Constitution, scolded Santorum after each one of these moments. Mirthful and full of delight, Paul answered the question about why he was running an ad saying Santorum was a fake by saying with a wide smile, “Because he is a fake.” Most devastating, though, was this Paul line: “He calls this a team sport. He has to go along to get along. That’s the problem with Washington,” said Paul. “That’s been going on for so long. So I don’t accept that form of government. I understand it. That is the way it works. You were with the majority. You were the whip and you organized and got these votes all passed. But I think the obligation of all of us should be the oath of office. It shouldn’t be the oath to the party.
The only thing fun about the endless string of GOP debates is John Dickerson’s analysis of them. This line about Ron Paul from Out of Air in Arizona provoked a giggle… lively elfin conscience of the Constitution. And one that scolds you too!
That’s not groovy.
I’ll stop short of asking what unlucky roll of the dice gave the Constitution an elfin conscience rather than a paladin or a rogue.
Lincoln loved to tell stories. Anyone who met with him commented on his endless supply of anecdotes and jokes. Count Adam Gurowski, a Polish exile who worked in the State Department, observed, ‘In the midst of the most stirring and exciting — nay, death-giving — news, Mr. Lincoln has always a story to tell.’ Ralph Waldo Emerson found it delightful: ‘When he has made his remark, he looks up at you with a great satisfaction, & shows all his white teeth, & laughs.’ Walt Whitman saw something else in Lincoln’s storytelling; he thought it was ‘a weapon which he employ’d with great skill.’
Newspapers are the most reliable source of election news. Trustworthiness and in-depth analysis are most valued.
Tell me that story about the social media revolution again.
Craig Newmark offers an interesting analysis of what we’re looking for in election news and who we trust to provide it. There’s much more to see. Click the image or the link to check it out.
Through a circulatory system along the jukebox’s edges trails of dark blue bubbles rose. Bubbles representing the effervescence of American life, of our postwar optimism, of our fizzy, imperial, carbonated drinks. Bubbles full of the hot air of American democracy, boiling up from the stacked vinyl platters inside.
—from Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides
The jukebox is the only companion to a restauranteur guarding his empty diner during Detroit’s 1967 race riots. He eventually lets it go up in flames and buys a 1967 Cadillac Fleetwood with the insurance money.
So, what is real leadership? Leadership is about giving credit not taking it, breaking down barriers not building them, destroying bureaucracies not creating them, bridging positional and philosophical gaps not setting boundaries, thinking big and acting bigger, being able to focus on short-term objectives without losing sight of long-term value, not focusing on the volume of outputs but the impact of said outputs, surrender not control, and most of all, leadership is about truly caring for those whom you serve.
Among the world’s democracies,” Professors Law and Versteeg concluded, “constitutional similarity to the United States has clearly gone into free fall. Over the 1960s and 1970s, democratic constitutions as a whole became more similar to the U.S. Constitution, only to reverse course in the 1980s and 1990s.
I posted a quandary on Twitter yesterday… is there something called civic art that is somehow different from what we generally discuss as public art?
I thought maybe the difference resided in the connectedness that either motivates a work of art or is generated by it once it’s in place. Perhaps public art tends to be static and fixed while civic art is more dynamic. Public art provokes aesthetic discussions while civic art requires reflective conversations about the people themselves.
By happy circumstance, I stumbled upon an interesting lecture on public art when I flipped through my iTunes U collection this morning. Res Publica is the first lecture of the University of Chicago’s Uncommon Core, a series I highly recommend. Rebecca Zorach uses the story of Chicago’s Picasso (and its copies) to talk through what it means to be a public “thing.”
Literally, a thing. At the time of its installation, Picasso’s sculpture was referred to as batman, a viking ship, a horse, a dog, an eagle, a monkey, an angel and a woman. Or maybe a platypus?
Zorach’s lecture offers this tale of a public thing as she asks whether or not it’s possible for a work of art to become a public thing by provoking something more than aesthetic discussions. Can public art provoke conversations that are vital to an understanding of civic life in a broader sense? Do these discussions reveal a public face of the people that was unknown or unseen before the work of art existed?
The creation of the sculpture was given to the people of Chicago. This could be read to suggest that what was given over is not just the sculpture itself but the act of creation. Picasso allowed the people of Chicago to create his sculpture.. In a way he makes them collaborators.
In giving his sculpture to the people of Chicago, he also gives them the possibility of deciding what it is.
The people of Chicago are collaborators in a work of public art that exists as an idea first represented by a maquette, finds its form as a 162-ton sculpture in Daley Plaza and provoke countless public debates. Now that’s art!
Click here to view the embedded video.
Watch her talk on YouTube by clicking the picture above or or search for the University of Chicago’s Uncommon Core series on iTunes U.
***Cross-posted at Stepwinder.com***
The red state / blue state model has completely infected our political discussions. And it is an infection. This simple video from OK Go is a fun reminder that “the world is full of every kind of color.” What are we missing when we refuse to see anything but red states and blue states in our politics?
Click here to view the embedded video.
Following this train of thought, you might also enjoy flipping through the maps Esquire Magazine collected when they asked five artists, architects and designers to recreate the U.S. map to reflect “the state of things this year.” Check it out here. The collection covers urban sprawl, our real-time activity and a Keynesian contraction! (Oi! That sounds like it would hurt!)
How do you ask you students to exercise alternate perspectives in the classroom? It’s easy to get stuck only seeing primary colors, especially on a Monday! How do you challenge yourself to see alternative perspectives as a professional?
One of my favorite Vonnegut bits is a story he tells at the beginning of Slapstick about his brother…
Bernard worked for the General Electric Research Laboratory in Schenectady, New York for awhile, where he discovered that silver iodide could precipitate certain clouds as snow or rain. His laboratory was a sensational mess, however, where a clumsy stranger could die in a thousand different ways, depending on where he stumbled.
The company had a safety officer who nearly swooned when he saw this jungle of deadfalls and snares and hair-trigger booby traps. He bawled out my brother.
My brother said this to him, tapping his own forehead with his fingertips: “If you think this laboratory is bad, you should see what it’s like in here.
And so it goes with my virtual workspace. I often have too many apps running and so many tabs open in FireFox that the the processor claims to be running at 120% (Yeah, as if that’s actually possible). I don’t even hear the fans anymore but my husband often asks if the laptop has been cleared for lift off. Sometimes it’s about pulling those links into a Politicolor post *someday* and sometimes it’s about having something smart to throw at Twitter *someday*.
This bad habit is absolutely necessary. I need those tabs open to nag me each day to DO SOMETHING with them. And today’s the day.
I’m introducing a post format we’ll call “Open Tab.” The basic idea is to share our best (of the moment) web finds and to let these ideas escape desktop limbo. I still enjoy a couple of finds from a similar effort in 2010, our Weekly Wavelength series. Reading interesting things is… interesting. But the best thinking happens when you create opportunities to talk about all that stuff rolling around in your head.
Clear your cache. Post those links. Add a thought or two about what you found interesting and let’s talk about it.
Open Tab, round one, starts here…
Our Blue Marble HD
NPR shared these amazing photos of the Earth from space. Multiple satellite images were combined to yield the most high definition images we’ve seen so far. As NPR notes, “We all suddenly saw the world in a whole new way,” when the original was released in 1972. Now there’s more detail and color in the image and it all reminded me of a perfectly old way of seeing things… Cicero’s View from 100,000 Miles, our 2009 mash up of Cicero and astronaut Micheal Collins’s reflections on why this image is so powerful.
Music of the Spheres when Bach was Born
Then there’s the music of spheres. When you play the video below, you’ll hear what its creator calls Bach’s musical signature. Daniel Starr-Tabmor’s Mandala is an intriguing piece of art on several dimensions. I can’t take credit for figuring out all the math so read all the details on Brain Pickings. One piece of data to encourage you to click… this musical piece has “62 vigintillion individual notes” that are the same forwards and back, making it “the longest palindrome in existence.”
Click here to view the embedded video.
Public Trust Slips Away
The New York Times is hosting a discussion about lies and politics titled, Why Politicians Get Away with Lying. This follows the same thread picked up by our first Citizen’s Conundrum and charges us all with a responsibility to guard our public trust:
The temptation is strong, in our partisan climate, for politicians, their supporters and all who have a stake in their victory to view their own misstatements as innocuous compared with those of their opponents. To the extent that they choose to engage in distortion and allow others to carry out smear campaigns on their behalf, they will contribute further to public distrust and to doubts about their personal character and integrity.
Perhaps it’s all an effort to exonerate the press after the New York Times kerfuffle over their obligation to challenge untruths. It’s a sad story when you combine that conclusion with the recent report from the American Association of Colleges and University. In an op-ed on CNN, Noliwe Rooks, from Princeton’s Center for African American Studies, initiates her thoughts with the dismal statistics…
Today, fewer Americans than ever believe one requirement of citizenship is to right the wrongs in our nation. So says a recent report by the American Association of American Colleges and Universities released recently at the White House. The report, called “A Crucible Moment: College Learning and Democracy’s Future,” warns that the United States is nearing the point of becoming a “citizen-less” nation where the majority sit on the sidelines pointing out, complaining about and urging others to act.
Since the next post in the queue is an attempt to convince you to write something for Politicolor, I have to include a small piece of Rooks’s solution too…
We need to provide opportunities for students and faculty to use their skills as writers, thinkers and researchers to become social entrepreneurs who work to actually solve social issues, not just soften their impact. The version of civics that we teach now is a Band-aid to our social and political ills. A new vision could encourage students to find a cure, getting at the root causes of inequality and injustice and transforming our nation.
In the end I wasn’t satisfied with Rooks’s answer to the problem. It often seems to be too narrowly focused on the question of employment. At least that’s what think bothers me about it, so I’m curious to hear alternative opinions.
We think KNOWING is so easy that we approach the unknowable with suspicion. Longitude by Dava Sobel and William J.H. Andrews is a worthwhile read if only to challenge the certainty of our suppositions. Modern precision is grounded in countless struggles with imprecision.
Anyone who believes the modern world is a simple one should read Dava Sobel’s Longitude. Lucky for us, many of our modern luxuries make this historical puzzle of knowing your location an interesting story rather than a daily challenge. It’s as easy as an app on a smartphone, the right Google search string or clicking a city on a web-based map. Facebook, Twitter and other apps regularly ask for permission to share your location. Longitude reminds us this simple request is far from easy to make happen. The modern luxury is in having access to a daunting amount of information through simple tools and Sobel’s book takes us back to the point of origin for determining your coordinates.
The truth is that we encounter what is at least difficult to know or even unknowable more often than we realize. The book concludes with a short passage that captures how simple and familiar ideas help us believe we know something about the incomprehensible.
With his marine clocks, John Harrison tested the waters of space-time. He succeeded, against all odds, in using the fourth—temporal—dimension to link points on the three-dimensional globe. He wrested the world’s whereabouts from the stars, and locked the secret in a pocket watch.
We recognize this idea of “testing the water,” but Sobel asks us to apply it to space-time. Few of us have any experience with space-time outside of our favorite Star Trek episode. We’ve never actually seen this temporal dimension but we can imagine it alongside the three-dimensions we know and the recognizable globe those dimensions draw for us. Distant stars had obscured our whereabouts for centuries until something as familiar as a pocket watch made it possible to know one’s location. What we know (the watch, three-dimensional space, and troubled waters) helps us understand what is unknowable (space-time, the fourth dimension and the systems of the universe).
We regularly rely on our imagination to understand the world around us. Our preoccupation with using the simple tools of modern life while dismissing the complexity of their original proposition is dangerous. It threatens our understanding of how essential imagination is to the pursuit of knowledge and our ability to invent the very tools that have captured our attention. The GPS embedded in your car or your smartphone began with John Harrison’s first model for calculating longitude, the H-1. It weighed 75 pounds and sat in a 4ft. x 4ft. x 4ft. cabinet. Accurate enough for the Longitude Board charged with granting the £20,000 award, the H-1 did not satisfy its inventor who had spent five years building it. Harrison knew it could be more precise. And more manageable. Solving the problem of longitude was not enough if the solution was impractical for sailors who needed this information while navigating the open sea. Knowing one’s longitude had alluded sailors and astronomers for hundreds of years, but Harrison seemed to believe finally knowing it was of little value without an easy way to access the data and calculate distance.
His designs continued to evolve until he presented the H-4 nearly 25 years later. The H-4, Harrison’s “sea watch,” finally put the precise measure of time in a device as simple as a pocket watch. The precise measure of longitude was not only knowable in 1760, it was finally easy to use.
The elements of Sobel’s narrative as she tells the longitude story sometimes appear more convenient than real. Longitude undoubtedly only skims the surface of the actual story, but the opportunity to think through the complicated nature of something considered to be so simple today makes the quick read worthwhile. The story makes the sophistication that accompanies innovation just a little more tangible.
It reminded me of a 20th century story of innovation too. In Walter Isaacson’s biography of Steve Jobs, Isaacson reflects on a quote from the very first Apple brochure, “Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication,” and remarks, “Jobs had aimed for the simplicity that comes from conquering complexities, not ignoring them.
Sophisticated knowledge requires us to confront complexity too.
Now showing: “every utterance, every court filing, every public transaction, every burp, every miscue.”
In an interesting read, Jack Shafer wonders about the state of our politics “now that we have dirt on everyone.” While some debate the power of the Internet to democratize even the most authoritarian regimes, we should consider its role in making our politics dirtier than ever. Shafer describes the shift by comparing a campaign’s opposition research to mining for gold:
The past no longer matters to the political present the way it once did, because we have such better access to it today. Just 15 years ago, investigations of politicians and opposition research were largely limited to professionals with access to Lexis-Nexis or those who knew how to conduct a document search at the county courthouse. Digging dirt back then was like mining gold in the 1800s: labor intensive, and requiring both expertise and expensive tools. Widespread digitization and cheap information technologies haven’t eliminated the professionals from political dirt digging, only lowered the barriers to entry.
Leaping over those low barriers this cycle is Andrew Kaczynski, a 22-year-old history major at St. John’s University, who quarried C-SPAN archives for political gotchas and posted more than 160 of them on his YouTube channel, alerting the press to the best, he tells me.
It isn’t just the dirt. We’re also awash in data or dirt masquerading as data. The information costs of a wold-be knowledgeable citizen are skyrocketing!
David Weinberger takes on this question from a scientific perspective in a book with a great title, Too Big to Know: Rethinking Knowledge Now that the Facts Aren’t the Facts, Experts are Everywhere, and the Smartest Person in the Room is the Room. He points to a scientist’s lament from 1963. That scientist, Bernard K. Forscher, titled his famous letter “Chaos in the Brickyard” and complained that science was churning out too many bricks (facts) without the ability “to complete a useful edifice because, as soon as the foundations were discernible, they were buried under an avalanche of random bricks.” Weinberger explains the problem today is much larger than Forscher could have imagined. Our brickyards are networked!
He offers three reasons today’s brickyards are galactic in scope and they’re worth considering in the context of political dirt. I’ll list them here but recommend visiting Weinberger’s post on The Atlantic for a more detailed discussion.
For science, this means the data grows more and more distant from hypothesis-testing and model-building. Data is made accessible in the hope that someone will eventually make it usable. For political life, this creates a chasm between news that matters and news that’s entertaining. You want news you can use? Well, that’s your problem.
It’s easy to be overwhelmed while trying to sift through fact and fiction to find the information that makes a difference in vote choice, policy expectations or even the decision to get involved. If journalists once dug for gold to help their audiences navigate these turbulence, they’ve sacrificed that role as they’ve competed to throw bricks, to throw lots of them and to throw them before anyone else does.
A flurry of web activity demonstrates just how little help one can expect from the press. In a recent post to the New York Times Public Editor’s Journal, Arthur Brisbane asked, “should the Times be a truth vigilante?”
I’m looking for reader input on whether and when New York Times news reporters should challenge “facts” that are asserted by newsmakers they write about.”
The earliest comments on the site hit along the same theme… how could this even be a question? If the Times isn’t a truth vigilante, what else could it be? Perhaps our media outlets have considered themselves to be purveyors of petty insults and meaningless drivel this whole time. Jay Rosen, a NYU journalism professor, has relentlessly called out the media for their “view from nowhere” and offers an excellent analysis of this latest installment.
There are many reasons to expect this deluge of dirt and date to only get worse. I hope this all hits home the next time you see a headline lampooning what little information American voters know. Too many of us enjoy the chuckle and assure ourselves we’re different. There’s an important follow up questions we should require… how the hell are we supposed to know anything? And what news are we missing because this headline was funny?
*** A future post will look at how to ditch dumb headlines and demand better. If you have a strategy that works for you, please share it by commenting on this post.
There’s something about public art that gets to the heart of Politicolor’s project. When Carlos Collejo offered a tour of L.A. murals to our National Academy group in 2009, he explained the people and the art meet in the streets through these works of art. In the short video, “The Battle for LA’s Murals,” a muralist suggests museums are for dead people. While that might be a bit extreme, the art we saw on the mural tour was electrified with what a community aspired to and accomplished alongside the challenges they faced, the conflicts they still carried on their shoulders and their calls to a higher purpose.
Politics is inescapable. It’s embedded in every effort to understand who we are as a community, what we value and how we resolve conflict. L.A. muralists believe their work to represent their community is now challenged from two different directions with everyone claiming their right to free speech is in jeopardy.
I found this video through Open Culture so I’m going to recommend you visit their site for a bit of background on the conflict. I find it interesting that the muralists claim their work represents the community while graffiti artists only promote themselves. Graffiti has a long history associated with public protest, and I’m not interested in arguing that point here. The interesting part is that, in this assessment, the community outweighs the individual. This criticism is presented as everything you need to know to understand which work has value and which work doesn’t. These value judgments are tricky when you compare a real Rembrandt work to one from “the school of Rembrandt.” It might just be impossible when comparing museum pieces, public murals and graffiti.
What is informing the value we assign to L.A’s murals and their challengers: the city’s commercial ordinances and the local graffiti artists?
You can watch the video here:
Behind The Wall: The Battle for LA’s Murals from Oliver Riley-Smith on Vimeo.
Bonus Points: Open Culture is an excellent resource for free educational media on the web. They have a directory of free university course on the web, free ebooks, free videos, free language courses… you get the idea, right? If you’re not the type to keep up with a website through an RSS feed, you can “like” them on Facebook and pull their posts into your newsfeed. Super easy.
We are a people who need a frontier. Carl Sagan provided these words as he reflected on space exploration long before Atlantis launched into space for the last time.
You’ve seen these reflections on Politicolor through our imagined conversation between Cicero and astronaut Michael Collins. As Sagan notes in this video, the space program did not provide “bread on the table” results that changed our everyday. It’s value might be best understood in what it revealed about us and the human experience.
Click here to view the embedded video.
Shifting perspectives reveals as much about previous commitments as it does new ones. We do in fact have plenty of “housekeeping” to do a little closer to the surface of Earth. Do we necessarily have to neglect one or the other? Science dollars are scarce and pushing boundaries doesn’t always require rocket boosters. Another favorite web find last week was Radiolab’s show on “Talking to Machines.” The show focuses on the idea of artificial intelligence and includes interviews of “The Most Human Human” and the world’s most sentient robot. The universe of an individual’s experience and how that influences the way we relate to one another has proven difficult to program.
My favorite bit from the interview with the world’s most sentient robot:
Q: What does electricity taste like?
A: Like a planet around a star.
Nonsense and brilliant. What’s more interesting than the exchange itself is the quantity of data behind the responses, the algorithms that assess what will make a reliable answer, and the debate over what’s a valid question. Many humans approach chatbots with impossible questions like the one above. When is the last time you asked a colleague what electricity tasted like? Or what the letter M looks like upside down? Or if she has a soul? Perhaps being human is a perfectly banal proposition until we encounter these frontiers of physical space and human intelligence.
For more on this topic of what it means to be human, look to Brain Pickings which posted perspectives from an evolutionary biologist, a philosopher and a neuroscientist. The author wanted to better understand the whole of being human and the wholeness of humanity. Whether it’s a question we confront everyday or only on special occasions, our answer to what it means to be human influences much of what we do. Our struggle to bring order to political societies or even our local communities relies on this understanding of wholeness, of being human.
What then do our frontiers, the ones we pursue and the ones we abandon, reveal about who we are, how we think, and what we want for the future?
Eric Berlow is an ecologist and network scientist at the University o California who believes nature has something to teach us about problem solving. Nature shows that, with any problem, “the more you can zoom out and embrace complexity, the better chance you have of zooming in on the simple details that matter most.”
Eric turns to an infamous spaghetti diagram of the American strategy in Afghanistan to demonstrate his point. Is it possible to truly know anything without also knowing how it is interconnected to everything else? And isn’t that what we’d call constitutional thinking?
As you watch this 3 minute video, consider how Madison’s work on ancient and modern confederacies or the vices of the U.S. political system both represent similar exercise in understanding the nature of questions and answers through zooming in and zooming out.
Where are we from: Oregon or Ohio, Colorado or California..? Sue Leeson suggests the Madisonian perspective: We are from the United States.
A corollary arises for participants at this year’s James Madison and Constitutional Citizenship: Where are we constituted?
Surely, that’s the case for the Landmarks workshops: that a home, a monument, a farm, a harbor, creates such an impression on our consciousness that it changes our collective or individual conscience. These places can be more than just history; they may serve as a compass or a sundial. Or, as with Will at Montpelier, the cumulative experience can help us to generate ideas and activities which will propagate constitutional thinking.
As you continue to work with what you’ve gained, as you take it home to look at from all sides, please share your findings. Even Jemmy couldn’t fully realize his imagination until he let it out of the philosopher’s closet.
Feel free to become your own Publius and use this liberty for free exchange. (The site may ask for an email address, but it is never published or shared.)
Construct even just a line. Some of the most exciting posts have been nothing but a constitutional question; yet, through dialogue and response we’ve managed to propagate ideas and even strengthen a community of constitutional citizens.
Many in one. I hear it’s good for your manliness.
Like any great model, the strength of the politicolors pairs their simplicity with their potential for greater interpretation. The collective works of Theodore Geisel aka Dr. Seuss are just the same. In my second year of utilizing Professor Harris’s model, I coupled Seuss stories with each of the boxes.
I teach upper elementary students, but believe that great children’s literature contains the same room for re-discovery as any adult “classic.” What follows is a summary of some Seuss, supplemented with a flurry of outside resources which might add greatly to the discourse, no matter what age your group.
[Note: I taught the boxes in the order listed, spacing out the Seuss enough that the next story to appear became an exciting "reveal," rather than a mechanical happening. As of this post, we still hadn't gotten to Oh! The Places You'll Go!]
The Cat in the Hat Comes Back (Green Box). I chose this story, as most of the students have read the original. The plot remains essentially the same: Cat in said cap returns to unleash chaos upon (less?) trusting children. Green box discussions match nicely with the beginning of the year in which rules are established. Students easily grasp the notion of a state of nature and the importance of fencing off the “wilderness” in order to establish natural law.
Horton Hears a Who (Yellow Box). A classic tale of humanity that moves the reader beyond his/her own world (nationality, culture) and into the perspective of another. Excellent discussion can be generated by connecting this with current events such as the Tsunami in Japan.
The Sneetches and The Lorax (Orange Box). The civilization box is one I continue to explore. To me, an understanding of what it means to be civilized includes the control of our power. Whether the racism in Sneetches or the environmental havok in Lorax, there’s plenty of opportunity to debate what it means to be “civilized.”
How the Grinch Stole Christmas (Red Box). I’ve already written a post on this one
Yertle the Turtle (Blue Box). Among the shortest of any of these tales, it quickly gets across the point of a bad king. To explore the possibilities of a good king, this can be paired with The 500 Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins. The King in the latter is a bit more complex in that he offers many opportunities to stay BC’s execution; however, the threat of his sovereign power remains.
Oh! The Places You’ll Go! (Purple Box) A common gift for graduates, this story relates well the power of an individual as well as the pitfalls possible without self-discipline. There’s a strong federalist message here, with one’s personal constitution as GPS, hot-air balloon, row boat, or mountain-mover.
Additional Resources and Sample Activity:
GREEN BOX
Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak; Hatchet; My Side of the Mountain; The Black Stallion; Duke Theseus’ soliloquy on imagination from A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act 5, Scene 1, Lines 7-22; Emily Dickinson’s “I Hide Myself within My Flower” and “Will There Really Be a Morning?”; Carl Sandburg’s “Young Sea” and “Summer Stars”; Walt Whitman’s “I Hear America Singing”; Vachel Lindsay’s “The Rockets That Reached Saturn”; William Carlos Williams’ “Heel & Toe to the End”; Frost’s “On Looking up by Chance at the Constellations”; Gustav Holst’s “Jupiter”; David Bowie’s “Space Oddity,” Peter Schilling “Major Tom,” Handel’s “Scipio”; Selections from Cicero’s “The Dream of Scipio”; The Mayflower Compact
Activity: Draw an inverted triangle narrowing your location from broadest/ most general to narrowest/ most specific (Ex. Universe…1234 Schoolhouse Road); create a mandala circle with your personal relationships in proportion to you (circle center); use Google Earth
YELLOW BOX
The Stranger by Chris Van Allesburg; Sadako by Coerr and Young; The Cat Who Went to Heaven by Elizabeth Coatsworth; Star Wars trilogies; Jacques’ reflective soliloquy on life from As You Like It, Act II, Scene 7, Lines 139-166); Portia’s soliloquy on mercy from The Merchant of Venice, Act 4, Scene 1, Lines 182-195; Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken” and “A Time to Talk”; Emily Dickinson’s “I’m Nobody! Who Are You?”; Carl Sandburg’s “Phizzog”; BandAid’s “Do They Know It’s Christmas?” and a kajillion other 80s songs with human themes; Selections from Aristotle’s Politics
Activity: Contest to list most human emotions/ use “stick figures” to illustrate; what “new” emotion is created when anger gets crossed with sadness?; explore one emotion you have not yet felt (access compassion); connect with Needs of Humankind” “No (hu)man is an island.”
ORANGE BOX
King Henry’s stirring soliloquy from Henry V, Act 4, Scene 3, lines, 40-67; MacBeth‘s soliloquy in which he has murdered to become King, Act 5, Scene 5, Lines 19-28; Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s “Charge of the Light Brigade,” Langston Hughes’ “The Negro Speaks of Rivers,” “Dream Variations,” “I, Too,” “Words Like Freedom,” and “Mother to Son”; Carl Sandburg’s “A Sphinx,” “Skyscraper,” and “We Must Be Polite”; Rudyard Kipling’s “Prelude to Departmental Ditties,” “If,” “Thorkild’s Song,” “Natural Theology,” and “The Ballad of East and West”; Emma Lazarus’ “The New Colossus”; ee cummings’ “Portrait VIII”; Poe’s “Eldorado,” William Carlos Williams” “The Fool’s Song” and “The Problem”; reference Star Wars trilogies; excerpts from A Christmas Carol or other Dickens; Aesop’s Fables: “The Frog and the Ox,” “The Mice in Council,” “The Wind and the Sun,” “The Trees and the Axe,” “The Lion and the Other Beasts,” “The Fox and the Stork,” “The Fox and the Crow, “The Wolf and the Goat,” “The Boys and the Frogs,” “The Goose That Laid the Golden Eggs,” “The Monkey and the Dolphin,” “The Travellers and the Bear,” “The Kite, the Hawk, and the Pigeons,” “The Boy Who Cried Wolf,” and “The Gnat and the Lion”; mythology; Arrow to the Sun by McDermott; just about anything by Robert Browning; selections from the works of George Orwell, Mohandas Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Rachel Carson, Henry David Thoreau, and Margaret Mead; video games such as Sims or 1602; “Manifest Destiny”; WtP (middle school) selection: Tragedy of Antigone; WtP (elementary): Two Years Before the Mast; What happens to social acceptance when other cultures are enmeshed? What is the role of the layers below: Humanity? Natural rights? What if the orange box grows? What if it shrinks?
Activity: Trace the history of an invention to the notion of “standing on the shoulders of giants”, explore resources and the ways in which these are harvested and the human resources behind them; contrast locally-grown with industrial product.
RED BOX
Angelou’s “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings”; Langston Hughes’ “My People”; Sojourner Truth’s “Ain’t I a Woman?”; selections from Sherman Alexie; selections from Will Rogers; Walt Whitman’s “O Captain! My Captain!”; Civil War as “house divided”; Who has been disenfranchised from our people?; What does it mean to be Vietnamese, Iraqi, British, Japanese? Who are these peoples?; Who are Native Americans? The Girl Who Loved Wild Horses by Goble; Revisit Mayflower Compact; Declaration of Independence; When did we become a people?/ How are we still becoming a people?; connect with Needs of Humankind; Shays’ Rebellion; Can a people coexist without a shared view of civilization? Humanity? Natural rights?; Through My Eyes by Ruby Bridges; Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Goin On?”; Bruce Hornsby’s “The Way It Is”; Bob Dylan’s “Blowin’ in the Wind”; Neil Young’s “Keep on Rockin’ in the Free World” (maturity dependent); Simon & Garfunkel’s “America”; Spinal Tap’s “America”; Arlen & Harburg’s “Over the Rainbow”; Williams’ “Rainbow Connection” (I like the Me First and the Gimme Gimmes’ version.); National Anthem; Bernstein & Sondheim’s “America” (West Side Story); music as very powerful connection to red box stuff
Activity: Find a song that represents “the people”; bring a copy of the song and printed lyrics; be prepared to explain your interpretation
BLUE BOX
Selections from “The Masque of the Red Death”; Articles of Confederation; selections from Notes on the Debates of the Federal Convention; Kipling’s “The King’s Job”; Milne’s “The King’s Breakfast”; Shelley’s “Ozymandias”; Andersen and Zwerger’s The Nightingale; Tennyson’s “On the Jubilee of Queen Victoria”; selections from various British musical acts, maturity dependent (The Who, The Beatles, The Housemartins, The Clash, etc.)
Activity: Invent a card game using the royalty cards to show what you’ve learned about monarchy.
PURPLE BOX
Harold and the Purple Crayon by Crockett Johnson; Langston Hughes’ “Youth”; Claude McKay’s “America”; Henry Van Dyke’s “America for Me”; U.S. Constitution; Emily Dickinson’s “Revolution is the Pod”; Guthrie’s “This Land Is Your Land”/ Springsteen’s live version
Activity: Write a constitution of self; “mail it” to yourself one-year from today (delivered by teacher); how have you amended yourself/ how have you remained?