E Pluribus Unum?

I’m keenly interested in how people of different political, cultural, and religious points of view relate one to another.

I first became interested in how people deal with those whose politics are radically different than their own as a high school social studies teacher leading discussions about contemporary issues. I quickly learned to play the “devil’s advocate” since some of my students were right or left-wing ideologues whose positions were highly predictable.

Also, I’ve been fortunate to have two friends whose worldviews are very different than my own. In contrast to most people who tend to keep the peace by avoiding talking about subjects related to politics, religion, race, and sexual orientation, we tackle them head-on.

In the last few years the church my family attends have added two new pastors for two that left. They’ve taken a moderate, fairly apolitical church considerably to the left in a few ways including a gay and lesbian friendly “welcoming statement” and by embracing evolution.

Here’s an excerpt from the “Clergy Letter Project” that was read Sunday. “We believe that the theory of evolution is a foundational scientific truth, one that has stood up to rigorous scrutiny and upon which much of human knowledge and achievement rests. To reject this truth or to treat it as ‘one theory’ among others’ is to deliberately embrace scientific ignorance and transmit such ignorance to our children. . . We ask school board members to preserve the integrity of science curriculum by affirming the teaching of the theory of evolution as a core component of human knowledge.”

I like the pastors and  strongly support the stands they’re taking, but I’m intrigued by how little effort they seem to be making to retain conservative members. Attendance is down a bit, so I assume some have left. My guess is there will be liberal replacements in the months ahead. In a year’s time I expect us to have the same size church, but we’ll be much more homogeneous.

Consequently, the church may lose some of it’s distinctiveness and potential to model the Kingdom of God on earth. Given the choice, people already tend to socialize with, live next to, work with, and recreate with like-minded people. If truly committed to following Christ’s example, it seems as if the church would be a counter-cultural institution, one where people’s faith trumps political differences.

And not one where political differences are swept under the rug, but where people commit to conversation and learn how to agree to disagree when necessary about things like gay rights, the causes of global warming, and the death penalty, all in the interest of modeling “another way”.

Am I too idealistic to think this is possible? The cynic in me can’t help but notice our church, like many, has two services, one formal with hymns and a traditional liturgy, and a hymn-free, informal “contemporary” one. The nucleus divides again.

In the end, will the small corner of the world that is Olympia, Washington end up more religiously, socially, culturally, and politically fragmented?

SuperBowl Edition

Secular holiday Sunday. I’m down with it, but for the love of all things non-material, please kill the Pro Bowl and return to the original one week between conference finals and kickoff.

I was pleasantly surprised to see a Peyton Manning essay by Stefan Fatsis on Slate.com Friday. I’ve enjoyed listening to Fatsis, a sports business analyst/writer on National Public Radio over the last few years. He also writes for the Wall Street Journal. Smart, fast-talker, good insights. He lets his hair down a little in the Manning piece.

Fatsis’ piece brought to mind lots of things including what a curse perfectionism is for those encumbered by it. Perfectionists can’t help but project their unusually high and often unrealistic expectations onto others which subjects them to perpetual frustration. Others can’t measure up.

When I finished writing my lengthy self-assessment for promotion recently, I felt a real sense of accomplishment, but not in the way you might expect. Here’s the truth of the matter. I could be a better teacher, scholar, and university citizen (the shorthand term for service). And I could be a better husband, father, son, brother, and friend. And I could be a better triathlete and blogger. And I could read more fiction, keep the gutters cleaner, and manage my time better.

My sense of accomplishment comes from fulfilling a wide range of roles as well as possible. I’m never going to win an MVP (most valuable professor) award or the Hawaii Ironman and I don’t anticipate, fourteen, seventeen, and forty-nine (yikes, did I just out the gal pal as not young, more evidence I fall short as a husband) ever teaming up on a sculpture in honor of me (my birthday is fast approaching though).

I choose to live a more balanced life than Manning, that doesn’t make me better, just different. Would I like to play in the Super Bowl*, of course, but I would not have traded the breadth of life experience I’ve enjoyed for that type of single-minded success.

At times, I wonder if I use the “balance” argument as an excuse for not pursuing excellence in a particular area for a particular time. Do I opt for success out of fear of Success? I wonder, maybe I should dedicate myself to excellence in one role, whether to write a book, race an Ironman well, or become the man my dog thinks I am—for a period of time. It’s very hard for me to accept doing some things poorly in order to do one thing especially well.

I expect the Colts to win, but I’ll be pulling for the Saints. And if the Saints pull the upset, I’ll be watching for Peyton to blow.

* I realized my football career was pointless in eighth grade when I was a bad-ass (a legend in my own mind) cornerback for the Lexington Lions. Screen pass to the other team’s stud who looked like it was his third go-round in eighth grade. Someone missed their assignment and I was unblocked. Closed the eyes, wrapped, wrapped, uh, wiffed. Started playing more golf at that point!

Shortcut-mania

Spent Saturday at the King County Acquatic Center in Federal Way (the “KCAC” if you’re cool) watching the State YMCA Championship swim meet with over four hundred competitors. Fourteen’s swimming career began last August at the start of high school. She decided to swim because she recognized she wasn’t lighting the soccer world on fire, her parents encouraged it, her older sissy was a co-captain, and she thought it would be a good way to make friends.

The season exceeded her expectations in part because she improved a lot, a result of swimming five times a week and improving her technique. Dropping time is fun. Now though she’s an intermediate swimmer and dropping time is considerably harder. And swimming isn’t as fun. Saturday she swam more slowly than she had hoped. There had to be an explanation she thought. “Was the pool meters?”

The great thing about competitive swimming is there’s an almost perfect correlation between one’s training, pre-race prep, and race day performance. Fourteen misinterpreted her results on Saturday. Her conclusion, “I didn’t race very well. Just didn’t have a good day. Maybe I’m not as good as I thought.” The truth of the matter is she hasn’t been training consistently and intensely enough to swim any faster. It doesn’t matter if you have the perfect track on on your iPod pre-race and are completely amped, race day is simply a barometer of the quality of your training. The question is have you put in the time, have you done the work?

Aren’t we all like Fourteen? We often want to see improvement in some aspect of our lives without investing much time and energy in whatever it is? For example, recently I’ve read some extremely successful blogs that generate one hundred plus comments per post. When I do this I don’t think about how much time those bloggers spend on their blogs, I just say to myself, self, “You should have a blog like that.”

One’s blog readership and juice is almost exclusively a barometer of time and energy invested. The blogosphere is a meritocracy.

So the question for Fourteen, me, and maybe you, is how badly do we want to swim fast, have a widely read blog, get out of debt, lose weight, make a relationship work? Fourteen has other priorities like school and I have a day job. She swims and I blog “on the side” or maybe the “side of the side”. Maybe you try to reduce spending, save money, eat more healthily, exercise more consistently, and spend quality time with your partner “on the side”.

The challenge is being honest with ourselves about what’s most important. In the meantime, we shouldn’t be surprised by the meager results of our sporadic, abbreviated labors.

Democracy and Design

According to Timothy Egan (writing on his NYT blog), Amazon sold more electronic than hardcopy books during the Christmas season. He goes on to predict that the iPad and other electronic readers will accelerate the closing of brick and mortar bookstores. He writes, “. . . if Denver were to lose Tattered Cover, or Portland lose Powell’s, or Washington, D.C., lose Politics and Prose, it would be like ripping one lung from a healthy body. These stores are cultural centers, shared living rooms; no virtual community on the Web, or even a well-run library, can replace them.”

I agree. I suspect those specific stores will be anomalies, they’ll survive over the medium-term at least as a result of their loyal followings, extensive inventories, and exceptional customer service. The question though is what becomes of the small and medium sized independents who can’t compete on price and don’t have the history or momentum of a Tattered Cover, Powell’s, and Politics and Prose? I hope I’m wrong, but I expect them to go out of business. Does it matter? Is it just creative destruction, a shifting of economic tectonic plates, an inevitable byproduct of free-market capitalism?

Of course, from the perspective of bookstore owners, employees, and loyal customers, it matters. But what about from a socio-political perspective?

Social scientists are telling us what seems intuitive, we’re growing more and more ideologically segregated. I tend to listen to public radio and watch public television, with some Jon Stewart, Rachel Maddow, and Keith Olberman (in very small doses) mixed in. My right wing friends listen to Rush Limbaugh and Glenn Beck and watch Fox News almost exclusively. Plus, nearly everyone is plugged in to their personal iPods and smartphones making spontaneous conversations with people all but impossible.

Among other things, a vibrant democracy depends on civil discourse, or put more simply, people with differing opinions talking directly to one another. If not at bookstore cafes, or in book discussion groups, or during book reading Q&A’s, when do people truly engage with those who think differently than them? I’ve expressed my opinion before that women are better than men at making time for tea, conversation, and one another. For example, my better half and her friends, “The Clatch”, meet every few months at one of their houses. But I’m only giving them partial credit because they’re all left-of-center libs who think more alike than different.

What becomes of the listening, thinking, communicating, and problem solving skills of people who very rarely engage in civil discourse? For an answer, look at Congress.

Egan’s insight got me thinking about design. Are architects factoring socio-political variables like I’m describing into their designs. And if so, how? How do we design cities or redesign existing ones so that there are inviting public places where diverse people—culturally, economically, ideologically, religiously—are in the same place at the same time?

Rollercoaster

Teaching high school taught me that adolescents can be living, breathing rollercoasters, up one day, down the next. After awhile, I learned not to take the inevitable dips personally.

Which takes us to the other day and my facebooking seventeen year old. “Why are you trying to talk to me?” she asked staring at her laptop. My bad, I’m an awful dad for being interested in last night’s field trip to Seattle.

Fast forward a day. . . the rollercoaster standing in the kitchen, studying page four of my Tacoma Broadway Center for the Performing Arts pamphlet. Gaelic Storm.

I throw caution to the wind. “Wanna go?” “Yeah!”

Surprisingly, she doesn’t get any better offers during the week.

We hit traffic, arrive five minutes late, run through downtown T-town together, and buy two of the last tics.

For the next three hours nagging, tension, and adolescent angst were replaced with clapping, laughing, and singing. Irish music has always moved me in inexplicable ways and seventeen is a talented violinist on a piano playing tear. She was transfixed by Jesse Burns the group’s fiddler who shredded from beginning to end.

Wonderful concert made better by the company.

A Passport and Library Card

This post is only for men under 35, and my brother, “Mother’s Favorite”. If you don’t fall within that demographic, stop reading.

Yes, a happy wife equals a happy life, but what if  you’re single? Singleness is cool, but if you want to marry, get a passport and a library card. Traveling abroad and reading are probably optional. More advice here.

The Year That Was—2009

Swimming—283.5k—88h (time estimate). All-time high. Most memorable swim(s), Haag Lake 2k and 4k.

Cycling—4,163m—238h (time estimate). All-time high. Most memorable ride, late summer Carpenter Loop club training ride, bridged to Wentz, solo break, exchanged blows with Lance. Cutter pride.

Running—1,255m—162h (time estimate). Lowest total since 2000. Most memorable run, tie, Oly Half with the principal and mid-November 12m Seattle Half Marathon training run with very hard final four.

Year went almost exactly as planned. Before it began, I decided to turn up the S and C dials and turn down the R. After a calf problem in January, I was fortunate to be injury free. Also very fortunate to have such great training partners.

S/C/R total=swimming miles x 4 + run miles + cycling ÷ 4=3,000. 2nd highest total ever (2005, 3,225, sabbatical/two marathons). I haven’t planned 2010 out as carefully as normal. Hope to swim about the same amount, cycle a bit more, and run about the same distance.

Daylight Savings countdown, 68 days.

Backyard, mid-fall. Credit, the wife.

Andre Agassi

Thoroughly, thoroughly enjoyed Agassi’s autobio on a lot of different levels. Here’s my blurb Double A didn’t ask for. “As riveting and provocative a parenting/psychology/media studies/sports studies case study as you’ll read for a long, long time.”

Got into one of those grooves where it was very hard to put down. I like tennis and could have been decent if I was quicker, had a better backhand, could get my first serve in, and had a second serve.

I followed it more closely when Agassi, Courier, Chang, and Sampras were kicking ass nearly every weekend. Now I get excited about Federer and Nadal a few times a year.

It was fascinating to “relive” the era from Agassi’s perspective and reflect on how easy it is to misinterpret things through media lenses. Agassi was greatly misunderstood by everyone outside his inner circle.

That realization was a reminder that people’s questionable actions often make sense when we truly understand the context of their lives. The media loved to rip Agassi for not always playing up to his potential and symbolizing style over substance, but his erratic play and behavior made sense in the context of his two decade long identity crisis. And his identity crisis made sense in the context of his dad’s and Nick Bollettieri’s oppressive parenting and coaching.

My daughter didn’t understand how he ended up being thoughtful and intelligent when he left school in the eighth grade which led to a nice talk about the difference between schooling and education.

People who are not tennis fans will still find it a worthwhile read, but they may end up skimming the 10% or so where Agassi does color commentary on his own most consequential matches.

In the end, Agassi was imminently likable which only added to the overall enjoyment. Here’s hoping Stefanie, his children and him live happily ever after.

Eastward Ho

Conventional wisdom suggests we should be planning for the year ahead writing down specific, measurable personal finance, family, health, intellectual, work, service, spiritual goals. Fools don’t plan to fail, they fail to plan.

I’m just not feelin’ it.

Instead, I’m at a point in my life where positive processes hold more allure than specific, measurable goals. Rather than focus on tangible products, I want to tweak my already healthy daily routines that create positive momentum in my life.

If I remember to whom much is given much is required, spend an hour or two a day moving, save more than I spend, read and write regularly, pay attention to my wife and daughters, and do right by my friends, students, and co-workers, 2010 will turn out well.

Story of the Week—Close to Home

By John Brant. November’s Runner’s World. Exuberant elite runner gets hit by a car near the end of a training run. Fortunate to live, but quality of life radically altered.

An excerpt:

Jenny’s need for therapy far exceeds the funds available for it. Her recovery, moreover, has been slow and undramatic, and the family understands that the public’s interest will dwindle as time passes. “Jenny hasn’t made the big jump,” Peter acknowledges. “There is no feel-good hook to her story. Brain injuries need time. Long-term, it would be great to see her speaking for herself and telling her story in public. I think she would make an ideal spokesperson for understanding brain injuries.”

In the meantime, which might stretch indefinitely, Jenny’s family and friends make a point of living in the present. They rarely give way to exhaustion, or indulge in self-pity. “People assume that I must be angry,” Peter says. “They tell me, ‘You must be furious that one moment two years ago has led to all this misery, and messed up your sister’s life—and your life—forever.’ But I can honestly say that I don’t feel that way. I can’t afford to get angry because I’m too busy trying to figure my way through each day.”

Thanks to John Brant I regained some perspective as I read this story while cycling indoors M morning. Most writers would have tried to turn Jenny’s story into another feel-good redemption story. Brant’s approach works so well because it’s purposefully not beautifully written. He does not draw attention to himself, but keeps the focus on Jenny and her hardships, where it belongs.

Sunday/Monday I was beginning to feel sorry for myself for being behind on tasks, having too much to do, and not feeling much support. Brant, through his telling of Crain’s story, shook me out of my self-centeredness and helped me appreciate the tasks I’m behind on, the opportunities my work affords me, and the solid support I enjoy.

A month ago, a trooper friend and training partner got on some of us for running too cavalierly on the road. He was right, we have to be more careful. Any cyclist enthusiast knows someone who has been hit by a car. Some bounce back, but many are never the same, and too many die. Runners are at less risk, but as Jenny’s tragic story illustrates, no one can control for careless or reckless drivers.

As this year of cycling and running next to cars comes to end, I’m thankful to have remained upright. I appreciate my health, my family, my friends, my work, and I look forward to riding and running similar distances in 2010.

God willing that is.