Another Technology Post

While writing a paper about hypocrisy in politics, I came across a blog post review of Political hypocrisy: the mask of power, from Hobbes to Orwell and beyond By David Runciman. I then searched for the book (which is checked out) on my library's website, then accessed it via the electronic portal. I can now read the entire book online, at no cost to me, about 1 minute after finding out it exists.

Without getting up from my carrel. Whoa.

Storytime

A reprint from 18 months ago, as I prepare to speak tomorrow....

The founders of Storytime [09s] are soon to graduate, and though heaps of accolades have already been given to them, especially in the form of the Grosvenor Memorial Cup. However, I think readers near and far should know about the scope of Storytime's achievement.

I and others here sometimes speak of the legendary "Williams Woman" or "Williams Man." This person is a true polymath - he or she excels physically through WOC or a varsity athletic team, artistically expresses him or herself through music, theater, or visual art, and carries a high GPA on the side, while maintaining close friendships and near universal respect. WEPO, JAing, or other campus honors are also the norm for this person. This ideal Eph is created, I think, through an amalgamation of various respected students on campus who have excelled in some of these areas, though not all. This legend is the yardstick that I sometimes compare myself too, enabled by a few real seniors who do seem to excel in all areas.

This myth of "effortless perfection" has been the subject of studies, Gargoyle conversations, and presentations across campus, some before my own time. I'm curious to see if it was around in the days of some of the alum on this blog.

Nevertheless, the myth is alive and well today, with one exception. Storytime is one moment when hierarchy disintegrates: there is only a speaker and an audience, with a facilitator who makes any needed announcements, such as the name of the cookies going around (Tonight: Chex Mix w/ chocolate, peanut butter, and something else)

Like any good tale, such stories usually involve some combination of hardship, trial, and conflict, often along with redemption in the form of loving friends or mentors. But they are always profound - Storytime has become a place to share the history that has shaped a person's character. I often hear of invitations to Storytime by speakers to their friends, who have often heard nothing or a small piece of the deep and powerful narrative of the speaker's experience until that night, along with a group of utter strangers entrusted with the same secrets. It is a place of vulnerability, bound by an unwritten covenant of shared support. I am almost always left discovering something about myself in hearing about others; sometimes realizing a blessing that had gone unnoticed earlier in life, or a hidden value in common experience that I had not yet seen.

But mostly, I hear about times when some of the people I looked up to most had the deepest troubles - the facade is pulled away, and we see each other as we see ourselves - as flawed creatures simply trying to do the best with what we have in life. Storytime is a place of common comfort - where a crowd can support the speaker, and the speaker support the crowd. My life at Williams is better for those gatherings at 9 in Henze lounge, and I look forward to the last of the semester and the other stories in years to come.

On the leaked cables

In response to a request for comment on Facebook:

The leak is bad, for the same reason the Presidential Records Act is bad, as currently written and construed, because it doesn't change the thoughts, opinions, or actions of those who write cables, but DOES change what gets written down.

The Obama Team thrives before entering the White House on Instant Messaging - now, since all communications must be archived, they must rely on face-to-face conversations, which causes inefficiency, among other problems. In the same way, the leak of these cables will cause inefficiency in three ways.

First, diplomatic cables will irrevocably be written with a fear of possible public consumption, meaning that true nuance will be sacrificed for political considerations, and that those writing them will have to use language that is less explosive when explosive language is required. Second, the leaks will cause more reports to go back to the State Department in verbal phone calls, or at levels of classification (Top Secret) that aren't fitting of the situation. This, and most worrying, is that this will make it harder for someone in Uzbekistan to look up State Dept info on another country that's relevant to his work in Uzbekistan - we need information to be able to flow freely in the classified system, and because of this leak, it won't flow nearly as freely.

As for the content, I find them interesting, but there are no revelations that justify the problems caused by the release - most all of this stuff was easily guessed without official confirmation, and the private stances of foreign officials are PRIVATE for a reason - making them public won't change their public stances at all.

Deathly Hallows

Just saw HP7. The short version:

• Still annoyed by depictions of magic/flying.
• Much more satisfied by acting job of the trio.
• Still hating the writing. 
• In love with the music, especially the credits song (what is it?)

But the movie's tone got to me. I remember, sharply, a moment when I was 17 and realized that I was the same age as Harry during the last days of Book 7 (which hadn't come out yet). I realized I was the same age as the protagonist, and sharply didn't feel ready to confront the ultimate force of evil in the world. At the same time, I wish there was some ultimate evil, because that would allow me a clear enemy to pursue and defeat. I remember agonizing during Order of the Phoenix, as I knew exactly how I would have fooled Dolores Umbridge, and I'd like to think I'd have been a decent anti-Voldemort strategist.

But I could have been no Snape, and ultimately, Snape was the hero of this story: Harry's path was clear and shining; he ultimately realized he had no choice but to die and chose it; Snape had every choice but near certain death and yet stayed the course. That makes him the true hero of the series, and I will never be Snape, or LBJ, who came out of the South to pursue Civil Rights, or FDR, who manipulated unemployment to bottom out right before his inauguration.

At this point I'm rambling, something frequent on this blog, but my ultimate point is that Harry is a reminder of a simpler world: one where enemies are clear. Our world is less so: if our goal is happiness, the methods of achieving it are vague. We can only hope to follow the ideas that we set in our souls, and trust in providence for the rest.

Why I'm in RASAN

Non-Williams readers: RASAN = Rape and Sexual Assault Network, a campus hotline and group that supports studentsand promotes consent in hooking up.

For a while, I was the only male who showed up to RASAN meetings, making me the "man of the year" on our hotline calling schedule. I sometimes rationalized reasons for my presence - that being there would raise my credibility when helping friends after uncomfortable hookups, that I was honoring a friend who was going through a rough time, or the rather favorable gender balance in the room vis a vis dating.

Let's unpack that last one for a moment. I rationalized my participation in a group that primarily deals with helping women after bad experiences (some of which constitute rape/sexual assault, and some of which don't) by claiming a desire to use my status in RASAN to hookup with my fellow hotline members. The problem is that none of the above are true: I've never crushed on any of the wonderful ladies in RASAN, though many of them have my highest respect (ES, ES, MK, BB, CS, BN, etc.; y'all know who you are), but I still felt like I had to pretend I was interested in someone in order to "defend" my RASAN membership.

I also am not in RASAN in order to gain credibility with friends, or to honor someone else not on campus. I'm in RASAN because of a moment that happened when I was around 16. I was talking with a group of guys I knew outside of school, and one was talking about his life at a nearby Catholic School. He talked about walking around in the halls during crowded class changes, and how he would take his hand and reach down and under a girl to grab her as she walked by, honest-to-God sexual assault that he could get away with because of the crowded, moving hall. The other guys in the group laughed and approved, though I could tell some of them weren't completely comfortable, but no one challenged him that it wasn't cool to "grab p****" in his high school's hallway. I didn't challenge him; I just kept quiet about his comment since I didn't want to cause drama.

That single comment and its reaction are why I joined RASAN. The stories I heard at Take Back the Night are why I will always support such groups. the admiration I have for women I KNOW to have shared their stories with a group of partial strangers is boundless, and I am now convinced that I know many, many more people who have been assaulted. Joining RASAN is how I can be their ally, even as I walk around ignorant of their stories.

It also means that I care about posts like this one, and will do my best to change male norms, even as I'd bet that people who know I'm in RASAN might alter their language around me. You should consider joining as well.

Choosing Courses for the Last Time

It's hard.

I want to take about 10 different ones, but 2 of my 4 are already filled slots. I think the last ones will go to MATH and CSCI, but if I go with a SOC or ARAB course instead of the CSCI then my schedule is more symmetrical.

Why do such trivialities matter? I've learned that the MoE of expected course benefits is huge, and its better to structure a strong schedule than to sacrifice that in favor of marginally better sounding classes that might easily not be so.

Oh, and there's a tutorial as well.

Aaaaargh.

A comment elsewhere

One of the first things I learned when working in Washington my sophomore year is that I couldn't understand what it was like to be a minority until I was one. I lived in a majority-black neighborhood, and was the only white on my bus until we crossed the Potomac. (I also dealt with the poor infrastructure of DC every day, with roads so clogged I could often get out of one bus and walk down the street for 15 minutes to catch the one ahead.)

But in any case, there was something unique in walking every day to the bus knowing that I would be the only white person at the stop, and something unique feeling "different" each day in that bus. But that was an hour-long commute each day, and the moment I got to Eastern Market in DC, other white people appeared everywhere.

My point is that I noticed it - it was a part of my experience - and that I could not have understood that feeling from a description, because it was new. I am sure that if I felt something for an hour a day on a bus, that black Williams students feel something 24/7 on campus, where they are often the only black students in a room or around a table.

But I can't tell you what that is, because I'm not a 11% minority here. I can't understand or really describe to you what it feels like to be black, and why my classmates can get so fed up with Williams that they head back to the BSU to regroup. I don't understand, and I can't help you to understand.

So to your question:

I don't know. My guess is yes, but not having been in that situation, I can't tell you, because I know how hard it is to communicate that sort of feeling from my experiences elsewhere. There are black students at Williams who do fine, and black students that do not.

But let's take a look at the historic policies. We know that blacks in this country (and especially in my native south) suffered discrimination through Brown vs. Board and for some years thereafter. We also know that blacks were denied many of the benefits of the G.I. Bill, and I have heard other students state (but haven't looked at the sourcing myself) that national policies were destructive to the black family in the 50s and 60s. Those were our parents.

The result today is that where I went to school in Decatur, there were three black and four white elementary schools, which some black kids were bused to. The black schools had chronic issues and two were closed down during consolidation. The white schools became the administrative offices, the 4/5 academy, and two others remained open as elementary schools.

In my school system, blacks were generally not prepared at the same level as whites, with an "achievement gap" that started at birth. This meant that the Honors and AP classes at my high school were accordingly white dominated. The best and brightest blacks from my school, who took AP Calculus, went to Florida State.

Williams has a hard time finding qualified minorities because of the structural achievement gap. Part of that gap's effect is cultural - blacks who studied in my school were called "oreos" and often bullied. I never had to deal with that. Additionally, the public schools I went to were improved if you could eat breakfast at home and had a good dinner ready, something many blacks didn't have because of the different socio-economics. So there's a mixture of factors, some of them tied to money, and others tied to skin, that work against black students.

I would argue that the issues about money and class are more problematic, because blacks of means can find private environments for their children to learn, but both are aspects that would have made my life more difficult in Decatur had I been black. Not because Decatur was a bad school district - indeed, its one of the best - but because of a wide variety of factors that made stereotypes into reality within my high school's cafeteria.

So when you take the top 1% of white students and the top 1% of black students, they are probably going to look different. Add various factors that make being aware of one's blackness a liability in standardized testing and you make that 1% look worse than it relatively should.

One of the problems with our current policies (we being society) is that we pluck out that top 1% or 5% of minorty populations, and provide lots of resources - the national achievement scholarship for one - but there are two structural issues here. First, when you take that top percentage out, you are ignoring the greater mass, which is where the momentum needs to be shifted. Second, when you create special programs, you give an implicit message that "you aren't good enough for the *real* program so we have this special one." That doesn't mean such programs are bad, but rather that there is no perfect bullet to resolving the legacy of discrimination that my homestate and others unleashed on minorities.

So when a black student comes to Williams, I'm willing to state that they run a risk of being less prepared. Their school might not have had the same high standards; other factors can underlie this issue. But Williams throws them in, having recruited them, and expects them to sink or swim in a brand-new environment where they are, often for the first time, a minority. Unsurprisingly, it can be difficult, and they might have a lower GPA their freshman year.

I know this narrative because it also applies to me. Deprived of my friend group, I languished a bit in my freshman fall, and my freshman GPA was significantly lower than my other years at Williams. That one year can doom you from achieving PBK when going against others who walk into Williams intending Med School or Grad school.

So yes, I think there are issues at Williams that relate to people's backgrounds, and please note that the issues raised in Stand With Us aren't even a piece of this post. I'm only telling part of the story, whatever it is. There are issues relating to class (poor white kids are very underrepresented here relative to the country), and issues relating to race. Both are not positive, and Williams isn't on top of these issues yet.

Stewart's Closing Words

Because I don't think he'll mind my appropiating them to this blog:

And now I thought we might have a moment, however brief, for some sincerity. If that's okay - I know that there are boundaries for a comedian / pundit / talker guy, and I'm sure that I'll find out tomorrow how I have violated them.

So, uh, what exactly was this? I can't control what people think this was: I can only tell you my intentions.

This was not a rally to ridicule people of faith, or people of activism, or look down our noses at the heartland, or passionate argument, or to suggest that times are not difficult and that we have nothing to fear--they are, and we do.

But we live now in hard times, not end times. And we can have animus, and not be enemies. But unfortunately, one of our main tools in delineating the two broke.

The country's 24-hour, political pundit perpetual panic conflictinator did not cause our problems, but its existence makes solving them that much harder. The press can hold its magnifying glass up to our problems, bringing them into focus, illuminating issues heretofore unseen. Or they can use that magnifying glass to light ants on fire, and then perhaps host a week of shows on the dangerous, unexpected flaming ants epidemic. If we amplify everything, we hear nothing.

There are terrorists, and racists, and Stalinists, and theocrats, but those are titles that must be earned! You must have the resume! Not being able to distinguish between real racists and Tea Party-ers, or real bigots and Juan Williams or Rick Sanchez is an insult--not only to those people, but to the racists themselves, who have put in the exhausting effort it takes to hate. Just as the inability to distinguish terrorists from Muslims makes us less safe, not more.

The press is our immune system. If it overreacts to everything, we actually get sicker--and, perhaps, eczema. And yet... I feel good. Strangely, calmly, good. Because the image of Americans that is reflected back to us by our political and media process is false. It is us, through a funhouse mirror--and not the good kind that makes you look slim in the waist, and maybe taller, but the kind where you have a giant forehead, and an ass shaped like a month-old pumpkin, and one eyeball.

So why would we work together? Why would you reach across the aisle, to a pumpkin-assed forehead eyeball monster? If the picture of us were true, of course our inability to solve problems would actually be quite sane and reasonable--why would you work with Marxists actively subverting our Constitution, and homophobes who see no one's humanity but their own?

We hear every damned day about how fragile our country is, on the brink of catastrophe, torn by polarizing hate, and how it's a shame that we can't work together to get things done. The truth is, we do! We work together to get things done every damned day! The only place we don't is here (in Washington) or on cable TV!

But Americans don't live here, or on cable TV. Where we live, our values and principles form the foundation that sustains us while we get things done--not the barriers that prevent us from getting things done.

Most Americans don't live their lives solely as Democrats, Republicans, liberals or conservatives. Americans live their lives more as people that are just a little bit late for something they have to do. Often something they do not want to do! But they do it. Impossible things, every day, that are only made possible through the little, reasonable compromises we all make.

(Points to video screen, showing video of cars in traffic.) Look on the screen. This is where we are, this is who we are. These cars. That's a schoolteacher who probably think his taxes are too high, he's going to work. There's another car, a woman with two small kids, can't really think about anything else right now... A lady's in the NRA, loves Oprah. There's another car, an investment banker, gay, also likes Oprah. Another car's a Latino carpenter; another car, a fundamentalist vacuum salesman. Atheist obstetrician. Mormon Jay-Z fan.

But this is us. Every one of the cars that you see is filled with individuals of strong belief, and principles they hold dear--often principles and beliefs in direct opposition to their fellow travelers'. And yet, these millions of cars must somehow find a way to squeeze, one by one, into a mile-long, 30-foot-wide tunnel, carved underneath a mighty river.

And they do it, concession by concession: you go, then I'll go. You go, then I'll go. You go, then I'll go. 'Oh my God--is that an NRA sticker on your car?' 'Is that an Obama sticker on your car?' It's okay--you go, then I go.

And sure, at some point, there will be a selfish jerk who zips up the shoulder, and cuts in at the last minute. But that individual is rare, and he is scorned, and he is not hired as an analyst!

Because we know, instinctively, as a people, that if we are to get through the darkness and back into the light, we have to work together. And the truth is there will always be darkness, and sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel isn't the promised land.

Sometimes, it's just New Jersey.

But we do it anyway, together. If you want to know why I’m here and what I want from you, I can only assure you this: you have already given it to me. Your presence was what I wanted. Sanity will always be and has always been in the eye of the beholder. And to see you here today and the kind of people that you are has restored mine. Thank you.”

Why the Rally Matters

Talking to a friend this evening, I mentioned my glee that the Rally to Restore Sanity (and/or Fear) drew over 250,000 people. Her question: why are you so pleased? For a moment, I was stumped. Why this number, so large it's not possible to really comprehend how many people were there.

But here's why. For many Americans, Election Day is the extent of their involvement with politics. Yes, they get robocalls, and yes, they see political ads, but these are actions of consumers, not participants. To be involved, they vote, and this is enough for many. The problem is that voting (and the sampling that tries to predict it) doesn't do enough.

Polling and voting tell us preferences for or against a given person on a given day under certain conditions, one reason why there can be large swings between polls and results. People's thoughts at home can differ from their thoughts in a voting booth, and their thoughts in a voting booth can differ from their intentions and actions outside of the booth.

In short, voting is an imperfect way of expressing our thoughts, especially given how buggy our voting system is, and accordingly, I think many elites don't care too much about votes as a signal of intentions and the character of the country.

Instead, I think the record demonstrates amply that politicians respond to a lot of things: a plumber with a simple question, a gaffe from an opponent, but relevant to this conversation: the thoughts and feelings of those around them. And those who are around politicians tend not to be representative of everyone. For one thing, given the low pay / high work ratios of working in the public sector, those around politicians tend to gather some sort of "pay" from being close to power, or from feeling like they are making a difference and helping people. But most importantly, these people are also elites, interested enough in the public sector to interact with it much more than the average person. Those are the workers.

The citizens who voice their opinions also aren't representative. Yes, they are of every sex, orientation, color, and hue, but they all care too much. They (or I should say we) are often polarized, and are motivated to contact offices in DC with specific wishes for or against bills. There's nothing wrong with these interests, but I've found in my experience that such interests come from two places. Either they are from people with a personal focus (like the parents of children with cancer who lobby congress for more research funding), and whose political interests are focused in that area, or they care about dan near everything. Those with personal focuses are more like the rest of us - they are involved because of what happened to them or their loved ones, but they only sound off on one thing. The people who care about everything sound off on 10 things. Or 20 things. And so the partisans (good people that they/we are) get an overinflated power over every politician and of that politician's positions.

And logically, too, I should say, since these are the same people that contribute to campaigns. But these people are not everyone - I am not of the same level of political interest as my collegemates - and as a result, our leaders stop representing everyone and they start representing US - the interested class.

This event is important because it brings more people into the sphere of influence on politicians. Their words and actions will differ now, because 215k+ people showed up to the Rally, and if they don't, people will be more likely to hold them to account. So in the long term, I might push for process reform, but in the meantime, I will celebrate rallies that are about countering the insane games that politicians and those that surround them play in the search for power.

Senior Year

I'm not going to DC for the rally. The reason is that I have the privilege of helping to organize the Joe Scarborough event happening this Tuesday, and that I need to get caught up with work.

But before I do that, a few lessons learned this year with whatever writing power I have left.

1. You get the things you want when you stop wanting them

You can think about, and daydream about, what you want to be doing for hours. But when the time comes for you to get your dream, it's not a dream. It's work, it's boring, and to some degree, you enjoy the memory more than the moment. These things cannot be our goals - if you set your goal too low, you might not hit it. But if your goal is too high, then even missing it will accomplish something.

2. History matters.

I didn't know hardly anything about the Progressives of the Turn of the Century until about two weeks ago. Turns out they were interesting and fascinating, and that I would have been there right with them..... as they failed. Leadership is about inspiring people to go above and beyond, yes, but its also about knowing something humanity's failings. You cannot lead from a pedestal.

3. Images are easy to create.

I find it remarkable how many people think I'm amazingly busy, which is true, but for all of the wrong reasons. Yes, I do RASAN, the Feast, and man other clubs, but the things that take my time almost always happen behind the scenes. Bringing a speaker to campus and sending all-campus e-mails are very visible, but they aren't the stuff of involvement or leadership.

4. The world of the Elite is strange.

I don't think I want to be a part of it. There's too much nonsense involved. If, though, I can sit next to it, reaching it occasionally to make things happen....well, that would be perfect.

5. When you go onto a conference call where you might be asked a question.....have an answer ready.

I'M SO EXCITED!

About what, I can't say yet. But I am.

Now to write a response paper.

Too Much to Do

I did not anticipate how many wonderful things I would enjoy in the past week, or how little time they would leave me for other wonderful things. 3 hours of sleep, here I come, then it's back to it.

What I did since Friday (to elaborate on later): CUL, Degrees, Class, List, Website, E-mails, Board meeting, '57 dinner, Gaudino, Gaudino, brunch, reading, feast, tfa discussion with cousins, rasan, storytime, discussion, reading, car finding, essay, registrar visiting, essaying, reading, meeting, class, soccer game, dinner with mother (not mine), class, reading, reading, and much more writing to go.

I love it all. Unfortunately.