A human instinct for joy?

I just finished a wonderful book- Let the Great World Spin by Colum McCann. In a postscript he writes about "the human instinct for recovery and joy."

It reminded me of something I've thought often about kids.... That they are fun-makers, literally looking to turn everything into fun, as if their natural state is laughter or at least smiles, which is something that must be shared. 

And if you don't laugh along, if you start getting all serious and needing earnestly to get things done-- that's when they'll butt up against you and be stubborn and whiny and difficult. 

If you can make things fun, you can also get things done. 

Sometimes I think that's the "purpose" of children in the world, to remind us to lighten up and connect with each other and get some perspective. I suppose that's why older people, at least the nice ones, like kids so much too-- they appreciate the incredible tight-packed essence of life and energy in their little frames, and they see how that drains with age, without us even realizing it....

So if there is a human instinct for recovery and joy, it is a primal one from earliest childhood. It's the child in us, ironically, that can keep going, that can take loss and disappointment in stride.

I think there are a few other forces at work in all of us too. Of course the force of fear-- which is the opposing force of fun in every way. If fun gets us to try new things, to be curious and connecting, fear causes us to draw back, to doubt ourselves, to turn inward.

Perhaps deriving from this basic dichotomy, there comes from that feeling of fun a drive to create and be productive, to work (if the work is right, "unalienated" I suppose). And from fear, there comes a drive to destroy. 

Where does boredom come in, I wonder, another truly elemental state. I suppose it can lead either way-- thrill seeking can be destructive or generative.

I'm grateful for the book for making me feel so much while staying so safe -- without real danger or heartache. It was such a poignant reminder to appreciate.

Germany

Over the past month, I've been amazed to see Germany accept tens of thousands of refugees and to hear Chancellor Merkel promise that the country will take up to 1,000,000 within the year. It's truly mind boggling that families fleeing across the world consider Germany the destination of choice.

Even those voices that criticize Germany's generous policy as indirectly encouraging more people to flee and raising their hopes about entry to Europe, and who forecast bad things ahead for Germany and other European countries that accept refugees on the assumption that they will surely fail to integrate them-- should admit that the resolution to open the country's doors to people in dire need is laudatory.

Germany, the country that started two world wars? The country that invented industrialized mass murder and committed the worst crimes of humanity during the Holocaust? The country that until recently seemed to have utterly failed to attract the high skilled engineers and technicians from abroad that it had sought to bolster its workforce because it was not seen as hospitable?

It’s a surprise to me to witness this new Germany, but not a shock. There has been a gradual but very real shift in Germany's identity over the last generations and even during the last decade. 

How did this happen?

It is the direct result of a long and slow process of self-examination following World War II – the Nazi era and all its crimes. A second generation of Germans famously asked their parents and grandparents what they had done during the war and tried to hold Germany accountable for its sins. Universities took up the calls, so did political parties, the media – books and movies, and a special relationship developed between Germany and Israel.

The lessons of the past – to shun anti-Semitism and all forms of xenophobia and nationalism, to question political violence  – were taught to apply very directly to the present. A slate of monuments, large and small, in central symbolic places and in small alleys in front of people’s home, were built not only to make the point that Germany should never forget its role as perpetrators, but also that it needed to live with that past and translate its lessons in very real ways today. 

And the message was taken up by real people. Groups like Action Reconciliation Service for Peace has sent thousands of post- high school volunteers over decades to work with Jewish organizations, Holocaust survivors and others who suffered under Naziism in Germany, the United States, Israel, Poland and beyond. Many Germans I met during my studies in Berlin and those who visited AJC seeking a more formal dialogue when I worked there, talked very seriously about moral issues and responsibilities. Finally, Germany's leadership tried to set the tone at the top. 

Germany is a far cry from a tolerant ideal. Discrimination still exists and sometimes rears its very ugly head, as in the racist-led populist marches being held in Dresden. But the debate is lively: even in Dresden, the counter marchers turn out in impressive force. Regular debates about school integration, circumcision and multiculturalism come up with strong voices all around, but Germany has not enacted laws against mosque height, as Switzerland has, or the wearing of head scarves. The outcomes of these discussions may be unresolved; they generally do not end with further polarizing decisions. Perhaps one can even argue that it's good to keep some of the tensions above surface and to engage in regular national arguments.

It would of course be naive to think that Germany’s new found hospitality is an ethical issue alone. As Brecht famously wrote in The Three Penny Opera: “first food, then morality.” Germany has a strong economy, an anomaly in a struggling Europe. A generous refugee policy is enabled by the country’s economic position, which allows it to even consider the high cost of absorbing refugees.

There is also the demographic issue that has haunted Germany for over a decade – too few young people, too many pensioners on the horizon. New immigrants, many young, offer an answer for an aging population. And the people fleeing Syria are often well educated. So there is self-interest involved as well.

Finally, while the country’s leadership is in favor, and the hospitality of many citizens is undeniable, there remain right wing elements, some of them extreme. It's scary to see those skinheads and their supporters, whose more civilized clothes hide even more pernicious threats, and who have before and may again strike out violently against refugees. They are relatively few, but they can do substantial damage. 

Even short of violence, there is no chance that a mass immigration of this nature will move forward without problems. After the initial euphoria, we can expect real concerns about the pressure this will put on housing, the economy, schools. There will certainly be some radicals among the refugees themselves. The decision to accept people is a far cry from being able to successfully integrate them. The United States may have some lessons to offer here, though our own present backlash is not encouraging. 

And with all this, the Germany that is accepting refugees, no – welcoming them in the full knowledge that it will have to deal with problems and that this immigration will change the face of the country– is a Germany that is worth noticing and for which I am quite grateful.

And there is one other thing to mention here. I believe that the outcome of this decision is not set and sealed. Will integration be possible or will it fail miserably? Yes, there are historical precedents, but they are not determinants. Decisions that are made now, in small, people-to-people ways and in large, political ones -- will influence the result. So I'd rather cheer than sit on the sidelines and predict the worst. I'd like to think that we can encourage the amazing Germans, young and older, who want to do the right things and that their engagement in this process will bode well for a positive resolution of this courageous action. 

Moving

We are in the moving end game right now. The apartment we are leaving is a mess and I hope I'll be able to locate my winter shoes again in a few months when they are needed (or even a second pair of shoes in the next two weeks would be nice, not to mention other, more necessary articles of clothing!).

But with a few days still left, I've tried to take some parts slowly. And that's been quite wonderful, not only for the aspirational better-organization, or even the benefits of what I call "shopping at home," but also for what I am looking at and remembering.

I have looked through the cards I received when we were married and on every major family occasion. So many thoughtful wishes, so much time invested in preparing, writing and sending. I know back then I was grateful too, but I wonder whether I had the time and peace of mind to realize just how lovely those greetings were. Some were from colleagues with whom I had no contact outside work: how extraordinarily kind of them to reach out across that boundary and share personal good wishes. With most I haven't kept up contact, and that doesn't seem surprising, but how much I'd like to reach out just one more time to say 'thank you' for their intention and their action-- and to tell them that it meant something then and it does now again.  

Some letters came from people - often from work as well - whom I knew much better but with whom I am no longer in regular touch. Some of them live in other countries, spread across the world. A few of them may even read this blog, which was what motivated me to stop the packing and write again after a bit of a hiatus (how nice to find a way to procrastinate that gets me to stop procrastinating something else!).  Some of those notes were so deeply touching. I had often forgotten the strength of our experiences together. And how movingly these friends articulate what it has meant to work and learn together. It's revelatory for me to realize that while the work we did together is long gone, those human connections were the lasting elements all along. If you are reading this- I hope you know who you are and how much our connection still means to me today.

There are notes from my superiors. I had forgotten how much encouragement I've had over the years. How lucky I am, how motivating those letters are to read even now. As a boss, I need to internalize that lesson. How meaningful it is to feel thanks, and how deeply that can inspire. 

There are a few notes from older friends, parents of my friends, friends of my parents.... How kind that you thought of me and us, how much I appreciate now what it meant to choose to be part of my life as I grew older and changed, and when there were no outside expectations to do so at all. As a kid, I certainly took this for granted, as an adult- I'm afraid I did sometimes too- caught up in my own life as I have been. I hope as an older adult I'll can tap into some of that same ability to care that you have shown.

Some of the notes are from family and dear friends. We've largely stopped writing letters now and I'm sorry about it. There is a permanence, a thoughtfulness, even a literary, storytelling quality that cannot be recovered in other forms. For a few years now I've also begun to appreciate what old friendships and relationships really mean, and why they are so categorically different than new connections, even when they too can be strong in the moment.

Some of the letter writers have passed away. Just a few - but I cannot bear to throw those notes away. Death is such an absolute barrier that it almost seems a miracle to have slipped out those pieces of paper from under its nose. Different from pictures or memories in my own mind, these speak quite literally to me in the voice of the person. I can't even read most of them now, but I'm glad to keep them for later.

I keep my father's notes. He often expresses himself in poems and small rhymes and they are beautiful.

Finally, my dear mother always wishes to be mentioned here, though I don't as a rule write about family, even if my gratitude belongs to them before any others. Here, though, I can say that I have more letters from her than from any other person in the world and that surely means something! My mother's letters document the major and minor hurdles of my life - the births and the birthdays, the successes and the disappointments, and also the small disagreements and the nice afternoons. 

In the end - my pile of letters is smaller but my head more full. And above all, The emotion I experience through this really strong experience of going through letters is that I am so very grateful.

And now... Back to packing!

Graduations

GI had a visit last night from a former Danish scholar of Thanks To Scandinavia, the organization I had the privilege of running some years ago, who was in New York on vacation with her boyfriend.

They had been to Washington Square Park earlier in the day and remarked on the hordes of students in purple cap and gown and their cheering, picture taking families. 

In Denmark, after you hand in your thesis, you get a preliminary certificate of completion (predicated on the assumption that your paper won't be failing-grade) and one piece of candy. The paper entitles you to government aid as a non-student (as opposed to the aid you get when you are a student) and the candy, well, I guess that's what's left of any symbolic ritual to mark the end of one's days as a student. A sweet, but oh so short moment in time.

There is something very traditional about graduations, complete with those silly hats. But I could tell the Danes liked the idea and if they were laughing- it was like a kid's laughter, just covering their jealousy.

Rituals to mark moments, to create memories, to build narratives.... They have their charm. Celebrations of personal achievement are definitely more suited to a culture that prizes individual experience over one that encourages the individual to take a step aside for the larger group or society and not show off or stand out. Though I remember being slightly embarrassed by all the fuss - many years ago -- I like seeing it too on hear beautiful late spring days and I like the seasonal ruminations on graduation speeches and life advice as well.

I think we have a lot to learn from Scandinavia, but here's a nice little ritual they might learn from us.

New beginnings- virtue or betrayal?

In the next generation, traditions and knowledge are lost and connections to the past are severed. 

Is it bad? Is it the shedding of family bonds, of rituals that have been built over centuries and with purpose, of secrets, of connectiveness and ultimately the chance of inner harmony? Is it possible to lose age-old wisdom within one generation? Is it arrogant, disrespectful, and ultimately self-destructive? 

Is it good? Does it allow a shedding of prejudice and a realization of a more conscuous enlightened society? Are new connections of circumstance possible across historic bounds, including ethnicity and religion? Can these be deep and meaningful, even as they are created within months and years and not through family upbringing and ethnic identity? Can new community be created or is the rejection of old a recipe for atomization and individualization?

The act of new beginnings is a revolutionary one. Is it a good revolution or a bad one?

 

It's fascinating to see where people come out on this, and deeply predictive of political leanings and civic involvement and more- of interpretations of history and ideology and right and wrong.

It's also interesting to check in and see- at least for me- that both of these narratives resonate to some degree, and sometimes the tendencies need to check each other (a community cafeteria for example to forge new bonds in an accidental community). And I'd add- there is nothing inevitable- a revolution can start good and turn bad or vice versa. 

Reactive forces against modernization are constantly emerging, but it's not always clear why. It's helpful to be able to take the balcony from time to time on these questions - and it explains a lot. 

And it's good to realize that our actions are also affecting that big picture. Are there ways we might moderate what we are doing or saying based on outcomes we'd like to see?

I like jury duty

I've been spending the last couple of days on Federal jury duty -- or sitting in a waiting room seeing whether I'll serve or not. 

Outside, I've had some discussions about the wisdom of the system. Should justice really be served by "the people" or aren't professionals better suited to deciding on questions of innocence and guilt? 

Without weighing in on that exact question - jury duty did impress me for two functions it serves.

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Jury duty was taken seriously. It is clearly a place where law and process are deeply respected. After postponing several times, I really had to show up-- and so did many others. And each person was accounted for, papers filled out, procedures explained. For lunch we were dismissed, when we returned they checked us in, and before we were dismissed in the evening again. A film was shown to us about the procedure featuring Chief Justice Robertson, Sandra Day O'Conner and others.

Since my recent trip to Haiti, a functioning system of rule of law and the general perception that - as a rule - justice will be served, feels more important than ever. Without that most fundamental trust in government- how can anything else be built? Police, army, taxes, traffic.... 

In Haiti, we were told that the only experience many people have of their government is getting in random trouble with the law. And there is no sense of justice there- it is rather haphazard. 

Without that basic fundament, trust does not exist with government and the people are left to their own devices, whether to get an education or drive in traffic without lights or deal with crime.

Clearly, with the recent failures to prosecute major crimes here in our country and the suspicion of prejudice at play-- it is clear again to all that our system of justice can be unfair too. That's a perception that wide swaths of our population have felt keenly for a very long time.

(Re)gaining that trust is paramount. 

And so it was at least nice for me to see how seriously the jury process is taken. I especially appreciated the lovely demeanor of the people with whom I interacted. So different from the sometimes almost abusive demeanor I've experienced at other government agencies with people who hold power over me. At jury duty, there is a kind, humorous, but also sincere face of the government and law.

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What I think is really missing in our society are places where diverse people sit together and engage in conversations that are important because they have real consequences.

The opportunity of getting a jury together to do just this -- and to insist on unanimity -- hit me again as extraordinary. 

And why shouldn't such a group rise to the challenge of meting out justice? 

The experience reminded me of a book I finished recently extolling the virtues of "slow democracy"-- in essence, just this: the ability of a community to come together in deliberation and reflection and decision making. The book lamented how America's great virtue of grassroots democratic activism has been subverted by "experts" and professionals at every turn, disenfranchising the people not only from decisions made that affect them, but also from a key reason to be with and understand each other.

I buy the argument and from that perspective, embraced jury duty as a chance to engage in real, meaningful democratic practice. 

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And to top it off, cell phones were prohibited in the waiting room. Unexpectedly, the days have taken on an almost meditative quality, without the hectic frantic pace of constant exchange. And with the addition of books and a bit of time to reflect. And so I like jury duty for that reason too.

... Did I mention it's right near Chinatown?

Modern vs old and the redeeming nature of beauty

I've been writing some pieces on the JDC field blog. Here's one on Georgia - http://www.jdc.org/jdc-field-blog/2015/hope-amid-struggle-in-georgia.html

For me, this was really seeing the role of beauty and art in the most difficult circumstances- and how grateful I was to encounter that.

And another on Cuba (yes, a lot of travel), which is really about how hard it is to understand what you are seeing if you don't know what came before-- so important if you want to understand dynamics at work in a place. http://www.jdc.org/jdc-field-blog/2015/silence-speaks-loudly-in-cuba.html?s=g_npr_in

For what do we stand?

If ever there was a time to articulate what we stand for in the most positive and passionate terms - that time is now.

With the terrible attacks in Paris and fear escalating in Europe, a vast number of people have stood up to say what they stand against. The war on terrorism that was first declared on September 21, 2001, has been renewed and rededicated, this time explicitly against Islamic fundamentalism. There are discussions about the need for surveillance; global covert data sharing; and vigilance in schools, prisons and on the internet. The show of unity has been dramatic.

But of course in the end, this is a war of hearts and minds, an ideological battle-- not just a security threat. The ideology that offers the most genuine passion, the most authentic appeal - is the one that wins for an untold number of youth and their enablers. 

The stakes are very high. If we don't win, there is no policing that can contain the threat that may emerge, no defense robust enough to find and quell each pocket of hate without trampling democracy in the process. 

And if we win, there is so very much to gain- not just against the would-be terrorists and the active purveyors of hate, but for ourselves. 

And yet, too few people are engaging on this front. It is easier to be united by a common enemy than to find our unity in a common vision. To do so sounds naive, simplistic, foolish. 

Everyone from the field of business to personal therapy knows about the power that individuals and teams derive from a positive vision. It's the key to success on career and personal fronts. And yet, we are sorely missing that vision in our political scene today, and often in our personal lives. 

My blog has been about trying to re-articulate, at least for myself, what is to be prized about our society, what has been won, and, as part of this continuum, what must be maintained or improved upon:

1. A belief in pluralism - which is the notion that we can live together because we share certain fundamental human traits that connect us beyond the diverse cultural, religious, and political beliefs we harbor. If we give this up and choose tribalism, we are giving up the fundament of any modern, global democracy. Hand-in-hand with embracing this belief, is a commitment to striving for the ideal of equal opportunity; it means women's rights, civil rights, freedom of religion, gay rights and more - not because we are the same, but because we must be given an equally say so that we can continue to live together.

2. The importance of education- a trust that more knowledge leads to better ends. Of course this needs to be checked with humanity, honestly, and a strong valuation of integrity, but it remains nonetheless crucial. Knowledge is the opposite - not of humanity but of superstition and repression. This belief provides justification for a free press and an open political system, where hate speech is countered by better speech, not force.

3. The rule of law and a monopoly of force by government, which is entrusted with this power by its people. There may be other rules in personal conduct, and other forces within families and communities, but none has the power to decide when different sectors collide beside the State, and that authority and its exercise must be recognized by all.

4. A strong appreciation of the sanctity of the individual. This understanding  is tapered by an interest in the common good, but not superseded. It goes hand in hand with the belief in pluralism, and each value checks the other.

5. And while these are not in our founding dictums-- I'd like to add that today we have understood the importance of an appreciation for our environment, for something spiritual within us, and a sense of perspective and humor. Perhaps these derive from a mature understanding of our own mortality.

At a time of overwhelming political gridlock and frustration - and much worse - cynicism, including among our most highly educated and comfortable, who today is fighting for what is right in the idealistic and passionate terms of men like Martin Luther King Jr., whose life we remember this weekend? Surely he at his time had the right to be cynical, to turn away from lofty ideals in favor of a simpler goal of personal/family comfort. But he chose instead not only to fight against what was wrong, but to articulate in a clear and stirring manner a vision. It was that vision- more I believe than the specific laws and disgraces he was fighting against - that drove him in his day, and inspired so many then and since: a vision of what was right.

What type of the society do we feel is worth protecting, joining, even celebrating? 

We really, truly have to make that case-- and believe it and share it. Now.