It’s still Happy Week, and I’ve been thinking about the reasons that I started this blog in the first place, and what I hoped to get out of it, and what it–and, more importantly, the practice of writing it–has done for me over the past few years.
My life has changed a lot over the past 3 years; when I started the blog, the twins were still babies, I hadn’t really started consulting, and, of course, I had 3 kids instead of 4, none of whom were in school full-time.
But, in other ways, it hasn’t changed that much, really. My biggest challenge, then and now, is trying to balance my role as a mom and my passions as an advocate. I still feel pulled into direct advocacy, and then struggle with how family-unfriendly a life that revolves around media work and legislators’ needs is. I still get a huge thrill on the first day of a new semester (and feel like a graduating senior on the last day of class!). I still wish that I had more time to read blogs by really smart people, to get through the ever-growing list of titles to read in my calendar, and to eat a meal uninterrupted.
But, this week, I’m reflecting not just on how I have changed in the time since I started this blog, but also how it has changed me…or, in some cases, kept me from changing. The 6 (2 a year, no?) awesomest things, then, that this blog has done for me, in no particular order.
And, please, because it’s Happy Week: has it done anything even somewhat awesome for you? Would you be willing to share?
- Kept me in touch with former students: It is truly a delight to get a comment from a student I had a few years ago, or to see a former student and hear that he/she has been impacted in some way by our ongoing relationship through the blog.
- Expanded the walls of my classroom: While former students are much more engaged than current ones–likely because they no longer have so much reading to do for class!–it is a real asset to my teaching to be able to use the blog as an extension of a conversation we’re having in the classroom, or as a way to connect my students with other thinkers in and outside of the profession.
- Introduced me to some insightful, passionate people: Some of my favorite people I have never met in ‘real-life’, yet I feel so blessed by the generous way they share their reflections, and even their guidance, online, in their own spaces and here.
- Kept me engaged with scholarship: While I’d never pretend that my writing here is of peer-reviewed caliber, it is such good discipline for me to have to write, and read, regularly, in order to produce content for the blog. Especially with the demands of my family, teaching, and my consulting work, it would be so easy to let those practices slip by, and I believe that I would suffer, personally and professionally, for it.
- Connected me to the social media sphere: I don’t think that I would have embraced social spaces online as thoroughly as I have without the blog; it was definitely my motivation to try Twitter, for example, and it complements my personal Facebook engagement, too. I can’t really imagine my life without those outlets, and those relationships, now, and so I’m grateful.
- Given me an outlet: There’s no denying it; I’m happier now that my husband isn’t the only entity to whom I can vent about policies that are maddening, or rave about organizing campaigns that are inspiring. When I finish a book, I have something to DO, actually, with the sticky notes that I’ve littered it with. And that’s really therapeutic.
Thank you, those who read and, in so doing, both enrich my thinking and justify my pursuit. YOU are, without a doubt, the awesomest of the awesome things that this blog has brought to me.
Happy Happy Week, to you!


See–Feel–Change
I’m still thinking about change.
About how we understand it. In order to spark it.
Even though we can never really control it.
I find that these inquiries lead me to rely more than usual on the ‘social-worky’ side of my self, since a lot of what leads people to change depends, to a great extent, on how they connect–to the people in the movement, to the cause, to their own hopes and dreams.
It’s really, really not about the cookies.
One part of Switch that fascinates me is the discussion about the psychological studies of how people make decisions.
See, the way they describe it, we all think that we’re “analyze–think–change” types. In the policy world, too, policymakers always tell us they want more data. But when do they listen the most attentively? When someone tells them a story.
Because they, like us, are really more “see–feel–change”. We respond best to what hits us in our gut, to what we see vividly from a reference of our own experience, to what moves us emotionally even when our brains may not be ready to go anywhere.
This isn’t the same thing as relying on fear or anger or other somewhat negative emotions to catalyze action. We can feel empathy and hope and excitement just as powerfully, and the evidence suggests that they can spark change just as surely.
And it goes without saying that our thinking isn’t totally marginalized in the process. What we feel is shaped in part by what we believe, which is the culmination of many thoughts we’ve had, that becomes our way of seeing the world.
But this see–feel–change process does point us in a different direction, for our policy communication efforts, than we often believe would be most effective. It suggests that the stories that we tell are even more important than the data that we amass, and that wanting people to know something is not, at its core, the same as wanting them to do something.
Here’s what I think it means, for how we talk with people about the problems we face and the policy solutions they demand. And, perhaps even more importantly than how we talk with people, here’s what I think it means for how we show people what’s going on in our community and why they are an essential part of those same solutions.
When have you been moved to act, in the advocacy arena, based on how you felt about what someone helped you to see? Or, perhaps more importantly, can you remember when a piece of data, or some analytical conclusion you reached, is what prompted your advocacy?
We don’t make pro and con lists for most of the biggest decisions in our lives. It’s the same with trying to right a wrong.
We see.
We feel.
And we do.
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Posted in Analysis and Commentary
Tagged social change