Learning from my grandfather’s Red Feed during this election

For the last year, my grandfather has moved from reading the printed newspaper every day (Washington Post, NYTimes, Boston Globe depending on where he is at the time) to reading things recommended to him on his new Facebook account, influenced by the internet’s increasingly present algorithms and filter bubbles. The experience is very Red feed/Blue Feed between us. It meant I went from receiving fact checked articles on topics he found interesting to weekly emails from random blogs on the internet that bleed hate from the headline, even before I clicked the links in his emails.

At first my blood would BOIL… why was he sending me things that bash everything I am and do in very poorly formulated sentences and non-existent arguments? The bulk of the page used “facts” taken out of context that were often very outdated about immigration and jobs and technology and Obama’s presidency. I tried to ignore these articles. But they kept coming to my inbox.

I started to read through some of them. Coming from him, it felt really disrespectful and strange. He would never speak to me or my friends with the language I saw in these articles… so why was it ended up in my inbox?

Theory: Maybe I could ask him?

One solution: I tried to write back and note my discontent with the source and asking him what he took out of the source, what could I focus on to make sense of what he hoped I would take out of this article… there was never any response to support the argument or tell me how to read the article as he had. Looking back, I was not really creating a space for conversation and the response probably sounded like: this is garbage, why would you send this to me? Not exactly an open field for discussion, I needed a new approach.

New Theory: I started to think about why he might be sending me these articles, and I think it’s because the subject matter is about things I care very deeply about and this was a source he had found that could maybe help me think about my argument for “the other side.” Or maybe this was him showing interest in the topics I talk about a lot. There was love at the back of the sender, though the resource was like reading a poorly written oped from a hate group that had somehow ended up in his internet searches. Maybe there was another way to have a conversation about the sources or, drop the sources entirely, and offer him my own notes on what I was learning… YES! CONVERSATIONS FROM MY OWN RESEARCH! Civic discussion!

Proposed solution: CUT OUT THE BAD SOURCE ENTIRELY and replace with new info from a trusted source! (Turns out, this is cool option even if I don’t successfully remove the presence of these bad sources.)

To keep trying new things: I started to look at this as a researcher. What is the other side writing about and reading? These are more based in fears and growing fear of the “future” than it was spreading immediate information. Why was this a necessary and/or useful goal for the writer?

New Theory: He is an excellent listener and talks to everyone and likes a lot of what I post on Facebook, which is pretty liberal. He doesn’t think I am terrible or crazy. Maybe he hopes to teach me how to talk to a different group of people and reach them where they are right now. Maybe he is encouraging listening in different ways than I am used to at present.

Solution: Ok, I can engage a new audience and learn to listen in new ways. I can listen and deep canvass and spend time building community. I like to build new communities that support each other. Maybe the fear and anger that is pouring out of the page is trying to tell me something in a different way than I am interpreting the arguments or “facts” here. That this “article” exists may be indicative of something else than it says directly it words, it’s presence as something “valid” to someone is a fact of something else entirely… time to do more research and listening… from here I can grow.

I should note before all of these things, I had to walk away from my email for a while to think about the situation before I could think of possible solutions and angles on the situation. But this was an important lesson because:

  1. It made me think about where someone who reads/thinks about things completely differently from me might be coming from and find a common ground for a conversation where I did not engage with just pure emotion.
  2. I can start practicing having hard conversations and defending my views from within my family, where there is more room for forgiveness and failure.

I am sharing my notes from this experience because I hope it helps someone else navigate similar situations. If you are working through this kind of conversation with someone else, good luck!


An idea exploring Government vs. Civil Society

I am exploring this idea:

If government represents who we are and what we value now, then civil society and institutions are responsible for exploring and articulating visions for what we could be, who we might become as a community.

I would love to hear other people’s reactions to this, especially as I explore it further through specific case studies.

Where do we go from here? Civil society after the 2016 Election

I took a few days to think about and gather myself, asking, what comes next? What happens now? A few things, naturally. But one of the things I took away from a conversation this morning that is helping me re-center as a researcher and activist are these two questions:

  1. What are my values when I think about the society I want to build and live in?

  2. As I am now and what I can become, what role can I play in creating that society?

Maybe what frightens me most is how clearly this election went way off the rails in terms of any sort of clear discussion about values. Do we want to build an equal society? Do we want to distribute resources such that everyone can compete on an equal playing field? Do we want to grow at any cost (because maybe there are still people who believe trickle down economics work… it’s doesn’t). I want to start here, as I reaffirmed some of my values this morning at Trinity Wall Street.

Today's prayers at Trinity Wall Street
Today’s prayers at Trinity Wall Street

I think every concrete solution requires some compromises, but what are the truths we want to fight for and focus on as we rebuild our communities. I am not sure I could tell you where Trump or anyone on his team derive their values. I pray that this regime is not as dangerous as the troop of mercenaries (meaning, without a guiding northern light of a philosophy or set of values) that they seem to be. I hope we can push this government or at least the civilian communities in political life to be more explicit in restating and clarifying our values.

I has an important conversation this afternoon where we asked the question: Do we design a government for who we are now or who we could be? What if government was designed with space to grow into what we strive to become? What if there was an ideal (or, more realistically, a set of ideals) and we created space for that growth, reflection, and critique of ourselves? What would that society look like, and what would the practice be like on the individual and community levels.

I love the stories where appealing to people privately and engaging with them can help bring teaching moments and shared values to the surface. Deep Canvassing, an effort by the Los Angeles LGBT Center and SAVE in Florida where volunteers knock on doors and have 10 minute conversations about LGBT and trans rights with voters who rejected measures to protect these communities WORKED. It changed minds in ways that perhaps blanket bans on certain behaviors and speech could not. But it was here, in civil society, that community was build and maintained a new social order. They appealed to what people could be, instead of where they were at that time, frozen as an identity.

An activist I admire argues that the best way to participate politically is to show up with your skill set and offer to help. What can you do to push the conversation and effort further, because not everyone should show up and community organize. Movements need fundraisers to support the community, they need a web presence and a good designer to help reach new audiences. They need writers to record their message and history. There are many ways to participate.

Now more than ever, I am reminded that civil society is part of the political conversation as much as government is, and there are so many ways to participate. We created salons 4 years ago to push our conversations about feminism and equal rights beyond our classrooms and create a place for people to ask hard questions and learn about morality, how to negotiate, friendships, and other things that we sometimes suffer through on our own. Creating community is political, we are organizing, and it is necessary. We are stronger and better equipped for debate and building new ideas when we are working together. Perhaps it is most toxic to the system when we decide not to participate or continue learning at all. And these conversations in our community can take many forms… maybe even just visions of what the future could look like for our communities, or meeting new people in your neighborhood and city, attending local events by artists or religious institutions or universities, etc.

Beyond that, I think I can contribute as a researcher, offering ideas and studies where communities have trouble competing with well-funded think tanks. Too many histories fall off the charts because they aren’t recorded in the detail they deserve, their impact goes unmeasured, unnoticed. I want to be part of fixing this problem too. But I think I need to spend a little more time thinking through the vision for my next few years as an activist and (everything else that I am).

That’s where I am for today.

(Burrowing Owls Header, Image credit to Shell Game on Flickr, Cape Coral, FL; 17 Feb 2012)

War on Facts? Research after Election 2016

I’m exploring what it means to be a researcher (and fact checker) during and after this election cycle. Especially if this is a “post-fact world.”

I want to argue now that we’re not so much “post-fact” as we are missing and ignoring a lot of information. I’m inspired by Rebecca’s Solnit’s Hope in the Dark, which reminds us that progress is a long conversation, not a quick series of victories. And hope for me is a collection of smaller moments… so I want to share what makes me hopeful and how I think we can heal post election.

Facts are useful tools, they are not the end game. Proving “truth” alone does not mean healthy communities, because we need to meet people as people and we haven’t done that especially well these last few years. Especially when we move away from a system that creates bridges and listens and into one that ignores our communities when they ask for help. A crucial part of our healing process after this election is to listen and understand where our communities are afraid and where they are hopeful. THEN we can use facts to build solutions that meet these needs.

I am recalibrating my goals as a professional researcher and fact checker in media to serve this wider purpose. How do we listen, identify the existing problems and concerns, and then use facts to build solutions rather than silence immediately. As background, I was very anxious while following the election coverage for most of this spring and summer. It felt like this:

Image by Safwat Saleem
Image by Safwat Saleem

I cut myself off from more than a few minutes of NPR every morning because even a moment of engaging with the “logic” presented by the Trump campaign made me feel crazy. I had to take some time off from election coverage for the first election since I was really little. This was the first year I wasn’t planning GOTV efforts, phone banking, and studying candidate policies whenever I could. It was a strange place to be… my skill set felt completely useless and I wanted to find some way to participate, even if it meant waiting until after the election.

Thankfully, I ended up here thanks to a story on This American Life about the divide in research and a follow up piece about listening with empathy:

This American Life ran a story in October 2016 about the state of facts and arguments in this election cycle. These sorts of stories used to keep me up for hours, knotted with anxiety about how we recover from this election cycle.

 At one point in this piece, Ira Glass quotes Rush Limbaugh on Fact Checkers in this election reporting through the New York Times and groups like Politfact (which won the Pulitzer Prize for its work):

For someone who goes through each statement and weighs its accuracy every day… this is terrifying. It is abusive to his audience and it’s damaging to the country as a whole. But it helped me sit there and stare at the language being used to bash what I do every day. I was able to face the problem. In truth, if this is a sentiment… we might not have all the facts we need to make real arguments that people hear.

NEXT This American Life followed this terrifying episode with one that offered some important advice on how we may find a route towards healing. At least, for those willing to rebuild together.

This story dives into the heart of the divisions and spread of misinformation. The section where the community in Minnesota is struggling to make sense of rising anxiety about immigration and refugees and terrorists is telling: one woman calls out her local politician for talking at her, not listening to her concerns and acknowledging them. People are afraid and feel excluded from this political system. This is a fact some choose not to see.

As I listener, I had that moment where I realized, of course! I would never tell a friend that their feelings were irrelevant or wrong. What made it ok to tell an entire population that their feelings were irrelevant or wrong? The only way to reach a solution is to build a common understanding.

Meanwhile, the future doesn’t seem so great and its scary for huge sections of the United States. People are afraid, and no number of times that someone far away in Washington DC or New York or San Francisco saying “it will work out, don’t worry” or “you have nothing to worry about, this (mechanization shift) is better for everyone, will meet them where they are. It’s belittling.

J.D. Vance presents really important points here about his experience growing up in Ohio and the culture shock of coming to Yale Law School.

And people are struggling to manage or mitigate their fear of the present an future in their communities. In the last couple years, whenever I’ve driven through rural Massachusetts, we’ve seen informal memorials going up to remember people who’ve died locally from heroine overdoses.  Heroine’s deadly impact on our communities is visible in so many places, including the rising number of public restrooms that are now closed because local organizations, like churches and gas stations, cannot handle the overdosing cases taking place in these spaces. Suicide rates are at a 30 year high and the future we imagine “fondly” in some places, where machines take over jobs that once kept families fed and housed are disappearing. Worse yet, these struggling families are regularly shamed by even their own politicians for needing support and having trouble finding work that allows them to survive and support their families.

Maybe my role as a researcher and activist can take a different bent, I can fact check but I can also listen better.

When we meet these communities with silence or do not speak to and acknowledge their fears, they will find “information” that does meet them where they are. Information is still a commodity, which means, the informal market will offer solutions if the formal market does not fill existing needs. It is strategically better for everyone if we have direct conversations about things like immigration and disappearing jobs, engaging with both real information and individual concerns and emotions, than it is to ignore it or say these concerns are irrelevant.

I argue that NOT engaging with the emotional tone of communities, their fears and concerns, and their hopes, create a power vacuum for leadership that we see frequently filled in the informal economy or in informal community organizations. I thought back to a lesson from TEDxMidAtlantic in October, where Bioethicist Jeffrey Kahn argued that Bans operate similarly to existing without rules at all. He uses examples from current bans in the US around Stem Cell research and specific procedures that prevent mitochondrial disease from being passed from mother to baby using another mother’s mitochondria. Without rules on acceptable use and discussion, people just seek out methods in the informal economy or the black market to fill their needs, whether that means traveling to a different country or meeting someone off record and, at times, without sufficient medical support or advice.

Turns out, we already know it’s better for business to be sensitive to our teammates’ concerns and be nice. In fact, it’s coming up more and more often. So, why has this shift in team work and collaborative thinking not shifted to politics or debate?

We ask to see leaders who are human and who can speak to our fears, not mercenaries that will act silently in their own interest, overload us with numbers and data we don’t have the capacity to respond to, and then tell us we deserve to suffer. I think we can all relate to a moment or several when facts are not helpful on their own in mitigating some of our fears.

The way I can contribute now and after the election tomorrow, as a fact checker and a researcher, is to listen and bring light to the stories that wont be told if we allow traditional power structures to dictate how we record history. If nothing else, 2016 is a year where business as usual was not enough. We need to listen and record the fears at their roots, talk about where we are as communities, and find a way to heal together. I’ll be running around with a notebook in the back to make sure these stories aren’t lost… and then when we have ALL THE FACTS, we thrive in a fact based system.

Artwork by Safwat Saleem. This is his TED Talk that I still think about daily, especially as I conduct research. 

Fear of Fat

I get more out of this talk every time I watch it. If you haven’t seen it, please enjoy a quiet lovely moment with me:

Today, I am most appreciative of the conversation she wants to have about the “feedback” media/”concerned friends” have for people who are any version of overweight. I appreciate this talk alongside the conversations happening over twitter describing weight/height to add context to our conversations about weight and what it means to be healthy. I appreciate the honest conversations about the flaws with BMI as a measurement for who is “healthy” and who is “not healthy” on that scale, removing important context.

It’s hard to watch communities where girls as young as 12 decide it’s time to start dieting and seem themselves as “ugly” or “deformed” because they don’t fit the “perfect profile and measurements.” There is some absurd idea that all bodies, if starved or fed correctly, will eventually look the same. They don’t and they won’t. I appreciate the context this speaker brings to what it means to be comfortable in your own skin and find a rhythm that makes sense for you in your own body — that whatever other people have to say to you is advice, and ultimately what “advice” you accept is yours and yours alone to decide.

I think often of something a friend told me once:
“Your body is the cheapest gift you have ever received,
and the most expensive gift you’ll ever have to return.”

I love the opportunity she presents to celebrate our own bodies for their strengths, instead of constantly comparing ourselves by our weaknesses. She provided me and so many others with a quiet, happy moment to be grateful for how amazing life and human bodies really are. I love this talk, and I am so grateful to this speaker for her bravery to face a difficult topic head on.

It reminds me of the body image salon we hosted over the summer. I shared it with the group from YouTube before our chat, and people shared the quiet personal moments they had that made them reflect on their bodies differently. I love these quiet moments.

Fall 2016: Salon Schedule

I’ve been running a salon for women interested in reflecting together for the last four years. We hoped this experiment could lead to a cool network of women interested in answering difficult questions, continuing with their research after college, and supporting each other through life transitions. It has been all of that for me for years, I am very grateful for this community we’ve built together.

To make this easier for new salon leaders, I am posting our fall/winter schedule and topics, maybe to inspire some of their own discussions. I will update it with our readings in case you want to follow along on your own.

Sunday Sept 25: Family and Community

Questions we’ve been playing with:
– if we’re moving past the mom+dad+2 kids+dog in a white picket fence home, how has the definition of “family” shifted for you? Who do you consider to be your “family?”
– can your community become part of your “family?”
– who do you seek out when you need support?
Some thoughts on community:
Courtney Martin’s the New American Dream
And a really honest essay about one writer’s anxiety and the support system she built with her friends


Sunday Oct. 9: Death

Kaela’s Intro Email: I had originally been inspired to add this as a salon topic because of IDEO’s event series about death back in May. I realized that I had never really had any long conversation about death with anyone in my life.
There are many ways we could go on this, but we thought we could spring board off of with the idea of ‘what does it mean to be alive versus dead?’ and ‘how do the dead in our lives “live” on once they’ve passed?’
A few things to get your brain moving:
From Diana herself (On Day of the Dead, Memory, and living profiles)
A TED talk about how other communities engage with the dead/death
This group and this other group who are also trying to open conversations on death
And a great insta post shared to use by Connie (who also gave us a few of the links above!)

Sunday Oct 23: Grief

Our questions (brought together by Kaela and Connie)
Thinking about before and after — how do you change before and after you grieve? What does grief bring and how do you build through it?
And how do we deal with the timeline of grief? We have heard of all the stages – but what about the days you feel like you “should feel better” but don’t?
A few readings: 


Sunday Nov 6th: Transformation

“Human beings,” Harvard psychologist Daniel Gilbert observed…, “are works in progress that mistakenly think they’re finished.”
Let’s talk about Transformation. There are two questions that we’ve been playing with her that we’d love to hear your reactions to:
1) How do we know when we’ve “transformed” from someone we were or thought we were into a different version of ourselves?
2) And is this transformation really just a chance in perspective? Or is it like shedding a layer of armor and taking up something different?
Some Media:
Maybe change is like the Tower in Tarot (it’s meant to show the destruction at the end before a significant change. You can see it as “doom” and “disaster” like this image depicts, or it can be an opportunity for something new and exciting)
If it is about our perspective, maybe we can rewire towards optimism… I always seems to come back to Carol Dweck’s “Growth Mindset” too
And finally, sometimes relationships transform when we are able to ask questions. In light of this election, I related to this and it helped me feel better, like we can heal after Tuesday.

Sunday Nov 20th: Gratitude (Family style thanksgiving) Dinner


Sunday December 4th: This Is Water: Ta-Nehisi Coates’ Book Discussion
Dec 18th: Holiday Party


Sunday January 8th: Men Explain Things to Me
Sunday January 22nd: Anger

More to come! Please send me questions/readings/thoughts, as they occur to you.

Header photo credit: Pedro Ribeiro Simões on Flickr, http://bit.ly/2d9A8QQ

An ode to cover letters

Cover letters can be beautiful, wild creatures.

Abused by formality and “advice,” a quick google search suggests that cover letters should be stale, formal language expressing one’s resume with some transitions between the content listed in bullet points. Please, no.

I hear from friends in banking that cover letters written with the right sequence of key words will get picked up by the screening algorithms and recommendations selected to weed out the “bad fits.” This turns the cover letter into a two part project: write the secret message of code words AND tell me about yourself. Good luck.

We read numerous cover letters from potential interns on our team at TED, and I am regularly surprised by how uncomfortable many of them are. I understand why. If our instructions just say, “send a cover letter” and “tell me about yourself,” it’s unclear how formal or “out there” you’re allowed to be.

I invite you to be unapologetically yourself.

The best cover letters, the ones that make me smile as I am trying to get through hundreds of applications in a handful of breaks during the week, tell me something that summarized work and academic experience on a resume cannot.

The language tells me about the voice of the person writing to me. Do you love the experience of words? Do you like the technical strength of your specific words? I love the sequence of sentences, what the writer decided they HAD to tell me first and how they wanted to conclude, tells me about the writer’s dreams and mission. I especially appreciate the questions that the writer needed me to remember to understand their personal quests.

The cover letter allows you to share a vignette with me. Who are you now, in a scene? Who are you becoming, who, within yourself, have you forgotten?

Or maybe you’re like me, and my cover letter guides you through the questions that lead me to tying knots in the cord of my headphones with one hand as my other ink-stained wrist dashes across my notebook scribbling down every fleeting moment of logic before it scurries away. These questions live in my notebook, and I never leave that notebook behind. Keys, phone, wallet, notebook. I never leave the house alone. I am questions.

Who are you now?

Who are you becoming?

Who, in yourself, have you forgotten?

You are more than a letter, or a scene, or your questions. But your letter is meant to be just a moment. Please, share that moment.