Solution Labs of the Americas

I am ridiculously privileged to travel in a variety of circles and sectors, meeting amazing people from all levels of communities both global and grassroots.  

This week, I am attending the International Economic Forum of the Americas Toronto Global Forum at the Royal York.  

Last month, I was at Civics Design Camp, organized by the amazing Studio Y alumni Meghan Hellstern.  

For the past few months I have been supporting Toronto Youth Cabinet's Chloe-Marie Brown as she turns the Toronto Grassroots Innovation Forum one-off policy hack into a pilot policy lab program that could fundamentally shape the way community consultation works in Toronto.

Studio Y, by the way, is an amazing fellowship program that provides young people the opportunity to develop the learning, leading and innovation skills our world is in desperate need of.

One of the reasons I think I'm afford this privilege is because of my recognized ability to connect the dots between what is and what can be cross-sector and cross-community.

As I've been thinking about the Toronto Global Forum and the discussion of wicked problems and the emerging potential for cool opportunities, I've found myself asking - if we have so many amazing people in one space, why don't we spend some time brainstorming some of these solutions, policy hackathon-style?

How would you do that, exactly?  Would the IEFA organizers be game to test out a hackathon as part of their agenda?  Could one happen concurrently at MaRS for TGF participants to pop by?

If we're discussing impact and potential action items from the community level (including advocacy to government for policy changes), how might we incorporate them into the mix?

Here's where I'm at right now - tell me what you think.

PHASE I

A modified or separate Studio Y-style program that recruits young leaders from Toronto's marginalized communities.

This program will find emerging leaders and train them in the art of facilitation, hustle, etc. with the goal of being animators, facilitators and problem-owners at a Solutions Lab of the Americas policy hack.  Much as was the focus of TGIF last year, these youth would work with IEFA organizers to align local problem focus with the themes to be discussed at next year's Toronto Global Forum.

Meghan Hellstern would be an amazing organizer of something of this; she's got the experience, the guts and an incredible team of organizers.  To be really inclusive, perhaps AIESEC and my new friend Atena Lombardo could be a partner, bringing in some facilitator/animators from other American countries.

Capital, space, mentors, etc. would be required, but as Studio Y is hiring a new director, now's a great time to explore the potential of this.

PHASE II

Shorten the traditional TGF agenda and leave some space - a day, ideally - at the end for a day-long Solutions Lab.  

It would follow more-or-less the same format as Meghan's Civic Design Camp and may feature, as Open Data Day TO 2015 did, an Idea Fair for social innovators in the same building. 

The facilitators from Phase I would have months of training under their belt and would lead participants through the process of conceiving/prototyping solutions to identified problems - ones discussed at the Forum, but with a local twist.  These solutions could be Apps, policies, programs, whatever the brain-trust involved in the process came up with.

PHASE III

The hack goes on.

Picture some of the brightest minds in the world sitting in a room together, full of energy, optimism and a sense of communal purpose following the main discussions at TGF, ready to roll their sleeves up and solve some problems.

Picture youth who often face great access barriers in trying to find social success leading world leaders in solving problems both global and local.  These newly empowered leaders would go back to their communities with a renewed purpose and new contacts to help bring hope and opportunity to their neighbours.

PHASE IV

Then, imagine a televised Dragon's Den review of the solutions with a panel of celebrity sector experts.  The winning idea(s) would have the support of corporate partners for a pilot project.

If the world tunes into sports games, and reality TV, would they tune in to something like this?  

Would local youth and world leaders collaboratively solving problems and being grilled by experts make for a compelling, nation-uniting viewing experience?

Personally, I think so.  Maybe Sean Southey and PCI Media Impact would agree.

There you have it - my morning ideation on how to design-think a program that solves problems, builds community, fosters new collaborations and breaks down socio-cultural silos.

And it took be about 10 minutes to write.

Think what we could accomplish if we committed to making this vision come true together.

Who's with me?

Andrew Loku

The shooting has renewed concerns about Toronto Police interactions with people experiences mental health challenges.  Multiple fatal shooting of emotionally disturbed people wielding weapons have led to inquests and resorts detailing how Toronto officer could avoid deadly force.

It's hard not to feel frustrated.

If Andrew Loku had been white, or female, would he be alive today?

If the police had known the building was affordable housing for people suffering from mental illness, might they have taken a different tact - or ensured they had a Mobile Crisis Intervention Team on hand?

Given the number of protests that have sparked south of the border with police killing black men, might the officers in question not have considered the media fallout of acting so quickly?

Or, following carding, is this further evidence of a real cultural problem within the Toronto Police Service?

It's the police's job to keep the peace, and yes, they have  a right to defend themselves.  Based on the details we have so far - and clearly, we don't have anything other than anecdotes - the in-the-moment risk was minimal.

So, is this a police training issue?  Is there a related concern about police having insufficient EDP (Emotionally Disturbed Person) management training?  Or, is it a matter of police being demanded to be too many things, and perhaps shouldn't be mental health interventionists in the first place?

I have, of course, discussed all this before.  There are clear and practical solutions that can be put into play, right now.

But they require people at various stations to admit what they're doing now isn't perfect and accept a fair amount of change.

And as they say, it's that which adapts that survives.

If Stephen Harper Were a Game of Thrones Character...

"It's an ethic of 'I am willing to burn the house down so I an down the lot,' explains Mike Casey, a veteran Democratic communications consultant based out of Virginia.  "Stephen Harper is willing to burn the house down to own the lot.  'I will bring a gun to a knife fight.  You can call foul while you're lying bleeding on the floor' - that is the kind of ethic.

Some might say he's Twyin Lannister, but I don't think that fits.  Twyin was more about the brand than Harper has ever been.

No, if I were to peg Harper as one guy from Westeros, it'd be this one.

Trouble at our shores?  Eco-terrorists, niqab, etc?  Harper creates fights and then positions himself as the only one who can keep us safe from conflict.  He divides and conquers with abandon, attempting to create and live by his own rules along the way (everything from cutting off the media to committee disruption manuals."

As his own messes grow, his tactics and pressure become more severe - because that's what it takes to keep winning.  

And the climb, don't you know, is everything.  Regardless of the fall.

How about the other guys?  Who would you peg the other leaders as?

Star Wars: Year of the Rat

Plus, the rebooted "Star Wars" franchise had already recruited several significant names from Asian cinema for December 2015's "Star Wars Episode VII" in the formidable form of Iko Uwais, Yayan Ruhian and Cecep Arif Rahman -- all seen in Indonesia's "The Raid 2."

The Mouse House recognizes the financial juggernaut that is the pan-Asian film-going audience, Chinese and beyond. If you want to expand your Asian market for big-bill films like, say, Star Wars, it's simply good business to put some Asian actors on screen to increase their appeal.

There's something both funny and deeply satisfying in this.  We've seen some pretty vocal backlash against the notion of a black stormtrooper or a woman lead in Mad Max: Furiosa Road.  The people raising their voices so vociferously tend to be neither black nor women; they're the sort of folk used to comfortably seeing themselves reflected as heroes or in positions of power and are perhaps somewhat uncomfortable about that dominance being challenged.

It's the worst kind of invasion; it's like Lefty Hollywood is opening the door and letting the barbarians in.  Or like that time Apple argued in favour of gay marriage.

How the people who argue that their traditions/genetics are superior while promoting free-market capitalism and dismiss marginalized populations as whiners square their fear of being supplanted on the streets, in the work place and even on screen by lesser-than ethnicities is a bit confusing, but hey - when you're ideology is simple and straightforward, there's not much that can alter it, is there?  

That's the big secret to competition - it's not necessarily about fighting the right enemies, so much as befriending partners.  

Evolution isn't about those who are the toughest, inflexible or violent - it favours those best able to adapt.

Which is why I'm not super worried about race wars or violent clashes between ideological progressive and conservatives.  It's basic Sun-tzu; the best battles are the ones won without ever setting foot in the arena.

I can't force you to believe this, but it is good business.

Trust me.

Trudeau and the Manufactured Economy

"We need to make sure that we're pitching Canadians' advantage over other countries to draw in global investment," he told CBC Radio's Afternoon Drive in an interview.

He probably knows better than I do.  Me, I think the expectation is increasingly that people want low-cost products that do the job.  Even items that tend to be as much about image as function - cars, for instance - people are increasingly looking for opportunities to spend less, not more.

Quality, yes, but much like government procurement, it's often the lowest-cost option that's going to be the winner.

Canada cannot and shouldn't want to compete where it comes to cheaper and less safe labour.  In fact, I'm pretty sure we'd have to change some laws if we wanted to be competitive that way.

Manufacturing isn't about working creatively - not traditional manufacturing, at any rate.  It's about accuracy, repetition and speed.  

If we want to harness creativity and high levels of education, we need a strategy that focuses on markets that demand those skills - advanced manufacturing, perhaps, but also coding, tech, innovative services and products, etc.

I'd love to see a strategy that does that.

Last Night in Albenga

The wine was a spumante, some obscure label that meant nothing to any serious Italian.  Still, it was wine, golden in the light with a swirling sweet taste.  I hoped she would approve.  Stella waited for me to pop the cork and then brought forward the glasses.  After the right explosion of sound and smoke the wine pooled into the bowls, splashing up to the brims.  I wiped the lip of the bottle, set it down and took the glass Stella offered.

I looked at her.  I wanted to speak, to say something poignant, but no words came.  Stella stared back at me with those Italian eyes of her, went to speak, said nothing.  Her eyes dipped towards her wine.

“What shall we toast?”  Stella raised her eyes again and found mine. Her glance was almost a challenge.

“Let’s just toast this moment.  You.  Me. The wine, and the discreet absence of time.”

Stella nodded, her full Roman lips parting with a smile.  While her front teeth were turned slightly, it was a beautiful smile.

“Poetic,” she replied.  “Salute.”

We clinked glasses and sipped the wine.  The bubbles worked their way into my sinuses as the sharp taste prickled my tongue.  It was dark outside the confines of our room and the air was firm in its February chill.

Stella sat down on the bed.  I took the chair from under the old desk against the wall, set it down with a creak and then sat facing her. 

The collar of her sweater dipped to show all her slender neck.  I knew she’d put it on for me.  Olive skin spilled out of that sweater, her finely-sculpted collar bones disappeared behind the thick black flow of her hair.  Outside, cars shuddered along ancient cobble streets the Romans had laid.  Beyond the city, the sea was soft and eternal as it lapped the shore.

Stella’s eyes fixed on me as she took another sip of wine.  The flaking white paint of the walls and the faded cream of the hostel bedsheets were ghostly against the fullness, the vitality of her.  I felt a sudden chill roll beneath my skin from my spine out to my fingers and felt ghostly as well.

“You know I’ve come to love you.” 

Stella’s voice was tight, but her eyes never wavered.  I took a long sip from my wine to blunt the edge of her words.  It hurt to look at her, those eyes, but I couldn’t look at anything else.

“It… it isn’t fair that you go.”

“I know” was all I could say.  In my mind, I was already gone.

Sweet lies suggested themselves to me – don’t worry, Stella, I’ll be back or why don’t you come with me, knowing full-well that she could not.  I swept such poison aside with another sip of wine.  I had sworn to be honest with her, nothing but honest, and that’s what I would do.  This time, I’d get it right.

“No”, I said, perhaps more bluntly than I’d hoped.  “It isn’t fair.  It probably wasn’t fair to let this happen at all.”  I smiled sheepishly.  “I guess I just couldn’t resist you.”

Stella blushed and turned her head down to one side, a sweet, innocent gesture that sweetly and innocently emphasized the curve of her breasts.  Feeling like the Great Bastard of the World that I probably was, I relished the gesture, recalled and anticipated the taste, the heat of her skin.  I tossed back the rest of my wine and refilled my glass.

“God, Stella – you don’t make it easy.”

“Good.” Her answer was sharp and her eyes went hard as she gave it.

“I guess it’s no easier for you, is it?”

“Aaron.  Please, tell me something.  I know you’ll be honest.”

She was right.  Knowing that eased the ache, if just a little.

“Anything, Stella.”

“Did you come to Italy with a plan to be with a girl?  For a, what do you say – a holiday fling?”

“It was something I considered, yes.”

“When we first met, what did you want from me?”

“Oh Stella.”

“Please, Aaron.  Tell me.”

I paused to put words to my feelings.

“When I first saw you at the club, dancing with your friends… the way you move is very sensual.  Sexy. You know your body so well, every inch of your gorgeous curves and how to control them.  The way you looked in that outfit… it was rapture.  Do you understand this word?”

“Yes.  Go on.”

“In that moment, I could only think about what your body would look like, taste like, how that body would feel pressing against mine.  I could picture those soft lips of yours whispering my name in my ear.  When our eyes met, I felt that you were thinking something similar.  Was I wrong?”

“No.”  Stella blushed with the admission.

“Stella, please don’t be like that.  There’s more.  When I asked you to dance I wanted to have you, yes, but then we started talking, and then we were sitting down to talk, and talked for hours.  It was amazing.  The way you paint pictures as you speak, the way you described the hills of Tuscana…”

“I love Tuscana.  So much space, freedom, like a body to explore every inch of.”

“Yes!  Like that, just the way you said that.  There was so much beauty in you, too, I wanted to know it all.  Inside and out.  And you wanted to know me, too.  But when I went to kiss you, you put your fingers to my lips to hold me back, but smiled at the same time.”

“I did it as much to control myself.  I wanted you, I didn’t think I could stop myself.  It frightened me.”

I didn’t know that” I replied as she blushed.  “It felt like you were in complete control – of me as well, I couldn’t resist.  You gave me your number and kissed me on the cheek, then you left.  That night all I could do was think about staying, for you.  I’m a backpacker, a tumbleweed – I’m not supposed to think of staying.”

 “But you did. You’ve been here a month.”

Stella could put such emotion into her voice. I closed my eyes and could see the her face looking at me filled with love, like the Madonna.  Her fingers grazed my cheek, gently bringing me back to the moment.  I opened my eyes to see her kneeling forwards on the bed, resting on one hand, her face close.

“Oh Aaron… my friends, they told me to watch out for you, that you only wanted sex.  I knew better.  If it was only sex you were after, you would have found someone else that night.  You wouldn’t still be here with me now.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“Here I thought your friends didn’t like me because I’m not Italian.”

Stella slapped my knee and laughed, a sound that rolled across the room like the waves on the shore close by.

“No, they thought you were the devil.”

“They were right.” I smiled my best, wolfish grin and kissed the back of her hand.  Shortly after I started courting Stella, one of those friends had taken me aside and explained she had recently been hurt by a boy who cheated on her.  Stella didn’t need a foreigner like me licking her wounds with a fleeting tongue.

The defensiveness felt like an attack and stung.  It was important to know, though.  It wasn’t until the end of the second week that we allowed our passion to erupt in a flurry of kisses and touches.  Even that had filled me up; we had gone no further, holding that taste in our mouths and savouring it.

We said everything with our lips and eyes, our fingers both exploring and texting the feelings growing within and between us. 

I had told Stella my flight home was coming up fast, but we both chose to ignore it and focus instead on the intoxicating love we were brewing.  Time would wait.  At least, it was good to think so.

Time ignored us and came anyway; in the morning, I would leave.  This night was all the time we had left.

I felt sad that it would happen in a paint-flaking hostel room and with a cheap bottle of Spumante. There was so much we still needed to share, to say, to feel together – all the things that could only be absorbed through osmosis over a lifetime spent together.  And I was leaving.  I felt the burn of truth in my eyes and licked them with hers.

“Stella, I am grateful this wasn’t a fling.”

“Aaron – what am I to you? What is this between us to you? Does it mean anything?”

“Too much.  Leaving is like tearing roots from the ground, but I have to.  I’ll go home, you’ll stay here.  I’m sure that somewhere down the road, we’ll have moved on with our lives.  But right now, I can’t feel it.  All I can feel is you and I don’t want to go.”

“Are you saying?”  There was desperate hope in her voice that shattered me like glass.

“No.  I did the long distance thing once, it was horrible.  And I’m not going to live in Italy. And I know you don’t want to leave, either.”

For the first time, Stella looked frail, like a blossom caught in the first snowfall of winter.

“Then… this is all we have?”  Her eyes began to water.  Picking up the pieces of my shattered self I went to her, wrapped her in my arms.  Stella’s control collapsed and she gasped in sadness, the warm tears pouring out onto her cheeks.

“Stella, no.  We will always have this, this moment” and my words sounded hollow in my ears, like brittle candy.  I shoved them aside and took her face in both my hands.  What needed to be shared was beyond the limits of words.

Our lips joined, tender at first but the stream hurtled forward and became a torrent.  There could be no barrier between us, and we tore away the layers of clothing and fear until we were revealed to each other completely.  With eyes open wide we joined, started directly into each other’s souls, salt tears of sorrow and joy staining our cheeks and mixing together sweetly.  We soared together and grasped each other and cried out as though in the embrace of death.  When it was done there was the sick feeling of things which have withered and died.  We held each other in the silence, warm where we touched beneath the cool air.

Stella got up on unsteady legs and dressed.

“Don’t”, she said.  “Please, don’t.”

With one last kiss she let go.  As I closed the door behind her, all warmth left the room.  My sleep was empty and stale, like the glass on the desk.  The air was still cold the next morning when I left for Rome.

Forget Moonshot - Let's talk Boss Fights: #WOW meet #OpenGov

Taking idea generation to the next level requires an in person component that can't be replaced by online platforms (not yet, anyway).

What Melissa is talking about here is brainstorming, solution-building at a scale that has here-to-for been impossible.  

At least, that's the case when government uses new tools in old ways, Plato's Desktop-style.

Which is why World of Warcraft is so interesting.  Forget moontshots - maybe what we need to do is look at Wicked Problems as boss fights, the big challenges we need to marshal our resources to beat but, when we do, new worlds of engagement opportunities open up for us.

Make Web Not War is already a thing - what would you call a World of Open that has a better acronym than "WoO?"  Me, I'm still a fan of Community of Civic Engagement.