Community, Refugees and the Future of Good Will

Piles of donations began to collect outside Goodwill locations throughout the GTA Sunday.  Employees told CBC News they were blindsided by the lockout.

A crudely printed sign in the Richmond Street east storefront in Toronto said simply that the store was closed "due to unforeseen circumstances."

I don't know enough about Goodwill's situation to know exactly why they are in the position they are in.  What I do know is that across the board, there has been increased pressure on non-profit and charitable ventures to become financially self-sustaining on their own right - ie, to stop relying on handouts and spend more time and effort on revenue generation.

Which, really, defeats the purpose.  

Organizations like Goodwill tend to serve clientèle without the means to be self-sustaining on their own; if they were, they wouldn't need organizations like Goodwill, and there would be no need for organizations like Goodwill.

In the past, organizations like this would get lump sums to spend, and do drives, and the simple fact that they were community-benefit organizations was enough to justify the money they got.  As funding has gotten tight, however, more attention has been paid towards "impact investing" - ie, making sure that money that goes to organizations like Goodwill demonstrably make a difference.

There's also been a shift in focus from funding organizations to funding projects, and even narrower down to specific outcomes.  Funders want to see the needle move on specific KPI (key performance indicators), and they want to know in advance that they money they spend will deliver short-term ROI (return on investment).

Of course, that's what's on paper.  In the real world, people remain people and connections, marketing and hustle matter more than direct results.  A well-written report carefully promoted through a targeted outreach/media campaign can nurture the impression that magic has been worked, when in reality, the truth is more like a bit of water has been shovelled from here to there.

It all paints an interesting picture.  

True, the previous model of community good tended to take a white saviour complex approach, providing stuff for marginalized communities in perpetuity, without a real concrete plan of how forced obsolescence (by empowering communities to be self-sustaining on their own).  Partially, this stemmed from a belief that "they" would always be dependent.  The nature of the model encourages this approach to a large degree from the service employee side - if you get into a service agency, you can have a stable career doing for others what they can't do for themselves, 

Now, as the wells of funding are drying up, organizations that theoretically want the same outcomes - support for the communities they serve - are competing for funding and often spending a lot of capital and energy on positioning themselves for success more than the end-user.  You might thing, from a free-market perspective, that this is a good thing; services compete for resources and the best provider wins, meaning the best service gets offered.

This isn't a systematic thing, though, and not enough attention is being given to the big picture.

When small, disorganized not-for-profits compete for funding or apply for whatever funding they can get, they stray from their original mandates.  Or, they fold, and the people they serve are left without the service they once relied upon.  Meanwhile, the successful ones get more money and perhaps expand their offerings in specific, fund-getting ways, but too many services and people fall through the cracks.

And since no one is looking for cracks to fill when they're focused on low-hanging fruit, the structural challenges only come to light when they come to light in big ways - like the Danzig shooting, for instance.

There are a series of emerging structural issues that are being ignored by many, because no one is thinking systematically.  Objectivism is creeping into the system, and the consequences of this narrow frame of thinking are becoming clear.

That's the negative.  It's not all negative, though.

Truth be told, a lot of service providers haven't been as efficient as they could be - not with their internal management, not with their outcomes.  There is an absolute and dire need for public good service providers to be more strategic, more organized and more creative - and to work harder at putting themselves out of work by fostering sustainable communities.

It'll never happen - there will always be the need for charitable, community-good support - but we can definitely do better than we have been doing.

This is where social innovation, community benefit planning and incredible pop-up initiatives like The Clothing Drive come in.  What we've seen emerge in Canada as a response to the Syrian refugee crisis has been amazing - self-organizing groups are creating (and often re-creating) cool initiatives that at their best fill gaps and create wholly new models of support.  

Free retail stores for refugees?  Professional qualification assistance for transitioning new Canadians to be economic contributors in their fields?  Building bridges between existent communities and new neighbours through art and music?  It's incredible.  Best of all, a lot of it is being organized independent of older models and the challenges they face, meaning that these new groups are creating new models that are more reflective of the world at this moment in time, not 50 or 60 years ago.

Not all of these initiatives will stick, nor should they - but as some of them build partnerships with the private sector and start cooperating with government, I feel like we're witnessing the emergence of a new public good sector that will work in an entirely different way than the old one.  

Imagine corporations giving a bit of space for community benefit, and getting tax write-offs for it.  Or employees being given hours of paid work to volunteer for organizations like this, or offering professional services like management or legal aid or media/marketing.  The groups themselves can keep their overhead low and spend more time focused on the service they provide rather than keeping themselves afloat.

There's structural change afoot - it will be painful for some, and there will be structural challenges with some serious repercussions, but there are promising new ideas and models emerging that might just readjust the system to tackle some of these structural/cultural flaws in the long run.

Interesting times, indeed...

Perchance to Dream...

The official said Mr. MacNaughton will be aided by his spouse and business partner, Leslie Noble, an influential figure within the Ontario Progressive Conservative Party, who can reach out to the Republican-controlled Congress.

“Regardless of who wins the presidency, Congress will be run by the Republicans, and Leslie will be able to help in making the case for Canada on Capitol Hill,” the official said.

MacNaughton is an old-school Liberal, well-respected within backroom circles.  He's pretty tight with Trudeau's Chief of Staff, too.

As is his wife, Leslie Noble.  It might seem funny, but while I learned a good deal about how the system functions (and doesn't function) from David, Leslie was far more of a mentor - I learned a good deal about how to work the system from her.

One's tight with the Liberals.  The other is tight with the Conservatives.  Both know how to speak to elites on either side of the spectrum.  And both are tight with key folk in the PMO.

Think about the back-channel potentials in this for a second.  Think about the influence the PMO theoretically could have for nudging domestic partisans and for building bridges or at least framing issues in a positive way south of the border.

Then, throw Open Government into the mix.  The people behind that on both sides of the border are collegial, too.

Interest dynamic, is all.  And one worth paying attention to.

What are we holding on to?

"We think they hold on for their families," he said.

This line is going to haunt me for a while.

Periodically, people ask me how it is I stay positive, how I stay focused on what can be instead of wallowing in what isn't, how I keep going when it can often feel like I'm shovelling water.

The most honest answer would be "I don't."  I have my dark moments, just like everyone, and probably darker than most on rare occasions.  To steal a quote - my doubts are for myself.  I know that people aren't asking to find some magic tip or strategy - ultimately, what they want to know is that there truly is something worth fighting for.

Which, ultimately, is what hope is.  

That is what so many people are looking for.  When they think they've found it, they throw it against the wall, put it under the microscope and sometimes just walk away because they are afraid that it might not be real.  It can be really hard to believe that hope can be anything more than a delusion.  

The notion of putting your faith in and being vulnerable, completely vulnerable to an idea that's about as tangible as a thin ray of sunlight on a cloudy day is frightening.  We don't want to take the risk of hoping that things can be better because the disappointment of finding out we were wrong, silly, naive to do so is terrifying.

I live in the same world as everyone else does.  I see the same realities, hold the same conversations, read the same headlines.  

And I don't just hope that things will be better - I know they will be better.  100%.  In fact, there are countless amazing, inspiring stories out there right now that show hope is always, always present. Yes, there is war, strife, bigotry, famine, genocide, injustice and all the rest of it in the world.  Yes, there are some truly frightening scenarios emerging out there - everything from the frictions between global communities as the world becomes a more integrated place to climate change.  The world of 2067 will look a lot different than the one we recognize today.

Yet the basics of humanity have never, ever changed - kind deeds, shared moments, helpful neighbours, all the the good that is embodied by that most universal of directives, do unto others as you'd have them do unto you.  Except it doesn't need to be prescriptive; we don't need to know there's a win for us on the other side.  We just need to be human, and the rest happens by default.

We need to believe in ourselves.  We need to recognize others as being just as human as we are, with the differences a matter of software, with most of it being helpful for our own growth just as what makes us unique can benefit them.

It's a bit like being a parent, or being a child - both are teachers, both learn from each other and help the other grow into new roles in life. Particularly at this moment in history when the individual has often been reduced to gears in the economic engine, appreciating how a child sees the world can remind us of what really matters.  And of course, parents have a wealth of experience from which children can learn and adapt from to navigate the world and make it their own.

What is the special relationship between a parent and a child, or a couple, or friends, or partners? That bond which enables us to see the health and happiness of a wholly separate person as critical to our own well-being?  It's not a transaction.  It's not a strategy.  It's a state of being.

That state of being, of course, is love.  To love someone else is to put them first; to support and relish their victories, to be heart-broken and supportive at their losses, to be grateful for their very being.  It isn't to pander, or to not challenge, but always to nurture, even when the best way to nurture is to let go.

To love another is to make a sacrifice - but only when that love exists in a vacuum.  When love is reciprocated, and shared, then balance is found.

Love if faith and faith is the cornerstone of hope.  When you love others as you would love yourself, you seen in them the best of what humanity has to offer - something that is, truly, divine.

That's when it becomes clear that hope isn't an external fantasy, but an internal manifestation of that thing that binds us all together, whether you think of it as a feeling or a force or a greater consciousness.

What do I hold onto that keeps me going?  

Family.  It's as simple as that.

And my family has no borders.  You, in fact, are family.

That's my secret.

How can I not be hopeful when I know we're in this together?

Yes, And - Settling New Syrians

These new arrivals will doubtless integrate successfully, too, just as the 380,000 Arab Canadians who came before them have. But the Trudeau government will need to ensure that language training, housing and jobs are available for the new arrivals, without letting them jump to the front of any queue.

Ibbitson rightly gives credit to the Canadian government for stepping up and doing the right thing and so far managing the tricky balancing act of doing so in a way that doesn't blow up in anyone's face.

Fortunately for them - though not surprisingly - this isn't a challenge they've had to tackle alone.

In addition to sponsoring refugees and donating time and money to service providers, community groups across Canada have mobilized in creative, powerful ways.  Professionals are donating their services. businesses are donating space.  Groups of every day citizens are banding together, organizing clothing and backpack drives and inspiring other groups to form and do similar things.

Maybe this is what's happened with previous waves of refugees, to some degree - but this is the first time the Internet, Facebook and the like have been available to support and coordinate efforts.

Which isn't to say more coordination can't be done to better harness the good will and talent that's circulating out there, to say nothing of existing services.  This is actually a problem, as well-meaning folk recreate the wheel or confuse the process with the best intentions.

Funny enough, this reality is a microcosm of what's happening at the macro level with traditionally closed governments, service sectors and the like recognizing the need to collaborate better to be properly effective.

A team of us are working on a digital solution to help coordinate and empower the grassroots efforts around new Canadian settlement.  I have no doubt that this tool will have broader applicability down the road.

The Obnoxious Bully

Being LOUD and MEAN and HATEFUL is certainly the best way to get noticed in the Internet Era, true.

 It's not just true of the Internet Era - it's an historic fact of life.  Except to speak to the obnoxious curs themselves, what they're actually being is VOCAL and ASSERTIVE and REALISTIC.  

History is written by those who wrest the pen from the person who invented it, right?  Whether it's the bully in the classroom or the bully at the State level, bullies are always at the centre of things - because they simply can't have it any other way.

The sad part is how institutionalized this is.  We encourage bullies.  The guys who demand the corner office - because they're worth it, doncha know - are the ones who get it.  The toughest, loudest, most aggressive - the alpha, in other words - is expected to be the safest bet to hand over our security and management to.

In terms of the negative, North Korea exists because it's an irrational bully.  ISIL has exceeded to the extent they have for the sole reason that they're willing to go a step further than anyone else to get what they want.  The Nazis were the same.  It can't, and won't last, but for the foreseeable future, being a bully will continue to bear fruit.

It isn't until individual agency, humility and pro-social foresight are predominant in our gene pool that the bully will be neutered.  

We're getting there - it's just taking a really damned long time.

Guess what? You know some Arabic already

In the town where I grew up, there is a perpetual debate about the fairness of bilingualism.  An underlying theme is that English is the dominant language, one even francophones understand, so it's really pandering to special interests and impeding unilingual anglophones to insist some positions, like doctors, be bilingual.  A sense of cultural loss also fits into that.

This is a big thing in Quebec, too, where the preservation of "pure laine" French and culture is seen as a battle for survival.

As the idea of learning Arabic or more about Syrian culture creeps into the conversation around onboarding Syrian refugees as new Canadians, similar themes of cultural erosion, imposition and that shadowy fear of The Other conspiring to replace our language, culture and customs with their own are surfacing.

Which, to me, is bananas.  

Language isn't static.  Culture isn't static.  To try and shut out external words and ideas is like trying to keep your genepool pure through inbreeding.  The results aren't purity, but weakness and eventual collapse.

Besides, the things that we try so hard to preserve unchanged are themselves only snapshots in time of change.  French is a bastardization of Latin, which itself incorporated words from other language, including Arabic.

English is even worse - it's a crazy amalgam of words, concepts and differing grammatical rules from Nordic, Germanic and Romance base languages.  

That's how languages work; they evolve, they adapt, they incorporate, they lose - they evolve.  They're meant to change.  Lots of factors can impact how and why a language changes - colonization is a huge factor, as is immigration, but trends play a role too - as does innovation.  If you've ever had a rendez-vous or googled someone or eaten sushi, you have essentially been a willing accomplice to the bastardization - or evolution - of the English language.

Back to Arabic.

While the popular, ignorant narrative looks at Arab-speaking people/Muslims/brownish skinned people as barbaric (a word derived from Ancient Greek), the truth of the matter is that the Arab world has played a massively important role in the evolution of science and culture.

The English language has been a happy recipient of many terms and concepts that originated in Arabic.  Which means that learning Arabic is less of a new thing than you might think:

ADMIRAL - from the Arabic word Emir.

ALCHEMY - which is a predecessor to CHEMISTRY. Both Arabic.

ALCOHOL - who'd a thunk it, right?

ALGEBRA - of all the things people worry about being imposed upon them, they keep missing this one...

ALGORITHM - a name turned into a concept.  Kinda like Google.

It would kill American xenophobic gun-nuts to know their ARSENAL of weapons has Arabic all over it.

AVERAGE - which comes from a word for "partially damaged".  I find that funny.

CANDY, CARAT, COFFEE, COTTON?  All Arabic.

LEMON and LIME?  MAGAZINE and MONSOON?  Same.

Ever sit on a SOFA eating something doused in SUGARy SYRUP?  You've been enjoying some Arabic roots.

See?  You know some Arabic already.  Some of your favourite things, or things you take for granted, have Arabic origins.  

Of course, words are different than values, which is where the argument will go next.  Sharia, extremism, mysogyny and whatnot will be raised as "over there" things we don't want imposed here. Except, those are all things that exist in domestic forms already.  And ironically, many of those who come here from elsewhere are trying to get away from the systematic forms of oppression that we say we don't like (and in many cases, actually do) over here.  Ideally, what makes what we have special is a robust democracy that helps strike balance between standardization and special needs.

As it happens, beneath culture and values and language is a core truth that is universal; the understanding that we are all human, all neighbours, and that we all flourish when we treat others as we would like to be treated ourselves.

It's funny, isn't it?  We focus so intently on the differences, on jockeying for position and superiority and whatnot that we easily forget the basic truth that we all want the same thing - and we can only have it when we strive for it as one.

The Force Awakens

Like many of my generation, the Star Wars franchise has been a force in my life for as long as I can remember.  The original films are among the first I remember seeing; the toys, the first I recall playing with.  As a child, I slept between Millennium Falcon sheets and fantasised about being in that galaxy with Luke's powers and lightsaber, but the ell-travelled coolness of Han Solo.  Over the years, I've dropped my share of Star Wars references in everything from casual conversations to political speeches.  I was even inspired to create my own galaxy and cast of heroes - a tale that I've yet to share broadly.

When I went to see The Force Awakens on the twenty-fourth with my father, brother and son, it was more than an afternoon at the movies; it was nostalgia, escapism, and as is very much the case with the saga itself, a family experience.

I didn't go into the movie expecting to be wowed.  Star Wars isn't meant to be Inception, nor should it be the Matrix, or Avatar.  It's a galaxy with its own codes and rules that one visits, like a favourite travel destination; the familiarity of that world is a large part of its charm.  One visits with the expectation of exploring different facets of the familiar through the years, and that the space itself will change - at least a little - with time.  I didn't love it; if anything, I was quickly reminded that the Star Wars magic has never been in its plots points or dialogue.  Having said that, I was happily surprised by much that I wasn't expecting would offer unexpected twists.

To this I owe a debt of gratitude to JJ Abrams and the folk at Disney who worked so hard to create a culture of respective silence around the film - so effective were their efforts that Apps were developed to help protect people from what they didn't want to know.

Part of the real treat, the raw experience for me was sitting with my father, brother and son, between the wistful nostalgia of a grandfather who remembers seeing Episode IV in theatres with his eldest and the unashamed excitement, fear and ultimately hope of his grandson experiencing Star Wars on the big screen for the very first time.

Despite what you might have read, The Force Awakens isn't a rehash of A New Hope. It hits a few of the same beats, but does so with intention and, as was the case with Spectre, isn't afraid to be self-aware of that fact.  The most important function of the movie was to make fans feel comfortable that they were returning to that place they loved through Episodes IV, V and VI; mission accomplished. Bad Robot and co didn't stop there, though - nor did the brilliant Mouse House marketing team that reeled us all in.  Several things that were teased in the trailer were intentional red herrings, implying arcs that didn't exist, but making the turns the story did take register all the more.

Overall, I felt the emotional weight I was supposed to at the expected times; only one returning character was a disappointment, and the hoped-for threat posed by another character will hopefully materialize over the coming films.

Beyond this there were plenty of surprises of the whimsical dewback variety - they don't really serve any essential plot-point, but they help add texture to the Star Wars universe.  Some of these characters and movments worked, some were less effective, though even some of the lesser-effective whimsical moments were meant to be followed to the last beat for their efficacy to materialize.

The story was what it needed to be - it got our characters in place to hit the ground running for the next two episodes, giving just the right character beats and moments necessary to give them the complexity they need if we're to care about them.

Everything we see in The Force Awakens is majestic - carefully framed, physically present and lit for impact.  There are no toss-away gestures; everything reveals something, about the universe itself if not specifically for the story at hand.  And the chase sequences are pitch-perfect, exactly what I wanted them to be.  And, the BIG lightsaber battle gave us something we've not previously seen in the previous instalments - consequence.  You kinda know who's supposed to win, but that win is earned.  It was perfect.

A bit on the characters.  I think Harrison Ford gets the best compliment he could want - he earned his billing.  This rendition of Han was absolutely true to the character that first made Ford famous, and I think his performance here makes it clear why Disney feels a backstory film is a good idea.

Chewie actually got some more room here than he's been previously afforded, giving us more insight into his quirky, bear-teddy self that ever before.

Leia mailed it in a bit and was easily the weakest performance in the film.

Daisy Ridley and Adam Driver have rightly gotten great reviews for their performances, which are prefect and appropriate for their roles.  both offered surprises, almost inverting the expectations we should have for Rey and Ren.  I walked out of the theatre wanting to see where their characters go from here, which is a good thing.  John Boyega - I seriously want to know this guy in real life.  He's so enthusiastic.  If someone else had played Finn - say, a 20 year-old Mark Hamill - I would probably have hoped he got killed off.  Boyega makes Finn work to the point where he becomes the true underdog hero, the one we more realistically would hope to be under similar circumstances. His performance and his arc make it clear that his actions have real consequences.  More of this, please!

Poe Dameron is the closest thing to a Star Wars Deadpool, with the quick wit and almost meta sense of the game going on.  That Poe can be equally Han Solo smart-ass and Luke Skywalker all-in noble hero while still giving a bit of a wink to the audience is credit to an incredible performance by Oscar Isaac.  BB8 was the happy puppy you expected him to be.  Captain Phasma... yeah, I hope that character gets some ass-kicking to do in the next one.  She really needs to step up.  

Domhall Gleeson's has faced some criticism for his critical scene; where others see scenery-chewing, I see a very relevant, relatable and chilling anger boiling to the surface.  It totally worked for me and hints uncomfortably at too many real-world allegories, both historical and present day.

My favourite new inclusion, though - Maz Kanata.  

Having worked really, really hard to avoid spoilers, I had know idea what to expect from her character going in.  I knew she was a pirate, and she clearly had some inside-baseball info based on her lines in the trailer.  She was the unexpected highlight for me and I can't wait to get more from her down the road.

Kanata's quirky personality, the hints at her backstory and Lupita Nyong'o's brilliant performance - I fell in love with this character almost instantly.  She has just the right hints of Yoda, but also feels like your Scotch-drinking grandma or Leonard Nimoy buying milk in his pjs.  And she's a believer.

Even better - Maz Kanata almost single-handedly undoes the gobbledy-gook about midicholorians that took the magic out of the Force at the same time as making it a genetically exclusive club.  So far as we know and see, Kanata is not a Force-user; she doesn't have the precious midichlorian count to make the team.  Nonetheless, the Force is something real and magic to her, something she clearly understands at a deep level.  If her only gift is long life, then her grasp of the magic that surrounds us and penetrates us and bind the galaxy together is something we can all aspire to.

Star Wars needed that; as much as good can always trump evil, even those with humble beginning can change the course of history.

There you have it - my first impressions.  I will probably go to see it again in theatres, which says a bit more.  

Not everything is sunshine and roses, but I'm glad to have been back in that long-ago galaxy and look forward to seeing what else is revealed in our next adventure there.