A static, in country force

A static, in country force can have a variety of missions: reinforce, rebuild, protect, retrain...the moral quandaries arise when decisions are made whom and how exactly to retrain.

In the hazy, unprecedented, post-9/11 era, fear became our reigning philosophy. Fear still manages to override the collective of other emotional varietals all too frequently within the policy arena. Few things are as addicting and powerful. But fear had been the weapon of control for countries with far less sophisticated forms of governance than ours, or so we thought. The trend of instilling in a populace blind distrust and abject horror towards an entire other race had previously been the grounds upon which to stand our moral superiority argument (see also the Kurds, Ethnic Serbs, or the Hutu and Tse Tse clash).

We had never done this (in fact untrue) we celebrated our melting pot culture (though truly we didnt). Institutionalized racism and marginalization are hallmarks of this nation since it's earliest times as a republic. From slavery through suffrage, tenement houses to internment camps, to separate but not so equal, to the AIDS epidemic and LGBTQ rights to (the return of) union busting, and now the "War on terror". War in and of itself is a terror. And while we're at it, let's check in on how the "War on drugs" and the "War on poverty" are going.

By only one measure have these wars done phenomenally well and that is to compensate the already well compensated. Obviation of cultural groups is required for this to happen: noone can be at the top unless someone first is at the bottom. But in its current iteration, those at the bottom are consequentially blamed for all of society's ills (be they at fault or no.) Along the arc of human history, this has happened repeatedly, and to satisfy ourselves with the whimsical platitude that the very same arc shall inevitably trend towards justice is a likely fallacy.

Whenever an economically empowered class, weaponizes a militarily empowered class, and these become judge, jury, and executioner of the underclass without the due process of law, that is known as oppression. Ferguson happened. Eric Gardner happened. Kimani Gray happened. Sean Bell happened. Amadou Diallou happened. Rodney King happened. The pattern continues.

This is a watershed moment. We can maintain this culture of fear,  or we can exchange the current cohort of undesirables for people that look, feel, and speak like the fabric of America. We can perpetuate a system of rulership that is predicated on objectifying subjugation, or we can seek to design and implement new systems. But we cannot hope to obtain system-wide remedies from archetypes who refute the facts of system-wide dilemmas.

The issue remains that the system itself is purposefully designed for segregation, submission, and subservience. Democracy is not democracy if it is only democratic for the few. Consequentially, as has been asked many times in Congress, a careful review of our founding document - specifically the part where it clearly states that if our system of government fails, it should be dismantled and reconstructed - is plainly in order. The situation in Ferguson is a symptom of a lingering, untreated, much more nefarious societal sickness. One against which inoculation is no longer possible as it has become a defining characteristic of American society. Before this latest issue falls by the wayside like so many other acts of senseless violence, let us now awaken the sleeping dragon of intercultural might to lead us through to a truer societal evolution. Now is the time for us to envision, embody, and encarnate an entirely new Great Society.

Here I am, back on the road again

At a certain point in history, I was constantly traveling. My parents lived in a different section of the country from me during my college years, when we were young, we went on so many road trips they simply became a matter of course. But for the past decade plus, my entire life has centered around the Bronx, and teaching, or translation/interpreting. For the past 12 weeks, we've been in a crucible - a container specifically designed to withstand fantastic temperatures, while at the same time allowing the metals within to compose a supposedly stronger, more resilient alloy. We've been tested, and tried, and not found wanting. Truly, we have woken up this morning to a much deeper understanding of the life process occurring around us, to a clearer perspective of our roles in it, and a renewed sense of purpose. Each of our personalities - all of us bringing worthwhile leadership qualities, - had begun to mesh, we each played off each other, we all contributed to make the classes we began and fought and worked through, the best that we could, and we had all come to rely on each others' strengths, become a unified team keeping each other afloat and keeping the communication very open, not unlike a Spartan phalanx.

And now we are off to widely disparate, very far away places.Many of us (including myself) have networks already where we're headed, and so will be far from alone. Though we won't be able to simply turn to a classmate during a budgeting issue and say "hey, how did we do this on the last case study?" Or, "I'm about to publish this OpEd, can you look at it real quick for me?" or, "Is this supposed to be a chi - squared analysis? Or a regression equation?" The process is a bit more difficult. Ah well. It's amazing how, despite our resistance, we've become so amazingly reliant on each other. I guess this is what Jim Collins is talking about when he suggests 'getting the right people on the bus'. Today was bittersweet: we were all excited for the new opportunities, sad that it won't be until January when we're all in the same space again.

And so, following the theme of a bit of song, Bob Seger:

Ranai

The title of the particular technique above is especially poignant for this entry, given that this week we've had a few major events. From the Japanese, the nearest literal translation is "Order from Chaos" - something that shows direct parity with our current state. On Monday, we finally heard our assignments for the coming year. I will be stationed in Washington, D.C. as a municipal functionary, along with no less than 4 other classmates in the same office. A total of eleven of us from this cohort will populate various Municipal, Non-Profit, and Federal agencies across the metro area, and I daresay that - in and of itself - will be an amusing adventure. That said, in a strange serendipitous twist, a good friend from high school, who's younger brother lives right inside the area, happens to have a place to rent me and so that was worked out with all due haste, and I don't have to worry about the landing pad when I get there. It remains to be seen whether or not I will manage to have time (or money, energy, or all of the above) to get back in the dojo while there. Stay tuned.

Adding to the chaos -> order progression was our reading this week of Jim Collins' book "Good to Great". Prof. Sermier's voice was a constant track in the background of my mind as I went through this book: in regards to executive pay, 'getting the right people on the bus', 'what is essential to the mission of the organization', but then, just last night, he told us this is the management book he would have written had he ever been given the opportunity to write one. My mind is filled with new concepts, and how they relate - connect all the dots - of all the points that we've been learning across the courses: The Hedgehog Concept, The Flywheel versus the Doom Loop. Buildup and Breakthrough, and the 'Stop Doing List'. In a few short hours, the fairly simple language in the book could easily be understood, and re-presented visually, as a road map for take companies from just successful, to industry leaders.

Now is the mad dash to find places to live, hunting for NUF alums from previous classes who are willing to lend a hand while we adjust to the new arrangements, and getting read to leave NYC while still trying to make sure that we finish our PAF 9120 papers due in August. I am almost completely decided on leaving my apartment and finding something else on the other side of the mentorship, unless, of course, they ask me to stay there, which is entirely possible. I'm slightly distraught at being forced to leave my pets with my sister, though, I suppose that's necessary for now. There has been much speculation about whether or not we will all make it through the various odd assignments, the research paper writing, the intense work schedule, etc, during the next twelve months. My personal feelings, following along with my budo training, is that work is work. You do what needs to be done, and reserve your deeper emotions for family life, and those close to you. Understand that statement means nothing at all about having passion for your work. We absolutely should, and it would be futile to enter public service lacking it, however, I hear several of my colleagues already becoming slightly unnerved by the prospect of what needs to be done. Having already been there - twice - perhaps I'm just a bit jaded.

Through all of this, one song has continued to play in the background of my mind for the past week. The Great Satchmo, Louis Armstrong: