• Published on

    MOHAI's History Cafe: Nathan Vass on Generationally Specific Behavioral Shifts in Communication (Video)

    Picture
    The Hope

    I wish the video could show you how packed the place was. Every available place to sit (and, in the back, stand, as many did) was taken. Wordstotime.com had me giving the speech in 72 minutes– but we got it out in 54 jam-packed minutes, and I’m grateful it went over as well as it did, especially given the pointed and specific nature of the material. (When all the copies of the
    bibliography of a lecture go like hotcakes… what can I say but thank you!!) The comments afterwards from folks young and old about how the evening put a name to their daily concerns, reinvigorated their appreciation of the value of knowing history, how addressing contemporary problems can be exciting and inclusive... I’m both thankful and pleasantly surprised. 

    Because hearing this data about your age group can be easy to take personally. I speak both for the audience and myself when I first encountered the research. It’s useful to remember we have a tendency to interpret facts emotionally, to take data in as something containing judgment. But facts aren’t judgments or opinions. They’re statements of the nature of existence, and they contain no agenda.

    My aim in presenting them was to package together what we usually hear in the context of disappointment as something else– a reason to get excited. What impedes my generation’s awareness of history, happiness, and value of real-world communication, and how can we– as individuals– address that? Problems don’t get solved by pointing fingers from the outside, but by creating generative positive momentum from within. 


    On Stereotyping


    If there was any ambiguity about these concerns, I wanted to clarify them here. Anyone more than passingly familiar with my work knows that casting a pejorative eye on others doesn’t interest me, and that generalizations are the opposite of my approach. Only someone unfamiliar with statistical analysis would accuse myself, Twenge or others of generalizing or stereotyping: stereotyping is the opposite of what such research provides.

    To stereotype is to presume an individual’s actions as representative of their culture group. Observing trends over big cross-sections of people using the scientific method is the best way to
    obviate stereotypes, not perpetuate them; we learn with accuracy which behaviors most, but not all participants in a study reflect. To say that more people in South Korea than in Germany know how to use chopsticks isn’t a stereotype; it’s a statistical reality.

    And in the same way responding to emotion with logic never works, reacting to facts with emotions only gets us so far. What I mean to say is– don’t take offense, contemporaries of mine. I like you. I 
    am as I imagine you are: another young person like and unlike these statistics. Just like the subjects in the scores of studies I source from, I am a young person who uses technology too much,  who wishes to make healthy decisions. Let’s continue to be who we are, and take care of ourselves.

    ​Enjoy! Click the PDF below for a detailed bibliography (also included at the end of the video).

    Special thanks to Brittany Rose Hammer for filming, editing and mixing this video, to MOHAI for allowing it and recording it, to Rachel Spence for everything, and to the audience for being as open and enthusiastic as they were.

  • Published on

    The Righteous Hustle

    Picture
    You remember John, of John and Valerie fame, from my book– the chapter called "Fighters and lovers, In and Out of Time." You can also catch us gabbing the afternoon away here. I usually see him as part of a group– a gaggle of friends, or with Valerie. Getting him alone is best though. Some people reveal themselves only in one-on-one conversations.

    “I'm out, man. I was over on 5th Avenue, hangin' with the boys over there." It took me a second to realize John was referring to the County Jail. "I'm out."
    "I'm glad you're out, man! I'm glad you're out. Nobody should be stuck in there too long."
    "It was terrible, man. But I stood my ground and took it to trial, 'cause I didn't do it."

    One second ago this was small talk. Now I was serious, made aware of the gravity of what he’d just gone through, what an impact it would now have on his life moving forward.

    "John, I'm really glad you did that. Instead of that plea bargain stuff they always try to get everybody to do."
    "Oh heellll no, no way plea bargaining. Can't believe they try to pull that shit on people, man, innocent people. Put a record on 'em."
    I threw up my hand. “It's inhumane! I'm so glad you put your foot down and went all the way through with it.”
    “Yeah.”
    “‘Cause sometimes you gotta take that risk. And it's a big risk, you know?”
    “Well I had to, man, ‘cause I didn't do nothin'! I was there. I was there when it happened, but that doesn't mean you did it!”
    “Exactly, doesn't mean I did it."
    "They still arrested me, try to get me to plead guilty.”

    “That's scary. ‘Cause then your life's over, man, they try to make it all attractive, we'll let you off with this, instead of jail time, but then you get out you can't get no job! And the whole time you know you never did it to begin with! Even though court says you said you did!”

    He shook his head. “That's how they get you. I just had to take it to trial ‘cause I know I didn't do nothin’. They try to get me to lie, I'm not gonna lie. I know what happened.”
    “Man, it's like they want people to have felonies!”
    “It's fucked up. It is. That ruins people," he said, staring into the middle distance. A face wrought with recent memories he was glad were no longer present.
    “They try to scare you with jail time. But you just gotta go for it man, that's how you get it done! I'm so glad you went for it. ‘Cause it's a risk! But you don't want that on your record.”
    “Well, if you insist on a trial you gotta be in for a couple of months.”
    “Which is terrible.”
    “Oh it was horrible. Man, I don't wanna say how long I was in there.”
    “But now you're out, and it's clean.”
    “I am, man, I am–”
    “And that's great.”
    “Man, it's always good to see you. We been knowin' each other a long time.”
    “It has been a long time!”
    “I ‘member first time I saw you on the bus to Federal Way, you had that beautiful lady with you. What had the brown hair and the eyelashes. I said to myself, he's got a beautiful woman with him. He got it goin’ on.”
    That was ancient history for me. I laughed. “Man, you've got a good memory. John, wow! That was ages ago!”
    “See, we been knowin’ each other! Young man!”
    “It's good to know you too!”
    “Family!”

    He exclaimed his appelations for me with a gusto both manly and endearing. I chuckled, sighing with relief and gratitude for his insight. What a stroke of fortune he had the head to think a few chess moves into the future. Pleading guilty reduces your options like nothing else. I'm so glad he made the moves he did, was able to make the moves he did, and that it turned out such that we had the luxury of complaining about injustice as free men, feeling safe and less lonely, living in the simple freedoms:

    Chit-chatting down the balmy hours of another Seattle Sunday.

  • Published on

    Our Lady III: Lows and Highs

    Picture
    No, the conversation didn’t have the urgency or desperation of our first, nor the celebratory airs of the second. But I like to think that’s what made it special: in its relative mundanity it represented the completed nature of her hurdles. Now, finally, we could sit around chatting about nothing. She was dresssed as before: a black khimar with a niqab over her face, a brightly colored pink dress beneath, and a walker.

    “Hey, you,” I said.
    “Hey!”
    I noticed her shopping bags and said in a winking voice, “Did you find everything you needed at Target?”
    “Well, let me tell you,” she began.

    I’ve got the luckiest job in the world. I can ask people with genuine interest how they’re doing, because, well, I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got time to listen to whatever their answer is. I settled into my chair as we continued down the road, ready for a story.

    “I was with my friend. She's American. We went to Target, I got my stuff, and I paid for my stuff in line.”
    “Sure, sounds good so far.”
    “Yes so far so good. But I didn't know she was trying to steal stuff from the store. She stole makeup, soap, hairbrushes. And the security came out and stopped both of us. And I explained.”
    “Yeah, you didn’t know, you didn’t do anything!”
    “They said even if you didn't do anything, if you were with her, you can be charged too.”
    “Yeah as an accomplice. Oh no.”
    “But I explained this has nothing to do with me. Look at my receipts. I didn't know anything. I'm going home now.”
    “Perfect.”

    And here she was now, at the positive end of the story. A tall, thin gentleman approached her, speaking in her language. He was trying to tell me something and wanted her to interpret. I knew him primarily as a benign but contrarian soul who drank too much in the evenings. 

    She turned to me, translating his words. “‘You are perfect bus driver.’”
    “What? Thank you! Thank you!” I was surprised to hear it from anyone, but especially him, who is usually on the awnrier side. She continued. “‘You very polite, drive really well.’” He repeated as much as he departed. I nodded gratefully. 

    “I’ve seen him around a while now,” I said to her after he’d left.
    “I've known him for nine years,” she said. “But ten years ago he had sex with a woman on the street, and he got HIV.”
    “Oh no!
    “Yeah. His family find out, his wife left him, his kids gone, he has nothing.”
    “Oh no. You know, they have medicine for that now.”
    “Yeah he takes it. Now he's so much better. He can live. His doctor tell him it's not even in his bloodstream anymore.”
    “Wow. I didn't know the medicine was that good!”
    “Yeah, ninety-nine percent. Maybe one percent you will catch it.”
    “Okay.”
    “But even so, I not going to have sex with someone who has HIV. I say, Baby, I'm not feeling it!”
    “Ha!”

    I felt such warmth from both of them. In their different ways they each have been dealt crushing blows by life, and come out the other end survivors. I was humbled that in their hardships they went out of their way to extend gratitude my way, I who am surely such an insignificant figure in their lives. 

    But as we all know, sometimes one smile can turn the day around.
  • Published on

    Nathan Converses With His Colleagues: About That 65

    Picture
    As in several of the posts in this series (see below), I’m sprawled out on a bus home after a long day working. I’m exhausted and happy, sitting near the front, chatting up the operator. Tonight we were talking about what drivers always talk about: schedules.

    “This one actually has pretty good breaks on it, right?”
    “You know, I haven't had any problems,” he replied. “And it's what, ten hours and change.”
    “Oh wow. Last shakeup this used to be a bonus time piece. They must've tacked on another round.”
    “Must have. Speaking of breaks though, I've been doing that 65–”

    Say no more, I thought. “Oh my gosh–”
    “Yeah!”
    “Isn't it terrible?”
    “They don't give you squat at either end!”

    Lots of drivers complain about schedules; I tend not to. I know it’s something I can’t control, like fare, so I let go of it. I just drive the route. But the 65/67 gets to even me– and him, for I knew the gent I was chatting with was similarly laid back– because that route’s murder on the body. It’s one thing to run late, but to be so late you’re seeing passengers on the other side of the street who are waiting for your bus, and you want to use the restroom… doing that for eight hours every day isn’t fun. No to mention a 70-block stretch where there's a zone about every two blocks.

    “It's just so weirdly timed,” I said. “They give you all this time to get from Northgate Transit to 75th, and then if it's peak they give you a bunch of time to get down to Light Rail, but once you get down there you're completely screwed going north on 35th. Completely!”
    “Completely! I actually filled out one of those forms and stapled the run card to it because I said, this is ridiculous.”
    “It's ridiculous! You can't get to QFC without being at least 8 minutes late, and it takes 8 minutes just to walk to QFC, plus walking back, plus actually using the comfort station–”
    “And you know they're not giving you 25-30 minutes up there!”
    “And with all those zones they have on 35th, there's no way you can– you just can't get up to speed.”
    “You can't.” He sighed. 
    “Yeah, that one's a bear. I used to, last shakeup I did the very first 65, it's like at 4:30 or something. Four o'clock in the morning, and I'm already running late! I'd be going reverse peak at Five AM, five minutes down, it's still dark outside.”
    “You know, there was this one time where I pulled out, and managed, miraculously, to get no passengers and no red lights even, all greens, everything, from the terminal to one of the early timepoints. And I was already two minutes late! And of course after that it just snowballed. All greens and no people!”
    “Oh my gosh. Because under those circumstances you'd think you oughta be early.”
    “Yeah.”

    Enough complaining. I tried to remind both of us of a healthier way to look at all this. “You know, there was this senior guy told me once, way back before we had any of this, once he got late, he'd put the runcard back in his pocket and just drive the route safely.” 
    My companion nodded, understanding. “Because why kill yourself.”
    “You know, I do the same thing! Once I know I'm gonna run hot, I change the DDU screen to something else, like the text messages or something, so I can't see the lateness. It works wonders.”
    “Because then you're just being safe.”
    “Instead of sort of, 'seeing red'–”
    “Yeah–”
    “–And getting pissed off at everything that holds you up. Else you're just gonna have a heart attack.”
    “You know,” he said, “I decided to change my focus. I decided to change my focus to, I'm gonna drive it legal.”
    “Yeah.”
    “If I get a yellow, I stop for it. I'm gonna take the turns at five, I'm gonna do this and that, not gonna try and cut all these corners. ‘Course I get really behind. But I just press that Late Beyond Recovery button. When I get to the terminal, of course there's no break, but I press the thing, I'm taking my union break just like it says on the runcard. Now, course I got totally slammed all night–”
    “Ha–”
    “But I felt great! I felt refreshed!”

    I knew just what he meant. “And you know, that's the best feedback you can give them upstairs.”
    “Exactly. All they see are the pie charts of look, these are running mostly on time. They don't know that you're busting your ass to get there. They think oh look, they're on time. And what we're doing to get there is just not safe. I was talking to Kevin about this, he said we are our own worst enemy.” 
    “Totally.”
    “And I've been telling all the other operators, just drive it legally. Or else scheduling's gonna think everything's okay."
    "It's the best feedback you can give. Just run it safely. Which in the case of the 65/67 means being horrendously late all night!”
    “Ha!”
    “And, okay I love your focus on let's do it legal. Because I mean okay sure, you get slammed–”
    “Uh huh–”
    “But I think you feel better, more relaxed, paradoxically, if you’re full but not rushing, as opposed to having a half empty bus but you're killing yourself to stay on schedule.”
    “Yeah. You're in a healthier frame of mind if you're full but taking it easy, instead of being half full while going crazy driving.”
    “And it's better for your body. You're not all tensed up.”
    “Yeah.”
    “And you know how sometimes, you end up catching up when you're not trying to? Like you're having a conversation with somebody, all of a sudden you're hot?”

    We laughed. You do what you can. You find a strategy. Some are healthier than others.

    ​---

    Nathan Converses With His Colleagues: Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

  • Published on

    In the Before

    Picture
    My favorite part of the 5 is the slight right onto northbound Fremont Avenue. You’ve just come all the way from West Seattle, through town, up Aurora, and now you’re coming down Fremont Way preparing for that dip and right, getting onto the uphill.

    Do it slowly, relishing how this moment represents the sheer size of everything you’re doing, majestically piloting this beast all over the intersection, a vehicle whose origin point is over an hour south of here, and you’ve still got the whole trip to Shoreline ahead of you.

    I love long routes, and something about this turn embodies the rich satisfaction of moving so many people such a distance. Maybe it’s the fact that you have to take the turn slowly, due to the angle of the roadway. The slowness reveals the massive, the significant. The 5. 


    I wonder if the fellow standing next to me on this cram-packed coach could sense my enthusiasm.

    “I'll be taking your next stop,” he said. A midtown office worker headed home to North Seattle.
    “Oh sure thing,” I replied. “Thanks for stopping in!”
    “Ha!”
    “Keepin’ tabs on me!”

    He got my humor, deadpanning, “You know, it’s a hard life. Going around making sure everyone's…”
    “I was starting to feel lonely up in here!”
    “Yeah,” he remarked, surveying the overloaded space. Must’ve been a hundred souls in here, easy. “You didn't seem like you had quite enough people.”
    “We were missing the crucial ingredient!”
    “Gosh, what a crowd.”
    “I know,” I said. “We got such a great turnout today.”
    “You're just so…”
    “I feel loved!”
    “They had so many options to pick from…”
    “And they chose me!! It's incredible to me really, the stream of humanity that comes through.”
    “All at the one time.”
    “Yeah.” More seriously now, genuinely marvelling. “And it just doesn't end. There was another 5 a couple minutes behind me, and that one was full too!! Which means in the space of this going by, and that one showing up, a while another crowd showed up! Just this endless stream of…”
    “Job security!!”
    “Ha!”

    ​We had no idea what the future held. And we would hardly have benefited from knowing. The nature of life is to enjoy the moment, or at least the recent past, while leaving room for the openness of futures unknown. There would be time for empty buses, civic strife and economic collapse later. We humans are blessed with the ignorance of linear time. Only in our blissful cloud of unknowing could he and I so fully together revel in life's simplest fleeting pleasures, "enjoying," as Goethe wrote in 1787, "all that is enjoyable."

    The passenger above had the gift of looking on the mundane with fondness while it was still happening, before things are reduced to memory.

    I hope I can keep up the same.

  • Published on

    Redmond Summer Reading Program: Meet the Author (Video)

    Picture
    Another quick video for today, this time my reflections on why the book is what it is, what its intentions are, and why I wrote it. Just under 6 minutes!
    Buy the book from Elliott Bay here, or from Third Place Books, here, or any of the other locations linked here. While I have the luxury to do so, I'm committed to supporting local bookstores (more on why here).

    Are you having trouble getting hold of the book? Email Chin Music Press at chinmusicpress@gmail.com– they're the ones who can get you more hard copies or (potentially) an ebook!