Endless Knots

Champions of Freedom (House) 2008

Freedom House, which will be sixty next year, names "Champions of Freedom" each Spring. We celebrated last Thursday night here in Boston.

Pam Cross served as Mistress of Ceremonies,
here with her hubby, Ron Ancrum

THE ENVELOPE PLEASE

David Goodman (middle) received  a special award in honor of his mother, Dr. Carolyn Goodman, who, in 2002 was the first recipient of the Freedom House History Maker Award. Cynthia Bell (left) and Sarah Cleto Rial (right) accepted the History Maker Award on behalf of My Sister's Keeper. 

Paul Grogan accepted the History Maker Award on behalf of The Boston Foundation, where he serves as Pres and CEO

Dr. J. Keith Motley, Chancellor, UMass Boston, received the Ellen S. Jackson Award for Excellence in Education, as did the Boston School Reform Initiative.

And Richard Mintz, who worked with Freedom House founders Otto and Murial Snowden, accepted the Adrienne Williams Spellman Diversity Award on behalf of Mintz Levin.

And here are Freedom House Chair Emeritus, Gail Snowden, whose parents founded Freedom House, with her daughter, Lee Snowden Trimmier

 

An Easter prayer for Tibet by Jeff Stamps

My husband, Jeff Stamps, a long-time student of world affairs, politics, and Buddhism, wrote this piece, which I hope you will read.

An Easter prayer for the Tibetan people
and their spiritual leader
By Jeff Stamps

This Easter, my prayer is for the Tibetan people everywhere and for their spiritual and temporal leader, His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama.

This global spiritual force, with his inclusive religious mantra, is an intensely-trained monk from the distant nomadic steppes of Shangri-La, the “roof of the world.” He also runs a government-in-exile from a generously-provided sanctuary in India.

The Nobel Peace Prize apostle of non-violence, the Dalai Lama is the Gandhi of our time, albeit with more spiritual depth but fewer political skills. Since his exile, he has held the same “middle way” view: cultural autonomy for Tibet, but not political independence. Today, he struggles with both the oppression of his people by the Chinese and with the now-unconstrained frustration of Tibetan youth demanding independence. Among all of us who love Tibet for whatever reasons, we share a deep sense that time for the Dalai Lama’s “middle way” and Tibet’s very survival is running out.

By “Tibet” surviving, I mean Tibetans as an ethnic group with roots deep into pre-history, a people treated as racially inferior (“barbarians”), as a coherent religious group of Tibetan Buddhists, and as a national group of several millennia standing. For the Dalai Lama’s strategy of non-violence to work, the world must find ways to help Tibet and China find a path that provides Tibetans the cultural and local autonomy they require within the Chinese federal system of governance.

There are four reasons the world should care about the Tibetan uprising at this time: (1) the preservation of an ancient and abiding culture; (2) respect for a very old spiritual tradition; (3) the act of genocide; and (4) concern for the environment.

"Let soldiers blog, post to YouTube"

I don't know if Lt. Gen. Bill Caldwell is the first US Army three-star to say this but, with all that brass on his shoulders, he's got to be near the head of the line. Regardless, I reckon others will take notice.

In Changing the Organizational Culture, his article in Small Wars Journal, Caldwell writes that it's time for the Army to rethink its approach to the new media. Caldwell has some experience here: he was the person you saw in the Baghdad press conferences last year, speaking for the Multi-National Force [MNF, as he refers to it below]. Wherever you stand (or stood) on the war, what he's saying here bears reading, as he's proposing a new approach:

Recent experiences in Iraq illustrate how important it is to address cultural change and also how very difficult it is to change culture: After MNF-I broke through the bureaucratic red-tape and was able to start posting on YouTube, MNF-I videos from Iraq were among the top ten videos viewed on YouTube for weeks after their posting. These videos included gun tape videos showing the awesome power the US military can bring to bear. Using YouTube – part of the new media – proved to be an extremely effective tool in countering an adaptive enemy.

In a new and different world, one none of us was educated to reside in, we need new thinking in all areas. Next, I'd like to see General Caldwell blogging - or at least commenting on this post. My entreaties to him aside, the general goes on to list four areas where the Army should rethink its rules:

1. First, we need to Encourage Soldiers to “tell/share their story”...That is why we must encourage our Soldiers to interact with the media, to get onto blogs and to send their YouTube videos to their friends and family. When our Soldiers tell/share their stories, it has an overwhelmingly positive effect.
2. ...Leaders need to not only encourage but also Empower subordinates. A critical component of empowering is underwriting honest mistakes and failure. Soldiers are encouraged to take the initiative and calculated risk in the operational battlefield because we understand the importance of maintaining the offensive. However, once we move into the informational domain, we have a tendency to be zero defect and risk averse. Leaders have to understand and accept that not all media interactions are going to go well. Leaders need to assume risk in the information domain and allow subordinates the leeway to make mistakes.
3. Hand in hand with encouragement and empowerment is Education. If Soldiers are better educated to deal with new media and its effects, they will feel more empowered and be encouraged to act. We need to educate Soldiers on how to deal with the media and how their actions can have strategic implications. They need to know what the second and third order effects of their actions are. I believe that most people want to do a good job.
4. Finally, we need to Equip Soldiers to engage the new media. If we educate them and encourage them, we need to trust them enough to give them the tools to properly tell/share their stories. The experience of trying to gain YouTube access in Iraq and even back in the United States is a prime example. A suggestion for consideration might be equipping unit leaders with camcorders to document operations but also daily life.

NB: The title of this post is taken from a good article in govexec.com by Greg Grant.

Copenhagen by Michael Frayn

Tivoli Garden, Copenhagen, 3 June 2005, ducks talking to Danes

Copenhagen, the play by Michael Frayn, got a long Louise Kennedy review in today's Boston Globe. I've been waiting since we saw it this past Wednesday.

A.R.T. in Cambridge, Mass., which is staging the play until Feb 3, is a stunning space - you walk in on the stage floor, seating stadium style on sides, and "in front," the many tiers that face the set. In this case, being seated on the side seemed an advantage. The play requires thinking from many perspectives and having to watch from an oblique vantage is conceptually fitting.

"The set:" Three large oval light tracks arced at odd angles to one another circle the ceiling. "Electrons" whip around at various intervals, flick on at different times during the performance. Mirrors along the back wall are the stage design; the set comprises three chairs that the characters move around the stage. That's it.

Characters: Three - 1. Niels Bohr (Will LeBow), the Danish physicist who proposed "complementarity," the principle that says, in essence, you can't have black without white - in physics, his theory is connected with waves and particles - one can't exist without the other; 2. Margrethe Bohr (Karen MacDonald), wife of same, mother of six sons (one of whose deaths provides a refrain in the play), typist of manuscripts, and  the character who translates physics into English - and humanity - on the stage; and 3. Werner Heisenberg (John Kuntz), the German physicist whose name precedes "uncertainty principle," meaning that once you start studying something, your intervention so changes what you're studying that it's not the same thing as when you started.

Plot: In 1941, Heisenberg arrives in Copenhagen for a meeting with Bohr. "Why did you come to Copenhagen?" Margrethe repeats this line many times in the play. It's the central question that allows the characters to reflect on their lives (when the play opens they're all dead; everything is a flashback), explore physics, argue about collaborating with the Nazis, hint at the nuclear bomb projects underway in both Germany and the US, mourn, walk away, come back, and love one another - even as they all have different memories of how those discussions transpired.

The characters play their parts in relationship to one another and comment to the audience, the work of narration passing among them as they discuss ethics, science, families, politics, the Nazis, love, skiing, Norway, walking, babies, anti-semitism, Einstein, drowning, each with its complement, each uncertain.

Powerful, powerful. Complementarity has been a big topic in our house since hubby Jeff used it as one of two core principles (the other was level structure) underlying "human systems theory" in his dissertation. Thus, the play picked up a lot of threads we've talked about.

I kept wishing I had the script in my lap as the ideas are heady, worth thinking about at a slower pace. An editor friend whom we went with said she wished she could have had at the script - would have removed a third of the lines she said. I can understand this. The sheer complexity of the material might be easier to comprehend if the acts were shorter. In one sense, it's a really long lecture about the most abstract of ideas.

Last point, bloggers: Those involved are keeping a blog about the production. "Heisenberg" (who signs his posts "johnny kuntz") is posting about his part, what it's like to rehearse, and such, very interesting. And today, Nick Peterson (thanks for inviting us, Nick) posts an email they received from Heisenberg's son Jochen Heisenberg, professor of physics at the University of New Hampshire (Jeff's alma mater), who apparently attended the same performance we did:

Thank you indeed for the wonderful experience of seeing this different Copenhagen€ performance. As you know, we have been guests at a number of performances since the NY opening in 2000, and I have had the burdensome opportunity to become a participant in those symposia that dealt with the controversy arising out of this play.

What was so refreshing this time was the fact that the play was allowed to be a drama on many levels and that the one-dimensional, contentious aspects did not dominate the many-layered personal story.

The Majesty of Your Loving

Many years ago, we had the chance to become friends with Olivia and Hob Hoblitzelle, beacons of clear thinking in the fields of psychotherapy and spiritual development. I liked them immediately when we met - Olivia's calm presence even when everyone around us seemed to be going nuts, Hob's sense of humor.

To my young eyes, their home was everything an abode should be - simple, beautiful, and with a Japanese garden, this before everyone had a couple of bonzai in the kitchen and a Buddha or two in the backyard. Their children were close to adolescence; ours weren't even born. I truly admired them. Then, as is the case with so many who influence us, our lives drifted off into our futures.

About five or so years ago, I was in a yoga class at Kripalu, the yoga center in Western Massachusetts, and noticed a beautiful woman, intent on her practice, a few mats from me. It was Olivia. We spoke briefly, long enough for her to tell me that Hob was quite ill, that he had been diagnosed with Alzheimer's, and that she had come to the yoga center for rest and retreat. Some months after that, I read in the paper that Hob had died.

Now the news that Olivia has captured their seven-year journey in a book whose title promises many gifts: The Majesty of Your Loving: A Couple's Journey through Alzheimer's. And there's a website that summarizes their story, gives information on how to arrange a reading or workshop with Olivia, and, of course, provides additional resources.

"Carolyn got in the way"

What must be written isn't accompanied by the time it deserves. I need a couple of hours to capture Carolyn Goodman's memorial service, which took place Sun, Oct 7, 2007, while it's still fresh. But life is breaking the speed limit at the moment and, having gone to three memorial services in the past ten days, I'm a bit spent. That said, given the others who attended this one--historians, journalists (see Jerry Mitchell's article here, and her extraordinary friends--I know there will be a good public record of a unique memorial for this one-of-a-kind icon of courage, forgiveness, and sophistication, who will forever be known as the mother of Andrew Goodman, one of the three civil rights workers murdered by the Ku Klux Klan in Mississippi in 1964.

Thus, quick notes:

I had left an hour for the subway from Brooklyn to the Upper West Side but the proper train from my stop was not running. At 3:15, I was still waiting for the train I had to take two stations in the wrong direction to get on the right one. The service was to start at 4, but I'd only made it to Lower Manhattan by then. So it was that I was nearly 20 minutes late but just in time for Carolyn's son David's introduction to the first speaker: NY City Mayor Michael Bloomberg. I'd already missed her grandson Ivan's sounding of the ram's horn, her son Jonathan's reciting of Kaddish, Clarissa Sinceno-Taylor's Amazing Grace solo, and the first video of Carolyn's biography.

There were four or five hundred people in the mahogany auditorium of Ethical Culture Society when I arrived; I took a seat just a few rows from the front, on the left hand side.

By the time the Mayor was finished, I'd managed to get out paper and pen. "Carolyn got in the way," Congressman John Lewis said just after coming to the podium with a standing ovation. "She made necessary trouble." He said the three slain civil rights workers (Carolyn's son Andy, Michael Schwerner, and James Chaney) "should be called the Founding Fathers of the New America;" and that, despite all, Carolyn "never demonstrated one bit of bitterness," a theme that others echoed. Others being WNBC correspondent Gabe Pressman (after first citing the bad wars, civil rights, he said, was a "good war"); Ben Chaney, the younger brother of James; Sarah Siegel and Allison Marie Nichols, college students whose lives were turned around by meeting Carolyn; NY Times columnist Bob Herbert ("she seemed almost magical"); NY1 reporter Budd Mishkin, who wore the shirt Carolyn always asked him to wear; and his brother, the attorney Doug Mishkin, whom she'd asked to sing "Carry on, my sweet survivor" at her memorial service, which he did; and, here I need to break paragraphs to highlight the powerful speaker...

Dick Molpus, former Secretary of State in Mississippi, who met Carolyn 25 years after the three young men's murders, and the first public official to apologize to their mothers, who also asked two key newsmen to stand: Neshoba (Miss) Democrat editor and publisher, Stanley Dearman, and reporter Jerry Mitchell of The (Jackson, Miss) Clarion-Ledger, "who relentlessly stayed on top of the case," ultimately leading to the conviction of Edgar Ray Killen, who finally went to jail 41 years after masterminding the murders.

And so it went through another dozen speakers: two colleagues from the board of Symphony Space; two from public radio station WBAI (one of whom joked that Carolyn decided that "Heaven clearly needs work" and that "it will be a better place when she's done"; Regina Solano of PACE, a mental health program for mothers of young children that Carolyn founded and ran for many years; Eli Lee, who worked for her at the Andrew Goodman Foundation; Rabbi Bruce Cohen of Interns for Peace, whose board she chaired; her niece, Dr. Cathey Eisner Falvo, and...

The final speaker,  Harry Belafonte, who said, "Carolyn Goodman's name will live forever."

The three-hour event ended with a singalong led by VOCE and Friends, gospel singers from Riverside Church, including the signature melody of the civil rights movement, "We Shall Overcome."

As Mr. Belafonte said, "We are fortunate that she lived so long. Hers was the work of noble warriors." Indeed, Carolyn. I was lucky to have met you when I was young and, like those who spoke, have been inspired by your example.

PS:  Thank you, David, for organizing and graciously conducting this remarkable tribute to your mother and for including me in the dinner that followed.

"The studio of my mind"

She lived for thirteen years after tests confirmed ovarian cancer, which she intuited long before that.  She opened her sealed orders early, knew she was meant to dance, which she did until two days before she died on April 6, 2007.

Last night, two hundred members of Dorothy Hershkowitz's family celebrated her life. Sweet nibbles to welcome guests and then the curtain.

A forty-minute film that Dorothy narrates, a dance biography, with Dorothy looking to the filmmaker, Lynn Bikofsky, and talking to us. Dance has been her "best friend," she says (at her funeral last April, the cantor recalled her saying that dance was her "conversation with God"). When things have been difficult, which they often were (we remember), she goes to her studio or at least "the studio of my mind." Dance is where she works out life, realizes emotion, travels through space. We see clips of her as a very young dancer, and, remarkably, pieces of her major early works, Kaddish, which she choreographed and performed shortly after her father's death (I made seafood lasagna for the cast party), and Monday Morning Quarterback, inspired by an incident where she had to step over a drunk in a subway turnstile. She is still dancing at the end of the film: she had to repeat a take 30 times, 30, when she performs in the halls, not the auditorium, of Dana Farber Cancer Institute, because people keep walking into frame, the background narration a lab technician saying "some people enjoy this test, find it relaxing," as Dorothy throws her body, just a few months before her death, from wall to wall with the knocks of the MRI. And then her teaching one of her last classes, frail, close to the end, her arms floating like no others, and the camera rests on her smile, her very beautiful smile.

People speak, beginning with the cantor, Lorel Zar-Kessler, and then many others. Poems, anecdotes, quotes from letters, a cello concert, cards, and emails Dorothy wrote, Dorothy-aware of death coming soon, her son, Alexander Bohn, recalling that she danced when she put away groceries, her students, her best friend in junior high, her cousin, all recalling a Dorothy the others recognized, and the brave tall man who said Dorothy was his icon of hope after his wife's ovarian cancer diagnosis because D had already lived seven years, (and, as it turned out, did live four years more after his wife died). Surely, as her husband, Dave Evans, has said, her incredibly strong body, all those years of movement, extended her life.

And then they danced, 15 of her students, in a piece choreographed by Joanie Block to "Smile."

Dave said the last words. Gratitude to all, composed and dignified, and very lovingly he tells of two things Dorothy said, the first a few moments after they met: "She poured out her love, meaning Alexander and Jonathan, her sons;" and her last, to the effect of: "No one should go hungry - there is no reason for that."

And then we all sang "You gotta have heart," words on the jump page here.

Repeating what I wrote when she died: Dance on, Dorothy.

A nice article in the Newton, Mass, newspaper where Dorothy lived.

Meet Jeffrey Walker

I've blogged before about the special gifts that come uninvited to speakers. People, strangers, all perfect in their own ways, say outrageously nice things, tell you their stories, say they know you from some chapter in your life where their characters may not have been as well-portrayed to you.

So it was that when Jeffrey Walker introduced himself at the Enterprise 2.0 conference this past June, said he knew us from when we consulted to Index Systems, a long-gone but then high-end consultancy based in Cambridge, Mass, I, reading his nametag, exuberantly replied, "We have to talk!"

Jeffrey is President of Atlassian Software, the Australian company that makes Confluence, a sleek wiki product that simplifies collaboration. We were introduced to Confluence through a client using our virtual team methodology; within days, that company's clever engineers had adapted our People-Purpose-Links-Time model to their wiki.

As things worked out, it took a few months before we scheduled our call but, during that time, Jeffrey sent an insightful note about his views of the conference with a good list of +/- (I was on the Advisory Board), invited me to be "LinkedIn" to him, and observed that I hadn't joined Facebook (corrected as of 48 hours ago). This morning I received his acknowledgment as his "friend" on Facebook (if you haven't joined, this could sound ridiculously hokey but there is something very compelling here, still to be understood by moi)...and so I checked out his "wall." There I noticed a number of notes where people were wishing him a speedy recovery and such...which caused me to click through to his blog where I discovered that Jeffrey has been blogging about his cancer, an arcane form, his recent surgery following what appeared to be a recurrence (fortunately benign), and the tremendous energy he has brought to recovery, i.e. just post-op, he asked the nurses where the hospital gym was, they looked at him as if he were mad, and long-short, he ended up with a treadmill in his hospital room.

Jeffrey is also a painter and a jazz musician. He lists Coltrane's "A Love Supreme" as his fave all-time album, which gives us common cause right there, and, business interests aside, I am very happy to have made his acquaintance. You will be too.

PS: His blog, radiowalker, is must-reading for those interested in Web 2.0.