Sometimes panic and despair are the only logical choices

Two months into the second Trump presidency and we can safely state that Americans have never seen anything like it. I don't say that lightly, having many times mentioned just how bad the "good old days" could be and just in my lifetime. 

But what makes our current situation special is that we have a relatively small number of elected and appointed officials who are determined to tear down any institutions that don't suit them and to impose their will on millions and millions (well, BILLIONS, if we think of the global ramifications). 

After seeing several international students spirited off to Louisiana (why there?) by masked ICE agents, I am now seeing posts on the JEA listserv about high school journalists suddenly wanting published opinion pieces taken down from student news sites. It's hard to imagine the feds coming after a 17-year-old who suggests that something may be wrong with the nation, but...

My assumption is that students feel uncomfortable in normal times when publishing possibly controversial views, but adding in even a remote possibility that they might be arrested, attacked, or otherwise silenced by the federal government will be quite effective in silencing student voices.

Universities and state K-12 agencies are buckling under after mere threats. The Republican Party has revealed itself to be the "anti-American" political party (basically opposing anything that smacks of progressive thought and shrugging off unlawful abuses of power). A dangerously cruel man is decimating the government... well, more than decimating. That would be eliminating 10 percent of government jobs and that would seem extreme in itself. 

That so many self-described "leaders" have hopped on the Trump Train with not a shred of shame or guilt or personal pride is what strikes me as most alarming. I assume most of the them are willing to watch the chaos without complaint, reasoning that among all the cruelty and craziness from the Trump nuts, they are getting something they wanted.

Republicans have not liked the Department of Education, so having that starved into irrelevance is fine with them. They don't like science (or at least to pretend not to like it, since so many of their voters are anti-intellectuals), so breaking up departments that oversee and fund science research is OK. They don't much care for poor people in Africa (or American, for that matter, though they rely on their votes to retain power), so ending foreign aid is fine. 

Sure, they also need to accept the sunsetting of Congressional power and even their personal irrelevance when it comes to exercising power. But as long as they are on the "winning team," all is well.

My guess is that the Always Trumpers assume that life will return to something approaching normal once His Majesty steps off the stage. They want to grab whatever they can while the getting's good.

The Republican Party is mostly white and mostly angry and vengeful. Prove me wrong. 

The party is also mostly old, led by the aged and doddering. It starts with an increasingly confused and clueless president, of course. But I often think of Iowa Senator Charles Grassley, who is 91 and who has long ceased to have any interest in compromise or even logical thought. There was a time when he at least pretended to be tough-minded and willing to work with a wide variety of constituents. Now, he's just an empty vessel and a certain vote for a man whose sole purpose is vengeance. 

Sorry. I exaggerated. Trump also simply gets a thrill from dominance over others and now there is nothing holding him back. He can't break a law, according to our benighted Supreme Court, can can't run again, though he will likely try. 

Enough of our neighbors are enjoying being "fellow travelers" that nothing will be done to end the reign of terror until the 2026 midterm elections (and maybe not even then). 

Trump and his minions are well aware of things likely turning against them but for now their strategy is to burn it all down. I can smell the smoke even in my sleepy neighborhood.

Why aren't they doing what I have been trying to teach?

I have been thinking about instructions and how we pass on knowledge and skills to others lately. It took a blog post from Seth Godin, one of my favorites, to start me down that path. Here are excerpts from his March 12 post:

Two kinds of instructions

The more common, easier to execute sort: Instructions to remind people who already know what to do, what to do.

The more essential and harder to create kind: Instructions for people who don’t know what to do.

It’s a mistake to assume that just because you know all the steps, the person you’re writing for does as well.

[Almost all instructions on car dashboards, and most on the highway, are for people who already know how to drive and where they’re going… instructions that teach are a special category.]

He then lists some steps in thinking through instructions, including this one: Every interaction should have a “what if the person is confused in this moment?” branch (or option).

Many of my college students either don't know what to do or don't realize that they don't know what to do. I know this because no matter how many times I urge them to add support to their claims or arguments, they mostly do not do that.

Many student media advisers and students that I work with, usually indirectly through judging and critiquing their media, don't know what to do. If they did, I could stop repeating the same advice year after year, often to the same publications.

Many of the board members on a nonprofit board I currently chair do not know what to do. The evidence is found in reports that are unclear and unfocused. 

Not all, of course, in any of the above three categories, but many. And that is frustrating. 

It is possible that those who do know what they are doing and who demonstrate it happen to already know what to do. My task with them is to remind them, push them a bit, and maybe challenge them to consider doing even more or just trying some new tactic or strategy. 

Being a consultant who mostly urges students, advisers, and board members to elevate what they already do competently is still challenging but not all that essential. They would all be fine without help from me.

But now I am thinking that I all too often assume that people know what to do but are just too busy, too stubborn, or too distracted to be competent. That thinking needs to change.

Most people I work with need instructions built on the truth that they don't really know what to do. And if you don't know WHAT to do, it's tough to teach HOW to do it. 

I need to start analyzing where my class assignments, my critiques, and my requests for reports need some of those "what if the person is confused at this point?" links or sidebars or focused context. I just need to try to avoid "the curse of knowledge": sometimes I know so much (or think I do) that I lose track of my audience and skip key processes. 

Learning to teach is a long journey.

How a children's book gave me the creeps

Tim Harrower, a longtime friend, has just published a "children's book for adults," and I have ordered a copy based on some sample pages I saw on his Facebook page plus his past excellence as a writer and designer. He shared just two hours later in an email that things were a bit slow this winter and he wanted to experiment with AI tools. 

The book's text is all Tim, but the illustrations are all generative AI art tools (and I don't know which he used, but there are many available). The book is "The Dinosaur Owner's Manual," based on the concept that paleontologist Huxley Poot discovered live dinosaurs on a remote Pacific island in 1925 and brought them to Australia, where they flourished as pets for some time before adults banished them. This book is a reprint, so to speak, edited by Tim. It's a fun concept. 

It includes lavish illustrations, all generated by AI as guided by Tim's written instructions. He wrote: "You type in what you want (say, a dinosaur drinking tea), and the AI robot creates a painting, a photo, a sketch, whatever." 

I am sure it was quite a bit more complex than that, but his explanation makes sense based on what I have been learning while monkeying with ChatGPT to aid college writers. The best results from the AI "robot" come from more and more precise and structured prompts. That is likely true of AI art generators.

He has even created a promo video found here in which the narrator's Australian voice was AI-generated. 

I don't yet have the book in my hands but will not be surprised to find that the illustrations are rich and detailed. I know the text will be clever and engaging (and all from Tim). The book design will be terrific since Tim has long been a national leader in design theory and practice. 

I do have to admit that managing to illustrate an entire children's book gives me a moment's pause, so to speak. I would certainly feel a chill were I an illustrator, sensing that my services will soon no longer be required. 

Right now, I can't imagine the AI matching Tim's wits but, honestly, I would be foolish to simply shrug off that threat. It's just a matter of time, as least if an article in today's New York Times is correct.

The author has long been reporting on AI and is quite sure that we are, at most, a couple years away from AI tech that surpasses human capabilities in many areas. He may not be right, but if it's not two years, it will certainly be within ten. 

Today, we agonize over tariffs and an administration bordering on insane. We can't pass a federal budget and no one has any idea how to respond to a president who disdains all the accepted virtues and traditions of the American experiment. The stock market is tanking, though it will likely recover since rich people are quite clever and will do what it takes to "protect their own."

But the real challenge for the country and the world is likely to be generative AI that matches human intelligence and doesn't require 401Ks or even a rational government to operate. 

I used to think that the robots were coming, but not in my lifetime. I think I was wrong.

Wishing I were a more efficient interviewer

I have been doing some research, including lots of personal interviews, with people associate with St. Luke's UMC, where I sing in the choir. The church celebrated 40 years on March 13, 2023 and I was the Emcee, for unknown reasons. I found myself dissatisfied with what was shared about the earliest days of the church starting, right along with Highlands Ranch. They both began in the early 80s, basically from dirt.

There was something about "two visionary pastors who had the idea of starting a church in this new community south of Denver." And that was about it. That just didn't seem enough and eventually I got it into my head that I would appoint myself unofficial historian and try to find out what actually happened. Who were these visionaries? Was the whole process smooth and without challenges? 

We didn't move to Highlands Ranch until August of 2002 and we soon joined St. Luke's. That was 19 years into the church's history and the building had gone through three incarnations, each time adding space as the membership grew. So, I knew quite about of our recent history.

But there had been two senior ministers who had established a lot of what the church was, and long before we arrived. We enjoyed the third senior minister, but he left in summer of 2003. Bottom line: there's a lot of church history that I did not live through. 

I began reaching out to former ministers (all of whom but one, who died in 1993, lived nearby), and all were glad to talk about St. Luke's. I began meeting them and talking for an hour or two once in a while, asking for memories and insights and key dates and people. At the same time, I was doing research reading primary source documents like old church newsletters, old scrapbooks, official documents, and online news stories. 

I am still working on this little project nearly a year later and I only have a hazy idea of where things are going in terms of publishing or posting. I have expanded my research by interviewing various church members who have been involved before I ever arrived... a few go back to the early to mid-80s. There is an urgency to some of the interviewing since some of those early-year sources are getting what even a 74-year-old might call elderly. 

Every single interview has been delightful and informative.

But here's the fact that has become clearest to me: Interviewing is hard! I know. Big surprise. I have taught interviewing for decades to students but I was never a working journalist. 

I have interviewed two former ministers at least three times, usually for 90 minutes or more, and each time I learn a bit more. Mostly I find that there is so much more to the story... so many people it would be helpful to hear from... so many related facts and local history that interacts with this little church south of Denver. 

It's too late, of course, but I would apologize for being a bit short with lots of student reporters over many years. It's easy to talk when two people share interests and one of them (me) is genuinely interested in stories they can share. 

But my notetaking is spotty. I get back home and try to type up my notes and discover endless holes, questions about chronology, mystifying stray words and phrases that I must have thought important enough to jot down... and then all that confusing stuff becomes the excuse for the next interview.

So far they have been patient with me, but it's about time for a first draft on those first 20 years of St. Luke's.