Showing posts with label public policy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label public policy. Show all posts

What I Stand For

An online community I participate in regularly offered up a probing question of the day recently: "What do I stand for?". 

Such a powerful question! I have a feeling this isn't a complete list, but here it is so far:

I stand for kindness: To myself, to others, to the earth and everything that lives on it.

I stand for justice: The recognition that we have had generations of injustice and deep, compounding harms that mean some people start out in a hole dug by official policies and actions and face a steeper climb than others. (Here's a graphic from the LA Metro Design Studio that illustrates equality, equity, and justice much better than the one you may have seen with kids shut out of a ballfield. I don't use the kids-on-boxes graphic, which still leaves the kids outside the fence.)

I stand for accountability: For recognition of my own privilege that I didn't understand until I started unlearning and relearning, and for what I do with that privilege to make a difference. (A couple of my blog posts on privilege and bicycling: Riding Thoughts: Privilege is a Tailwind and Privilege and Biking: It Takes More than a Bike Lane to Start Riding)

I stand for mother love: For my daughters. my stepchildren, and former stepchildren I'm still connected to, and for encouraging them to grow into themselves, not some version tied to what I think they should or shouldn't be or become.

I stand for love: My love for my husband, and every human being's right to love who and how they love.

I stand for friendship: For being someone who is there for hard times, not just fun times, and someone who nurtures friendships with time and attention.

I stand for engagement and connection: In my neighborhood and community, in policy and politics, in philanthropy and volunteering, in the everyday connections I can foster by connecting people to other people, resources, and ideas.

I stand for freedom: For the right to control our own bodies, for the right to be who we are in the world without fear.

I stand for environmental action, both personal and systemic: That is, I make individual choices to live more lightly on the earth but I know that even if everyone did the same we can't offset the actions of corporations and governments that engage in widespread damage and policy decisions that make things worse, rather than better. I'm fortunate that my professional life enables me to truly make a difference and gives me a wider platform, I vote for people who will move us forward toward survival as a species, and I shop locally, including food, to support local living economies.

Fundamentally I stand for making the world a healthier and more equitable place for all: Both close to home and far away, I support with words, actions, and cash the people and organizations making a difference.

Years ago I wrote a post about the 4-H pledge that somewhat relates to this question.

I expect to keep pondering the question and may come back.

What do you stand for?

Related reading:

We Are the Ones We've Been Waiting For: Poems for Activists and Advocates

This collection includes harsh and violent imagery. You might think it needs a content warning. Yes, because the world we live in needs a content warning. Any day, every day, any of us might encounter harm, violence, the ending of our lives bit by polluting bit or all at once in the impact of a vehicle or the firing of a gun. Some of us move through the world with identities that increase the odds that we'll experience these as part of our everyday reality, one of the many injustices that activists and advocates speak out against.

This collection could keep growing. I compiled it the way I do all of my posts pointing people to poetry, by adding a link as I encountered a piece in my morning poetry reading that fit into this theme. 

At some point as the collection grew I got the book Poetry of Presence II: More Mindfulness Poems. I wanted it because I loved the first Poetry of Presence, not realizing that for this second volume editors Phyllis Cole-Dai and Ruby R. Wilson had also felt the calling to collect poetry that speaks to the urgency of our times. As they wrote in the introduction to describe their wonderful selections,

"Many poems in this volume therefore delve into varieties of suffering: woundedness, illness, loss, and death; prejudice, bigotry, injustice; violence and war . . . a host of tough stuff that, frankly, most of us would rather not deal with.

"But mindfulness poetry has the potential to crack open that tough stuff—one stanza, one line, even one word at a time. Enough light escapes through those cracks that we can edge forward when it gets dark or, if we need to, stay put a while and catch our bearings. By that light, we may begin to see more clearly and intuit more wisely how to be whoever we need to be, to go wherever we need to go, to do whatever we need to do. We're led more directly into the heart of the question that Ada Limón sets forth in the epigraph: 'What is it to go to a We from an I?'"

These words and those of the poets in the book and below remind, inspire, humble, and amaze me because poets can take these horrors and create such startling beauty, roses amidst the wounding thorns. 

A quotation by poet, peace activist and priest Fr. Daniel Berrigan fits here. I don't know which of his poems or writings it might be from; if you have the citation please share in the comments.

"This occurred to me, that faith is prose and love is music and hope is poetry." - Daniel Berrigan

What do you pledge, what actions are you already taking, to undo or prevent harms to each other and to bring justice and beauty to the world? How are you creating hope and going toward a We?

"Protest" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

To sin by silence, when we should protest,
Makes cowards out of men. The human race
Has climbed on protest. 

"The World We Want Is Us" by Alice Walker

Yes, we are the 99%
all of us
refusing to forget
each other
no matter, in our hunger, what crumbs
are dropped by
the 1%.

"Of History and Hope" by Miller Williams

But where are we going to be, and why, and who?
The disenfranchised dead want to know.
We mean to be the people we meant to be,
to keep on going where we meant to go.

"V'ahavta" by Aurora Levins Morales

imagine winning.  This is your sacred task.
This is your power. Imagine
every detail of winning, the exact smell of the summer streets
in which no one has been shot, the muscles you have never
unclenched from worry, gone soft as newborn skin,
the sparkling taste of food when we know
that no one on earth is hungry,

"Postscript" by Marie Howe

We took of earth and took and took, and the earth
seemed not to mind

until one of our daughters shouted: it was right
in front of you, right in front of your eyes

and you didn’t see.

"The Fallen Protestor's Song" by Mohja Kahf

So when you write a word
on a wall for all to see
and it doesn’t have to be in code,
and no one breaks the hand that drew it,
when freedom is no longer treated like a narcotic,
dosed in hidden little baggies only for the few,
but becomes like photosynthesis in plants,
processing light in every leaf,

"Blackbirds" by Julie Cadwallader-Staub

when, every now and then, mercy and tenderness triumph in our lives
and when, even more rarely, we manage to unite and move together
toward a common good,

we can think to ourselves:

ah yes, this is how it's meant to be.

"Democracy" by Langston Hughes

I tire so of hearing people say,
Let things take their course.
Tomorrow is another day.
I do not need my freedom when I’m dead.
I cannot live on tomorrow’s bread.

"I Believe in Living" by Assata Shakur

i have been locked by the lawless.
Handcuffed by the haters.
Gagged by the greedy.
And, if i know anything at all,
it’s that a wall is just a wall
and nothing more at all.
It can be broken down.

"Tired" by Cleo Wade

I was tired
of looking at the world as one big mess
so I decided
to start cleaning it up

"A Brave and Startling Truth" by Maya Angelou

We, this people, on a small and lonely planet
Traveling through casual space
Past aloof stars, across the way of indifferent suns
To a destination where all signs tell us
It is possible and imperative that we learn
A brave and startling truth

"How Sweet It Is" by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

When I lose faith
that my smallest actions
make a difference,
let me remember myself as one of millions,

"Gate A-4" by Naomi Shihab Nye

And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and I thought, This
is the world I want to live in. The shared world.

"Revenge" by Elisa Chavez

We know everything we do is so the kids after us
will be able to follow something towards safety;
what can I call us but lighthouse,

"For Those Who Would Govern" by Joy Harjo

First question: Can you first govern yourself?

Second question: What is the state of your own household?

Third question: Do you have a proven record of community service and compassionate acts?

"The Poems We Do Not Want to Write" by Maya Stein

The poems we do not want to write have the words “surveillance video” in them. Also,
”automatic weapon” and “body camera footage” and “assailant” and “victims.” 

"Breathe" by Lynn Ungar 

Just breathe, the wind insisted.

Easy for you to say, if the weight of
injustice is not wrapped around your throat,
cutting off all air.

Photograph of blue camas flowers in a grassy area. They bear multiple flowers on a stalk, with 6 slender purplish-blue petals radiating from small yellow centers

I chose this image of camas flowers in bloom to close this collection because I grew up in a part of the Pacific Northwest where this plant formed a staple food for the tribes that lived in and moved through the area. As a child I wasn't taught the real history of these mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, children and cousins and all their relations. I was taught only their history as viewed through the eyes of people like Meriweather Lewis and William Clark, for whom my hometown of Lewiston, Idaho, and the neighboring town across the Snake River, Clarkston, Washington, were named. As an adult I have sought ways to learn the missing and deliberately omitted histories that underpin today's economy, cultures, and the forms of privilege I hold. In my work and the ways I give time and money I seek to utilize that privilege to rebalance the systems we all inherited, to work for justice and a better world for all.

Related Reading

2022 in Review: Blogging and a Bit More

2022 was a pretty quiet year in my blogging life until the last few weeks. I lost my writing mojo in 2020 when the world went dark, other than the writing I needed to do for work, and only this fall and winter did I start making an effort to write again. 

We still have a global pandemic and people still die from COVID-19 and its Greek-numbered variants. I've been vaxxed, vaxxed again, boosted, boosted, variant-boosted, and I still mask in crowds, stores, and mass-transit settings. The number of people doing the same has dwindled; sometimes I'm the only person wearing a mask. 

I'm fortunate to have a job that lets me telework 100%. I do travel a bit, eat occasionally in restaurants, shop in stores (masked), and occasionally have a social life with people I know are vaccinated and maintaining precautions. We kept up the grocery online order/pick-up habit because dang, that's lower stress than going into a store full of lots of people coughing, especially this time of year with the "tripledemic" in the news (COVID-19, flu, respiratory syncytial virus, with that last one usually only producing mild cold-like symptoms but breaking out much more seriously this year, especially in children). 

I haven't had COVID-19 yet that I know of. (I do have my suspicions about a few days of feeling under the weather during which I kept testing negative after attending a big conference and receiving a lot of texts and emails from people I'd talked with saying they had tested positive.) Nor have I had the flu, a cold, or any other contagious respiratory illness. Masks are awesome.

You would think that with all this non-social time on my hands I would have done more writing. It's been more like "what do we binge next?" at our house, to be honest, plus a lot of books read. At any rate, here's 2022's short list:

In May I tried to plan ahead for a special round-number birthday celebration: Counting up the Years. This was a lot of fun, coming up with things I could do that don't all cost money; instead they cost the far more rare and precious elements of time and attention. 

As part of my job, I get to coordinate with the office of Washington Gov. Jay Inslee on the proclamation for Bike Month. I wrote Bike Everywhere Month Rolls in May for the WSDOT Blog to share that—especially happy to do that in the year in which the Washington state legislature passed the historic Move Ahead Washington package with record-breaking levels of investment in active transportation and public transportation and dedicated future funding from a new carbon tax. That same package included a directive to WSDOT, where I work, to apply Complete Streets principles on all our projects, which is game-changing in a way that adds to the value of those new investments.

Both my long list of fun ideas and my bike riding took a turn for the worse September 1 when this happened: Broken Wrist, Dang It! No Riding for a While.

Revisiting my bike blog revealed I had a problem numbering in the tens of thousands that required drastic action in subscriber management: So long, spammers (with apologies to real people). [Honestly, this one isn't worth reading; noting it only in the spirit of full disclosure of lessons learned.]

I was delighted to write State Active Transportation Plan receives multiple awards for the WSDOT Blog. The plan my team worked on starting in late 2018 got slowed by the pandemic, and became final toward the end of December 2021. Over the course of 2022 the plan won state, regional, and national awards. And for an extra dose of woohoo, the new Move Ahead Washington transportation investment package wrote the plan into state law as a resource for identifying gaps in walk/bike/roll networks to prioritize for investment.

In November when things got weird with Twitter, its potential demise looming, I grabbed the archive of the many faces of Tiggs in The Kitten Chronicles, Year OneThe Kitten Chronicles, Year Two, and The Kitten Chronicles, Year Three. I share a picture or funny story every so often, adding to a thread I started the day we brought him home. He can be a real poophead sometimes—ask me about the holes he's eaten into a lot of good merino wool clothing—but he's also brought joy.

Now I was on a roll and Twitter was still there to inspire a bike blog post: What’s in a Name? Acoustic or Analog, Regular or Traditional Bicycle*. (But just in case, I started up a Mastodon account, @BarbChamberlain@toot.community.)

I rolled right into wanting to do something to reflect on the National Day of Mourning (labeled Thanksgiving on the federal holiday calendar) and Native American Heritage Day and compiled a post I've had in the back of my mind for a couple of years now: “We Are Still Here”: Indigenous-focused Bicycle Programs.

I treat that long four-day weekend (since I get those days off) as a chance to do cooking that takes time, although I don't try to get an entire fancy meal on the table in one fell swoop. Thus I dove into Vegan Cranberry Caramelized Red Onion Orange Chutney Recipe Experimentation.

My morning routine includes reading poetry. Along the way I've encountered more than one poem that somehow involves bicycles. Hence, “I think/therefore/I ride.” A Bike Rack of Bicycle Poems. Like the Kitten Chronicles, that started as a Twitter thread. I invited suggestions, which yielded some of the poems in my post, and I'm continuing the thread so I expect another post in the future. I started a second thread of transportation poems and that's likely to result in a post as well.

Watching TV with my sweetie, a reference to the Internet of Things sparked some wordplay. We agreed that An Alphabet of Things seemed possible, and a while later I put it together with some of our thoughts and only one bit of research (to find the X word).

As the year drew to a close, I marked the winter solstice during my morning poetry-reading time, which led to Winter Solstice Readings.

My relationship with resolutions has varied over the years. This year I'm making it both fun and easy by thinking in terms of "joy snacks" in Commitment, Bite-Sized and Tasty. To help people get rolling by bike (or some other climate-friendly mode) whether or not they're "resolution types", I rounded up my blog posts over the years that discuss forming new habits, tracking/not tracking your riding, and the nature of commitment in New Year, New Mode(s).

The last day of the year held so many simple pleasures—joy snacks:

  • went for a long walk with my sweetheart on what proved to be a sunny, beautiful day after a week of rain, to downtown Olympia for a coffee date and a stop at Peacock Vintage; 
  • rode Zelda the e-bike on my first bike ride since breaking my wrist, woohoo!; 
  • baked a delicious vegan dish, a tofu/caramelized onion/mushroom filling in a pie dish lined with thin slices of yam; 
  • sewed trim onto the hem of a coat that Tiggs had chewed a hole in, hiding the mended spot and making the coat wearable;
  • did yoga, making today one of my "triathlons" (walk 5,000 steps or more, ride my bike, and do yoga all in a day); 
  • finished this blog post; and
  • enjoyed red wine and delicious chocolate at the end of the day while relaxing on the sofa.
A very satisfying way to close out 2022 indeed.




Lost Year. Lost Future?

Nothing anyone writes about 2020 can capture what it really felt like. Human memory doesn't want to hold onto horrors. We want to look away, look forward, move on. If we don't do that we risk sinking into existential dread, drowning in the realities that rise over our heads.

Because it was tragic, at a level we wouldn't believe if someone put it in a movie plot. It is still tragic. Even as I rejoiced in the amazing feeling of having coffee with a friend in a coffee shop--something I took for granted in January 2020, something I treasure as a special moment now--I have to live within these realities.

We still have deep, divisive, damaging racism embedded in everything about the way our world is structured. We've had it for far longer than white people like me recognized, even as we benefited.

We still have the devouring, thoughtless habits of careless consumption that will kill our species. Not the planet--it will survive, in some shape. The Earth doesn't need us to go on. We've lit the planet on fire and we're pouring more gasoline on it every day.

We still have the violent, strange, and polarizing politics that made the simple act of getting a shot--something most of us experienced as a child and yeah, I'm glad I didn't get measles, mumps, whooping cough, or polio, aren't you?--a dividing line.

We still have the yawning chasm between the wealth of a Jeff Bezos--who earns more in one second than some people make in an entire month of hard and thankless work that exposes them to the risk of a potentially deadly disease--and the desperation felt by someone who has to call the back seat of a car their bedroom because that's all they have left.

Historians describe turning points, which are easier to recognize in hindsight than in the moment. I have one particular turning point in mind, though there are many.

I remember my anger when 9/11 happened and I listened to then-President George Bush give us a rousing speech--about why we needed to show that we couldn't be beaten by going shopping. 

I'm the daughter of a World War II veteran. I know that when we were asked as a nation to rise to the challenge of the moment by changing our way of life we were able to grow victory gardens, save tin foil, reduce consumption at home so resources could go to our soldiers overseas. 9/11 could have been a turning point to ask that we reduce our dependence on foreign oil so we wouldn't end up making more enemies in the Middle East. We didn't have to put the lives of our own citizens and others into the tanks of our ever-larger vehicles.

We could have committed to a cleaner and greener future. We could have risen to the challenge. We still could.

And if we did that we would also be doing something to confront the terrible legacies of racism. We would be acknowledging and then reducing the greater burdens of pollution and death by traffic violence created by building an economic structure that asks people to spend more and more time driving farther and farther. We would be making healthier places for everyone. We would treat this lost year as a portal to the future that we want.

When I say "we" here, by the way, I mean "we white people who still hold the majority of decision-making power in this country in every sector." Because "we" is me. "We" is you if you're not speaking up, speaking out, taking action. If we can't collectively learn from this lost year then we have truly lost our future.

Paying It Forward: Why I Vote YES for Kids and Schools

When I was in elementary school in the Tammany School District outside of Lewiston, and then in junior high and high school in the Central Valley School District in the Spokane Valley, my parents voted faithfully for every school bond and levy. I didn’t realize this at first, of course, but at some point tuned into this and asked my dad why they always voted yes.

“Somebody paid for my school,” he said in his blunt, no-nonsense way.

I’ve come to understand and appreciate a lot more about public policy and public funding since then. His answer still makes sense.
  • Somebody paid for my school.
  • Somebody paid for your school.
  • Somebody paid for the schools attended by the anti-school/anti-kid people currently perpetrating outright lies about school funding.
  • Public infrastructure relies on a "pay it forward" mentality: We use things funded by someone before us, and we fund infrastructure for the future.

The antis are trying—yet again--to kill support for the levies that are up for a vote in over a dozen districts right now. I just wish the antis had paid a little more attention in math class. Mrs. Whosie-Whatsie probably tried to teach them percentages but they apparently slept through that one. They’re mailing around a flyer that claims, in big bold type, that the state pays “100%” of public education.

Gosh, I guess the Washington State Supreme Court missed the memo. In their ruling of January 5, 2012, they held—quite unmistakably—that the state legislature does not fully fund basic education, failing in their constitutional duty.

Education is the primary obligation of the state according to the constitution, but the funding doesn’t reflect this. Perhaps the anti-school people slept through reading class, too, and thus missed the stories in the Spokesman-Review and around the state about the ruling.

The state Supreme Court directed the state legislature to fulfill their duty. But guess what—in the current resource-poor, revenue-challenged environment, the legislature is considering further cuts to public education funding.

This makes the local levies more critical than ever before, and the lies of these anti-school, anti-kid, anti-future people even more egregious.

In Spokane local levies fund a full one-quarter of the district budget. Take away 25% of the teachers, 25% of the aides, 25% of the maintenance crews, 25% of the books, 25% of the computers, 25% of the science lab equipment and supplies, 25% of the people responsible for reporting to the federal government so we can keep getting the federal dollars that make up another portion of the budget, 25% of the effort to identify at-risk kids early and help them graduate successfully, 25% of sports and extracurriculars and math and reading and science—that’s what you get without the levy.

This isn’t abstract for me. I have put two kids through the Spokane Public Schools system by choice, moving back to Spokane from Coeur d’Alene and choosing my home based on the schools they would attend.

They each received an outstanding education, bonded with teachers who served as special mentors, and participated in precisely the kinds of activities that are most threatened by budget cuts.

Eldest Daughter, who sings like an angel (if that angel sounded like a somewhat husky-throated jazz lounge regular), got amazing choir instruction from the late Kathleen Blair at Lewis and Clark High School. She gained practical work experience through a program that built her resume and prepared her for the world of work she’s now in, and she excelled at Spanish, English, and social studies.

Second Daughter, who heads to New York City with me this week so she can audition for several colleges in hopes of majoring in musical theater, has grown incredibly as a performer under the direction of Greg Pschirrer, who heads the drama department at Lewis and Clark. She also benefits from the head start on college-level math and everything else she got by going through the Odyssey gifted/talented program at the Libby School, and she’ll start college with quite a few credits already in hand thanks to advanced placement courses.

This is Second Daughter’s last year in public school. That doesn’t mean I’ll stop voting for levies and bonds. I still have a stake in the outcome. I'm not "done" with public education. No one ever really is--that's why Greater Spokane Incorporated, our combined regional Chamber of Commerce and Economic Development Council, is speaking out strongly and actively in support of the levies.

The kids entering kindergarten now will be getting out of college around the time I become eligible for Social Security.
  • Some of them will be applying to medical school (maybe on my campus) when I start receiving Medicare.
  • They’ll fix the brakes on the STA bus I ride to work when I’m not biking.
  • They’ll test (or reinvent) the instruments my eye doctor uses to determine whether I have the first signs of glaucoma—which is preventable but only if you detect it early.
  • They’ll dispense my prescriptions—I’d like them to get those right, please.
  • They’ll climb the Avista poles to fix the wires when another ice storm hits.
  • They’ll program the computers at Spokane Teachers CreditUnion that keep track of my money.
  • They’ll teach my grandkids in school.
  • They'll work for your business--or buy it--or hire your kids to work for them.

I will rely on those kids. So will you. Let’s pay it forward the way someone did for us.

Related Reading

Note: I've volunteered on every levy and bond campaign for Spokane Public Schools beginning in 2003, and co-chaired Citizens for Spokane Schools through two election cycles (2006 and 2009). I'm proud of the incredible outpouring of support from parents, community leaders, and volunteers in our schools every day, and through each and every campaign cycle. I'm proud to live in a community that has voted overwhelmingly in support of school funding time after time. I hope and expect to be proud again on Election Day February 14--or whenever they finish counting the ballots.

Hate Cannot Drive Out Hate; Only Love Can Do That

Years ago--but not that many years ago--it was illegal for two people of different races to marry each other.

We look back now and (most of us) can't imagine how the law could categorize one set of human characteristics as somehow less or more than another set of human characteristics, let alone tell two adult human beings who love each other that they may not state that commitment publicly to the world.

We can't believe that two adult humans who love each other couldn't receive all the same rights and obligations that two other people, with a different set of human characteristics that fit within a particular boundary, can have for free after a quick stop in Vegas.

We can't believe that having a particular characteristic was so shameful that people had to hide it and pretend to be something they were not so they could "pass," or that people could be brutally beaten to death simply for being who they were.

We have come so far as a society, truly. Can't we come the rest of the way and complete the spirit of the civil rights movement by ensuring that all people have an equal right to love and to marry?


Related Reading




Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. -Martin Luther King Jr.

The Promise of College

I tell two family stories when I talk about the importance of higher education.

The first story covers three generations of teachers in the family. My father’s mother, born in 1897, became a teacher because when she graduated from high school that made her one of the most educated people in her tiny North Carolina hometown of Boone Township, Watauga County.

My mother, born in 1921, became a teacher by going to a two-year “normal school”—teacher’s college—in Lewiston, Idaho (now Lewis-Clark State College), in the years just before World War II.

My older sister, born in 1952 (whoops, I told!), became a teacher with a bachelor’s degree from the University of Idaho and continuing education every summer in order to stay credentialed.

The second story is about my dad, who started out sweeping floors at Potlatch Forest Incorporated (PFI) in Lewiston in high school. He went to war, became a bomber pilot flying B-24s during World War II, then returned home and went back to work for Potlatch.

He didn’t take advantage of the GI Bill; he and Mom had already started their family (hi, Eldest Brother!). By being accepted to Officer Candidate School, which back then was pretty much a college-boy gig, he proved he had the smarts and ability, but it wasn’t in the cards.

Dad rose to become manager of the lumber mill in Lewiston with supervisory responsibilities for a number of smaller mills, which explains why I’ve been to places like Santa, Idaho. He took plenty of continuing self-improvement courses, such as Dale Carnegie public speaking training, but no formal degree program.

At some point Potlatch’s management approach shifted. They moved their headquarters to San Francisco for a while. They became Potlatch Corporation instead of PFI. And Dad—who, unlike their corporate honchos, had never gone to college—was approaching retirement age.  He was given a transfer to Spokane and finished out his time as a vice president of sales and shipping. Fancier title, but I’m betting less responsibility.

Dad’s life represents a success story. He worked hard, rose through the ranks, and supported a family of six children.

He also represents the importance of higher education, because at some point, without it, he topped out. And his career arc is not one you’d be able to repeat today if you graduate from high school but don’t go on to some sort of postsecondary education.

He knew that, and his life dream was to have every one of his six children graduate from college. We all did. Two of us have master’s degrees.

The older kids worked their way through college. He was able to pay for my undergraduate education and my younger sister’s, joking all the while that his “second litter” of children (born when he and Mom were in their 40s, which made them “old” parents!) prevented him from taking early retirement. He actually went on after retiring from Potlatch to work for Gabor Trucking Company for a while running their Spokane dispatch office, which I’m sure was driven by the tuition pressure.

And today—facing the worst economy of my lifetime and cuts in state funding for higher education that could represent a four-year total reduction of close to 70% of state support for Washington State University (where I work) by the time they’re done with this legislative session—I don’t know how I will pay for my daughters’ college education.

Highly Related Reading

Dear National Health Care Reform,

We don’t know each other well. I’m quite aware you have depths I will learn more about in the coming years as we mature together. As in any relationship, I will find things I’m not so crazy about. 

You may find out about some of my weaknesses and problems too—some of which will cost you money. 

We will have to weather these storms together and there may be some need for flexibility, adaptation and evolution along the way.

In our first days together, though, I must thank you for what you did for my oldest daughter. You made it possible for me to put her back on my family health insurance coverage after she went off.

She would have stayed on the insurance had she still been in college. After her first year, though, the family financial situation meant she needed to work for a while and save money in order to continue her education. 

She is responsible and hard-working but without a college degree, naturally she can’t find a job that comes with health insurance.

She needs the insurance too. She has a couple of chronic conditions that require some attention and prescriptions. With health insurance she can get medical care and medications. With these she can stay healthy, work, and pay taxes to help cover the cost of coverage she would not otherwise have.

In the future these chronic conditions (which aren't life-threatening, thankfully) could have been a bar to changing insurance providers. But again, thanks to you, that won't be the case. She can stay insured continuously, which will help prevent the stop/start medical care that could make life difficult.

There may be a few things about you I won’t entirely love. But you have made a real difference for our family and our ability to contribute to the economy and stay healthy. Nobody's perfect so let's agree to give each other credit for doing the best we can within our limitations.

Thanks, National Health Care Reform.

P.S. Oh, and your nickname--"Obamacare"? I'm fine with that. I'll use it affectionately since I'm so happy about what you've done for us.

Getting what you want a different way: Can we create new models?

My pondering on this topic began back in April prompted by a Cap’n Transit Rides Again piece on the trade-offs between desires, say, for big homes and lots of land that will require cars to move you around and how—cue Rolling Stones here—you can’t always get what you want (his follow-up post delves into the trade-offs between desires a bit more).


I got re-prompted yesterday by Chris Brogan suggesting we may want to rethink every assumption—as it happens, also on the value of home ownership or car ownership—in response to Richard Florida talking about the Great Car Reset and a decline in driving among young people in particular.

I find myself wondering about the inherent bias toward owning rather than renting or sharing.

It's built into the tax code—I get to deduct my property taxes and mortgage interest. There are policy reasons stated for this; you’ll hear the assumption that neighborhoods get greater stability and attention to external maintenance from home owners than from renters.

This ownership orientation in the tax code provides great encouragement for over-consumption of housing. Up to some limit in the tax code (I don’t know what it is and don’t ever expect to approach it), I get to deduct more and more if I buy bigger and bigger houses. In essence, people who own smaller, more compact homes (and consume fewer resources) subsidize someone else’s bigger house through this tax shift.

Since bigger houses are also typically farther apart, I get to help pay for those roads to get their cars to town, too. (Yes, I know, you pay more taxes on a larger and more valuable home; I just don’t think you’re paying the full cost of your externalities. See the APHA on the hidden health care costs of transportation for starters.)

A mildly radical notion submitted for your consideration: Is ownership the be-all and end-all?

As new models emerge like Zipcar that enable the convenience of car use without the ongoing expenses of car ownership, maybe we'll see some shifts in this. Or to take it a step further, the Zimride model of ride-share matching through Facebook--all private owners willingly exchanging uses and needs.

I wish my neighborhood (small houses close together within walking/biking distance of downtown and on a transit line) had a "big tool exchange" system whereby we don't all individually have to own a lawn mower, edger, hedge trimmer and all the other big, noisy accoutrements of lawn maintenance.

Ninety-nine percent of the time we're not using these things so why couldn't someone else? But someone has to create, manage and fund such a system, as well as get everyone to change the psychological orientation toward ownership. That's a big job.

This co-op mentality may be near-communism to some, and American individualism gets in the way. Perhaps the up side of the economic downturn is that people won't be able to afford all the ownership they want and will have to look for other models.

Would you be willing to share ownership in things you don’t use very often? Do you know of models for things like the tool exchange I suggest? Are you changing your thinking about what you “have” to own?

A little light reading: Transportation and health, Summer Parkways, and the density of smart people

How do we pay for our transportation system? Surprise: In our health care system. At least in part, that is.
Choices to drive rather than walk to the transit stop or ride a bike are choices in favor of a sedentary life. When you say yes to the car you say no to moving yourself with personal power and burning a few calories.
Cost shifts are also hidden in food prices thanks to agricultural subsidies for low-quality calories (think high-fructose corn syrup). Cheap bell peppers grown in Chile and shipped to Spokane undercut locally grown produce that doesn’t travel nearly as far. Soda costs less than fruit juice, which at least has some element of real food in it. Ever stop to wonder how that happens?
As Tufts University nutrition researcher Christina Economos said at a recent conference on childhood obesity at WSU Spokane, “We should subsidize the foods we want people to eat.”
This week’s fodder:
Next American City panned the idea of “summer streets” efforts that don’t get people to think much, much differently about street design. What’s wrong with plain old fun, I ask? Our Spokane Summer Parkways will be plenty of fun, thank you very much.
The Density of Smart People: Back in my teenage days Dad used to say, shaking his head gently at me, “For someone who’s supposed to be so smart, you sure don’t have much horse sense.”
That isn’t what the Creative Class folks mean by density—they’re looking at how many smart people (college-educated) per square mile cities have as a measure of their human capital.

Their piece is based on the original analysis by Rob Pitingolo, which turned out to have comments by people asking whether walkability scores and income-based mobility played any role in where smart people choose to live. Maybe everything is ultimately about transportation….

Sweeping generalizations are always false, Mr. Professional Traffic Engineer

Since I’m not an “invited participant” I can’t respond to comments on a National Journal piece about transportation funding for bike and pedestrian infrastructure. I’ll have to say it here, where you are all invited participants who may comment freely whether or not you have a snazzy title and professional head shot.

D.J. Hughes, a professional engineer from Delaware, had this to say in his comment (there’s more, so read the whole thing to be fair. And while you’re there, read the comment from Keith Laughlin, president of the Rails to Trails Conservancy—much more optimistic):

“Commuter bike trips are not realistic for people with kids in day care, who have a 10-15+ min drive at 40-50 mph avg speed, or who have to take things such as a laptop and files to/from work.  Bad weather also prevents commuter bike trips even for the most avid bicyclists.  People also cannot accomplish essential tasks such as grocery shopping via bikes.”

Really? Bad weather “prevents” trips? “Cannot accomplish” grocery shopping?

While he goes on to say that he goes for recreational rides with his kids in their neighborhood, it seems safe to say he doesn’t have the bike commuting/transportation experience of many people I know.
To take just one example, I live 1.6 miles from Rosauers on 29th Avenue. Much of it is straight uphill so it’s not going to be everyone’s favorite ride. Since Spokane Transit's #45 and #46 run up the hill you could choose that option (did you know that we were the first city in Washington to have bike racks on every bus in the transit system?).

But there’s a bike lane for the majority of the ride and that uphill climb turns into a downhill “wheeeeee!” with my panniers full of bananas, English muffins, apples, and nonfat milk. Oh, and a Lindt orange/dark chocolate bar…. I earned it.

Other easy options: I can stop by the URM Cash and Carry on Hamilton—less than half a mile from the Riverpoint Campus where I work and accessible via the Centennial Trail (some of that infrastructure that could get funding if transportation priorities explicitly included active transportation).

Or there’s the Main Market Co-op on Main—less than half a mile the other direction from work and with a bike rack out front.

Believe me, I can be in and out much more quickly than someone who circles the parking lot for 10 minutes trying to find the spot closest to the door to minimize that exhausting walk.

Another biking bonus: When you bike, as I’ve pointed out before, there’s no time wasted wondering where you parked the car—it’s always in the rack or hitched to a sign post in front of the building.

A 10-minute drive at 40mph, which he considers “unrealistic,” means traveling approximately 6-7 miles-- a ride of around 25-30 minutes at an easy-squeezy pace of 15mph that won’t even have you break a sweat on your way to work. If you chose to ride you’d be getting your recommended 30-60 minutes of activity every day with no gym fees.

I no longer have kids in day care or elementary school but I know people who do (I’m talkin’ to you, John Speare) and I used to haul my little ones in a cart on the back of my bike. We went to the beach, to the store—all kinds of places. I’m not saying it’s easy or feasible for everyone. I’m just saying it’s not impossible the way he makes it sound.

The idea that you can't carry a laptop and some files in a pannier is so laughable I won't even bother to address that point. 

His assumption that we have to be cocooned safely away from a little bit of cold air doesn't make sense when you think about all the people who pay good money to go out into recreational settings like ski resorts and outdoor ice rinks. Why we should be willing to bundle up to have fun but not to get ourselves to work I don't know. (Since I'm not the Wicked Witch of the West I don't melt when I get wet, either.)

Sweeping generalizations? Always false. Think about it. 

And while you're at it, think about the mindset in public policy that created a world in which it seems impossible to someone that you could ride your bike to the grocery store. Change is long overdue, so thanks, Secretary LaHood.

A couple of related posts you may want to check out from cyclelicio.us:
  • Bikes="Economic Castrophe"?
  • Stewart Udall's letter to his grandchildren: Operating on the assumption that energy would be both cheap and superabundant led my generation to make misjudgments that have come back and now haunt and perplex your generation. We designed cities, buildings, and a national system of transportation that were inefficient and extravagant. Now, the paramount task of your generation will be to correct those mistakes with an efficient infrastructure that respects the limitations of our environment to keep up with damages we are causing."
The official policy from US Dept. of Transportation announced March 15, 2010

    My Reasons to Vote NO on Spokane’s Prop 4: A Really Long Political Discourse, Possibly Verging on a Diatribe, Running into a Rant

    Let me be clear: I believe city government has an essential role in making our city livable and workable for everyone. I believe taxes are the price we pay for living in a civilized society. I vote and speak out for the passage of measures to make Spokane a better place to live, such as Citizens for Spokane Schools and our “Yes for Kids” campaign every three years, the street bond that is improving the streets on which I commute via bike every day, and the sales tax that supports mental health services and law enforcement, among other things.

    I’m not an anti-government, anti-tax conservative. I’m not opposed to the creation of government programs that address market failures—in fact, I believe that’s why we have governments, because markets so often fail to protect the environment or provide services for people who don’t have fat wallets or a working vehicle.

    To make it even harder, I like and respect many of the people who are working with great passion for passage of Prop 4. I think the City Council's addition of advisory votes on funding if Prop 4 passes was an inappropriate effort to condition voter response to the measure, even though I agree with them that it creates unmanageable burdens on the City's budget. I am completely at odds with some of the people I find blogging against Prop 4, in disagreement with reasons they state against it, and in some cases downright alarmed by their overall political philosophies (I won't even link to the example I'm thinking of--he's seeing Communists behind every bush and doesn't deserve the traffic.)

    But I oppose Spokane’s Prop 4. Not only do I oppose it, I’m allowing my name, face and words to be used in ads against it.

    It would be easy not to—just to oppose it silently and vote no. Maybe tell a few friends who ask, but keep my head down so I don’t alienate anyone who might support me politically at some point if I ever run for office again (or lose a few friends on Facebook).

    But I believe it’s important for people who share progressive values, and who have legitimate concerns about a specific proposal from “our own side,” to be willing to speak up. The left is not a monolith, nor is it a bunch of mindless sheep lined up and waiting to support the latest new government program. I think the criticisms of current national health care reforms prove that point nicely.

    We have minds and we need to use them to analyze critically the proposals from our own—not just from the other side. Since the full text of the measure will not even appear on the ballot, it's particularly important for people to share their thoughts so voters might be encouraged to go read it for themselves before voting.

    I’m not opposing Prop 4 because I think it’s great to let developers violate the comprehensive plan or because I think everything’s fine and needs no improvement—far from it. I think we need an impact fee ordinance that really encourages density and true transportation choice, for example. Hey, maybe the City Council could get on this—if we had the right people there.

    I’m not opposing it because I disagree with every item on the list—there are some I support, had they been presented as separate items for individual votes in accordance with the state's requirement for single-subject measures to be presented to the voters.

    I’m not opposing it just because I think specifying fee-for-service as the mechanism for preventive healthcare is the wrong way to go about getting that for every resident who needs it—although I do, and I really wonder at the choice of this particular mechanism.

    I also wonder about declaring a right to healthcare services; only part of our health status is actually determined by access to healthcare services, preventive or not. They might have called on the city to do more to create an environment in which individuals can attain a better health status—something that’s actually doable within the core services a city delivers. A healthier city would expand its infrastructure, education and encouragement aimed at making it easier for more people to choose active transportation, for example, with related decreases in chronic preventable diseases such as obesity, diabetes and cardiovascular disease.

    I’m opposing it because, as written:

    It’s unenforceable. Some measures have specific mechanisms, others don’t, and some of the elements are simply illegal for a city government to undertake.

    It’s a big fat target for lawyers who sue and then get paid (by us, the taxpayers) no matter what the ruling in the end. Insert loud cha-CHING sound here. If the city wins its side of the suit, though, we don’t get our attorney fees covered, so it’s written to encourage anyone, from anywhere, to file suit against the city. That’s us. (At least, that’s how I read their language, since it refers to the prevailing plaintiff getting attorney fees reimbursed, but not prevailing defendant.)

    Oh, but it gets better: Those suits can be brought against any person for violating the terms of these amendments. Your potential liability isn’t just indirect, as a city taxpayer—it’s direct.

    It seeks to regulate sectors such as lending institutions and health care that are regulated at the federal level and which city government can’t touch.

    Let’s think about the lending provisions just a little more, shall we? Anyone recall a certain financial meltdown in oh, say, the last 18 months or so? Anyone think that lending institutions should have pretty high standards for the financial wherewithal of their borrowers to repay loans? Maybe this has something to do with our overall stability as an economy, which isn’t really in A+ shape right now?

    Maybe we should ask lending institutions to be fair-but-tough on everyone they lend to, rather than seeking to extend extra consideration to a borrower based solely on ZIP code rather than on ability to repay. People and businesses in Spokane already have “equal access to capital” as called for in this: They have to prove they’re worth lending to. If that bank or credit union is the place where I’m keeping my money, given that I want it back, I probably support this standard. Some great micro-lending programs are out there that could be developed and applied here. Oh, and there’s the Community Reinvestment Act, too.

    It includes a “right” to affordable and renewable energy, which is a service not even delivered by the city. No mechanism proposed so I don’t what you’d sue to have the city do here, but I’m sure there’s something.

    It grants rights to ecosystems. Since the river can’t come into court and sue on its own behalf, someone will have to do that. Setting that aside, just look at the right it grants the ecosystem: The right to exist and flourish. How on earth—how on EARTH—does the city accomplish this? I feel pretty good about my credentials as an environmentalist, but I honestly don’t get this.

    Despite the wording emphasis on our incredibly important and irreplaceable river and aquifer systems (a topic on which I’ve commented here and on the late lamented MetroSpokane blog), this describes not just the Spokane River Gorge, our sole-source aquifer, or a wetland that provides essential habitat—this includes every element of incredibly complex systems.

    This goes so far beyond existing environmental protections at the local, state and national level that I can’t begin to imagine the range, complexity, and pettiness, let alone the expense, of the suits that will be brought. And since Nature really is “red in tooth and claw,” things are living and dying every day, in every ecosystem. Human action didn’t bring an end to the dinosaurs. “Right to exist and flourish” isn’t one of Nature’s principles—it’s a human idea.

    Sarcasm alert: Why, only the other day I tore out some crappy little shrubs in my backyard because I want to plant raspberries so I can increase my food sustainability just a bit. Goodbye to a little bit of insect habitat in my backyard ecosystem (I don’t think the squirrels were getting any food off these particular bushes) and its right to exist and flourish.

    I absolutely want access to undamaged ecosystems. I just don't think we get them by bogging down the court system.

    It gives power to neighborhood councils that I can’t elect or un-elect. Not just the power to enforce the comp plan, as I’ve heard supporters say (and we do need better enforcement and real teeth for the comp plan). It gives them the power to veto anything that doesn’t square with the provisions of these charter amendments themselves. All of them.

    More on this because I think this is the heart of the matter, thanks to the bad City Council decision for the Southgate Neighborhood and the expansion of unnecessary big-box development that just encourages the American addiction to unsustainable overconsumption. If we really want to protect ecosystems around us, one way we can help achieve that in this area is by increasing density and containing sprawl. Spokane covers more square miles with far less density than cities like Seattle, San Francisco or Paris, France.

    If you increase density within the urban growth area, you’re going to have to—wait for it—build taller buildings, closer together. In someone’s neighborhood. Where they may like things just the way they are. So they’ll carry petitions, get signatures (not that many needed), and take it to the neighborhood council.

    If Prop 4 passes, instead of increasing urban density you’ll encourage people to build outside the city of Spokane, where they’re free to destroy a little eco-space and won’t have to wait for a neighborhood council veto, and you’ll encourage sprawl. I’m 100+% certain this is not the goal of Prop 4 supporters. Unintended consequences, folks, unintended consequences—the problem with every well-intentioned law or regulation.

    I served four years in the Idaho legislature and I’m pretty good at reading statutory language. One of my colleagues across the aisle, in fact, told me after I lost my reelection bid in 1994, “We’ll miss you. You used to read the bills.” (Not sure what that indicates about the other legislators—kinda scary.)

    I’m not trained as an attorney, but writing legislation gives you some practice in paying attention to details and language. So I see the holes, I see the inconsistencies, and in particular I see the difference between what the charter actually says and what its supporters tell you it says.

    I’ll take just one example—and a darned expensive one it is. In the Sunday Oct. 11 Spokesman-Review pro/con roundtable articles, Prop 4 backer Brad Read writes:

    “(The opposition is)… working hard to convince voters that the proposition would require the city to buy health care for all residents, which couldn’t be further from the truth. By intentionally misrepresenting it, they’re avoiding the measure’s clear language, which merely requires the city to convene a meeting of health care providers to determine how their existing fee-for-service preventive programs can accommodate all Spokane residents who need such care.”

    The proposition’s “clear language” does not “merely require the city to convene a meeting” no matter what someone asserts. The proposed charter amendment says this:

    “Residents have the right to affordable preventive health care. For residents otherwise unable to access such care, the City shall guarantee such access by coordinating with area healthcare providers to create affordable fee-for-service programs within eighteen (18) months following adoption of this Charter provision.”

    “The City shall guarantee such access.” Guarantee.

    The language laid out in the clause that starts “by coordinating….” provides for a specific mechanism. But if that mechanism doesn’t work, the guarantee is still sitting there, and I doubt the city leaders would be allowed to shrug their shoulders sadly if a meeting didn’t lead to the intended outcome and just walk away.

    This guaranteed access is the primary subject and object of that sentence. (I majored in English and Linguistics, which comes in handy when you’re parsing statute.) It’s the goal of Prop 4 supporters for people to get this access, not for the City to convene a meeting. It must be—otherwise why bother?

    Furthermore, it doesn’t say providers, and providers only, will extend existing programs. It says the City will coordinate with those providers to create programs. The City is the one charged with guaranteeing this access, so it holds the responsibility for seeing that the programs are created regardless of cost required to make them “affordable” to residents.

    Since these same providers suffer from lower Medicare/Medicaid reimbursement rates than other parts of the country, and everyone involved would have to find the money to pay the providers of preventive healthcare somehow, you tell me how this is accomplished without the City writing some mighty big checks drawn on taxpayer-funded accounts. (And someone, somewhere, funding and running the system that does the screening to figure out exactly which residents are “otherwise unable to access such care” and which ones aren’t, so you know who’s eligible for the care. This is a new definition with respect to eligibility for care, so it means extending the current system or creating a new one.)

    If you edit the charter sentence down by removing the dependent clauses (except the time frame just so you can ponder the cost and complexity), it looks like this:

    “…. The City shall guarantee such access … within eighteen (18) months following adoption of this Charter provision.”

    This one strikes close to home because when I served in the Idaho Senate, I sponsored legislation seeking to bring together a widely representative group of stakeholders—people with disabilities and mental health issues who aren’t well served under current systems, primary care providers, seniors, hospitals, insurers and others—to design a health care reform effort that would work for us in hopes of getting a Medicaid waiver and trying something new. Couldn’t get it out of committee, it being Idaho and all, and I took plenty of flack from lobbyists for even trying.

    This isn’t just a requirement to convene a meeting. It really isn’t. I sit now on the board of a healthcare foundation (which is not in any way associated with my political views, so I won’t name it here.) I can assure you of my commitment to making affordable preventive healthcare available to everyone. Having the city convene a meeting is not going to accomplish this, and for a supporter to say the charter amendment “merely requires the city to convene a meeting” appears to be a misunderstanding of their own mandate for a right to be guaranteed by the City.

    This piece has now officially crossed the line from discourse to diatribe to rant, which isn’t where I wanted to go.

    One more thing before we break up this lovefest, just because I’m a big fan of representative democracy in all its messiness and incomplete realization of its highest goals--

    Supporters make it sound as if these are the rights we need to protect us from business as usual, and that with their adoption things will finally start happening around here that will contribute to a more sustainable, more livable community. Since we’re still working on fully realizing the values of equality embodied in the U.S. Constitution more than 200 years after its adoption, I’m pretty sure that’s not the case.

    Yet every week issues come before the City Council that affect our ability to live according to values found in Prop 4.

    • How they will ever pay for street repair—that’s a biggie for me, since I’m (ahem) rather intimately acquainted with our rough streets as a bike commuter, and complete, well-maintained streets are essential for bike commuting and access to transit stops.
    • How they’re going to balance the budget in the face of falling revenues and rising healthcare costs.
    • How the City’s own practices as a purchaser of goods and services, a real estate/facilities manager, and employer could become more sustainable.
    • How we might improve our courts and law enforcement practices so people with mental disabilities get appropriate responses and the treatment they need.
    • Whether or not to vacate a particular street right-of-way, affecting future opportunities to add bike lanes or rapid transit and the texture of our urban fabric when smaller blocks are consolidated into larger ones.

    The answers to these will not be provided by passage of Prop 4. The votes that will affect the outcomes of specific issues requiring specific budgets will be taken by members of the City Council. We will still have representative democracy and we will still need good City Council members.

    Prop 4 has ended up being used as a deadweight wrapped around the necks of two good candidates despite their stated opposition to it. Specious analysis of campaign contributions is being used to imply hidden support, without regard for the ability of reasonable people to agree on some things and disagree on others. (For a nice discussion see Spokane Skeptic and DTE Spokane.)

    If those candidates lose, Prop 4 supporters have something to answer for every week when the City Council votes.

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