Last night, Duke University men's basketball coach Mike Krzyzewski became the winningest head coach in Division I men's basketball history when his Blue Devils defeated the Michigan State University Spartans 74-69 at Madison Square Garden. Since the game--and indeed, even before the game--the accolades have been pouring in. I, however, will not be joining in the chorus celebrating Krzyzewski, and it's not because he defeated one of my alma maters and rooting interests to get his 903rd, record-setting win. Frankly, after their participation in the Carrier Classic last Friday night, I'm not sure I care that much about how the MSU Spartans perform.
Rather, as I wrote about on this blog in March 2010, I find Krzyzewski rather despicable because of his response to the actions of Abar Rouse, who, while serving as an assistant coach for Baylor University's men's basketball team, recorded Dave Bliss concocting a detestable cover-up for the shooting death of one of his basketball players. I'll point you to that post rather than rehashing it here again.
What I find particularly interesting here is the juxtaposition of Krzyzewski's win against the situation unfolding with Penn State University football. As USAToday reported today, 59% of respondents in a poll suggested that the football program had become too powerful at Penn State. Meanwhile, as some have suggested, recently fired head football coach Joe Paterno may have become so big as the head of that football program that he arrogantly thought he called his own shots. Yet, in Coach K, we may be seeing the same kind of pattern developing. Now, that's not to say that Krzyzewski has been directly complicit in the kind of horrible situation in which Paterno has been. However, the kind of lack of sensitivity and moral judgment reflected in Krzyzewski's comments about Rouse lead to me think he is very complicit in the broader culture that helped produce the situation at Penn State. Meanwhile, given Krzyzewski's lack of good judgment in the Baylor situation, I'd want to be really careful about perpetuating the sense that he and his program are more important than the university for which they work and more important than the many other individuals who are affected by what happens at that university. Still, that's exactly what the commemorations of Krzyzewski's 903rd victory appear to be doing.
I don't blame Coach K for what happened at Penn State, but I do think that, especially given his reponse to the situation at Baylor, the kind of adulation that puts his college basketball program on a level akin to Penn State's football program shows that we haven't learned much from what happened at Penn State.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Friday, November 11, 2011
Staring on Veterans Day
I suppose many who read and/or hear what I have to say on this blog, on The Agon, and in other outlets would easily characterize me as being anti-military. Indeed, I'm sure to folks like Ed Rollins, I fall right in line with "many in the academic world ... [who] don't like our military."
Well, I would respond two-fold to such a charge. First, if one defines the military as a war production machine that places an emphasis on the development of weapons of violence, which I think happens too often in the kinds of spectacle that accompanies much done to "honor" the military, then yes, I will gladly stand as charged. As someone who wishes for a world with less violence, then I'm happy to be characterized in opposition to an institution that is defined by violence.
On the other hand, I would also respond by arguing that the military does not need to be defined so broadly and deeply in terms of violence. I recognize that physical action in the name of defense is, in all likelihood, a necessary protection for a nation. Yet, defense can take many forms, a good variety of which do not involve the development of weaponry and the proliferation of violent action, while they do involve diplomacy, dialogue, and imaginative means of defending one's own nation without causing harm to others. Insofar as we see and represent the military along those lines, then I am supportive of the military and very willing to commemorate the contributions that our military institutions and the individuals who work within those institutions offer.
With that in mind, on this holiday of Veterans Day, which unlike days like Independence Day, is designed to commemorate the military, I am planning to watch what might be my favorite “military movie”: The Men Who Stare at Goats.
While I can understand why and how many folks might not find the film entertaining, I like it for a number of reasons. For instance, I’m sure that part of the appeal of the film is that I saw the film for the first time shortly after my mom died, and it prominently uses the Boston song “More Than a Feeling,” which I quoted in my eulogy at my mom’s funeral. So, I connect on a very personal level with the film’s use of that song. I’m also sure that the film appeals to me as a Star Wars fan through all of its intertextual references to the film series, starting with its use of Ewan McGregor as its lead actor.
However, it also appeals to me because it offers a sense of imagination with which I identify. While meant at least in part as comedy, it offers possibilities for the development of human capacities along metaphysical and mind-expanding lines, a lot like The Force in Star Wars. I find these possibilities both fascinating and hopeful, and so I enjoy how the film presents them.
Meanwhile, the film presents these possibilities in connection with the U.S. military, as objectives that might be explored and developed in the name of defense. And, in that regard, it potentially challenges the overly hyped, overly generalized, and very dangerous celebration of the military for its use of violent force. To me, that seems like a much more appropriate text for commemorating the military on Veterans Day than things like this, which ask us to stare in shock and awe at dehumanizing spectacles of power.
Well, I would respond two-fold to such a charge. First, if one defines the military as a war production machine that places an emphasis on the development of weapons of violence, which I think happens too often in the kinds of spectacle that accompanies much done to "honor" the military, then yes, I will gladly stand as charged. As someone who wishes for a world with less violence, then I'm happy to be characterized in opposition to an institution that is defined by violence.
On the other hand, I would also respond by arguing that the military does not need to be defined so broadly and deeply in terms of violence. I recognize that physical action in the name of defense is, in all likelihood, a necessary protection for a nation. Yet, defense can take many forms, a good variety of which do not involve the development of weaponry and the proliferation of violent action, while they do involve diplomacy, dialogue, and imaginative means of defending one's own nation without causing harm to others. Insofar as we see and represent the military along those lines, then I am supportive of the military and very willing to commemorate the contributions that our military institutions and the individuals who work within those institutions offer.
With that in mind, on this holiday of Veterans Day, which unlike days like Independence Day, is designed to commemorate the military, I am planning to watch what might be my favorite “military movie”: The Men Who Stare at Goats.
While I can understand why and how many folks might not find the film entertaining, I like it for a number of reasons. For instance, I’m sure that part of the appeal of the film is that I saw the film for the first time shortly after my mom died, and it prominently uses the Boston song “More Than a Feeling,” which I quoted in my eulogy at my mom’s funeral. So, I connect on a very personal level with the film’s use of that song. I’m also sure that the film appeals to me as a Star Wars fan through all of its intertextual references to the film series, starting with its use of Ewan McGregor as its lead actor.
However, it also appeals to me because it offers a sense of imagination with which I identify. While meant at least in part as comedy, it offers possibilities for the development of human capacities along metaphysical and mind-expanding lines, a lot like The Force in Star Wars. I find these possibilities both fascinating and hopeful, and so I enjoy how the film presents them.
Meanwhile, the film presents these possibilities in connection with the U.S. military, as objectives that might be explored and developed in the name of defense. And, in that regard, it potentially challenges the overly hyped, overly generalized, and very dangerous celebration of the military for its use of violent force. To me, that seems like a much more appropriate text for commemorating the military on Veterans Day than things like this, which ask us to stare in shock and awe at dehumanizing spectacles of power.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
25 Years Ago Today -- You Don't Gotta Believe
Do you remember what you were doing exactly 25 years ago today (October 26)? I can tell you exactly where I was and what I was doing because it was one of the most formative moments, if not the most formative moment, of my life as a sports fan. I was in Queens, New York, in the house owned by my dad's longtime friend John Schunke and his wife, Eileen, watching Game 6 of the 1986 World Series. My brothers were there with me, as were John and Eileen's two young children and a babysitter. My mom and dad, along with John and Eileen, though, were not. They were at the game.
We were all Mets fans, and when the Mets made it to the World Series (for the first time in 13 years), the Schunkes were able to get tickets to Game 6. None of us knew, of course, at the time that this would become one of the most memorable games not just in baseball history, but in U.S. sports history in general.
I'm sure most of you know the story of the game. Tied at 3-3 after nine innings, the Boston Red Sox took the lead with two runs in the top of the tenth. Then, the first two hitters for the Mets in the bottom of the tenth were retired, leaving the team that had won 108 games that season down to one out, and eventually one strike, against one of the most storiedly cursed teams in Major League Baseball history, as the Red Sox had gone 68 years since their last World Series championship. Indeed, the scoreboard at Shea Stadium flashed for a moment "Congratulations, Boston Red Sox, 1986 World Champions." But, that congratulations to the Red Sox would have to wait another 18 years. The Mets rallied back with that one out left to score three runs, with the winning run of Ray Knight scoring as Mookie Wilson's groundball to first base scooted through the legs of Bill Buckner. The Mets would go on to win Game 7 two days later and, of course, take the championship in the process.
I've come to realize in recent years that I think this led me for awhile to believe that destiny exists in sports. It seemed to me, the Mets fan (and I'm sure Red Sox fans have understandably very different feelings), that the Mets deserved to win the championship, having won 108 games that year, tying the 1984 Detroit Tigers (who also won the World Series) for the most wins by any team in the 1980s. And so it was ... they did win, in dramatic fashion. And for years I held on to ideas about sports teams being destined to win, something that I think also for a while influenced my views on the world in general. It was easy for me to believe that people who seemed to deserve success would get success--a firmly entrenched belief in the mythology of the American Dream.
Unfortunately, it doesn't always work that way, and indeed, even determining who is "deserving" and who is not is very much an ideologically loaded judgment (again, just ask Red Sox fans about my idea that the Mets deserved to win). So, as I experienced many disappointments in my life that the 14-year-old me never saw coming, and as I learned much more about the ways in which social structures embedded in discriminations on the basis of race, social class, gender, religion, sexuality, and other identities have worked, I came to understand just how often there is no such thing as destiny and just how often destiny itself is an ideological construction, often built in inequities of power. I mean, just look at the concept of "manifest destiny" that helped fuel 19th century U.S. expansion as an easily recognizable example of exactly how the concept of destiny fueled oppression.
And, so, I still enjoy my memory of Game 6 of the 1986 World Series. Identification with the Mets has been a significant part of my immediate family's bond with one another. And this is one of the most important experiences in the history of that bond, with the entire family in New York and my parents at the game. Yet, while at one point in my life (in the late 1980s and early 1990s), I could literally not help but grin ear to ear and start jumping around with excitement at seeing video highlights of the game, my reaction today is much more subdued. I'm sure that part of that is age, as the experiences of adulthood life have for me, as they do for many people, muted the ways of feeling and expressing excitement. Yet part of it (and this part, I think, can be related to those experiences of age) also involves growth. Today, it would seem so much more insensitive to Red Sox fans (pre-2004 Red Sox fans, especially) to jump and down like that and go on and on about my perceived sense of destiny for the Mets.
So, even without consciously thinking about it, I simply don't react like that anymore. Rather, a quiet smile, largely in connection with the family bonding that this event signifies, feels so much more appropriate, for counter to the Mets' longtime slogan "You Gotta Believe," which my dad told me after the game he yelled out when the Mets were down to their last out, and which I'm sure went through the minds and lips of many Mets fans at that moment, I don't have to believe in any sense of destiny in order to find valuable meaning in what happened. And if I believe anything, it's that I think that's the more humane way to remember the event.
We were all Mets fans, and when the Mets made it to the World Series (for the first time in 13 years), the Schunkes were able to get tickets to Game 6. None of us knew, of course, at the time that this would become one of the most memorable games not just in baseball history, but in U.S. sports history in general.
I'm sure most of you know the story of the game. Tied at 3-3 after nine innings, the Boston Red Sox took the lead with two runs in the top of the tenth. Then, the first two hitters for the Mets in the bottom of the tenth were retired, leaving the team that had won 108 games that season down to one out, and eventually one strike, against one of the most storiedly cursed teams in Major League Baseball history, as the Red Sox had gone 68 years since their last World Series championship. Indeed, the scoreboard at Shea Stadium flashed for a moment "Congratulations, Boston Red Sox, 1986 World Champions." But, that congratulations to the Red Sox would have to wait another 18 years. The Mets rallied back with that one out left to score three runs, with the winning run of Ray Knight scoring as Mookie Wilson's groundball to first base scooted through the legs of Bill Buckner. The Mets would go on to win Game 7 two days later and, of course, take the championship in the process.
I've come to realize in recent years that I think this led me for awhile to believe that destiny exists in sports. It seemed to me, the Mets fan (and I'm sure Red Sox fans have understandably very different feelings), that the Mets deserved to win the championship, having won 108 games that year, tying the 1984 Detroit Tigers (who also won the World Series) for the most wins by any team in the 1980s. And so it was ... they did win, in dramatic fashion. And for years I held on to ideas about sports teams being destined to win, something that I think also for a while influenced my views on the world in general. It was easy for me to believe that people who seemed to deserve success would get success--a firmly entrenched belief in the mythology of the American Dream.
Unfortunately, it doesn't always work that way, and indeed, even determining who is "deserving" and who is not is very much an ideologically loaded judgment (again, just ask Red Sox fans about my idea that the Mets deserved to win). So, as I experienced many disappointments in my life that the 14-year-old me never saw coming, and as I learned much more about the ways in which social structures embedded in discriminations on the basis of race, social class, gender, religion, sexuality, and other identities have worked, I came to understand just how often there is no such thing as destiny and just how often destiny itself is an ideological construction, often built in inequities of power. I mean, just look at the concept of "manifest destiny" that helped fuel 19th century U.S. expansion as an easily recognizable example of exactly how the concept of destiny fueled oppression.
And, so, I still enjoy my memory of Game 6 of the 1986 World Series. Identification with the Mets has been a significant part of my immediate family's bond with one another. And this is one of the most important experiences in the history of that bond, with the entire family in New York and my parents at the game. Yet, while at one point in my life (in the late 1980s and early 1990s), I could literally not help but grin ear to ear and start jumping around with excitement at seeing video highlights of the game, my reaction today is much more subdued. I'm sure that part of that is age, as the experiences of adulthood life have for me, as they do for many people, muted the ways of feeling and expressing excitement. Yet part of it (and this part, I think, can be related to those experiences of age) also involves growth. Today, it would seem so much more insensitive to Red Sox fans (pre-2004 Red Sox fans, especially) to jump and down like that and go on and on about my perceived sense of destiny for the Mets.
So, even without consciously thinking about it, I simply don't react like that anymore. Rather, a quiet smile, largely in connection with the family bonding that this event signifies, feels so much more appropriate, for counter to the Mets' longtime slogan "You Gotta Believe," which my dad told me after the game he yelled out when the Mets were down to their last out, and which I'm sure went through the minds and lips of many Mets fans at that moment, I don't have to believe in any sense of destiny in order to find valuable meaning in what happened. And if I believe anything, it's that I think that's the more humane way to remember the event.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Oh! What a Night!
As the title would suggest, let's start off with a link to a particular song by Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons.
And, with that in mind, what a night it was for many a baseball fan, as the Baltimore Orioles came from behind in the ninth inning to defeat the Boston Red Sox, who were then knocked out of the playoffs moments later when the Tampa Bay Rays defeated the New York Yankees in extra innings, after coming back from a 7-0 deficit and tying the game with a 2-out, 2-strike solo home run by Dan Johnson in the bottom of the ninth inning. Meanwhile, the Atlanta Braves lost by one run in extra innings to the Philadelphia Phillies and thereby also lost out on the playoffs, finishing one game behind the St. Louis Cardinals, who won handily over the Houston Astros. For Boston and Atlanta, these capped off incredible collapses in the month of September. For St. Louis and Tampa Bay, this was the culmination of a month of climbing back into competition.
Still, this occurs amid conversation of expanding Major League Baseball's playoff structure, and that very prospect led a friend of mine to post the following:
Dear, Bud Selig.
Don't screw up the playoffs (See this season).
Signed, baseball fans
And, indeed, if the Major League Baseball playoffs worked like the NBA or NHL, where eight teams from each league made it to the playoffs, all four of the teams above would not have been playing to continue their seasons today. Rather, they would have been playing for home field advantage in the first round of the playoffs, while the bigger stories today might have been Cleveland losing but still holding off the Chicago White Sox to take the American League's eighth seed by one game and Cincinnati perhaps playing with a different game plan today as they fought to try to catch the Washington Nationals for the National League's eighth seed. Certainly, these could have still be dramatic stories, but perhaps they would have had a different meaning than the races do right now.
Still, as a potentially interesting exercise, I looked at what the first-round matchups would be if Major League Baseball followed that model. They would be:
American League:
Cleveland at New York
Toronto at Texas
Los Angeles at Detroit
Boston at Tampa Bay
National League:
Washington at Philadelphia
Los Angeles at Milwaukee
San Francisco at Arizona
Atlanta at St. Louis
Some interesting stories, perhaps, including the Nationals making the playoffs and some potentially exciting first-round matchups there. What do you think?
And, with that in mind, what a night it was for many a baseball fan, as the Baltimore Orioles came from behind in the ninth inning to defeat the Boston Red Sox, who were then knocked out of the playoffs moments later when the Tampa Bay Rays defeated the New York Yankees in extra innings, after coming back from a 7-0 deficit and tying the game with a 2-out, 2-strike solo home run by Dan Johnson in the bottom of the ninth inning. Meanwhile, the Atlanta Braves lost by one run in extra innings to the Philadelphia Phillies and thereby also lost out on the playoffs, finishing one game behind the St. Louis Cardinals, who won handily over the Houston Astros. For Boston and Atlanta, these capped off incredible collapses in the month of September. For St. Louis and Tampa Bay, this was the culmination of a month of climbing back into competition.
Still, this occurs amid conversation of expanding Major League Baseball's playoff structure, and that very prospect led a friend of mine to post the following:
Dear, Bud Selig.
Don't screw up the playoffs (See this season).
Signed, baseball fans
And, indeed, if the Major League Baseball playoffs worked like the NBA or NHL, where eight teams from each league made it to the playoffs, all four of the teams above would not have been playing to continue their seasons today. Rather, they would have been playing for home field advantage in the first round of the playoffs, while the bigger stories today might have been Cleveland losing but still holding off the Chicago White Sox to take the American League's eighth seed by one game and Cincinnati perhaps playing with a different game plan today as they fought to try to catch the Washington Nationals for the National League's eighth seed. Certainly, these could have still be dramatic stories, but perhaps they would have had a different meaning than the races do right now.
Still, as a potentially interesting exercise, I looked at what the first-round matchups would be if Major League Baseball followed that model. They would be:
American League:
Cleveland at New York
Toronto at Texas
Los Angeles at Detroit
Boston at Tampa Bay
National League:
Washington at Philadelphia
Los Angeles at Milwaukee
San Francisco at Arizona
Atlanta at St. Louis
Some interesting stories, perhaps, including the Nationals making the playoffs and some potentially exciting first-round matchups there. What do you think?
Monday, September 5, 2011
Laboring Through Some Thoughts Today
First of all, Happy Labor Day, everyone! At a time when laborers are under what may be as great of an attack as they have faced in decades, now more than ever is the time to celebrate laborers. Unfortunately, unlike the ways that the U.S. media and institutions fall all over themselves to celebrate the military on Memorial Day (and somewhat misguidedly on Independence Day), to celebrate reasons to give thanks on Thanksgiving (despite the insensitivities of doing so), and to declare the United States a land of great equality on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day (despite the civil rights inequities that persist in this country), there seems to be an embarrassingly inadequate amount of celebration of laborers by U.S. media and institutions today. Indeed, with thanks to Korryn Mozisek for bringing this to my attention, some have even called out Major League Baseball for such a lack of engagement with Labor Day.
Meanwhile, on a related note, if you've read this blog in the past, you may have seen where I have taken issue before with things suggested by BG News faculty columnist Phil Schurrer. While I haven't written about them here, it is worth noting that I have had many more disagreements with things that Phil has said in his columns in the time since I wrote that letter to the editor (and also that Phil and I had an amicable lunch shortly after that letter to the editor).
I do, though, want to start this blog post by agreeing with something that Phil said in his column that appeared in the BG News one week ago. After spending the column largely extolling the virtues of "right to work" situations in which union membership is not required, he argues that mandated union membership and/or mandated payment of union dues limits the choices of workers. His argument thus suggests that "right to work" allows workers more choice in this regard.
I agree. Mandated union membership and/or mandated payment of union dues do place some limitations on choices, and if one has the right to choose to work amid a strike or other collective bargaining action, then, yes, one has more choices. However, Phil's broader arguments about this going against the supposed "right to choose" rhetoric of liberals and progressives is an unfair application of a principle of purity to a situation that is a compromise to begin with.
Namely, unions themselves are a compromise position with our system of free market capitalism. Indeed, though Phil associates unions with liberals and progressives, and that is the dominant association in U.S. culture, in some ways unions are actually a rather conservative approach to management-labor conflict. Unions ultimately help keep the system of capitalism in place, but they attempt to provide labor with a greater voice in determining their working conditions within that system. As they help keep the system in place, they are, then, by definition at least somewhat conservative--i.e., they help to conserve the system as it is already established, which is at least one reasonable way of defining "conservatism." They are one choice among many for addressing management-labor conflict and representing workers voices. Other choices could include such things as reconstituting the structures of organizations to ensure more involvement of workers in decision making, significantly more fully developed government involvement in the processes of management and labor in an attempt to ensure that workers' needs are being met, redefinition of the very terms "management" and "labor" that affect the structures of work life and decision making, and a whole host of other possibilities that would be more radical and less conservative than the establishment of collective bargaining organizations.
As such, as I have suggested, unions are thus a compromise position rather than a more ideologically pure position that would call for significantly more radical social, economic, and/or political change. Like all compromises, they involve give and take from the parties involved. As compromises, they by definition compromise the purity or principles, with the hope that the tradeoff is worth the compromise. So, then, yes, unions do limit certain kinds of choices, but they do so with the hope that the other benefits (which would, by the way, include access to many other kinds of choices by virtue of the opportunities gained through collective bargaining) outweigh this particular loss of choice.
Meanwhile, Phil is awfully selective in how he applies his critique here. If he wants to critique this compromise that unions make and suggest that the "right to work" should not be compromised by unions, then I'm certainly willing to listen. But shouldn't we then also be applying this to the opposite side of the labor-management distinction? More specifically, shouldn't we also then be demanding a "right to work" of employers (and particularly of corporations)? If unions must offer individuals the "right to work," then I would think it's only fair that employers offer that as well. In this scenario, employers who wish to lay off workers must offer employees the right to work instead of just laying them off. Additionally, employers must show just cause in terminating employment of individuals because, unless those individuals have done things egregious enough to warrant termination (like violating others' "right to work," for example), they have a "right a work." If we want to add that to the conversation, then perhaps we have a lot of potential for a productive conversation.
Of course, doing so would harvest the potential for a much more radical alteration of the very structure of management and labor in the United States. It would also contain much more potential to upset the balance (or, more appropriately, imbalance) of power that employers--especially corporations--maintain. Yet, wouldn't that seem to be exactly the kind of upset that we need?
Meanwhile, on a related note, if you've read this blog in the past, you may have seen where I have taken issue before with things suggested by BG News faculty columnist Phil Schurrer. While I haven't written about them here, it is worth noting that I have had many more disagreements with things that Phil has said in his columns in the time since I wrote that letter to the editor (and also that Phil and I had an amicable lunch shortly after that letter to the editor).
I do, though, want to start this blog post by agreeing with something that Phil said in his column that appeared in the BG News one week ago. After spending the column largely extolling the virtues of "right to work" situations in which union membership is not required, he argues that mandated union membership and/or mandated payment of union dues limits the choices of workers. His argument thus suggests that "right to work" allows workers more choice in this regard.
I agree. Mandated union membership and/or mandated payment of union dues do place some limitations on choices, and if one has the right to choose to work amid a strike or other collective bargaining action, then, yes, one has more choices. However, Phil's broader arguments about this going against the supposed "right to choose" rhetoric of liberals and progressives is an unfair application of a principle of purity to a situation that is a compromise to begin with.
Namely, unions themselves are a compromise position with our system of free market capitalism. Indeed, though Phil associates unions with liberals and progressives, and that is the dominant association in U.S. culture, in some ways unions are actually a rather conservative approach to management-labor conflict. Unions ultimately help keep the system of capitalism in place, but they attempt to provide labor with a greater voice in determining their working conditions within that system. As they help keep the system in place, they are, then, by definition at least somewhat conservative--i.e., they help to conserve the system as it is already established, which is at least one reasonable way of defining "conservatism." They are one choice among many for addressing management-labor conflict and representing workers voices. Other choices could include such things as reconstituting the structures of organizations to ensure more involvement of workers in decision making, significantly more fully developed government involvement in the processes of management and labor in an attempt to ensure that workers' needs are being met, redefinition of the very terms "management" and "labor" that affect the structures of work life and decision making, and a whole host of other possibilities that would be more radical and less conservative than the establishment of collective bargaining organizations.
As such, as I have suggested, unions are thus a compromise position rather than a more ideologically pure position that would call for significantly more radical social, economic, and/or political change. Like all compromises, they involve give and take from the parties involved. As compromises, they by definition compromise the purity or principles, with the hope that the tradeoff is worth the compromise. So, then, yes, unions do limit certain kinds of choices, but they do so with the hope that the other benefits (which would, by the way, include access to many other kinds of choices by virtue of the opportunities gained through collective bargaining) outweigh this particular loss of choice.
Meanwhile, Phil is awfully selective in how he applies his critique here. If he wants to critique this compromise that unions make and suggest that the "right to work" should not be compromised by unions, then I'm certainly willing to listen. But shouldn't we then also be applying this to the opposite side of the labor-management distinction? More specifically, shouldn't we also then be demanding a "right to work" of employers (and particularly of corporations)? If unions must offer individuals the "right to work," then I would think it's only fair that employers offer that as well. In this scenario, employers who wish to lay off workers must offer employees the right to work instead of just laying them off. Additionally, employers must show just cause in terminating employment of individuals because, unless those individuals have done things egregious enough to warrant termination (like violating others' "right to work," for example), they have a "right a work." If we want to add that to the conversation, then perhaps we have a lot of potential for a productive conversation.
Of course, doing so would harvest the potential for a much more radical alteration of the very structure of management and labor in the United States. It would also contain much more potential to upset the balance (or, more appropriately, imbalance) of power that employers--especially corporations--maintain. Yet, wouldn't that seem to be exactly the kind of upset that we need?
Monday, July 25, 2011
The Ball is in Our Court
If you get a chance, read Mike Butterworth's most recent post on his blog, The Agon. I'm not going to go on much more here because I think you can read much of what I might want to say from Mike's post.
I do, though, wish to add that, as an Michigan State University alumnus, I am not, despite what MSU Athletic Director Mark Hollis says, appreciative of the opportunity for the MSU men's basketball team to play in this game, in particular because I feel very strongly that it is inappropriate to stage a baseball game designed, in the words of Rear Admiral Dennis Moynihan, to be "a celebration of service to all veterans" on the U.S.S. Carl Vinson, which was the ship that transported the body of Osama bin Laden after he was killed during a U.S. military operation this past spring. Regardless of what any of us think or feel about bin Laden; the events of September 11, 2001; and/or U.S. military action over the past decade, the U.S.S. Carl Vinson is now inescapably associated with these things, and public events that use it for any kind of celebration of the U.S. military or U.S. foreign policy cannot be divorced from the cultural and political significance that the ship gained by becoming known as the ship that carried bin Laden's body. As such, its usage for this event strikes me as reflective of an arrogant insensitivity to the positions and practices of our fellow nations and cultures within the contemporary global environment at a time when reflective sensitivity to humane treatment of the various groups and cultures that make up the world would seem much more prudent.
Okay ... so I did end up adding a little bit to what Mike said, but I'll stop there and end by asking you to please join me in voicing concern about this event taking place on the U.S.S. Carl Vinson and requesting that the event be moved to an aircraft carrier that does not hold the kind of symbolic significance that the U.S.S. Carl Vinson does. I have called the MSU Athletics Department. I have emailed the Morale Entertainment Foundation, which helped organize this event. I will also be sending an email to MSU Athletic Director Mark Hollis. In each of these correspondences I have and will voice my concern about the ship being used and my request that the ship be changed. I ask you to do the same.
Contact information for Morale Entertainment, including phone number and email address, can be found here.
Contact information for the MSU Athletics Department, including phone numbers, a postal address, and an email link for AD Mark Hollis, can be found here.
Contact information for the UNC Chapel Hill Athletics Department, including phone numbers, a postal address, and an email address for UNC AD Dick Baddour, can be found here.
I do, though, wish to add that, as an Michigan State University alumnus, I am not, despite what MSU Athletic Director Mark Hollis says, appreciative of the opportunity for the MSU men's basketball team to play in this game, in particular because I feel very strongly that it is inappropriate to stage a baseball game designed, in the words of Rear Admiral Dennis Moynihan, to be "a celebration of service to all veterans" on the U.S.S. Carl Vinson, which was the ship that transported the body of Osama bin Laden after he was killed during a U.S. military operation this past spring. Regardless of what any of us think or feel about bin Laden; the events of September 11, 2001; and/or U.S. military action over the past decade, the U.S.S. Carl Vinson is now inescapably associated with these things, and public events that use it for any kind of celebration of the U.S. military or U.S. foreign policy cannot be divorced from the cultural and political significance that the ship gained by becoming known as the ship that carried bin Laden's body. As such, its usage for this event strikes me as reflective of an arrogant insensitivity to the positions and practices of our fellow nations and cultures within the contemporary global environment at a time when reflective sensitivity to humane treatment of the various groups and cultures that make up the world would seem much more prudent.
Okay ... so I did end up adding a little bit to what Mike said, but I'll stop there and end by asking you to please join me in voicing concern about this event taking place on the U.S.S. Carl Vinson and requesting that the event be moved to an aircraft carrier that does not hold the kind of symbolic significance that the U.S.S. Carl Vinson does. I have called the MSU Athletics Department. I have emailed the Morale Entertainment Foundation, which helped organize this event. I will also be sending an email to MSU Athletic Director Mark Hollis. In each of these correspondences I have and will voice my concern about the ship being used and my request that the ship be changed. I ask you to do the same.
Contact information for Morale Entertainment, including phone number and email address, can be found here.
Contact information for the MSU Athletics Department, including phone numbers, a postal address, and an email link for AD Mark Hollis, can be found here.
Contact information for the UNC Chapel Hill Athletics Department, including phone numbers, a postal address, and an email address for UNC AD Dick Baddour, can be found here.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Charlie and Me
Today was going along rather uneventfully. I had just walked my dog and was getting ready to run a couple of errands when my wife came home. Upon entering the house, she said that there was an unknown black and white "foofoo" dog in our yard. I immediately went to the front window, only to see that the dog had crossed the road. My wife and I looked at the dog for a moment, wondering where the dog came from, and then decided we'd better go get it before it tried to cross again so that it wouldn't get hit, particularly because we live on a busy street. My wife quickly gathered a leash at our front door, while we both slipped on shoes, and we headed out ...
We were too late. As we opened our door, our neighbor was carrying the dog up to the yard from the street. The dog had been hit by a car.
We rushed forward to see how the dog was. He was still breathing, but he wasn't moving, and there was a little bit, though not a lot, of blood. We quickly learned, while my neighbor went to get his truck to take the dog to the vet, that the dog belonged to my neighbor's mother-in-law, and my neighbor was watching the dog for the day.
I sat with the dog in the bed of the pickup truck on the ride to the vet clinic, trying to comfort him and to make sure he stayed alert.
When we got to the vet clinic, he was still breathing, and upon checking him, the doctor said he was responsive, but the doctor was worried about internal bleeding. The doctor took him back to examine him more fully, while my neighbor and I waited.
I learned moments later that the dog's name is Charlie and that he was only about a year old. Moments after that, I learned he had died. The accident had ruptured his spleen, and he had bled out internally.
I drove my neighbor home a couple of minutes later, and I stayed with him until his wife and daughter came home. He was, understandably, very distraught, and his love for animals came through quite visibly. Indeed, the fact that he let Charlie run around came from a certain kind of love. He said he didn't feel right locking a dog up in a fenced yard, like it was abusive for the dog not to be able to be free. How, he asked, would people like it if they couldn't be free?
As I'm sure anyone who has seen how militant I am about safety and protection around my dogs can attest, I have a different view. I also, though, decided that this wasn't the time or place to go into that. My neighbor clearly felt the gravity of the situation, and some comment by me didn't seem like it would be appropriate or helpful.
I maintained composure as I gave support to my neighbor, but as soon as I left and walked back to my house, I could tell the sense of loss was hitting me significantly. All day, I have been haunted by the image of Charlie across the street, perfectly fine, just moments from the event that would so abruptly take his short life. I'm reminded, as I was three years ago when my wife and I came across a cat named Mocha who had been hit by a car, just how fragile life is.
I'm also reminded of how good it is to love animals. I only knew Charlie for about five minutes, and I hope I was at least somewhat of a comfort to him in his pain and shock during the journey to the vet. I deeply wish that the result had been better--that he had survived, not for my sake, not for my neighbor's sake, not for my neighbor's mother-in-law's sake, but for Charlie's sake.
Pets are wonderful companions. Take a moment to cherish your pet. Then, don't stop cherishing her or him. As I learned all too unexpectedly with the death of my dog Nellie Fox last October, and as I was reminded today by my brief time with Charlie, our dogs, cats, birds, hamsters, and other pets deserve everything we can do with and for them.
We were too late. As we opened our door, our neighbor was carrying the dog up to the yard from the street. The dog had been hit by a car.
We rushed forward to see how the dog was. He was still breathing, but he wasn't moving, and there was a little bit, though not a lot, of blood. We quickly learned, while my neighbor went to get his truck to take the dog to the vet, that the dog belonged to my neighbor's mother-in-law, and my neighbor was watching the dog for the day.
I sat with the dog in the bed of the pickup truck on the ride to the vet clinic, trying to comfort him and to make sure he stayed alert.
When we got to the vet clinic, he was still breathing, and upon checking him, the doctor said he was responsive, but the doctor was worried about internal bleeding. The doctor took him back to examine him more fully, while my neighbor and I waited.
I learned moments later that the dog's name is Charlie and that he was only about a year old. Moments after that, I learned he had died. The accident had ruptured his spleen, and he had bled out internally.
I drove my neighbor home a couple of minutes later, and I stayed with him until his wife and daughter came home. He was, understandably, very distraught, and his love for animals came through quite visibly. Indeed, the fact that he let Charlie run around came from a certain kind of love. He said he didn't feel right locking a dog up in a fenced yard, like it was abusive for the dog not to be able to be free. How, he asked, would people like it if they couldn't be free?
As I'm sure anyone who has seen how militant I am about safety and protection around my dogs can attest, I have a different view. I also, though, decided that this wasn't the time or place to go into that. My neighbor clearly felt the gravity of the situation, and some comment by me didn't seem like it would be appropriate or helpful.
I maintained composure as I gave support to my neighbor, but as soon as I left and walked back to my house, I could tell the sense of loss was hitting me significantly. All day, I have been haunted by the image of Charlie across the street, perfectly fine, just moments from the event that would so abruptly take his short life. I'm reminded, as I was three years ago when my wife and I came across a cat named Mocha who had been hit by a car, just how fragile life is.
I'm also reminded of how good it is to love animals. I only knew Charlie for about five minutes, and I hope I was at least somewhat of a comfort to him in his pain and shock during the journey to the vet. I deeply wish that the result had been better--that he had survived, not for my sake, not for my neighbor's sake, not for my neighbor's mother-in-law's sake, but for Charlie's sake.
Pets are wonderful companions. Take a moment to cherish your pet. Then, don't stop cherishing her or him. As I learned all too unexpectedly with the death of my dog Nellie Fox last October, and as I was reminded today by my brief time with Charlie, our dogs, cats, birds, hamsters, and other pets deserve everything we can do with and for them.
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