Notes on community, listening and humility

A few notes and observations from recent events and activity.

Pausing the 100 Evanston Stories project

I’m putting the 100 Evanston Stories: Navigating Trumpism project on pause. What I learned (once again) is that folks find it challenging to tell a story about their lives. I heard “I’m not sure I have a story to tell” and “I’m not sure which moment to tell you about.” I got stories (submitted via my online form) from folks who were comfortable recognizing moments and stories in their lives. Which means: I was missing all those folks who actually have those moments but were less confident in expressing them.

And getting stories from those folks is important.

Other challenges also undoubtedly contributed to the low uptake on story submission (it was an online form, it requires writing, it’s yet-another-ask to demonstrate your anti-Trumpism bona fides).

But I am really interested in the things that create hesitancy. A skilled interviewer can break through that hesitancy. But how might we help folks break through on their own? This is important if we want to take advantage of very brief moments of attention we get from community members whose voices are not often heard.

Observations: Civic community listening and engagement

I’m paying attention to stories in the local press that give me a peek into community listening activities. (I’m fortunate to live in a community with a quality local news publication). I’m particularly attuned to gaining insights about where my own professional experience has gaps. Where does civic community listening differ in important ways from organizational and educational environments? I’m also paying attention to where I see something that seems familiar. What am I seeing, and why?

A couple things popped up recently.

First: Folks can get really emotionally worked up about community issues. Like, really worked up. This is not just a condition of the current times. Communities always have moments when the community’s passion explodes to the surface. It’s happening here now with a long-term plan – Envision Evanston 2045 – and its impact on zoning.

The dynamic I see is something I’ve noted before. Dialogue can devolve into opinion slinging and power plays. It’s more compromise than co-creation. This is new-waters territory for me. Perhaps the open expression of passion serves an important purpose. But how does one facilitate (in the moment, or by design, or both) keeping that passion focused on servicing some desired outcome vs. winning a debate pitting one solution against another solution?

Second: Another take on the passion dynamic involves policy and practices. This story involved a petition by 100 residents in opposition to a proposed community garden in a local park. A lot of history and issues underly this scene. The park sits in a predominantly Black section of the city with roots that tie back to Evanston’s history of redlining. The 5th Ward – where this park sits – has a tight-knit community that continues to deal with health, environment and city services ramifications from that history.

Al of this is well known. The city’s leadership and the organizations involved in this community garden effort are truly knowledgeable and do effective community work – including with the 5th Ward. So: What happened? The city’s guidelines for community engagement were followed, apparently. Why did the guidelines lead to missing something that 100 folks felt passionate enough about that they took the time to sign a petition? At issue is a trade-off between open space and garden space, and rationale for the garden being tied to addressing the area as a food desert (which it is not).

I can assume some possibilities for the disconnect based on my experience with organizations. But given all the good, experienced players involved, I’d love to dig more into the details of what actually happened.

Third: A small, inexpensive practice to engage all of a meeting’s participants was put into action. Evanston has a reparations fund to repair some of the historical damage done to Black community members during the early to mid-20th centrury. This story covers a recent meeting of community stakeholders involved in the effort. There is a lot here about how things can work when the community co-creates, and how the stakeholders work on challenging issues in that spirit.

But what also caught my attention was one small moment. The leaders of the meeting passed out notecards for attendees to write down their ideas on what the city’s reparations committee might pursue next. Participants put their notecards into boxes labeled by topic (i.e., “wellness,” “education.” and “miscellaneous”). Yes! A small way to ensure 100% participation of folks who took the time to join the meeting.

Humility

It is so easy to critique. What’s freaking hard is making real progress.

In a podcast episode with some MSLOC friends, I once sounded off on the pattern that we see in organizations (and education) and especially with consultants. It goes like this:

• A problem is posed.
• Research is conducted.
• A solution and detailed plan in rigorously constructed.
• The plan is presented with authority and confidence.

“The problem,” I said. “Is that the solution and plan will be wrong.”

We really cannot forecast with certainty how the humans who actually experience our solution are different from the ones we had in mind when designing the solution. The environment changes. People change with the environment. Add a layer of random weirdness and you get the challenge.

Saying or presenting a solution with confidence doesn’t make it a successful solution. Results do.

The underlying message here is we all need a bit of humility. Me included. Assume you will be wrong and prepare to adapt.

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The photographs which accompany these posts are taken by me, and show different settings and views of Evanston (where I live). It is a visual reminder that this is the most important setting for belonging and contributing to community: our neighborhoods, our cities.