update on article 1

Well, so far, there isn’t much to tell. I looked up the teen center and found that they claim to get quite a few kids coming in each year, that they’re underfunded because their budget has been frozen for the last few years, and that they provide some services in addition to their activities and programs, free of cost… I know what they say; I’ve seen their “Brochure” so to speak, but what I’m wondering is what the reality is. After all, those “35000” kids that come through might include repeats… or not. How can I tell if I never go to see how they keep records? Also, $3,500 is almost as much as their yearly budget. What do they intend to do with this temporary windfall of a double funding? Will they invest it, or, instead, will they create something that they can’t sustain? Just talking to a representative doesn’t seem to be the way to go for me. If I want to see the real deal with this place, as I intend to, I should go around the talk and what they say and see it for myself. After all, that’s our job, isn’t it? To check our facts and sources to see if they match up with reality. I may go, I may not, but in any case, I think this warrants a closer look. And, when I have accomplished my goal, I hope to shed some light on this “Teen center” I never realized they had.

Another inbetween....

So, does anyone else actually look at the other blogs? (Aside from katherine of course. ) I read all of the other post-caucus posts and noticed the same, stark lack of feedback that I find on my own site. Perhaps most of you just aren't interested in hearing what your classmates have to say, or, are simply too busy to notice, or, perhaps you just never think to check your comp and your blog... I suggest we start looking at the writings of those in this course we know are active participants in this experiment in the odd, evolving art of blogging. Or, perhaps I'm wrong. Perhaps you're just waiting for someone to comment on your blog so you can reply. I admit, that was what I was doing: Waiting for someone else to take the initiative and post a comment on my blog, proving that they had done something since the first assignment, before checking out their blog and commenting on it myself. So I decided to be the one who took the initiative. I always say I want to back up my fancy words with actions, right? Well now I have, this time. Thanks for anyone who reads this, comment, and I will comment back. Or, if you instead decide not to take part in a community that we're trying to achieve here, there isn't much I can do, aside from focusing on those who actually speak. I can't listen when there are no words, and neither can anyone else. So now you have listened. Will you speak?

The craziest caucus Wyoming's ever seen (in a good sort of way)

In the past, caucuses for Wyoming MN were pretty mundane. We had about 14 people show up, we discussed the resolutions, then we (almost) all signed up to be delegates, closed up shop, and waited for the real thing. (That is, for the countywide meeting, where the really important stuff happened.) This Tuesday Evening was like nothing I’ve ever seen before. As my Mom and I walked in, shortly after 6, we already had more people sitting in the room than we have ever seen at a caucus before, including ourselves. As we proceeded to organize our papers and thoughts, the room slowly filled as we pulled out more and more tables. We ran out of ballots and so were forced to improvise by taking a scissors to a thick pile of plank paper. The straw pole commenced as my Mom and chairman Montzka tried to get the proceedings under control and under way. The results were astounding; as the township residents left for their separate caucus, the results came in. Rom. 68 Mc. 37 Huck.27 Paul 7 Taylor 2 (And, because of some confusion over the procedure, we had three votes for local candidates hoping to be endorsed by the party. We had two mayors vying for endorsement for the same seat, one from Chisago, the other, from Wyoming herself. We allowed them to make their speeches early, for, you see, our current mayor, for charity fundraising reasons, was obligated to return to a tent on a roof after making his short speech.) It was incredible. There were ten times the number of people we usually have. One Hundred and forty sat in that room, supporting the Republican Party… Or, rather, supporting what they believed the Republican Party needed to see, to hear, to know and to do. Most came for one reason and one reason only: They wanted to stop our party from walking down the left-ward road the candidates seem to have taken. After we broke up into two groups, the city and the township of Wyoming, we proceeded to explain to these newcomers what the duty and opportunity of the delegate is. We filled every single slot we were allotted and then some. These people, along with the long time, hard working conservatives, will join me at the county level, to discuss resolutions and help decide who moves to the next level… and who out party will endorse. We will choose whether we think that the candidates will follow the platform. The people from the city didn’t bother with resolutions… what’s the use of resolutions when the candidates will ignore what they claim to stand for? Though the township had the pressing matter of the annexation issue to grapple with, most of the newcomers are interested more in finding a way to support those candidates who will follow the platform than in changing it. What’s the use of changing the platform for the city, county, state, or anything else if they don’t bother to follow it? This turnout is, still, a great thing. It may have been caused by a problem, but we may finally have stepped toward a solution. Finally, people are getting up and doing something instead of sitting back and complaining. For that, I suppose I have to thank those such as Jason Lewis and other talk show hosts who exhorted people to get out and come to caucuses. I don’t care if you don’t like politics, or if you think there’s nothing you can do to change it all. If you care, then get up, get to caucuses, find the people you know and trust, then elect them. If not for a local office, then elect them to go and support the right candidate at the next level, to be one more vote in the right direction toward endorsing the people who you think really should be there. It’s not the system that’s the problem, or the “republican party.” It’s the fact that normal people who care enough to refuse to vote don’t bother to get up and try to fix it. True, “just one person” doesn’t seem to make a difference. But for every person who made the commitment to serve as a delegate, that’s one more vote against a bad candidate, against a bad proposal, and one more vote for the right ones. When we sit back and grumble, those willing to work get what they want at our expense. But when we get up and do our duty and take the reigns, they have to listen. Or else they’ll never make it into office. And that’s the way I believe it should be.

Letters to my Phantom Friend (Writing about Writing)

I feel like writing today, and so I shall. I like to write for myself, I actually have a backwater blog set to private so I can write my little heart out and pretend people read me. Tis odd, I know, but it’s what it takes to get me going at times. When I write, I generally begin by ambling through the slow undercurrent of thoughts that runs behind my conscious mind, or whatever minor happenstances seem to be worth mentioning. For today, my prompting is the former. I want to write about writing. ~So there we have it, I have my initial subject. Bravo! Many writers never get that far. If you don’t like to write, perhaps that’s one of your problems; you’re just too picky! I like to write about my family, my crazy cat, my opinions and philosophies, what I wish might be and what I dread, what I think and feel, and what I should do about it. So pick some random, yes, random, topic and start to run with it. Watch me if you will. (or, rather, read me.) Writing. I like to write; I generally tend to do it when I’m stressed or simply feeling listless. It’s a rather compulsive activity for me in truth. I write because I feel a sudden desire to, or, because I don’t, and I think I need to work through my thoughts. In my normal writing, my thoughts, beliefs, and feelings all come together with the happenings of recent days to create a string of reasoning and philosophizing that emerges as I work through my own mind and heart with whatever words spring to my fingertips. Writing is enjoyable; I can write stories. (in fact, I often do, I have already completed a few novel-length plots and worked half-way through a couple of them before I decided to set them aside for major revision) can talk to myself while talking to some phantom reader who listens to my every word. As I write the reader listens, as I explain and expound, summarize and try to help the phantom to understand, I gain a new understanding myself. This is the end, in both senses of the word, part of the point of my writing and the conclusion. This is where I come to a close. I find something from my writing, I discover something, I make a decision, even if the decision is to simply leave whatever be and move on, instead of dwelling eternally upon a worthless strain of thought. Watch for your ending. It’s not always easy to spot; you have to let your mental defenses down and simply explain. Don’t try to prove your point to your phantom, instead, try to persuade; try to help the phantom understand your life, your thoughts, your heart. Relax. The phantom doesn’t judge. The phantom won’t get mad at what you write, no matter how stupid or how badly you did on the post. The phantom doesn’t notice bad spelling of inferior wording, horrid grammar or whatever other problems you think your posts may have. The Phantom never minds. He listens simply because he likes to listen. The phantom is only your own mind trying to understand itself. So love your phantom and use him well. He’s an incredible tool if we simply learn to use him. After all, tis what he’s there for, right?

Communities...

After reading the various responses to this assignment, I believe I have a better idea of what I want to say. I never realized that "Community" could apply to so many things. I'm a part of many it would seem. The republican community of Chisago county, the community of the town of Wyoming MN, the community of venture scout crew 007, the community of homeschoolers, of the college campus in Cambridge, of Tutors at the campus, of my family and extended families, of the heartland express riders, and of the residents of our state and country. I'm a member of the community of Wyoming Lions, of the community of Grace Church Wyoming, and of more incidental interconnections between people. I am quite active in most of my communities. I originally restricted my view to our little town. I won't make that mistake again. My community, that of Wyoming MN, is, as every town is, not a community, but the center of a web that extends from here to New Jersey to China to the Philipenes to Chisago city, Lindstrom, the Twin Cities, New York, Los angelas, and many other places contining people who are connected to those who are connected to others right here. We're not just a suburb of Forest lake, we pre-date that town. But we're connected. Just as Wyoming melds into Forest lake, so Forest lake melds into other places and so on. How do you define a community? You can't. But we're all part of them.

Too close. . .

As I walked through this week, I considered the dilemma I am now faced with. The dilemma is, interestingly enough, the assignment. No, it’s not because I don’t know who to talk to or what to ask… on the contrary, the opposite is true. The assignment was to use the guidelines provided by a journalistic site on how to learn more about your community. We were to take what we learned and apply it by posting a blog entry that speaks about what we learned. But here’s my problem: I’m too close. I can’t speak upon what’s happening in Wyoming Minnesota because my family is in an odd place. Were I to go into what I learned about what’s happening, anything I say could and might be used against me or my mom. (Or others involved in touchy situations I have been asked not to mess with.) That’s politics for you I suppose, but the fact remains: We are, in many ways, the go-to people for many of the issues for our city and county, and we personally know many of those who are active in the community, be it in the role of public servants, politicians, those involved in service organizations such as the Lions or the Boy Scouts Of America. What have I learned about our community? Not much by following journalistic guidelines… but what I have learned, I cannot say. I suppose I could put this under being a responsible journalist. Not everything that is learned should be revealed. I believe that there is a time and a place for the truth to be revealed, and a time and place to protect others by letting a subject rest until the time to speak comes. Like insider trading, it’s just not fair. So for now, I’ll look for what I’m allowed to speak upon and let classified information remain classified.

The consequence of conserving words

Greetings, I'm Holly, in case you haven't read that already. I know this falls more under philosophy and life issues and such than what we're really aiming at in this class, but, since this post isn't one of our required ones, I think I'll indulge in my natural habit of musing. Recently, some conversations I've had have caused me to reflect on the atmosphere of our beloved Cambridge campus. Why is it that so many of us are isolated? Everyone minds their own business, that is, unless they know some other people. I wonder, is this because some people know each other from high school? Or perhaps through other means? Perhaps it is, in part, because there are so many people who are unsure about coming to college, that they're self conscious. Perhaps we all are. I know that I am, even if I do try my best to hide it. But here's what I have found: the more I worry about it, the more self-conscious I fell. And the more nervous I feel, the less likely I am to crack through my shell and truly make friends. Everyone seems to mind their own business, as a friend of mine said. So he retreats and stays within his shell as well. The friend I speak of is Hudson, an international student from Africa who came here to get the education he needs to make his home a better place. He pays twice as much, is ineligible for financial aid, and, on top of that, could be sent home at any time due to the fickleness of our government and the nature of such things. But that's beside the point. I've been thinking upon something he said: "In Africa, everyone minds every one's business." Not as in gossip, but like we used to be. That sense of community that used to be present in our nation long before I arrived upon this planet. And, understandably, he's lonely. Because he's different, we're intimidated by him. It's not racism, but that always present fear of the strange that rests in each person towards those they don't know, be it toward someone who's obviously different in a visible way or simply someone who melts into the background that you simply feel unsure about speaking with. I am, I admit, rather afraid of others. I push past it, but it's there all the same. In college, it's as if we're all afraid of each other. As if, when we do something wrong, everyone will turn their backs on us. Like every one's a potential threat. Is this the case? Are we afraid of something as insignificant as the opinion of others? I'm not sure how many others feel this way. It might just be a select few who feel out of place. I don't know. But I'm not going to worry about it again, if I can help it. So come out and talk to the person sitting next to you in class, smile and sit with strangers in the lunch area, take a chance and talk to someone you don't know for a change. This isn't high school, the dynamics aren't the same. In college, we have a chance to leave all of that social fear behind and start anew, even if some of the people are the same. Let them be self conscious and wary if they want. We're not responsible for the attitudes of others, but for our own and our own actions. So act! Who knows? You might make a friend. You might learn something. You might be surprised at how friendly everyone is. And, at the very least, you make this thing called college a little less stressful and isolating for someone like Hudson or Holly. I think that's worth doing. Any thoughts?