Alberta’s Liberal Party recently announced a twelve-point plan for improving political governance in Wild Rose country. There were eleven points worthy of serious discussion and – with apologies to my canine friends- one dog. The one that barked suggested that Albertans voting in provincial elections receive a $50 tax credit. Sadly, that woofer got most of the media attention and the good points didn’t receive the attention they deserved.
So why is paying people to vote a bad idea? Let me count the ways: Our troops are fighting and dying in Afghanistan to give the gift of democracy to the Afghanis, while the home folks won’t vote unless they’re paid. Paying democratic slackers to do their civic duty insults those Canadians who take their citizenship seriously and faithfully vote in municipal, provincial, and federal elections. It also sends a dangerous message to all citizens, implying that the state will absorb the heavy lifting of good citizenship. That’s a very dangerous idea.
Communities that are active, committed and engaged don’t happen by Divine intervention, government assistance or by accident. They happen because the citizens in such communities work darned hard.
Outside resources and agencies can play a positive role in community evolution. Federal and provincial government programs not tied to a particular political or economic agenda can assist. Organizations such as the Alberta Recreation and Parks Association (ARPA) provide invaluable access to resources and information vital to community building.
Even organizations like ARPA must be constantly aware of the risks inherent in doing too much. When the music stops, we must pay the orchestra. When government grants disappear, active, committed and engaged communities must self-finance. When ARPA moves on to other challenges, the active, committed and engaged community will continue to develop its’ own capacity.
Sustainable community evolution happens when a community has the courage and the commitment to empower itself. There are no silver bullets or magic wands. Active, committed, and engaged communities engage themselves in the painful self-examination, spirited discussion, and hard work of community change and evolution. They succeed because they have made the social investment required for success.
What about those communities where most folks don’t give a rip- where a handful of overworked volunteers do the bulk of the hard work of community building? How about the communities where the number of citizens choosing not to vote exceeds those who do? Those communities should begin writing their own community obituary, for their days as a functioning community are numbered.
Compared to the difficult elements of community development- consensus building and conflict management- voting is a piece of cake. When citizens no longer value community responsibility enough to exercise the right to vote, they turn their backs on participation in an active, committed, engaged, and democratic community. The bottom line: Paying people to vote simply enables bad citizenship and insults the efforts of true community builders. It’s a bad idea. Woof!
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Schools Make A Difference
Closing a school is a lot like breaking up a longtime love affair- it’s hard to do. School closure is a process that fills everyone involved with a sense of failure and loss, and the pain doesn’t go away quickly.
Some inner-city communities here in Edmonton are losing their schools, and their residents and the Edmonton Public School Board are feeling the pain. Residents know that the loss of their public school diminishes the intrinsic social value of their community and the market value of their homes. For Board members, closing schools is the exact opposite of what they want to be doing, which is growing public education.
Across Alberta, school closures are the inevitable result of changing demographics, past and current urban planning policies, rural depopulation, school board and Alberta Education policies, and community disengagement from public education. The reality is that most folks without kids in a community school don’t give a hoot about the school until the padlock looms. Then the community isolation from the school ends, but it’s much too late. School Board administrators present the public with the relevant provincial and local policies, the low enrollment numbers and the future projections of enrollment; all justifying the closure. The Board grits its’ teeth and closes the school.
Are school closures the predictable and inevitable? What can we do to strengthen the viability of community schools and public education?
Schools are vitally important to every one of us both socially and economically. That’s why community schools built, maintained, and staffed by public money should respond to local community needs. They are not the exclusive property of trustees, school administrators, teachers, students, or parents. School facilities should host and support community initiatives pertaining to adult education and family programs. Entire communities need to be involved in the design and program planning of new schools and retrofits of existing schools.
We need a public discussion on the allocation of the most important asset in public education- time. The amount of class time available for a child in a school day is the most valuable commodity in public education. Constant pressure on our schools to expand the curriculum, and the ever-increasing costs involved in public education make every in-school minute a priceless asset.
Then why in the name of sanity are so many school buses disgorging homeward-bound students in mid-day? On early dismissal days, some rural Alberta students spend more time on their school bus than they do in their classroom.
Would these kinds of changes save every school from closure? There will always be school closures that are painful for communities, trustees, and the students forced to relocate by the closure. That’s just an unpleasant fact. What is unacceptable is the continuation of the status quo.
What will change the status quo? Change will happen when ratepayers demand that their trustees and provincial politicians take actions protecting community schools and public education.
Public education is important to our youth, our communities, our economy, and our society, yet we only pay attention when it fails. The closure of schools across Alberta is a painful reminder that when it comes to public education issues, ignorance is NOT bliss.
Some inner-city communities here in Edmonton are losing their schools, and their residents and the Edmonton Public School Board are feeling the pain. Residents know that the loss of their public school diminishes the intrinsic social value of their community and the market value of their homes. For Board members, closing schools is the exact opposite of what they want to be doing, which is growing public education.
Across Alberta, school closures are the inevitable result of changing demographics, past and current urban planning policies, rural depopulation, school board and Alberta Education policies, and community disengagement from public education. The reality is that most folks without kids in a community school don’t give a hoot about the school until the padlock looms. Then the community isolation from the school ends, but it’s much too late. School Board administrators present the public with the relevant provincial and local policies, the low enrollment numbers and the future projections of enrollment; all justifying the closure. The Board grits its’ teeth and closes the school.
Are school closures the predictable and inevitable? What can we do to strengthen the viability of community schools and public education?
Schools are vitally important to every one of us both socially and economically. That’s why community schools built, maintained, and staffed by public money should respond to local community needs. They are not the exclusive property of trustees, school administrators, teachers, students, or parents. School facilities should host and support community initiatives pertaining to adult education and family programs. Entire communities need to be involved in the design and program planning of new schools and retrofits of existing schools.
We need a public discussion on the allocation of the most important asset in public education- time. The amount of class time available for a child in a school day is the most valuable commodity in public education. Constant pressure on our schools to expand the curriculum, and the ever-increasing costs involved in public education make every in-school minute a priceless asset.
Then why in the name of sanity are so many school buses disgorging homeward-bound students in mid-day? On early dismissal days, some rural Alberta students spend more time on their school bus than they do in their classroom.
Would these kinds of changes save every school from closure? There will always be school closures that are painful for communities, trustees, and the students forced to relocate by the closure. That’s just an unpleasant fact. What is unacceptable is the continuation of the status quo.
What will change the status quo? Change will happen when ratepayers demand that their trustees and provincial politicians take actions protecting community schools and public education.
Public education is important to our youth, our communities, our economy, and our society, yet we only pay attention when it fails. The closure of schools across Alberta is a painful reminder that when it comes to public education issues, ignorance is NOT bliss.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
A Summer Of Opportunity
Before long, we will be enjoying another Alberta summer. This summer is special, for the scent of wild roses drifting across the breadth of Alberta will herald the approach of local political renewal.
Yes, we are approaching Alberta’s tri-annual municipal elections. On October 18th, we will have the opportunity to re-seed Alberta’s rich soil of grassroots democracy. Can we expect that most Albertans will do their part to bring grassroots democracy to Wild Rose Country?
Only if we also expect Stephen Harper and Michael Ignatieff to quit federal politics to run off together to Wainwright and open a sushi restaurant. Given our abysmal record of political engagement, we’ll be lucky to get enough candidates in some communities to fill the School Board and Municipal Council seats by acclamation.
That’s a dismal state of affairs. Political representation at the Municipal Council and School Board level is the pinnacle of grass roots governance. Decisions made at those Board tables directly affect people’s daily lives. Their policies shape the community’s future.
Yet too many of us don’t participate in local democratic renewal. We don’t stand for office, actively support someone, or even bother to vote. It’s simpler to studiously avoid the process and the issues shaping our community’s future.
Even when we engage in the process, we use the filter of immediate self-interest as our decision-making guide. “Good old Bill or Mike or Hazel promises to lower taxes and that’s good enough for me. Why should I ask them where they intend to find the bucks to clear the streets and operate the landfill after they’ve cut our taxes? That’s just a minor detail. We always get grants from the province. Somebody else can worry about the future; not me” It’s a familiar refrain across the province.
That attitude raises three interesting questions. Why should our provincial government treat communities choosing not to invest in themselves the same as those that do? Should the province tax Peter, who regularly invests his own money in maintaining his property, to give to Paul, who doesn’t? How can we develop strong, self-reliant communities when our provincial government grants disempower local governments and create a municipal culture of dependency?
The impact of that culture of municipal dependency is what drives the Old Prairie Dog’s First Rule of Municipal Politics: The difficulty in recruiting strong municipal politicians increases in direct proportion to the degree of mess left by their predecessors.
That’s why we are truly approaching the summer of opportunity for many Alberta communities. Now is the time to seek out people with a community vision and the willingness to champion public investment that will provide local governments with the resources required to build active, engaged, and committed communities.
That’s the challenge facing every Albertan who takes the concept of democracy seriously. My challenge to you is this: If not you, then who? Your summer of opportunity awaits.
Yes, we are approaching Alberta’s tri-annual municipal elections. On October 18th, we will have the opportunity to re-seed Alberta’s rich soil of grassroots democracy. Can we expect that most Albertans will do their part to bring grassroots democracy to Wild Rose Country?
Only if we also expect Stephen Harper and Michael Ignatieff to quit federal politics to run off together to Wainwright and open a sushi restaurant. Given our abysmal record of political engagement, we’ll be lucky to get enough candidates in some communities to fill the School Board and Municipal Council seats by acclamation.
That’s a dismal state of affairs. Political representation at the Municipal Council and School Board level is the pinnacle of grass roots governance. Decisions made at those Board tables directly affect people’s daily lives. Their policies shape the community’s future.
Yet too many of us don’t participate in local democratic renewal. We don’t stand for office, actively support someone, or even bother to vote. It’s simpler to studiously avoid the process and the issues shaping our community’s future.
Even when we engage in the process, we use the filter of immediate self-interest as our decision-making guide. “Good old Bill or Mike or Hazel promises to lower taxes and that’s good enough for me. Why should I ask them where they intend to find the bucks to clear the streets and operate the landfill after they’ve cut our taxes? That’s just a minor detail. We always get grants from the province. Somebody else can worry about the future; not me” It’s a familiar refrain across the province.
That attitude raises three interesting questions. Why should our provincial government treat communities choosing not to invest in themselves the same as those that do? Should the province tax Peter, who regularly invests his own money in maintaining his property, to give to Paul, who doesn’t? How can we develop strong, self-reliant communities when our provincial government grants disempower local governments and create a municipal culture of dependency?
The impact of that culture of municipal dependency is what drives the Old Prairie Dog’s First Rule of Municipal Politics: The difficulty in recruiting strong municipal politicians increases in direct proportion to the degree of mess left by their predecessors.
That’s why we are truly approaching the summer of opportunity for many Alberta communities. Now is the time to seek out people with a community vision and the willingness to champion public investment that will provide local governments with the resources required to build active, engaged, and committed communities.
That’s the challenge facing every Albertan who takes the concept of democracy seriously. My challenge to you is this: If not you, then who? Your summer of opportunity awaits.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Lessons From St. Albert
Early this month, a nasty community controversy put the quiet municipality of St. Albert on the national media map. A husband and wife owning a local business wrote a letter to St. Albert’s Municipal Council opposing a proposed Habitat for Humanity project in St. Albert. The letter, reprinted in the St. Albert Gazette, is available online at http://www.stalbertgazette.com/article/20100403/SAG0904/304039974/-1/SAG09/higher-earning-families-part-of-st-alberts-appeals.
The couple objected to the perceived community impact of the Habitat for Humanity proposal. They expressed fears that an upscale, affluent community like St. Albert would suffer increased crime and higher local taxes due to the influx of less affluent people. The authors observed that the children of these poor families would not fit into the earthly paradise that is St. Albert.
The letter upset a lot of folks. According to one of the authors, even his mother found letter’s tone and content offensive. The blogosphere erupted into a predictable firestorm of condemnation of the letter and its’ authors. There were even calls for a boycott of the couple’s business. The writers’ few defenders fell back on the stale old “anti-political correctness” rant.
Yet while the contents of the letter are offensive, the letter itself is commendable on three counts. It raises an issue lurking unacknowledged in affluent Canadian communities from coast to coast- community diversity. Do we want our communities to reflect Canada’s economic and social spectrum, or do we want to live beside folks who look, smell, and live like us? If we are as egalitarian as we profess to be, why are developers across Canada- including St. Albert- marketing upscale new communities with an appeal to “exclusivity and privilege”?
We need housing for the economically disadvantaged, the physically and mentally challenged, and individuals re-integrating into society. Yet such housing inevitably triggers nasty NIMBY eruptions. Though its’ content was malodorous, the St. Albert letter surfaced community diversity as a valid community issue.
The letter to Council also presented the issue in a responsible manner. There was not a backhanded, anonymous, on-line campaign fuelling community anger. Instead, the authors wrote and signed a public letter to the people elected to make decisions on their behalf.
The letter’s authors, when confronted with a firestorm of anger and criticism, had the grace to publicly recant and apologize. In doing so, they showed more maturity than some of their critics.
Community diversity is an issue requiring respectful discussion. The question is: Are economically and socially- segregated communities consistent with our community value structure? That controversial letter to St. Albert Council contains a powerful lesson. One can fundamentally disagree with the letter’s content- and I do- but we can’t duck the issue it raises.
The couple objected to the perceived community impact of the Habitat for Humanity proposal. They expressed fears that an upscale, affluent community like St. Albert would suffer increased crime and higher local taxes due to the influx of less affluent people. The authors observed that the children of these poor families would not fit into the earthly paradise that is St. Albert.
The letter upset a lot of folks. According to one of the authors, even his mother found letter’s tone and content offensive. The blogosphere erupted into a predictable firestorm of condemnation of the letter and its’ authors. There were even calls for a boycott of the couple’s business. The writers’ few defenders fell back on the stale old “anti-political correctness” rant.
Yet while the contents of the letter are offensive, the letter itself is commendable on three counts. It raises an issue lurking unacknowledged in affluent Canadian communities from coast to coast- community diversity. Do we want our communities to reflect Canada’s economic and social spectrum, or do we want to live beside folks who look, smell, and live like us? If we are as egalitarian as we profess to be, why are developers across Canada- including St. Albert- marketing upscale new communities with an appeal to “exclusivity and privilege”?
We need housing for the economically disadvantaged, the physically and mentally challenged, and individuals re-integrating into society. Yet such housing inevitably triggers nasty NIMBY eruptions. Though its’ content was malodorous, the St. Albert letter surfaced community diversity as a valid community issue.
The letter to Council also presented the issue in a responsible manner. There was not a backhanded, anonymous, on-line campaign fuelling community anger. Instead, the authors wrote and signed a public letter to the people elected to make decisions on their behalf.
The letter’s authors, when confronted with a firestorm of anger and criticism, had the grace to publicly recant and apologize. In doing so, they showed more maturity than some of their critics.
Community diversity is an issue requiring respectful discussion. The question is: Are economically and socially- segregated communities consistent with our community value structure? That controversial letter to St. Albert Council contains a powerful lesson. One can fundamentally disagree with the letter’s content- and I do- but we can’t duck the issue it raises.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
What Drives Our Values?
Daily news reports from France and Quebec highlight the serious social upheaval resulting from conflicting community and personal values. The debates over the right of religious Muslim women to cover their faces in public are heated, nasty, and divisive. That rancor is not surprising, for our values shape who we are and how we live as individuals and communities.
Yet we often fail to examine what shapes and drives those values. What lies at the root of the powerful values? Are those particular drivers valid? Do they represent the individuals we want to be and the kind of society in which we want to live?
The debate over the niqab- the full-face veil worn by some devout Muslim women- provides fertile ground for this kind of examination. From the viewpoint of the Muslim women opting to wear niqab, it is fundamental to the way they publicly conduct themselves as devout practitioners of their faith. They believe that the Koran dictates the sight of their uncovered faces will cause carnal thoughts in men not their husbands.
Yet there has been long-standing and ongoing debate among respected Muslim scholars as to whether or not wearing niqab is required or optional for women. For those who view wearing the full veil as fundamental to their faith, the question is simple: In a free society, what right has the state to determine and dictate how they shall observe the tenets of their religion?
On the other hand, the perceived sexist implications of niqab offend many women who fought the long and hard battle to ensure societal and workplace equity. They ask a powerful question: Why should women cover their faces and bodies to ensure that men don’t think prurient thoughts? Are men no different than rutting animals?
There are also those driven by the memories of September 11th, 2001. They fear that the niqab may hide the faces of terrorists wishing to do harm to western society, and believe that exposing the faces of those wearing niqab will increase public safety.
Then there are those who see a middle ground. These individuals believe that in the general course of social life, a free society should allow people to wear what they wish. However, they also see a need for citizens to show their faces for specific purposes- for purposes of universal identification such as driver’s licenses and travel security checks.
I’m in the latter group. I can see the need for facial exposure in situations where all citizens comply with a process that is demonstrably for the public good. Beyond that, I am a believer in civil liberties. What people wear- or don’t wear- is their own business, regardless of race, color, or creed. I cherish the opportunity to live a life free of oppression or fear. No one- terrorist or parliamentarian- will take those freedoms away from me.
You may disagree, and that’s as it should be. If we have carefully considered our values, and what drives those values, we can sit down and have a respectful conversation and either come to agreement or agree to disagree. That’s the best way to avoid the ugliness afoot in France and Quebec.
Yet we often fail to examine what shapes and drives those values. What lies at the root of the powerful values? Are those particular drivers valid? Do they represent the individuals we want to be and the kind of society in which we want to live?
The debate over the niqab- the full-face veil worn by some devout Muslim women- provides fertile ground for this kind of examination. From the viewpoint of the Muslim women opting to wear niqab, it is fundamental to the way they publicly conduct themselves as devout practitioners of their faith. They believe that the Koran dictates the sight of their uncovered faces will cause carnal thoughts in men not their husbands.
Yet there has been long-standing and ongoing debate among respected Muslim scholars as to whether or not wearing niqab is required or optional for women. For those who view wearing the full veil as fundamental to their faith, the question is simple: In a free society, what right has the state to determine and dictate how they shall observe the tenets of their religion?
On the other hand, the perceived sexist implications of niqab offend many women who fought the long and hard battle to ensure societal and workplace equity. They ask a powerful question: Why should women cover their faces and bodies to ensure that men don’t think prurient thoughts? Are men no different than rutting animals?
There are also those driven by the memories of September 11th, 2001. They fear that the niqab may hide the faces of terrorists wishing to do harm to western society, and believe that exposing the faces of those wearing niqab will increase public safety.
Then there are those who see a middle ground. These individuals believe that in the general course of social life, a free society should allow people to wear what they wish. However, they also see a need for citizens to show their faces for specific purposes- for purposes of universal identification such as driver’s licenses and travel security checks.
I’m in the latter group. I can see the need for facial exposure in situations where all citizens comply with a process that is demonstrably for the public good. Beyond that, I am a believer in civil liberties. What people wear- or don’t wear- is their own business, regardless of race, color, or creed. I cherish the opportunity to live a life free of oppression or fear. No one- terrorist or parliamentarian- will take those freedoms away from me.
You may disagree, and that’s as it should be. If we have carefully considered our values, and what drives those values, we can sit down and have a respectful conversation and either come to agreement or agree to disagree. That’s the best way to avoid the ugliness afoot in France and Quebec.
Monday, March 15, 2010
The Streets of Springtime
I’ve just returned to Edmonton from a two-week holiday on Saltspring Island. Our traveling threesome-my partner Barb and our English cocker spaniel pup Zak and I - had a great time enjoying the many attributes of Saltspring.
Being a spaniel, Zak is nose-driven, and he was overwhelmed with a whole new array of scents, as well as the croaking ravens and the miniature Island deer. As his primary walker, I experienced his excitement at this new place, and I learned something new about my personal community values.
Community cleanliness is very important to me. I don’t like litter. Those of you who have experience walking a pup know how attractive street trash is to dogs. That attraction means that we clearly see the litter on sidewalks and streets.
There is a huge difference between walking Zak in Edmonton and on Saltspring. Why? There was almost no street or road litter on Saltspring. One sees pinecones, earthworms- even banana slugs-, but none of the coffee cups or empty cigarette packages or takeout food wrappers or flyaway advertising inserts that too often blight the streets and sidewalks of Edmonton.
Why does this difference exist? I have a hunch that it has a lot to do with community values. There is a very powerful community desire and determination to have a clean environment. Students clean the area around their schools, which develops a strong sense of civic responsibility. Service clubs and individuals regularly pick up the small amounts of discarded refuse. As a result, individuals in the Saltspring community feel personally responsible for the cleanliness of their community.
Some of these initiatives are not unique to Saltspring Island. There are communities in Alberta- Alix, which is just east of Red Deer comes to mind- with the same kind of community ethic. Yet I suspect that there are also communities in Alberta where community cleanliness is not a respected value.
Communities can take simple steps to decrease public litter. A municipality can work with advertisers and publishers to stop distribution of advertising and newspapers to households without a secure mailbox. Community associations can work with fast-food outlets to develop outlet-based anti-litter campaigns. School boards can develop anti-litter programs directly involving and empowering students. Dog owners not cleaning up after their pets can be fined.
We’re back home, and Zak and I will continue to navigate the littered springtime streets of southwest Edmonton, picking up trash as we go. We’re certainly open to a change of scenery, so if your community shares our values regarding clean streets, we’d love to visit!
Being a spaniel, Zak is nose-driven, and he was overwhelmed with a whole new array of scents, as well as the croaking ravens and the miniature Island deer. As his primary walker, I experienced his excitement at this new place, and I learned something new about my personal community values.
Community cleanliness is very important to me. I don’t like litter. Those of you who have experience walking a pup know how attractive street trash is to dogs. That attraction means that we clearly see the litter on sidewalks and streets.
There is a huge difference between walking Zak in Edmonton and on Saltspring. Why? There was almost no street or road litter on Saltspring. One sees pinecones, earthworms- even banana slugs-, but none of the coffee cups or empty cigarette packages or takeout food wrappers or flyaway advertising inserts that too often blight the streets and sidewalks of Edmonton.
Why does this difference exist? I have a hunch that it has a lot to do with community values. There is a very powerful community desire and determination to have a clean environment. Students clean the area around their schools, which develops a strong sense of civic responsibility. Service clubs and individuals regularly pick up the small amounts of discarded refuse. As a result, individuals in the Saltspring community feel personally responsible for the cleanliness of their community.
Some of these initiatives are not unique to Saltspring Island. There are communities in Alberta- Alix, which is just east of Red Deer comes to mind- with the same kind of community ethic. Yet I suspect that there are also communities in Alberta where community cleanliness is not a respected value.
Communities can take simple steps to decrease public litter. A municipality can work with advertisers and publishers to stop distribution of advertising and newspapers to households without a secure mailbox. Community associations can work with fast-food outlets to develop outlet-based anti-litter campaigns. School boards can develop anti-litter programs directly involving and empowering students. Dog owners not cleaning up after their pets can be fined.
We’re back home, and Zak and I will continue to navigate the littered springtime streets of southwest Edmonton, picking up trash as we go. We’re certainly open to a change of scenery, so if your community shares our values regarding clean streets, we’d love to visit!
Saturday, February 27, 2010
How Environment Shapes Community Values
I spent a good chunk of my life living in the shade of the Cypress Hills in Southeastern Alberta before moving to the bright lights of Edmonton. It’s been an interesting transition, and it’s taught me how our environment shapes the way in which we apply community values.
Let’s consider the value of neighbourliness. Most Albertans place a high value on being good neighbours. Yet that value gets expressed much differently in the Cypress Hills than it is in Edmonton.
In the Cypress Hills country, there’s a lot more miles than there are folks to occupy the landscape. There aren’t people around us to bail us out of trouble.
Edmonton is a big city, with all the people, traffic, and congestion that goes with urban life. People surround me on the street, and every conceivable business and service is at my fingertips.
Yet a person in trouble may get help quicker in the Cypress Hills than in Edmonton. It sounds contradictory, doesn’t it– like starving in a supermarket, but that’s the reality of life today. It’s also an excellent example of how our physical environment can shape our values.
Let’s consider a scenario where you’re a gent driving home late on a bitterly cold winter night in Edmonton. You see a female driver stopped at the side of the road struggling to change a tire. Do you stop to lend a hand? Chances are that you won’t. It’s late, she wasn’t really signaling for help, she can use her cell phone to call for help– you know this script. You focus on the road ahead and boogie on home.
Now let’s shift the locale to the Graburn Road that winds its’ way from the TransCanada Highway to the Cypress Hills. You’re a Cypress Hills rancher, it’s late at night, and as you come around a bend you see a truck up ahead in the snowy ditch. As you get closer, you see it is Fred Stumpkopf. Your family and the Stumpkopfs have been feuding for three generations. Surely you too would focus on the road ahead and boogie on home?
Not on your life. You would stop, grab your snow shovel, and help Fred get his truck back on the road. Between the two of you, there wouldn’t be ten words spoken, including his parting; “Thanks for the help” before you each continued on your way.
That’s because one of the cardinal sins in the Cypress Hills country is leaving someone stuck. It’s right up there with starving your livestock and having a portrait of Pierre Trudeau hanging in your living room.
In the Cypress Hills, the isolation has created a powerful need for mutual support, and that need has driven a dominant community value that demands personal responsibility for others.
Here in Edmonton, the complexity of urban life has eroded our desire to help our fellow man. Again, our environment shapes our values. There’s no “right” or “wrong’ value sets here; just the reality of living in communities with different environments.
Where does that leave me? Which values have I adopted? The Cypress Hills has shaped my values, and for that I’ll be forever grateful.
Let’s consider the value of neighbourliness. Most Albertans place a high value on being good neighbours. Yet that value gets expressed much differently in the Cypress Hills than it is in Edmonton.
In the Cypress Hills country, there’s a lot more miles than there are folks to occupy the landscape. There aren’t people around us to bail us out of trouble.
Edmonton is a big city, with all the people, traffic, and congestion that goes with urban life. People surround me on the street, and every conceivable business and service is at my fingertips.
Yet a person in trouble may get help quicker in the Cypress Hills than in Edmonton. It sounds contradictory, doesn’t it– like starving in a supermarket, but that’s the reality of life today. It’s also an excellent example of how our physical environment can shape our values.
Let’s consider a scenario where you’re a gent driving home late on a bitterly cold winter night in Edmonton. You see a female driver stopped at the side of the road struggling to change a tire. Do you stop to lend a hand? Chances are that you won’t. It’s late, she wasn’t really signaling for help, she can use her cell phone to call for help– you know this script. You focus on the road ahead and boogie on home.
Now let’s shift the locale to the Graburn Road that winds its’ way from the TransCanada Highway to the Cypress Hills. You’re a Cypress Hills rancher, it’s late at night, and as you come around a bend you see a truck up ahead in the snowy ditch. As you get closer, you see it is Fred Stumpkopf. Your family and the Stumpkopfs have been feuding for three generations. Surely you too would focus on the road ahead and boogie on home?
Not on your life. You would stop, grab your snow shovel, and help Fred get his truck back on the road. Between the two of you, there wouldn’t be ten words spoken, including his parting; “Thanks for the help” before you each continued on your way.
That’s because one of the cardinal sins in the Cypress Hills country is leaving someone stuck. It’s right up there with starving your livestock and having a portrait of Pierre Trudeau hanging in your living room.
In the Cypress Hills, the isolation has created a powerful need for mutual support, and that need has driven a dominant community value that demands personal responsibility for others.
Here in Edmonton, the complexity of urban life has eroded our desire to help our fellow man. Again, our environment shapes our values. There’s no “right” or “wrong’ value sets here; just the reality of living in communities with different environments.
Where does that leave me? Which values have I adopted? The Cypress Hills has shaped my values, and for that I’ll be forever grateful.
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