During a recent meeting for one of my community projects I had a side conversation about the upcoming United Nations Climate Change Conference. As you might expect we talked about the environment and our little efforts to save it; turning off lights and such, and how the poor economy has added incentive. When I get together with friends and talk about saving money and energy it can often turn into preaching to the choir.

This time though my friend changed the conversation and asked, “How is your internal climate changing?”

How is my internal climate changing? I don’t even know what my internal climate is? I thought about these things for several days after our talk. I had no quick answer to this one.

Not having a quick answer was in fact a clue to how my internal climate had been changing.

You see, I have always been fairly – ok very – opinionated. In the past I have been quick to provide a response to any number of topics based on my pre-disposed opinion.

Changing that behavior hasn’t been easy, but it appears to be happening. The current structure of our society doesn’t help because we reward ourselves for quick answers and cemented opinions.

For example; prior to the last election, at one of the city council forums, this question was raised:

“Do you think global warming is a man made phenomenon?”

On the surface this seems like a totally valid question; one that might even have a clear yes or no answer. Give a “yes” or a “no” and you are guaranteed to put yourself on one side or the other of the global warming debate. The reward is that you are now in the exclusive group of people willing to answer that question the same way as yourself. Just maybe that group will clinch the votes you need to be elected.

Unfortunately, through the process of grouping ourselves – creating us’s and them’s – we build barriers to actually accomplishing anything. Instead of finding ways to make the world better for all we become more concerned with one-upping the other team.

That makes this reward hardly a reward at all.

Asking what our internal climate is or how it is changing isn’t so much about coming up with a good metaphorical retort; it is about forcing the mind to discover what is in the heart.

Over the past several days I’ve discovered that my heart desires me to move beyond asking questions that divide. While I may maintain my opinions about climate change it is my internal climate change that is telling me I want to discover the questions that lead to a stronger union between myself and others.

So now it’s your turn. As the world’s leaders meet to try and take action on global climate change, I ask you, “What is your internal climate change?”

{Listen to Audio Here}

I originally wrote this for my monthly newspaper editorial but felt that the idea is one that doesn’t just have to happen at the community level, it definitely could work within an organization as well. I mean “Hey! An organization is just a community on a smaller scale, right?”

A Harvest of Ideas

The Thanksgiving holiday, the turn in the weather and the final harvest of my vegetable garden remind me of Fall in my hometown.

I was raised in the Michigan farmland where I started picking zucchini around the age of 9. Most of my young life was spent working on farms; picking and packaging all sorts of fruits and vegetables. My community, like so many farm communities around the country, celebrated our harvests with a festival.

These festivals are about much more than just the end of the laborious work of the harvest. The festivals are a celebration of community and a time to tell the tales of the years work. They are a celebration of the bounty itself and a time to invite other people into our community to share in the fruits of our labors.

Of course in our case this wasn’t just a figure of speech, one of our primary crops was peaches and I clearly remember how delicious they were to eat fresh from the tree.

Upper Arlington was once farmland like my hometown but is now a suburban community. Instead of farmers we are primarily laborers, office staff, intellectuals and thought leaders. The fruits that we produce today are often related more towards creative endeavours, scholarship or financial pursuits rather than food stuffs.

Whereas harvest festivals are about bringing closure to the season, sharing the fruits of the labor and making space for community togetherness; the festivals that we host in Upper Arlington are often singularly about bringing community together. This is because a good idea doesn’t require a particular season to blossom so we don’t have a way of anchoring our modern day harvest to a particular time on the calendar.

Of course I am in favor of all of this community togetherness; it is a component of what makes UA so wonderful. But I’m wondering if we aren’t missing out on an opportunity here. Is there some way to expand our celebration, our own sort of harvest festival?

Imagine if we were to find a way to celebrate a harvest of creativity and ideas. Like the way a farmers’ harvest festival is full of baked goods and produce; what if our harvest festival of ideas presented a true sharing of the social knowledge hidden away within our community.

Being Midwesterners we don’t like to make a big deal about our accomplishments; we often fear that by tooting our own horn we’ll be playing a very sour note. But in the context of sharing, of bringing our fruits to the table I think we can find both comfort and a great deal of value.

Right now, with economic difficulties facing us all we could use a little added comfort and value.

This thought brings to mind a favorite story of mine about stone soup. There are many versions of this story, here’s mine.

Once upon a time there was a small farming village that had suffered a poor harvest. People were going hungry. Just as things got as bad as they had ever been, an old woman passed through begging for food. She was turned down by everyone – they all said there was none to share.

Instead of moving on the old woman asked to borrow a pot of water that she might boil for soup. Needless to say the villagers were curious how she could make soup when she had no food with her.

They watch her closely as she boiled the water and dropped one large stone in. Curious, they asked what she was doing. She explained, “I’m making stone soup. It’ll be good enough for me to eat but I wouldn’t want to share it with you without some seasoning. Without that you wouldn’t like it.”

Soon enough one villager offered up a little bit of seasoning – just out of curiosity of course. Then, another villager offered a couple of carrots and yet another some potatoes. This goes on and on, each villager bringing a small offering.

By the end all of the villagers had eaten, and they celebrated the old woman and her wisdom. The villagers learned that sharing their individual gifts, no matter how small, made it possible to not just feed the wise old woman but also the whole village.

Celebrating and sharing the gifts of a harvest, whether it was an abundant year or not, makes us all that much fuller.

So what gifts have you harvested this year that you could share with the community? If we all share our little bit, even in such a lean time, just imagine how much fuller we could make our lives right here in UA.

As promised, here is my first article for This Week UA.

Sidewalks, bike lanes can help create neighborhoods

A couple of years ago I had the honor of hearing Traci Parks speak about her life and work at a Tri-Village Rotary meeting. Traci Parks is a Columbus photographer with a special story: she is legally blind. She spoke about the challenges that disabled individuals face when trying to navigate neighborhoods and other public spaces.

Traci Parks photographs deficiencies in sidewalks and other pedestrian infrastructure. Through her photography she documents the types of deficiencies that many able-bodied individuals find to be an inconvenience. For the disabled however, these deficiencies are much more than an inconvenience. The use of pictures as a way of showing the general public what she experiences — but cannot clearly see — is powerful.

Actually, it was powerful enough that I never looked at sidewalks the same way again. After the birth of our daughter I had even more reason to consider these issues as more than a mere inconvenience. How we choose to develop pedestrian infrastructure says a lot about our community priorities.

Upper Arlington currently has sidewalks along approximately 20 percent of its roadway. There are some streets where the shoulder has been lined to suggest a safe zone for pedestrians but not to mandate it. Bike lanes have been rejected by residents and, except for the lighted intersections, crosswalks are often barely visible and rarely respected by drivers. For many people they are just two faded white lines.

Some residents find this acceptable; they don’t walk much anyhow, don’t bicycle, don’t have kids or are able-bodied enough that the lack of infrastructure doesn’t pose a problem. For them, crossing someone’s yard or using the roadway is a minor enough risk to take.

The arguments from residents against sidewalks and the like tend to fall into the categories of either cost or aesthetics.

There certainly is a large cost associated with installing these amenities; but then, what is the cost of not having this infrastructure? And isn’t there beauty in neighborhoods full of people walking, talking and biking?

Many of my peers have questioned my move to Upper Arlington. While they think it is a nice suburb (and it is) they don’t see it as being alive the way other local communities are. There’s not the kind of vibrant street life you see in Grandview, Worthington, Westerville or old Dublin; not to mention places like Clintonville or the Short North.

Healthy, vibrant communities are ones where residents have a maximum opportunity for interaction. People out walking, riding bikes, using public spaces for all sorts of activities — these are communities that encourage neighbors to engage each other and to meet the needs of individuals from within. Local businesses and organizations thrive around high pedestrian activity because, when people leave their car at home, they rely on them instead of the megamall, etc.

Fred Rogers, famous for his own Neighborhood, wrote, “There’s a world of difference between insisting on someone’s doing something and establishing an atmosphere in which that person can grow into wanting to do it.” Providing people with an atmosphere and infrastructure that encourages greater community engagement invites just that type of growth.

Walkable communities, as they’re often referred to, provide a focus on the implementation of complete streets as a way of supporting multiple transportation options. They bring walking, cycling and public transportation up to the same level of importance as the personal automobile.

As society re-embraces the wisdom of cities, those communities that reject this pedestrian orientation are finding it harder and harder to attract new residents and maintain their community identity. The generations that built our suburbs created the right community infrastructure for the time, but that time is passing.

To be fair, I am not without personal motivations here. I bought a home in Upper Arlington and want to make sure it remains a good investment. Now, several years on, Upper Arlington is losing population and its median age is rising. Even our excellent schools and libraries have taken some lumps.

If Upper Arlington is to remain a premier community, I believe it must offer superior amenities. The financial restrictions on making this happen are real but there is an opportunity to be innovative while remaining fiscally responsible. Holding neighborhood meetings, using grants, taking advantage of lower construction costs, and re-striping streets that can accommodate it are all examples of innovative and responsible ideas at work.

I put forward the challenge to residents and city leaders alike to find ways to enhance the pedestrian experience. My family and I look forward to sharing some conversation and space on the sidewalk, path and bike lane with you soon.