Thanks! I sometimes take on foolhardy assignments, but typing that whole post with thumbs wasn't one of them. That was copied and forwarded from my weblog, where I published the story on Friday: <a href="http://chriscorrigan.com/parkinglot/?p=2318">http://chriscorrigan.com/parkinglot/?p=2318</a><div>
<br></div><div>Thanks for the comments all,</div><div><br></div><div>Chris</div><div> <br><br><div class="gmail_quote">On Sun, Sep 13, 2009 at 2:12 PM, Harrison Owen <span dir="ltr"><<a href="mailto:hhowen@verizon.net">hhowen@verizon.net</a>></span> wrote:<br>
<blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="margin:0 0 0 .8ex;border-left:1px #ccc solid;padding-left:1ex;">Totally Awesome Chris -- even with "thumbs" -- and the rest of you will have<br>
to read to the end to find out about "thumbs." It will be the best read you<br>
have had in a long while. Thank You!<br>
<br>
ho<br>
<br>
Harrison Owen<br>
7808 River Falls Drive<br>
Potomac, Maryland 20854<br>
Phone 301-365-2093<br>
Skype hhowen<br>
Open Space Training <a href="http://www.openspaceworld.com" target="_blank">www.openspaceworld.com</a><br>
Open Space Institute <a href="http://www.openspaceworld.org" target="_blank">www.openspaceworld.org</a><br>
Personal website <a href="http://www.ho-image.com" target="_blank">www.ho-image.com</a><br>
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<div class="im"><br>
<br>
-----Original Message-----<br>
From: OSLIST [mailto:<a href="mailto:OSLIST@LISTSERV.BOISESTATE.EDU">OSLIST@LISTSERV.BOISESTATE.EDU</a>] On Behalf Of Chris<br>
Corrigan<br>
</div><div class="im">Sent: Sunday, September 13, 2009 1:17 PM<br>
To: <a href="mailto:OSLIST@LISTSERV.BOISESTATE.EDU">OSLIST@LISTSERV.BOISESTATE.EDU</a><br>
</div><div><div></div><div class="h5">Subject: Changing public meetings<br>
<br>
A story from some work I did last week:<br>
<br>
“My grandmother was the one that inspired me,” said my friend Liz<br>
over lunch at the Valley Inn in Bella Coola. “She said that the<br>
world was once all together, and then it came apart and one day it<br>
will be all together again. So I just try to bring things together.”<br>
<br>
Liz is a pretty remarkable woman. She worked for years in family<br>
reunification in Vancouver, bringing together First Nations kids with<br>
their birth families, reconnecting them to their culture and<br>
communities. She is at home now in Bella Coola on council, working<br>
for the Ministry as a social worker, but always about bringing people<br>
together. The reason I am here, for these two days of community<br>
conversations, is simply to be a part of designing and hosting<br>
community meetings that do that.<br>
<br>
The Nuxalk Nation reserves sit in this stunning valley, at the mouth<br>
of the Bella Coola River, where it meets the ocean at North Bentinck<br>
Arm, still nearly 150 kilometres inland from the open Pacific coast.<br>
At the Bella Coola town site is an old cannery, an icehouse and a<br>
wharf. There are a couple of hotels and restaurants, a Coop store,<br>
some repair shops and and RCMP station. Across the street from that<br>
is one of the Nuxalk communities, an old part of the reserve called<br>
“Downtown.” It mostly consists of old Department of Indian Affairs<br>
Housing, never designed for the wet climate of the Pacific coast, some<br>
trailers that house the band office and a couple of community<br>
buildings and a playground. Yards are full of mullein, plantain and<br>
blackberry bushes and the occasional carved headstone can be seen in a<br>
yard. A small creek winds through the reserve and joins the river on<br>
the north side of the community. At this time of year there are<br>
people out on the river, drift netting their food fish, gathering coho<br>
for canning and smoking. The Nuxalk fisheries personnel are trying to<br>
find some sockeye to take eggs from so they can stock some of the<br>
streams and lakes around the territory. Like everywhere the fish are<br>
dwindling. In the past, oolichans ran through here in the millions,<br>
but now only a handful return in the early spring and the once rich<br>
Nuxalk grease, one of the healthiest human produced foods in the<br>
world, is now gone.<br>
<br>
Up the river from here is the newer community of Four Mile, a<br>
subdivision of larger lots and larger houses. Kids roam around on<br>
their bikes and young families are out walking. The houses look like<br>
any rural subdivision but there are telltale signs you are still on<br>
Nuxalk lands. Poles dote the neighbourhood, carving studios take up<br>
garage space, and the occasional lawn has a fish boat parked on it.<br>
<br>
As the Bella Coola valley winds eastward, a few more communities dot<br>
the landscape – Hagensborg is the biggest, another 10 kilometres<br>
along highway 20. It is an old Norwegian settlement, and here the<br>
houses look bigger, more durable, and on large lots featuring<br>
manicured lawns and gardens. No one is outside, the kids get dropped<br>
off from the school bus and head right inside in contrast to the<br>
reserves, where the kids scatter in all directions after school. As<br>
highway 20 heads up towards Williams Lake, it climbs the “hill” a<br>
steep grade of narrow switch backs with no guard rail, that is said by<br>
some to be the most terrifying drive in Canada. If you don't fly out,<br>
or leave for Vancouver Island far to the south by ferry, this is the<br>
only way to go.<br>
<br>
This is the valley in which I have been working this week. A place of<br>
stunning natural beauty and deep social alienation. Liz and the<br>
Nuxalk elected chief, Spencer, were both fed up with the kinds of<br>
community meetings that have been going on for years, where people<br>
come and yell at one another, where anger becomes unbottled rage and<br>
questions are asked that have no answers that will ever satisfy. Both<br>
realized that how we talk to one another is important, so we agreed to<br>
try an experiment, and see what might happen if we ran meetings using<br>
participatory methodologies.<br>
<br>
The first day was a World Cafe, which I wrote about earlier, and<br>
yesterday we tried an Open Space meeting for a general community<br>
meeting. As is not uncommon, we started very late, once people had<br>
arrived, and a pot of moose stew appeared and everyone was settled, it<br>
was 5:00 – 90 minutes past the posted opening. We had about 20<br>
people sitting in a circle wondering what would happen, and I was<br>
wondering the same. Most folks were Band employees, present to give<br>
information and participate in conversations as best they could. A<br>
number had been reluctant to come because they had no idea what would<br>
happen, and feared community members being out of control. “How are<br>
you going to stop people from getting on their high horses?” one man<br>
had asked me. “I'm not,” I replied. “But the way we do this<br>
will lessen the chance of that happening.” He wasn't convinced. It<br>
was as if I had just described the concept of magic to him. I clearly<br>
knew my stuff, but that didn't make me any more in touch with reality.<br>
<br>
After a prayer and a quiet opening welcome, I stepped into the circle,<br>
with really nothing but an invitation to talk differently. We had not<br>
been able to do very much planning, and the notices for the meeting<br>
had only gone out to the community a couple of days before. Still,<br>
the invitation was to move from some visioning that the community had<br>
been doing for an Indian Affairs mandated planning process, to<br>
something more based in what the people wanted. I walked the circle,<br>
explained the process, reminded them that they had the power to set<br>
the agenda, and waited for what might happen.<br>
<br>
Always in Open Space meetings, there is this moment of being on the<br>
edge of the complete unknown. All of the preparation and time spent<br>
building the invitation and the theme and the question usually pay off<br>
in that moment. If we have done all of that right and produced a<br>
strong social field, the ideas flood into the centre. But there are<br>
times when the conditions don't tap the passion of the community, when<br>
people just remain confused about why they are there and what they are<br>
supposed to do. When they haven't seen through their cynicism far<br>
enough to even listen to the instructions. Those times only happen if<br>
there has been little preparation in the community or organization.<br>
Open Space is not a magic wand – it does not automatically generate<br>
participation. Invitation is the magic wand and Open Space is the<br>
place where the magic can happen. Yesterday, I feared that the wand<br>
had not been well used. That we would be staring at the floor between<br>
our feet for a while.<br>
<br>
But sometimes passion trumps preparation. It turns out that in<br>
Nuxalk, there are plenty of things to talk about. Life is hard for<br>
most people. There is 90% unemployment, the fish are disappearing,<br>
huge scale land rights issues loom over the heads of 1600 people, the<br>
language and culture is hanging by a thread, youth are drinking and<br>
drugging and getting pregnant. It's no wonder really that people<br>
shout at community meetings. It's the last place to rail against the<br>
morass of conditions that keeps these communities poor and out of the<br>
loop. The last place where people can feel their power, even if it<br>
comes at the expense of others.<br>
<br>
So last night, as I sat down, four people rose up and we were off. One<br>
Elder who had been a vocal critic of how bad the Council was at<br>
communicating with the people convened a session on how she wanted to<br>
see it done It felt at some level like there was some forgiveness<br>
buried in her question. Let's move on, she seemed to be saying.<br>
Let's figure out how to do this better.<br>
<br>
There were similar sentiments around jobs and youth and culture and<br>
language. Ten small groups were formed, and there was lots of<br>
visiting over the next hour as we did all the sessions in one time<br>
slot. Laughter broke out all around the room. More community<br>
members, who had been hanging around the outside of the hall, joined<br>
us. Liz picked up a conversation that she had started two years ago<br>
when I had been here before working with her. She introduced people<br>
to her idea of a community house – an intergenerational space where<br>
people could gather and be with one another.<br>
<br>
As we gathered in the circle at the end, we talked about what it felt<br>
like to be working like this. People had a good feeling towards one<br>
another. I asked when was the last time people had left a community<br>
meeting feeling good. There was hearty laughter. “Never!” said<br>
one Elder, her eyes wide with the absurdity of the question. “Feels<br>
good now though,” she said.<br>
<br>
We have a choice. We can meet in ways that get nothing done in the<br>
name of “information sharing” and “accountability” or we can<br>
meet in ways which allow our hearts to set the agenda, and our hands<br>
and feet to see it through to action. We didn't begin massive amounts<br>
of work last night, but we cracked open something – a possibility<br>
that it could be different. Hopefully we opened a jar out of which<br>
choice flowed. As Thomas King once said, you can't pretend not to<br>
have heard the story If you were there last night, you would have seen<br>
and felt something different. You can spin it to say some guy came up<br>
from the south and ran this kooky meeting and we talked in small<br>
groups. But no one who was there can deny that it DID feel good at<br>
the end. We felt like something was accomplished.<br>
<br>
What do we dare choose now?<br>
<br>
Liz reminded me that when we worked together two years ago, a young<br>
woman uttered a phrase that is stark in it's power and implication for<br>
communities like Nuxalk: Leadership is seeing the beauty in others.<br>
It's to draw together the world again, as Liz's grandmother says. To<br>
heal by making whole, which is not to say fixing everything, but<br>
rather to bring things closer together.<br>
<br>
As we left the hall last night, Spencer, the chief, waved at a man<br>
coming across the playground. He was a “trooper” one of the small<br>
number of chronic alcoholics in the community who have the hardest<br>
time of all. “What's happening Spence?” the trooper cried out.<br>
“Community meeting,” replied the young chief getting into his<br>
truck. “We were just talking.”<br>
<br>
“Oh, mmmhmm,” said the trooper. “That's good.”<br>
<br>
-----<br>
CHRIS CORRIGAN<br>
<a href="http://www.chriscorrigan.com" target="_blank">http://www.chriscorrigan.com</a><br>
<br>
Sent from an iPod, typed with thumbs...<br>
<br>
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</div></div></blockquote></div><br><br clear="all"><br>-- <br>CHRIS CORRIGAN<br>Facilitation - Training - Process Design<br>Open Space Technology<br><br>Weblog: <a href="http://www.chriscorrigan.com/parkinglot">http://www.chriscorrigan.com/parkinglot</a><br>
Site: <a href="http://www.chriscorrigan.com">http://www.chriscorrigan.com</a><br><br><br>
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