Guilt

Tags

Apple, China, news, NPR, This American Life

I’m a big NPR fan. All of the radios in my house and car are tuned to it. I became a regular listener just after September 11 and have relied on it ever since as my main source of news and entertainment. There are a number of shows that I listen to regularly – some of my favorites are This American Life, On Being, Wait Wait … Don’t Tell Me!, and On Point.

Since I am rarely able to tune in for a full hour, I subscribe to most of these shows as podcasts so that I can listen to them on my own schedule. Tonight I caught up on a few episodes of “This American Life” while driving to and from a meeting in Framingham. I’m more than a little behind on the show. Today I finished the annual holiday Poultry Slam episode in which they told the tale of a vicious wild turkey whose reign of terror over a small suburb ended in a shower of bullets from the local police force. I decided to skip the next episode in my queue, a collection of modern Christmas tales that seemed not at all appropriate for a May evening drive. Which is how I ended up listening to “Mr. Daisey Goes to the Apple Factory.”

In the January 2012 episode, actor Mike Daisey tells the story of his trip to Shenzhen, China where millions of Chinese workers work in near slavery conditions to assemble the various tech products, clothing, and toys that we Americans bring home by the cartload. He tells the story of the unconventional strategies that he used to get inside the Foxconn factory that assembles iPhones, Macbooks, and other assorted Apple products. He reveals his firsthand account of a country where human labor is so cheap that even our most high-tech gadgets are assembled by hand – millions of hands crippled by performing the same task on an assembly line for hours on end. He describes a massive building with security guards at the exits and nets strung up on the sides of the building in response to a recent surge in employee suicides. He tells us of the dorms where employees sleep – twelve foot square rooms with fourteen beds stacked floor to ceiling – each bunk space so narrow that one can only slide in “coffin-style.”

I was listening to the story as a podcast, which I had downloaded from iTunes and wirelessly synced to my iPod Touch – the second iPod Touch that I have purchased since the story aired. I have never felt so overwhelmed with guilt. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I raced down the Mass Pike, imagining the children’s fingers that had assembled the gadget that I have proclaimed, on numerous occasions, essential to my way of life.

I felt near panic as I listened. Each tale he wove was more sickening than the last. I thought of all the MacBooks, iPads, and iPods that I have purchased in my life and realized that I have been complicit in countless crimes against humanity. I couldn’t even begin to comprehend the true cost of the sleek, sexy glass and aluminum gadget that I had so quickly replaced after carelessly dropping the last one. But what am I to do? How can I change these unspeakable working conditions when the vast majority of the products I use are made in China? I make an effort to shop locally whenever possible, but sometimes there isn’t much choice – there is a reason that Apple doesn’t have factories in Boston.

I was entertaining fantasies of a luddite existence on an organic off-the-grid farm when a memory was dislodged in the back of my brain. I thought I remembered some sort of false reporting scandal involving Apple products from a Chinese manufacturing plant. Yes. There had definitely been some sort of hoax in recent months. Could this be it? Please, God, I silently pleaded as I pressed my foot more firmly against the gas pedal, let this be it.

The iPod dinged to announce an incoming email as I pulled into my driveway and entered the range of my wifi signal. I walked through the back door, called a greeting to Buck, and sank immediately to the couch, pulling my MacBook onto my lap. I Googled the words “this american life apple factory china” and breathed a heavy sigh of relief when the first result was a retraction on the show’s web site. I actually felt the chemical reaction as my entire body unclenched – it felt sort of like the metallic taste of adrenaline in the back of my throat, except somehow opposite. The report was a hoax. There is no Chinese blood on my hands.

It took mere seconds for me to realize that my relief was only partially warranted. Mike Daisey exaggerated many of the details in his story, and This American Life should not have run it without thorough fact checking. But the inhumane working conditions that Daisey described have been verified by the New York Times, the BBC, CNN, and the Guardian. I’ve seen the photos of the employee dorms and the suicide nets. It’s real, and I’m still a part of it.

Ick.

Looking Back

Tags

MMEA, music, news, teaching, writing

Today I wrote a column that will run in the June issue of Mass Music News. Yes, that’s right – I wrote a “news” column that will run two months from now. If that’s not creative writing, I don’t know what is.

—

The summer months are upon us! I’m sure I’m not alone when I tell you that last March’s unseasonably warm spell jump-started my summer musings. My thoughts turned to travel, beach days, and barbecues, but also to next fall’s musical, ensemble auditions, and new repertoire. This is the life of a teacher – we are always planning ahead.

It is important, though, to reflect as much as we plan – like Janus, the Roman two-faced god of transitions, a good teacher looks forward and back simultaneously. As we wind down for summer, we are at an opportune moment to do exactly that.

Last fall, in my first chairperson’s letter for Mass Music News, I told you of the extreme measures that I had taken to rejuvenate after a tough school year. For the first time in my life I took a true summer vacation – I wrote no curriculum, arranged no songs, and answered no emails.  It was my attempt to press the reset button, and it served as a reminder that before I can inspire young minds, I need to inspire my own. Reciting (and living by) this mantra over the following school year gave me the necessary energy to embark on new projects and adventures with my students.

It has been a year of exciting developments in the Northeastern District. We adopted an online scoring system that streamlined our audition procedures and allowed our dedicated volunteers to work more efficiently. At our board meetings we began a discussion of how we can go beyond the festivals to better serve our membership. We were excited to co-sponsor the SGMM General Music Festival last spring and are discussing professional development opportunities for next year.

Now we are turning our attention to our festival procedures. We are gathering data on what is working well and what needs attention. One of my projects this summer will be to edit our choral audition mp3s. I will also be collecting recommendations for new additions to our adjudicator list for the senior and junior festivals. Please send me your suggestions!

As you reflect on your year and look ahead to the next one, I hope you will take a few minutes to give me some feedback. I’d like to hear your thoughts on the work that we are doing in the Northeastern District – what are our areas for growth? Please take our online survey at http://www.surveymonkey.com/s/FN66P6K.

Happy summer!

Amanda Roeder

Not-So-Personal Finance

Tags

foreclosure, money, news, OWS, real estate

Today I learned that an acquaintance is in the midst of foreclosure proceedings. This information became painfully public when a notice was printed in the local paper.

I was horrified to hear that this very embarrassing personal experience had been revealed in such a public fashion. I didn’t know until today that this is common practice.

I tend to squirm uncomfortably when the grim statistics of mortgage default are trotted out in news reports. Images of displaced, desperate, and damaged families flash across my brain, but I prefer not to think too vividly about it.

Because this acquaintance lives in a small community where secrets don’t last long, her private affairs are now very public knowledge. In a matter of minutes I learned all the details of the family’s financial picture: the unexpected windfall that introduced them to The Good Life, the purchase of their expensive home, the mortgage payment plan that somehow went awry, their employment histories, their unpaid bills, their assets and liabilities, and their children’s education.

“I just can’t believe how much money they owe,” gasped the person who shared the story with me. “I mean, sure I have credit card debt, but it’s peanuts compared to this!”

She was not being unkind. It’s human nature to compare our experiences. We like to know how we measure up. Even as I sat in stunned silence I was running a mental tally: this month’s credit card bill, the payoff date on my auto loan, the balance of my mutual fund, the market value of my condo, the $7 Expedia fee that I have fought so vigorously …  what I was trying to do was to assure myself that it won’t happen to me.

I remember my first venture into the real estate market nine years ago. I remember how my head reeled at the numbers being discussed. I had never written a check so large, and still the remaining balance on the debt far surpassed anything I had ever imagined.

“It’s not real money,” my co-borrower assured me. I never could tell if he was joking or not. Several years later I would give up every last real dime I had in order to take his name off the mortgage. A few years after that, he would become one of the more visible members of the Occupy Wall Street movement, so I guess he’s come around to the idea that it was, in fact, real money.

As I contemplated the misfortune of this local family, I wondered what had precipitated this sad turn of events. Was there an unexpected expense – a medical bill, perhaps – that had derailed the family budget? Was it a desire to ensure that their children would want for nothing, or a competitive need to keep up with the neighbors? Was it a lack of market knowledge, a lack of discipline, a lack of planning?

Was it any of my business?

I realize, of course, that a foreclosure is not a private matter. It is not just the displaced family but an entire community that takes a financial hit. Still, I couldn’t help but cringe to hear the news.

Never have I wished so fervently for the ability to unlearn something.

In Praise of Beth

Tags

friends, leadership, music, news, sadness, teaching

Readers, I do not relish the writing of today’s post, for it is on a topic that saddens me deeply. I am writing in response to a choice that was made public last night at a televised meeting of the school committee. It is a choice that concerns the work of Beth Delforge, Fine Arts Curriculum Director for the Marblehead Public Schools. Her position is one of several being cut – whether it will be reduced to one day a week or eliminated entirely remains to be determined – in order to fund three new administrative positions for the school system.

I cannot overstate Beth’s impact on my adult life. She has been a steadfast mentor and friend to me.  I will spend the rest of this school year enjoying every moment with my mentor and attempting to adjust to the notion of a school without Beth – which already sounds to me like an alien landscape. I have lots of questions about how a leaderless department can maintain the quality that has brought such acclaim to our community. But those are questions to be explored through the appropriate channels, and this blog is not such a channel.

It would be a mistake, however, to fail to recognize the impact that this woman has had on our community and on my life in particular. The halls of our music department are lined with framed photo collages that Beth has lovingly assembled, year after year, documenting the great work of our students. Before she begins the next chapter of her professional life, it is important that we document her great work in our town.

Beth hired me in the spring of my senior year of college. It was her first year as Fine Arts Curriculum Director, and with the principal’s support she sought to expand the high school music program. Together, over the next ten years, we would develop seven new music classes, charter a chapter of the Tri-M honor society, and increase enrollment in choral ensembles by 400%. Meanwhile, Beth was also busy creating unique district-wide professional development opportunities, promoting and supporting a stunning visual arts department, and advocating tirelessly – for a decade – for a theater arts teacher, who has finally joined our department.

I’ve spoken on numerous occasions of my tremendous good fortune to land in a school system that has valued the arts enough to fund an administrative position. With Beth’s advocacy – and here I must also acknowledge the tremendous contributions of our Fine Arts secretary Cindy Thompson – I’ve had the luxury of focusing solely on my teaching. I am learning that this singular attention to professional mission is a rarity in public education these days. I have been fortunate indeed.

For ten years Beth Delforge has pushed me to reach for what others might consider impossible. She has encouraged me to dream big, wild dreams of what our choral program could be, and then she has helped me outline the steps towards my goals. She showed me how to seek out grants that would support the expansion of our a cappella program, numerous school-wide enrichment opportunities, and the creation of an in-house recording studio for our music department. Although she is not one to seek the limelight, there should be no misunderstanding: every one of our ambitious and exciting endeavors has had her fingerprints all over it.

Beth has been far more than a cheerleader to me. She has been a trusted source of wisdom and advice. Whether grappling with the wording of an email, a puzzling piece of curriculum, or classroom management, my first instinct has always been to walk across the hall to her office. When I make mistakes, she lets me know in no uncertain terms – but she has always done so in a way that makes me feel like a valued and trusted professional. I have made every effort to model that approach in my interactions with my students, for I have also experienced a more punitive management style, and I firmly know which one I prefer.

Beth is the embodiment of passionate teaching and lifelong learning. Her daily presence has shaped the teacher and the learner that I am today.  I suppose there comes a time in every mentoring relationship when the student must fly solo, and Beth has certainly given me the support and the freedom to learn how.

But I don’t like it one bit.

Victory! (I Think)

Tags

creative efforts, news, PIPA, politics, SOPA

Hello, readers. Would you like an update on my painkiller regimen or a detailed account of the things that are placed into and removed from my mouth?

No? Because that’s pretty much all I’ve been thinking about today. But with the awareness that you may not be as fascinated with my gums as I am, I thought I’d go back and revisit a topic from a few days ago which deserves further exploration.

A few of you noticed that my blog was blacked out for twelve hours on Wednesday in protest of the ill-conceived Stop Online Piracy Act (SOPA) and Protect IP Act (PIPA.) I joined the protest, along with far more popular sites (Wikipedia being one of them) in order to illustrate the potentially devastating impact of legislation which would go way too far in the fight against copyright infringement. To learn more about why I oppose SOPA and PIPA, click on the “Stop Censorship” banner that is still currently displayed on my blog.

I found it really interesting, by the way, that on the day I attempted to contact Massachusetts senators Kerry and Brown about this issue, the senate.gov contact page was not functioning due to technical difficulties. Apparently others were more successful than I at getting through.  If you’ve been following this issue, you are probably already aware that SOPA and PIPA are currently dead in the water thanks to Wednesday’s protest and subsequent outcry from concerned Americans. I’m relieved and even a little bit encouraged to see that united citizens really can have an impact on our government. I was really starting to wonder.

Now here’s where the SOPA/PIPA thing gets a little sticky for me: I support the protection of intellectual property, and it worries me that fewer and fewer people seem to agree.

I guess you could call me a little old-fashioned. I buy albums. With money. When possible, I buy them directly from the artist, but if that’s not possible, I shop online. Once in a while I may even set foot in a record store.

I’ll admit that I don’t purchase outright every album that interests me. Sometimes I like an artist, but not enough to warrant the cost of an album. That’s when I plug my iPad into my stereo and crank up the Pandora app, knowing that I can listen to any song I want, for free – and discover lots of other great music, to boot.

There seems to be a notion out there – particularly among those young enough to have no recollection of a time before the internet – that we are entitled free access to media content. I’m amazed by how many of my students – even those who envision themselves working in the entertainment industry – believe that unfettered access to artistic works is their birthright.

I don’t particularly enjoy paying for my media content, either. I’ve gone TV-free for the last three years because I’d rather not send my hard-earned money to Comcast. I rarely buy books, periodicals, or movies anymore because I know I can get them for free. I go to the library, which is three blocks away and houses a staggering collection that is mine for the taking. Sure, they might not have every item I seek, but they’re perfectly happy to go get it for me, and they even call me when they’ve located it. Sure, I can’t keep the items that I borrow, but how often do we really need to keep these things anyway? My house is less cluttered because of my library patronage. Sure, sometimes I have to wait a few weeks or months until the hot new titles are available, but somehow I survive. I’ve even come to the surprising conclusion that maybe I don’t need instant gratification.

So I am delighted that SOPA and PIPA have failed, but I can’t shake the feeling that their defeat was at the hands of those who want to download music without paying for it. I hope I’m wrong.

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A Whole Retort

Tags

news, resignation, snark, whole foods

Dear Disgruntled Former Whole Foods Employee,

I read with great interest the open letter of resignation that has prompted your fifteen minutes of internet fame. I sympathize with your position. It’s demoralizing to find that your place of employment fails to live up to its attractive façade.

I occasionally shop at Whole Foods myself. It isn’t my primary source for groceries – it’s not the most convenient store for me to get to, and some of its products are rather pricey for my needs. But it is one of few places that offer dairy and produce grown in Massachusetts when the farmers markets aren’t in season, and that’s important to me. The people who ring up my order appear, for the most part, friendly and relaxed. They must be laboring pretty intensely to suppress their seething rage. Or perhaps they’re just keeping it under control by liberal consumption of organic herbal tea and Bach’s Flower Essences.

I knew I was going to like you when you opened with my favorite quote from British statesman and orator Edmund Burke. It is true that when good men do nothing, evil will prevail. So I can only assume that you did everything you could during your five or six years of employment to counteract the systemic flaws in the Whole Foods machine. Since these matters are of great importance to you, you must have done plenty of market research to find out how Whole Foods can better align itself with the other grocery chains who are recycling, conserving energy, and buying locally-produced foods. I’m sorry that your findings fell on deaf ears.

I notice that values are important to you, and that you hold in disdain those who fail to act in accordance with their purported principles. You’ve probably given a lot of thought to your own values with regards to your employment and your community.  I am curious to know which of your values led you to the conclusion that publicly castigating your colleagues was a good idea. Was it “caring about your community?”  Or perhaps it was “supporting team member happiness and excellence.” I’m sure you had a good reason to say the things you said. I imagine you feel much better now that you’ve said them.

Finally, I wonder what you are doing with your time these days. I hope you have found a new place of employment that is in harmony with your values, your sleep schedule, and your access to transportation. I hope you are now gainfully employed at a company that eschews all that needless advertising, powers all of its stores with solar panels, and gives out iPods (locally-sourced, of course) as holiday gifts. I assume that for passionate, principled people like yourself, jobs like this are not too difficult to come by these days.

Yours in solidarity,

Amanda

P.S. If I may, I’d like to offer just one piece of constructive criticism on your missive:  I recommend that when you write a scathing open letter to your next former employer you proofread. It won’t take much of your time; there are actually some Windows 95-era tools that will do it for you.