Reflections
This installment marks the beginning of my third year publishing these short essays each week. Over the last two years, I have written a number of words equal to those found in a typical novel.
It occurred to me recently that the title of my publication, Field Notes, had ceased to be as accurate as it was at the beginning. With this first essay of the new year, then, I have changed the title to Field Notes & Reflections.
My context for the original name came from my background in the qualitative research I did for my Ph.D. dissertation. When conducting cultural studies, the researcher is interested in capturing the experiences of human subjects from their perspective. Field notes are intended to present in raw form the reality of the lives of those being studied. The researcher's insights -- the links between data points -- might be included, but in a way that allows others to make their own connections if they choose.
At the start, this is all I was interested in: sharing anecdotes, making some observations, and connecting a few dots. As I wrote more, however, I found I was drawn to ascribing significance to what I observed and the insights that I had. I thought a name change was in order.
In the context of what I am thinking and writing, reflection can signify two things. The first, and perhaps most obvious, is the idea that I am considering or meditating on what I am observing. Reflecting suggests that I am exerting some mental effort to look beyond what is obvious to add depth of meaning. It takes the task of writing beyond mere description of a phenomenon. The essay reveals something that might have been hidden and overlooked.
The second sense of reflection is mirroring. As an author, I am holding a mirror up to myself, attempting to see myself as I really am, to better understand the world around me and my place in it.
In both senses, but particularly in the latter, the act of writing is more than simple reporting. It is an artistic endeavor, a craft. As a creator, I am revealing myself in the creation.
That is the way of all craft, I think. We might marvel at the knowledge and technical skill required to produce a work of art. What is most praise-worthy, however, are the unique qualities of perspective and the innovative approaches of the artist or craftsperson that are revealed in what he or she has made. These individual characteristics are the maker's signature.
I have argued that city management, the work I performed full-time for more than forty years, should be thought of as a craft rather than a profession. Although there are characteristics of the manner in which municipal administration is performed that are shared by practitioners, there are variations in how individuals approach the task. It is what we mean, at least in part, when we refer to management style.
Style, artistry, and craft are not qualities of all work. Assembly line mass production of the industrial age rendered these contributions of the individual worker unnecessary. This is one sense in which such work was characterized as dehumanizing. Since it lacked the unique stamp of a specific worker, much of the work, it was discovered, could easily be performed by machines.
Some have expressed concern that artificial intelligence will produce "original" works of art, including essays, that are convincingly human. These works are only original in the sense that they are generative in nature, not mere copies of existing works. That they appear unique and human-created is a testament to computer technologies that can deduce the essence of comparable works and churn out something roughly comparable. For all the awe this might inspire, these products remain derivative, devoid of any feature that reflects an individual human being. We should be no more impressed with such output than we are of the doggerel found in greeting cards when compared to the poems of John Keats or Emily Dickenson.
For a city manager, administration is both a process and a product. It is not only the case that each municipality served is unique due to factors such as history, demographics, economy, culture, and the like. Each is unique because those who took on roles in running the local governments sculpted the organization in a way that no other could.
Each of us who performs work that requires more than rote repetition of the same steps of an algorithm is involved in a craft. The result of our labors is something that reflects what the craftsperson brings to the challenge or opportunity before him or her. This is an element essential to those occupations, like city management, that involve the transmission of information among people. The wide variation among persons with whom the manager comes into contact requires, in many cases, something more than one-size-fits-all.
The approach of the manager in such circumstances means that there is something identifiable, either good or bad, that can be attributed uniquely to him or her. That something is a product of the administrator's education, experience, and history. No other manager shares in every meaningful way these same characteristics with another manager. The result, then, is a reflection of that individual. When one reads what is said of long-serving city managers upon their retirement or death, statements are almost always made that define the current state of the community or organization in terms of what they did and how they did it. They are recognized for their artistry and style.
The craft of the essayist and the craft of the municipal manager, then, involve reflecting who we are in what we produce. We should be able to see ourselves in what we do. We produce not only for our own enjoyment, of course, and that fact serves to establish some boundaries on what can be done. Within those boundaries, however, there is considerable freedom to bring ourselves to the work, to see ourselves embodied, in part, in what is done.
It is not only that others see us reflected in our work, but that we do as well. Reflection requires self-reflection, our analysis of what has been accomplished so that we can understand what our unique contributions and our individual perspectives have been. At the same time, we must be aware that only some of what we accomplish will survive us, that those who follow will discard or forget what we have done. The best of what we have created, however, will serve as the foundation upon which others can build.