Tom Shakely
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  • January 7, 2015

    Code switching

    I first came across the term code switching from Brian Watson’s post on it last winter. I’ve thought about it a lot since then. Code switching “explains how many of us subtly, reflexively change how we express ourselves in different contexts.” This graphic of President Obama illustrates code switching really well, and NPR has an entire blog on code-switching.

    tumblr_inline_mxc5x5sqq21r825sv.gifI think of code switching as different expressions of the same personality, in the way that light can pass across a single, vast landscape to highlight and obscure at times different aspects of that landscape.

    It’s natural to code switch somewhat between the professional and familial, or in speaking with peers versus the elderly and children. I’m not particularly good at code switching beyond those basic contexts. A risk is when the code switch is inauthentic, where someone essentially puts on airs and tries to signal they’re fluent with an attitude or lifestyle that’s alien to them. Like politicians suddenly inserting “y’all” into Southern speeches.

    It’s interesting to think about code switching less as a reflexive or superficial change in mannerisms based on context, but instead along the lines of habitually learning more across a variety of fields, and being able to deploy that knowledge contextually and even cross-fertilize insights between experiences. I’m thinking of Robert Heinlein:

    “A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects.”

    The fascinating code switch to me isn’t the handshake v. chest bump, but the ability to acquire foundational knowledge about Heinlein’s sort of fields, and identify the contexts where you can express that part of yourself.

  • January 6, 2015

    Writing in public

    We live in a time of rising wealth and the things that greater wealth buys access to—like communications, health, and travel. Yet we get distracted by the noise and, ur nature being what it is, “nobody’s happy.”

    We don’t generally take advantage of our incredible ability to communicate and to write. Even being able to mass produce paper (rather than handcrafting it), in the course of human history, is still pretty new. Despite paper’s ubiquity, we don’t use it as much as we did in the past. At the same time, despite the internet’s pervasiveness, so much of what we write, share, and post seems to disappear into the ether even more quickly than what our parents or grandparents might’ve written with pen and paper. I’m writing in public simply because I think I have a responsibility to try to make use of the ubiquitous tools of our time and to try to set down in writing and for at least my own personal record, or family’s record, some of what I’m reading, or thinking, or experiencing.

    I think about how much I wish I could learn about the day to day lives of my own older family members or ancestors—imagining what they would have blogged about life in a war or on the farm or coming here in the first place. We generally don’t have any of that, and given the platforms we have today, it feels right that we should make an effort to write in public.

    I think “writing in public” is also worthwhile as a way to think aloud and share perspective and experience. There’s a lot that gets left unspoken in public. That’s as it should be. But I also think that before most substantive conversations happen in private, things first have to be thought through and brought out a bit and that even informal public writing can serve as a jumping off point for that. That’s also what I’m trying to do here.

    I like “Finck’s Coffee House in Munich and I also like Wilhelm Bendz’s “A Smoking Party.” Both relate to this idea of “public writing informing private thinking”. Here’s “A Smoking Party”:

    A Smoking Party (1828) - Wilhelm Bendz

    We need these sort of set-aside places and occasions that can be created for thinking, listening, and talking things through friends, neighbors, and strangers.

  • January 5, 2015

    Starting fresh

    Hi, I’m Tom Shakely. I connect mission-driven people and groups to the constituencies that will be stakeholders in their work. In practice, that’s reflected through my work in brand identity, communications, development, etc. I like to stay active with civic and nonprofit causes, and serve on several boards. I’m a recent arrival to New York from Philadelphia, and am a recreational traveler and runner.

    I believe politics is downstream from culture, despite being a fan of politics and the street fight “man in the arena” aspect of statecraft. Consequently I’m interested in T.S. Eliot’s “permanent things,” and how to express and harmonize those permanent things with the contemporary spirit of our time.

    I’m planning to write broadly about life and culture. At least for now, specific areas will include civics, social entrepreneurship, marketplaces, platforms, Catholicism, and place. Culture and social entrepreneurship because they reflect the sort of life we value, marketplaces and platforms because they shape and facilitate the former, and Catholicism and place because they provide context and root my life. It’s a certainty that other things I’m experiencing or thinking or working on will appear here from time to time.

    I think part of the art of great writing is the act of carrying on a conversation with yourself in a way that others can listen in. Fingers crossed that this space ends up being worth “listening in” on.

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