We're in the midst of strategic planning here at Fanning, and one aspect of this has been articulating our vision--how should we clearly and succinctly describe our hopes for the impact of our work with communities? For right now, we've come up with a three part statement reflecting our highest aspirations for communities: Skilled Leaders. Engaged People. Prosperous Economies.

I've been thinking about what it means to be engaged.  This is a pretty salient matter right now, as presidential campaigns involve a frenzy of civic-mindedness, which is certainly one kind of engagement. But, in the words of the sage political analyst Peggy Lee, "Is That All There Is?"  What do we really mean when we say that we want to promote "engagement"?

At its most fundamental, to me engagement conveys activity of some sort--a curiousity about and interest in matters larger than oneself, a commitment to becoming involved, and follow through.  I like the definition used by Project Pericles, a non-profit devoted to promoting education for responsible citizenship:

"Voting is one expression of civic involvement, but far from the only one. Periclean Programs strive to give students the intellectual and experiential foundations for all aspects of responsible citizenship. These include taking an interest in public affairs, engaging in civil discourse, understanding and actively participating in democratic political processes, being able to analyze news and information, cultivating and effectively advocating opinions on matters of public policy, tolerating diverse opinions, supporting free speech, being involved in community service that addresses public problems, and, above all, having the confidence that through democratic processes individuals can 'make a difference.'"

Under this definition, a community of engaged people is one in which its members/residents are informed, provide input on community matters, encourage others to participate and in turn reflect upon and consider their contributions, and invest something of themselves into influencing, developing, and implementing policies that go beyond self-interest to promote the common good.

Ok, we're getting somewhere.  But how does this view comport with the dictionary definition of engagement?  Here's what  Merriam-Webster's Online Dictionary says about what it means to be engaged:

Engaged

1 a: to pledge oneself : promise b: guarantee 

2 a: to begin and carry on an enterprise or activity b: to take part : participate c: to give attention to something : deal 

3: to enter into conflict or battle

4: to come together and interlock (as of machinery parts) : be or become in gear

 On a recent trip to Slovenia, I found a productive setting for reflections about what we at Fanning Institute might mean when we talk about a vibrant community. 

 Observations

Slovenia is part of the former Yugoslavia which in turn is one of several Slavic nations which, over many thousands of years, have been subjugated by various world powers from the Roman Empire to the Hapsburgs to the Venetians to the Nazis to the Americans.  Slovenia became an independent nation in 1991 and their pride in this accomplishment was evident everywhere we went.  Here are some examples of the times I felt I was in a vibrant community:

• In the capital of Ljubljana, every Saturday, an open air market draws people from all around to buy just about everything.  Part of this is an artists market that features work by crafts people in the area.  Along the River Ljubjanica, sidewalk cafes are full of people of all ages drinking coffee, listening to music, and enjoying the ambiance.  Everyone is chattering away, shopping, walking, taking the air.  Even strangers such as we felt a part of this vibrant community. Tourists like us were obvious and a welcome part of the economy.
  

• Slovenia is the president of the European Union and despite inflation bred by the transition to the Euro, everywhere we went we saw banners that celebrated this important role. At the city hall of Ljubljana, there is a scale model of the Ljubljana of the future and examples of public art for all to see.  The back door of the cathedral is a scale model of the history of Slovenia from Roman times to the present.  There is a local museum dedicated to the battle of Kobarid, with bloody reminders of the devastation wrought by fighting during World War I.

• In the port town of Piran, at the town square, school children and musicians presented an English-language mass for peace.  We sat outside, drinking coffee and wine, listening to speeches by local leaders and lovely music.  The square was full of local people and tourists, chattering away and then silent as the music played. Vibrancy was palpable and a joy.

• As a tourist, I mostly encountered waiters, shop-keepers, taxi drivers, hoteliers, and others in the hospitality industry, all of whom evidenced poise and pride in their work and their community.  Fleeting observations of other, less glamorous, workers  in service to community included the young men charged with pulling up the ancient grout that held together cobblestones on the streets, construction workers building a new pipeline, grocery store employees and the people who worked on public transportation.  Piran and Isola, neighboring communities, are extremely wealthy due to their core businesses of refining salt from seawater and tourism.  Here again, I was struck by the industriousness and attention to detail.

Also interesting were some less-than-pc factors that contributed to a sense of community:

• Slovenia is 96% Catholic and very homogeneous ethnically:  the only people of color we saw were other tourists.  They also have a history of discrimination against Roms (known as gypsies).  Our guide and others spoke disparagingly of the Catholic hegemony and the deterioration of the separation of church and state that existed under Tito’s socialist regime.  The mix of shared ethnicity and political disaffection seemed to contribute to the bonds of community in the places we visited.

• Slovenia has never been a world power: however it frequently has been the battlefield where world powers vie for supremacy.  The town of Kobarid was the scene of a massive battle in World War 1 that inspired Hemingway to write A Farewell To Arms.  Surrounding the town are memorials to the Slavs, the Russian prisoners of war, Austro-Hungarian casualties and countless civilians who succumbed during that cold November of 1917.  Kobarid has a museum dedicated to the lessons from that struggle, which some Slovenians say continued through independence in 1991.  I came away believing that resistance to subjugation and the losses of war are equally powerful contributors to a sense of community.

As I read what I have written, I realize I am providing a rose-colored vacationer’s view of a community about which I really know little that’s substantive.  In some ways that’s also how we consultants experience our client communities:  we bring outsider observations that attempt to interpret and reframe the experience of being an insider.  Thus, these observations are constrained by the lens of the observer:  a happy vacationer surely sees things differently than a refugee seeking asylum or an oldtimer faced with gentrification of the place she loves.  Perspective by definition is outside of experience and perspective recounted in words is even more suspect.  Maintaining that bright line between observer and observed is at once the hallmark of excellent consulting and the sad boundary that separates consultants from the authentic experiences of the communities we serve. 

Reflections

Thinking about these observations, it seems to me that vibrant communities have the following characteristics:

• Shared spaces where people gather for social, commercial and spiritual purposes.

•   A sense – and sometimes material proof -- that the benefits of being a member of the community exceed the benefits of being outside the community.

• Green space, cultural assets, and other sources of pride that are shared by members of the community at no extra charge

• People know each other by name.

• People share a sense of identity as a community.

• People welcome outsiders as visitors but not as members of the community.  Barriers to entry and egress mean it takes time to belong and that when one leaves, there is a trace in memory.

• People enjoy a generalized sense of well being rooted in multidimensional assets (financial, family, natural beauty, history, independence, tradition, faith, etc.).

• Many types of work are valued, regardless of the nature of the job.
  

• The role of structural leader is ambiguous:  a leader is a source of focus and energy and at the same time the subject of criticism and occasional ridicule, attitudes which themselves reinforce the sense of belonging to the community.

As I look at the list of characteristics above, it strikes me that a community of consultants exhibits these characteristics as well and that, in turn, affirms that participation in community is not always a warm and fuzzy experience.  This inspires me to start future observations from a standpoint of striving together (the origin of the modern word competition).  By starting the conversation with a hearty acknowledgement of individual self interest, instead of holding up unrealistic ideals of amity and cohesion.  In a context of striving, holding up these ideals may well misdirect attention away from the true struggles at hand.    The vision of a vibrant community is a chimera, a snapshot, an ephemeral moment of stability in a dynamic process that is driven by human energy, leaderly goals, and the ever-present struggle to thrive.