The Painted Ponies Go Up and Down

I prefer to set annual goals on the occasion of the Jewish New Year rather than on January 1, because it coincides with the academic year and the cycle of productivity that academia imposes. Last year, before Rosh Hashanah, I set three goals for myself: 

  • Write 3 dissertation chapters.
  • Get an article out for review.
  • Visit a new place. Preferably a tropical island.

Well, I came close. I only submitted one chapter to my committee, though two more are almost finished. I wrote an article, but am still working on revisions and have not yet sent it to a journal. I slayed the final goal, however, by visiting two new places this year--Nashville and Croatia--and even if neither were a tropical island, Croatia was pretty darn close. 

When I set these goals, they felt very manageable--I was not trying to be too ambitious. And yet this year has taught me that I'm not very good at estimating what I can accomplish in a set time. Three weeks ago, I vowed to myself that I would finish the chapter (now chapters, plural) that I have been working on by tomorrow, the last day of September. I worked so hard, and so badly wanted to achieve this goal, but I did not even come close. It was not for lack of effort. This chapter has required more research and methodological rigor than I could have ever imagined, and it was time consuming work. I think it has all been worth it, but I need at least another week, or maybe even two, to finish writing, editing, and polishing the chapters before they're ready for my advisor to read. I set an overambitious goal, and I should not be disappointed that I failed to meet it--it still motivated me to do my best work. And that, after all, is the real goal of setting goals. 

From All Sides

Yesterday I put together a new table of data to calculate what percentage of the YM-YWHA of Washington Heights & Inwood's income in the 1970s came from the government grants they received to provide social services to older adults. I wanted to know how dependent the Y was on this stream of funding, as compared to its annual allocation from the Federation of Jewish Philanthropies of New York (FJP) or to its revenue from membership dues and special activities fees. I was surprised to find that government grants made up an average of 57% percent of the Y's non-Federation income (Total Other Income, or TOI) between 1973-79. 

Government Grants as a Percent of the Y's Total Other Income (i.e. non-FJP income). All work is property of Avigail S. Oren. Please do not use without permission.

I was surprised because I had long hypothesized that the Y benefitted from these government grants, because they made the Y less financially vulnerable to fluctuations in their annual allocation from FJP. Clearly, although the government funds balanced out the risk of a possible decrease in their FJP allocations in any given year, it did not do enough to diversify the Y's sources of income. On average, between 1973-79 one-third of the Y's total income depended on the government, one-third on FJP's allocation, and one-third on membership dues and fees. Government money may have buffered the Y in years when their FJP allocation decreased, but it too was subject to fluctuations and possible cuts.

These numbers helped me to recognize a great truth in life: any given solution may not solve all aspects of a problem, and often it can create new problems. While government money provided a measure of financial stability to the Y in the early 1970s, the Y suffered doubly in 1975 when the toxic market forces of hyperinflation, spiking energy prices, and New York City's fiscal crisis led to cuts in both its government and FJP funding. It's a valuable reminder that income diversification is essential for individuals, businesses, and voluntary/charitable organizations alike, and that leaders must consider (and plan for) the consequences of pursuing each new stream of income.  

Rock Concert

This past week, I have been writing a case study about the Senior Citizens Center established at the YM-YWHA of Washington Heights-Inwood in 1973. As a result, I have been thoroughly rereading the minutes of the meetings held by the Y's Board of Directors in the 1970s. Although the Board devoted much of its discussion to its new programs for older adults, the minutes reflect that the Board was also concerned by declining participation in their programs for teenagers and young adults. They often discussed strategies to reengage lapsed members and recruit new ones.

One suggestion that arose again and again was a "rock" concert [puzzling quotation marks theirs, not mine]. Board members proposed a rock concert on three separate occasions in 1971 and 1972, without ever elaborating on what bands they could possibly get to play such a show. Neither did they reflect on the fact that teenagers may not be interested in an act or band that a group of middle-aged adults found palatable. 

In 1978, the Y actually did follow through on the strategy. In May of that year, the Y's Teen Supervisor, Stan Friedman, suggested to the members of the Board's Program Committee that they re-launch the Teen Program with a rock concert. The minutes recorded: "Members would be allowed to bring one friend. Again, a special invitation would go to the list of Jewish Teens. Stan said that a former gym member of the Y, Dennis Minogue, is now a band manager."

The concert was held in December, and in the intervening months the goal shifted from recruiting teenagers to recruiting college-aged young adults into a new Y program for this age group. Although staff member Martin Englisher reported to the Y Board that 110 people had attended the show, most were non-Jewish high school students who were not Y members. Englisher concluded, "It was felt that the concert, although it went well, did not really serve the Y's purpose."

Most remarkably, the rock concert continues to be an idea that adults suggest for teen recruitment and engagement. I texted a friend who works with teenagers in the Jewish community about the Y's history with rock concerts--admittedly, my description was hyperbolic--and she responded that this is an idea she still hears with regularity, despite rock music's precipitous decline in popularity in the 21st century.

The problem with suggesting a rock concert, besides its being freighted with nostalgia, is that it is not something that teenagers need. A rock concert is something that adults think teens want, and no one likes to be told what they should want or what they should find meaningful. With history on my side, I urge the adults who lead Jewish communal organizations to retire this strategy. 

Productivity Humor (TGIF)

A few weeks ago, I watched my friends' cat, Bigsby, for a few hours as a favor. I had hoped that she would cuddle with me while I worked, but she mostly seemed irritated about the whole situation and stayed in her crate. I tried to salvage the afternoon and capture a cute photo, at least, but only got a withering stare. 

This morning I was searching through my photos for a document I photographed at the archive earlier this summer, and I came upon the snap I took of glowering Bigsby. I decided to send it to her owners, who are also academics and devotees of the pomodoro technique.

I thought the conversation would end there, but my friend's creativity had been sparked...

And with that, I think this week's a wrap.