Saturday, June 30, 2012
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
final process piece
I found this class more difficult than I thought I would. I came in with a background in Creative Nonfiction, and absolutely no experience in any kind of journalism, and as I've realized throughout the quarter, there is a lot that I don't know about the differences between academic and journalistic writing. I still don't think that I know as much as I should, but I do know a lot more than I ever expected to. Hopefully what I have learned reflects in my final revisions. It's been interesting, balancing the way this class feels (more academic writing than creative writing) with the way that journalism actually works on the page.
I come to this class having had experience working on a podcast in the past. My role was largely in coordination, but I also ran the "mailbag" segment and recorded and guided several discussions. I found myself, throughout the quarter, making comparisons to what that work was like. Pursuing interviews was ultimately very similar; editing together the audio also was similar, and I think my experience editing segments for the podcast helped out with that. It also hindered me a little bit - that, and my psych background/interest in clinical psychology, and to a lesser extent, my exposure to Kenyan culture regarding conversation styles, has made me the kind of person who uses minimal positive encouragers when speaking to people (mhmms, yeahs, smiles, nods), and it was hard to turn that off when I was recording.
I have found the process of pursuing a story intimidating... and invigorating. At first, I was uncertain about interviewing contacts, and, more importantly, pursuing further contacts. I'm still uncertain about what to do when people reject interviews - which has happened once or twice with the Building Blocks piece - but overall I like to think that I have learned a little bit about the interviewing process in general, including what kind of questions to ask to get to the heart of the story. I've had a wide range of experiences interviewing, from interviewing completely strangers (KMRHS) to interviewing a man who I am very close to on a certain level (Kim Cummings). The approach to getting to a point of trust and to get to the story with both of these people was so different, and yet so similar - with the KMRHS men, I had to build from nothing; with Kim, I had to work around our existing relationship in order to get to the heart of things.
Coming up with my story ideas was very easy. I know what interests me and although I did not come into the class knowing what I wanted to write about, as I learned more about each assignment, the path I wanted to take became very clear. I don't really have any problems talking to people, and I like learning exhaustively about specific topics, so the research was also easy for me. Writing was a little harder; I had difficulty distilling what I wanted to say about each topic into one specific piece, and I often came up with two or three possibilities before deciding on one (like I did with my audio visual slideshow too!).
Because I was not as familiar with the journalism approach, I really appreciated the feedback from my peers as a guide to where to go and how to adjust my output to better fit journalistic styles, et cetera. However, also through this class, I became quite acquainted with what I like to see in a story :P so when the advice of my peers was in direct contradiction with my personal preference or with my gut feeling, I went with what I felt more strongly about.
Writing for this course helped me sharpen skills that I'm sure I'll use for the podcast in the future. I also learned that the kind of creativity needed to write journalism pieces comes more difficultly to me, so that, should I pursue more of it in the future, I will need to be sure to address that.
Finally, on a lighter note - this course, and the research I did for my pieces, gave me a much, much deeper appreciation for the research my uncle Glenn has to put into each of his Fact-Checker articles.
I come to this class having had experience working on a podcast in the past. My role was largely in coordination, but I also ran the "mailbag" segment and recorded and guided several discussions. I found myself, throughout the quarter, making comparisons to what that work was like. Pursuing interviews was ultimately very similar; editing together the audio also was similar, and I think my experience editing segments for the podcast helped out with that. It also hindered me a little bit - that, and my psych background/interest in clinical psychology, and to a lesser extent, my exposure to Kenyan culture regarding conversation styles, has made me the kind of person who uses minimal positive encouragers when speaking to people (mhmms, yeahs, smiles, nods), and it was hard to turn that off when I was recording.
I have found the process of pursuing a story intimidating... and invigorating. At first, I was uncertain about interviewing contacts, and, more importantly, pursuing further contacts. I'm still uncertain about what to do when people reject interviews - which has happened once or twice with the Building Blocks piece - but overall I like to think that I have learned a little bit about the interviewing process in general, including what kind of questions to ask to get to the heart of the story. I've had a wide range of experiences interviewing, from interviewing completely strangers (KMRHS) to interviewing a man who I am very close to on a certain level (Kim Cummings). The approach to getting to a point of trust and to get to the story with both of these people was so different, and yet so similar - with the KMRHS men, I had to build from nothing; with Kim, I had to work around our existing relationship in order to get to the heart of things.
Coming up with my story ideas was very easy. I know what interests me and although I did not come into the class knowing what I wanted to write about, as I learned more about each assignment, the path I wanted to take became very clear. I don't really have any problems talking to people, and I like learning exhaustively about specific topics, so the research was also easy for me. Writing was a little harder; I had difficulty distilling what I wanted to say about each topic into one specific piece, and I often came up with two or three possibilities before deciding on one (like I did with my audio visual slideshow too!).
Because I was not as familiar with the journalism approach, I really appreciated the feedback from my peers as a guide to where to go and how to adjust my output to better fit journalistic styles, et cetera. However, also through this class, I became quite acquainted with what I like to see in a story :P so when the advice of my peers was in direct contradiction with my personal preference or with my gut feeling, I went with what I felt more strongly about.
Writing for this course helped me sharpen skills that I'm sure I'll use for the podcast in the future. I also learned that the kind of creativity needed to write journalism pieces comes more difficultly to me, so that, should I pursue more of it in the future, I will need to be sure to address that.
Finally, on a lighter note - this course, and the research I did for my pieces, gave me a much, much deeper appreciation for the research my uncle Glenn has to put into each of his Fact-Checker articles.
Building Blocks revision
Kim Cummings, professor emeritus of the Anthropology/Sociology department of Kalamazoo College, is the lifeblood behind the Kalamazoo Building Blocks program.
The Building Blocks program has existed, in some form or fashion in Kalamazoo, since 1995. Today, it is a fledgling course at Western Michigan University. The program is experiencing difficulties recruiting enough students to participate, but neighborhood residents, as well as the program's financial backers, are passionate about keeping it running.
Building Blocks, officially listed on class registration forms as ANSO 224: Neighborhood Organizing Practicum, began as a class at Kalamazoo College in the spring of 1995. Originally designed as a way for students to develop advanced organizing skills through working on community-based projects, Building Blocks, by its last years at Kalamazoo, functioned as half-theory, half-application intensive life experience. Students, in groups of three, worked specific blocks of houses in neighborhoods in transition in Kalamazoo, Michigan. Given anywhere between $2,500 and $3,000 in grant money – depending on how generous donations, taken from a number of churches and companies local to Kalamazoo, were in any given year – student organizers worked with neighborhood association managers and resident advisors, themselves previous Building Blocks participants, to rally neighborhood residents. The cover story was that residents would be given money to make exterior home improvements – maybe to buy paint, or flowers, or shrubs to pretty the place up; maybe to fix that hole in the porch; maybe to replace the window sills. The catch was that they had to work with their neighbors to actually get the work done. The goal? Building social capital, and creating a network of neighbors that each resident could potentially rely on if the need arose.
When Kim Cummings retired, one of his stipulations for retirement was that he be permitted to continue teaching Building Blocks, as well as his winter course, How to Change the World. The department could not afford to pay Cummings to teach these courses; as a result, he opted to take no salary for How to Change the World, and to take salary for Building Blocks from grant money from the program itself, rather than from the school. According to Cummings, he was promised five years of adjunct teaching, at which point the programs would be re-evaluated.
This lasted for three years. In the spring of 2010, however, Cummings was informed of the Anthropology/Sociology department's decision to eliminate the Building Blocks program. He started seeking out alternatives to hosting the program. The Philosophy department was briefly considered, but, with just two professors, it did not have the resources to support a class of the Building Blocks magnitude.
The source of the final decision to no longer support Building Blocks on Kalamazoo College campus is unclear. Rumors abound: philosophical differences between Cummings and other Anthropology/Sociology professors; fights between Cummings and school Provost Mickey McDonald; and demands on the part of the fledgling Arcus Center for Social Justice Leadership to remove the program so they could start their own, similar, courses, are just several of the theories circulating about the issue. Unfortunately, no one involved in deciding to remove the program could be reached for comment.
During the ninth week of Kalamazoo College's ten-week-long spring quarter, several weeks after he was informed of the decision, Kim Cummings sent an email to all past participants of Building Blocks with the subject line, myself included. "Calling all BB/09ers: Sad announcement to make." The contents of the email were brief and to the point: "I'm calling all BB/09s--sophomores, juniors, and seniors--to meet at the end of tonight's BB seminar, 10:00 p.m. in Dewing 310. I have a very sad announcement to make."
I was unable to attend the meeting, but according to other participants who did manage to be there, he revealed to Building Blocks classes past and present that Building Blocks was going to be removed from the curriculum. And then, Building Blocks 2010 participant Allie VanHeest said, "he sat down and we organized. We held discussions with administrators, rallied in Red Square, and led a letter-writing campaign."
There was a lot of heartbreak and, yes, drama surrounding the decision to discontinue offering the class at Kalamazoo. Most people have no idea why the decision was made, and even less idea why it was enforced. The decision sparked a flurry of strong responses. The residents of one of the target blocks of Spring 2010, Lowden Street in Oakwood neighborhood, wrote a group letter to the editor in the Kalamazoo Gazette stating that "We're sadden by the late breaking bulletin from Kalamazoo College Provost… about the possible demise of the Building Blocks Kalamazoo Program. We can only pray that he will reconsider and acknowledge the impact that this stellar program has had…. Let's save Michigan with neighbors helping neighbors." The letter was signed collectively, as a block, rather than by any individual residents, presumably as an effort to showcase one aspect of the program's success.
Students rallied. Petitions circulated campus. People wrote alumni who previously participated, begging them to contact the Provost's office and ask them to reconsider the decision. During those final hot and sunny days of the 2010 spring quarter, students with clipboards set up shop in several high-traffic areas of campus, calling to every student passing by, asking them to sign their petitions. I confess to playing my part by signing the petition and joining the group of students going around telling the story of their Building Blocks experiences to students who had not had the chance to enroll in the course. All of these actions were to no avail.
Student Ben Ensroth remembered the situation differently than any of the protesters. As one of the students on the interim committee for the Arcus Center for Social Justice Leadership, he had quite a few formal and informal interactions with the Provost and the President's staff. This gave him a unique insight into their reactions to the Building Blocks controversy. "They weren't going to change their minds," he said. "I didn't come down strongly on either side of it. The argument that it didn't really fit in with the curriculum held a lot of water. But still - did I wish they kept such a unique program? At the end of the day, yes, but it doesn't matter. Because it was such a hot button topic – the things I overheard from working with the president's staff and a lot of people from within anthropology/sociology on other things – the decision had been made. They weren't going to keep the program. It was going to get cut. There was really no hope of saving it."
Luckily, hope was not lost for the program. Cummings found his solution at Western Michigan University. The school of social work took Cummings – and the program – in. He recruited several K students, Allie VanHeest and Nicole Allman, to serve as TAs for the first year at Western. According to Cummings, "Western was wonderfully receptive. Don Cooney from the School of Social Work knew about the program well… and was quick to encourage the school of social work to pick it up." A lot of that actually had to do with how students at Kalamazoo were rallying to keep the course. "People at Western were seeing how hard students were fighting for it at K," Cummings said. He sees that as instrumental in Western's decision to pick up the course.
This spring marks the first year that no Kalamazoo students have been involved in Building Blocks since its inception. His current TA is a Western student, Erin Kaplan, and all of his students are also Western students currently attending Western Michigan's summer intensive session.
This transition, beyond Western's quick decision to integrate it into their curriculum, was not easy for Cummings, or for the program. "What's been hard is to get the number of students. I don't have the same connections at Western that I did at K."
He went to 22 different classes across several departments at Western and advertised the Building Blocks course to all the students in each class. "Kalamazoo is really unique," Cummings said. Western is a lot larger, and as such, word of mouth is not the driving force in drawing students to the program that it was at Kalamazoo. Still, many Western students seem to be interested in the program. Unfortunately, according to Cummings "Western students are more likely to be employed, part time or full time, or they have other classes, so they can't spend as much time in the neighborhoods." Because of this, and the fact that Western's summer session is several weeks shorter than an academic quarter at Kalamazoo, he has had to make the course less academically demanding.
Additionally, students have less wiggle room to deal with possible setbacks. "They really have to do everything exactly on time because there's less forgiveness in the schedule," Cummings said. Whereas, while the program was at K, students had several weeks to coax residents of the neighborhoods to participate, at Western, "they just have to do it, and if residents don't sign up at the start, it's really hard to integrate them."
The biggest problem arose with the fact that Western's summer session is not covered by financial aid. Many interested students had to withdraw their applications to participate in the Building Blocks class for financial reasons. As it stands, rather than three students per participating blocks, now only two – and, in one case, one – students are on a team.
The community overall is still grateful to the program. Present Building Blocks TA Erin Kaplan worked in the Fairmont neighborhood when she took the course, and when she was there, largely through the efforts of her block, the Fairmont Neighborhood Association was dissolved and re-formed as the West Douglas Neighborhood Association. Although Kaplan did not speak about the politics involved in the transition, she did reveal a little of the backstory. "Before and during the project, my residents would complain that Fairmont Neighborhood Association was 'shady'… However, I continue to run into residents who say 'I hope you know—your project [Building Blocks] fixed more than the street, but the Association as well.'"
Others agreed about the importance of the program. One resident of Vine neighborhood was overheard saying, "I saw the Building Blocks signs go up the other day. It's always great to see them there."
The Building Blocks board of directors is excited about the program's new home at Western Michigan University. Students are, too – Kaplan said "I think the project is going as well as it could be going." Still, Cummings is keeping his eyes open for other possible opportunities, in case it just doesn't stick there. As for the future – "Who knows?" he said. "If we just can't get enough students, maybe we'll move to resident organizers."
In any event, it seems that – for the time being – even though Building Blocks no longer has a home at Kalamazoo College, it will continue being a community presence for as long as possible.
The Building Blocks program has existed, in some form or fashion in Kalamazoo, since 1995. Today, it is a fledgling course at Western Michigan University. The program is experiencing difficulties recruiting enough students to participate, but neighborhood residents, as well as the program's financial backers, are passionate about keeping it running.
Building Blocks, officially listed on class registration forms as ANSO 224: Neighborhood Organizing Practicum, began as a class at Kalamazoo College in the spring of 1995. Originally designed as a way for students to develop advanced organizing skills through working on community-based projects, Building Blocks, by its last years at Kalamazoo, functioned as half-theory, half-application intensive life experience. Students, in groups of three, worked specific blocks of houses in neighborhoods in transition in Kalamazoo, Michigan. Given anywhere between $2,500 and $3,000 in grant money – depending on how generous donations, taken from a number of churches and companies local to Kalamazoo, were in any given year – student organizers worked with neighborhood association managers and resident advisors, themselves previous Building Blocks participants, to rally neighborhood residents. The cover story was that residents would be given money to make exterior home improvements – maybe to buy paint, or flowers, or shrubs to pretty the place up; maybe to fix that hole in the porch; maybe to replace the window sills. The catch was that they had to work with their neighbors to actually get the work done. The goal? Building social capital, and creating a network of neighbors that each resident could potentially rely on if the need arose.
When Kim Cummings retired, one of his stipulations for retirement was that he be permitted to continue teaching Building Blocks, as well as his winter course, How to Change the World. The department could not afford to pay Cummings to teach these courses; as a result, he opted to take no salary for How to Change the World, and to take salary for Building Blocks from grant money from the program itself, rather than from the school. According to Cummings, he was promised five years of adjunct teaching, at which point the programs would be re-evaluated.
This lasted for three years. In the spring of 2010, however, Cummings was informed of the Anthropology/Sociology department's decision to eliminate the Building Blocks program. He started seeking out alternatives to hosting the program. The Philosophy department was briefly considered, but, with just two professors, it did not have the resources to support a class of the Building Blocks magnitude.
The source of the final decision to no longer support Building Blocks on Kalamazoo College campus is unclear. Rumors abound: philosophical differences between Cummings and other Anthropology/Sociology professors; fights between Cummings and school Provost Mickey McDonald; and demands on the part of the fledgling Arcus Center for Social Justice Leadership to remove the program so they could start their own, similar, courses, are just several of the theories circulating about the issue. Unfortunately, no one involved in deciding to remove the program could be reached for comment.
During the ninth week of Kalamazoo College's ten-week-long spring quarter, several weeks after he was informed of the decision, Kim Cummings sent an email to all past participants of Building Blocks with the subject line, myself included. "Calling all BB/09ers: Sad announcement to make." The contents of the email were brief and to the point: "I'm calling all BB/09s--sophomores, juniors, and seniors--to meet at the end of tonight's BB seminar, 10:00 p.m. in Dewing 310. I have a very sad announcement to make."
I was unable to attend the meeting, but according to other participants who did manage to be there, he revealed to Building Blocks classes past and present that Building Blocks was going to be removed from the curriculum. And then, Building Blocks 2010 participant Allie VanHeest said, "he sat down and we organized. We held discussions with administrators, rallied in Red Square, and led a letter-writing campaign."
There was a lot of heartbreak and, yes, drama surrounding the decision to discontinue offering the class at Kalamazoo. Most people have no idea why the decision was made, and even less idea why it was enforced. The decision sparked a flurry of strong responses. The residents of one of the target blocks of Spring 2010, Lowden Street in Oakwood neighborhood, wrote a group letter to the editor in the Kalamazoo Gazette stating that "We're sadden by the late breaking bulletin from Kalamazoo College Provost… about the possible demise of the Building Blocks Kalamazoo Program. We can only pray that he will reconsider and acknowledge the impact that this stellar program has had…. Let's save Michigan with neighbors helping neighbors." The letter was signed collectively, as a block, rather than by any individual residents, presumably as an effort to showcase one aspect of the program's success.
Students rallied. Petitions circulated campus. People wrote alumni who previously participated, begging them to contact the Provost's office and ask them to reconsider the decision. During those final hot and sunny days of the 2010 spring quarter, students with clipboards set up shop in several high-traffic areas of campus, calling to every student passing by, asking them to sign their petitions. I confess to playing my part by signing the petition and joining the group of students going around telling the story of their Building Blocks experiences to students who had not had the chance to enroll in the course. All of these actions were to no avail.
Student Ben Ensroth remembered the situation differently than any of the protesters. As one of the students on the interim committee for the Arcus Center for Social Justice Leadership, he had quite a few formal and informal interactions with the Provost and the President's staff. This gave him a unique insight into their reactions to the Building Blocks controversy. "They weren't going to change their minds," he said. "I didn't come down strongly on either side of it. The argument that it didn't really fit in with the curriculum held a lot of water. But still - did I wish they kept such a unique program? At the end of the day, yes, but it doesn't matter. Because it was such a hot button topic – the things I overheard from working with the president's staff and a lot of people from within anthropology/sociology on other things – the decision had been made. They weren't going to keep the program. It was going to get cut. There was really no hope of saving it."
Luckily, hope was not lost for the program. Cummings found his solution at Western Michigan University. The school of social work took Cummings – and the program – in. He recruited several K students, Allie VanHeest and Nicole Allman, to serve as TAs for the first year at Western. According to Cummings, "Western was wonderfully receptive. Don Cooney from the School of Social Work knew about the program well… and was quick to encourage the school of social work to pick it up." A lot of that actually had to do with how students at Kalamazoo were rallying to keep the course. "People at Western were seeing how hard students were fighting for it at K," Cummings said. He sees that as instrumental in Western's decision to pick up the course.
This spring marks the first year that no Kalamazoo students have been involved in Building Blocks since its inception. His current TA is a Western student, Erin Kaplan, and all of his students are also Western students currently attending Western Michigan's summer intensive session.
This transition, beyond Western's quick decision to integrate it into their curriculum, was not easy for Cummings, or for the program. "What's been hard is to get the number of students. I don't have the same connections at Western that I did at K."
He went to 22 different classes across several departments at Western and advertised the Building Blocks course to all the students in each class. "Kalamazoo is really unique," Cummings said. Western is a lot larger, and as such, word of mouth is not the driving force in drawing students to the program that it was at Kalamazoo. Still, many Western students seem to be interested in the program. Unfortunately, according to Cummings "Western students are more likely to be employed, part time or full time, or they have other classes, so they can't spend as much time in the neighborhoods." Because of this, and the fact that Western's summer session is several weeks shorter than an academic quarter at Kalamazoo, he has had to make the course less academically demanding.
Additionally, students have less wiggle room to deal with possible setbacks. "They really have to do everything exactly on time because there's less forgiveness in the schedule," Cummings said. Whereas, while the program was at K, students had several weeks to coax residents of the neighborhoods to participate, at Western, "they just have to do it, and if residents don't sign up at the start, it's really hard to integrate them."
The biggest problem arose with the fact that Western's summer session is not covered by financial aid. Many interested students had to withdraw their applications to participate in the Building Blocks class for financial reasons. As it stands, rather than three students per participating blocks, now only two – and, in one case, one – students are on a team.
The community overall is still grateful to the program. Present Building Blocks TA Erin Kaplan worked in the Fairmont neighborhood when she took the course, and when she was there, largely through the efforts of her block, the Fairmont Neighborhood Association was dissolved and re-formed as the West Douglas Neighborhood Association. Although Kaplan did not speak about the politics involved in the transition, she did reveal a little of the backstory. "Before and during the project, my residents would complain that Fairmont Neighborhood Association was 'shady'… However, I continue to run into residents who say 'I hope you know—your project [Building Blocks] fixed more than the street, but the Association as well.'"
Others agreed about the importance of the program. One resident of Vine neighborhood was overheard saying, "I saw the Building Blocks signs go up the other day. It's always great to see them there."
The Building Blocks board of directors is excited about the program's new home at Western Michigan University. Students are, too – Kaplan said "I think the project is going as well as it could be going." Still, Cummings is keeping his eyes open for other possible opportunities, in case it just doesn't stick there. As for the future – "Who knows?" he said. "If we just can't get enough students, maybe we'll move to resident organizers."
In any event, it seems that – for the time being – even though Building Blocks no longer has a home at Kalamazoo College, it will continue being a community presence for as long as possible.
Monday, June 4, 2012
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
On writing the final narrative
This was difficult to write, mostly because a lot of people are either not very forthcoming about the building blocks controversy at all, or about any criticisms of the program in general. Also, in my interview with Kim, there was quite a bit he said that he later asked me not to put into my piece. Several people I've approached who were instrumental in getting Building Blocks kicked off campus have refused to talk to me at all. Still, I'm going to try to get more interviews to flesh it out.
Still, I feel pretty confident about this. I think I'm coming into an actual journalistic writing style - feel free to tell me if I'm wrong :P - that actually works.
What I want to know is: what is this missing? I was omitting stuff from previous Index articles about the transition because I did not want to rehash, but I might need to incorporate that later. Did it make sense? Was it interesting?
Still, I feel pretty confident about this. I think I'm coming into an actual journalistic writing style - feel free to tell me if I'm wrong :P - that actually works.
What I want to know is: what is this missing? I was omitting stuff from previous Index articles about the transition because I did not want to rehash, but I might need to incorporate that later. Did it make sense? Was it interesting?
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Building Blocks Lives On at Western Michigan University
(I have more interviews scheduled within the next week to flesh this out for the final draft)
May 24, 2010. Monday. 9th week. Spring Quarter. Kim Cummings sent an email to all past participants of Building Blocks with the subject line "Calling all BB/09ers: Sad announcement to make." The contents of the email were brief and to the point: "I'm calling all BB/09s--sophomores, juniors, and seniors--to meet at the end of tonight's BB seminar, 10:00 p.m. in Dewing 310. I have a very sad announcement to make."
At the meeting, he revealed to Building Blocks classes past and present that Building Blocks was going to be removed from the curriculum. And then, Building Blocks 2010 participant Allie VanHeest says, "he sat down and we organized. We held discussions with administrators, rallied in Red Square, and led a letter-writing campaign."
Building Blocks, officially listed on class registration forms as ANSO 224: Neighborhood Organizing Practicum, began as a class at Kalamazoo College in the spring of 1995. Originally designed as a way for students to develop advanced organizing skills through working on community-based projects, Building Blocks, by its last years at Kalamazoo, functioned as half-theory, half-application intensive life experience. Students, in groups of three, worked specific blocks in neighborhoods in transition in Kalamazoo, Michigan. Given anywhere between $2,500 and $3,000 in grant money – depending on how generous donations were in any given year – student organizers worked with neighborhood association managers and resident advisors to rally neighborhood residents. The cover story was that residents would be given money to make exterior home improvements – maybe to buy paint, or flowers, or shrubs to pretty the place up; maybe to fix that hole in the porch; maybe to replace the window sills. The catch was that they had to work with their neighbors to actually get the work done. The goal? Building social capital, and creating a network of neighbors that each resident could potentially rely on if the need arose.
There is a lot of heartbreak and, yes, drama surrounding the decision to discontinue offering the class at Kalamazoo. Most people have no idea why the decision was made, and even less idea why it was enforced. The decision sparked a flurry of strong responses. The residents of one of the target blocks of Spring 2010, Lowden Street in Oakwood neighborhood, wrote a letter to the editor in the Kalamazoo Gazette stating that "We're sadden by the late breaking bulletin from Kalamazoo College Provost… about the possible demise of the Building Blocks Kalamazoo Program. We can only pray that he will reconsider and acknowledge the impact that this stellar program has had…. Let's save Michigan with neighbors helping neighbors."
Students rallied. Petitions circulated campus. People wrote alumni who previously participated, begging them to contact the Provost's office and ask them to reconsider the decision – to no avail.
Student Ben Ensroth remembers the situation differently than any of the protesters. One of the students on the interim committee for the Arcus Center for Social Justice Leadership, he had quite a bit of informal interactions with the Provost, and the President's staff. "They weren't going to change their minds," he says. "I didn't come down strongly on either side of it. The argument that it didn't really fit in with the curriculum held a lot of water. But still - did I wish they kept such a unique program? At the end of the day, yes, but it doesn't matter. Because it was such a hot button topic – the things I overheard from working with the president's staff and a lot of people from within anthropology/sociology on other things – the decision had been made. They weren't going to keep the program. It was going to get cut. There was really no hope of saving it."
Kim Cummings is the lifeblood behind the Building Blocks program. One of his stipulations for retirement was that he be permitted to continue teaching Building Blocks and his winter course, How To Change The World. He was informed of the decision to eliminate the Building Blocks program a while [check how long] before he informed his students. As soon as it was clear that Building Blocks would not be able to remain at Kalamazoo, either in the AnSo department or in the Philosophy department, as was briefly considered, Cummings started looking for alternate options.
He found his solution at Western Michigan University. The school of social work took Cummings – and the program – in. He recruited several K students, Allie VanHeest and Nicole Allman, to serve as TAs for the first year at Western. "Western was wonderfully receptive," he says. "Don Cooney from the School of Social Work knew about the program well… and was quick to encourage the school of social work to pick it up." A lot of that actually had to do with how students at Kalamazoo were rallying to keep the course. "People at Western were seeing how hard students were fighting for it at K," Kim says. He sees that as instrumental in Western's decision to pick up the course.
This spring marks the first year that no Kalamazoo students have been involved in Building Blocks since its inception. His current TA is a Western student, Erin Kaplan, and all of his students are also Western students currently attending Western Michigan's summer intensive session.
This transition, beyond Western's quick decision to integrate it into their curriculum, has not been easy for Kim, or for the program. "What's been hard is to get the number of students," he says. "I don't have the same connections at Western that I did at K."
He went to 22 different classes across several departments at Western and advertised the Building Blocks course to all the students in each class. "Kalamazoo is really unique," Cummings says. Western is a lot larger, and as such, word of mouth is not the driving force in drawing students to the program that it was at Kalamazoo. Still, many Western students seem to be interested in the program. Unfortunately, "Western students are more likely to be employed, part time or full time," Kim says. "Or they have other classes, so they can't spend as much time in the neighborhoods." Because of this, and the fact that Western's summer session is several weeks shorter than an academic quarter at Kalamazoo, he has had to make the course less academically demanding.
Additionally, students have less wiggle room to deal with possible setbacks. "They really have to do everything exactly on time because there's less forgiveness in the schedule," Kim says. Whereas, while the program was at K, students had several weeks to coax residents of the neighborhoods to participate, at Western, "they just have to do it, and if residents don't sign up at the start, it's really hard to integrate them."
The biggest problem arises with the fact that Western's summer session is not covered by financial aid. Many interested students had to withdraw their applications to participate in the Building Blocks class for financial reasons. As it stands, rather than three students per participating blocks, now only two – and, in one case, one – students are on a team.
Still, the community overall is still grateful to the program. The Eastside neighborhood has not applied to be part of the program for several years. Still, neighborhood association director Pat Taylor says, "People keep coming by the office and asking if it's going to be back this year. They really miss it."
Others agree. One resident of Vine neighborhood was overheard saying, "I saw the building blocks signs go up the other day. It's always great to see them there."
The Building Blocks board of directors is excited about the program's new home at Western Michigan University. Still, Kim is keeping his eyes open for other possible opportunities, in case it just doesn't stick there. As for the future – "Who knows?" Kim says. "If we just can't get enough students, maybe we'll move to resident organizers."
In any event, it seems that – for the time being – even though Building Blocks no longer has a home at Kalamazoo College, it will continue being a community presence for as long as possible.
May 24, 2010. Monday. 9th week. Spring Quarter. Kim Cummings sent an email to all past participants of Building Blocks with the subject line "Calling all BB/09ers: Sad announcement to make." The contents of the email were brief and to the point: "I'm calling all BB/09s--sophomores, juniors, and seniors--to meet at the end of tonight's BB seminar, 10:00 p.m. in Dewing 310. I have a very sad announcement to make."
At the meeting, he revealed to Building Blocks classes past and present that Building Blocks was going to be removed from the curriculum. And then, Building Blocks 2010 participant Allie VanHeest says, "he sat down and we organized. We held discussions with administrators, rallied in Red Square, and led a letter-writing campaign."
Building Blocks, officially listed on class registration forms as ANSO 224: Neighborhood Organizing Practicum, began as a class at Kalamazoo College in the spring of 1995. Originally designed as a way for students to develop advanced organizing skills through working on community-based projects, Building Blocks, by its last years at Kalamazoo, functioned as half-theory, half-application intensive life experience. Students, in groups of three, worked specific blocks in neighborhoods in transition in Kalamazoo, Michigan. Given anywhere between $2,500 and $3,000 in grant money – depending on how generous donations were in any given year – student organizers worked with neighborhood association managers and resident advisors to rally neighborhood residents. The cover story was that residents would be given money to make exterior home improvements – maybe to buy paint, or flowers, or shrubs to pretty the place up; maybe to fix that hole in the porch; maybe to replace the window sills. The catch was that they had to work with their neighbors to actually get the work done. The goal? Building social capital, and creating a network of neighbors that each resident could potentially rely on if the need arose.
There is a lot of heartbreak and, yes, drama surrounding the decision to discontinue offering the class at Kalamazoo. Most people have no idea why the decision was made, and even less idea why it was enforced. The decision sparked a flurry of strong responses. The residents of one of the target blocks of Spring 2010, Lowden Street in Oakwood neighborhood, wrote a letter to the editor in the Kalamazoo Gazette stating that "We're sadden by the late breaking bulletin from Kalamazoo College Provost… about the possible demise of the Building Blocks Kalamazoo Program. We can only pray that he will reconsider and acknowledge the impact that this stellar program has had…. Let's save Michigan with neighbors helping neighbors."
Students rallied. Petitions circulated campus. People wrote alumni who previously participated, begging them to contact the Provost's office and ask them to reconsider the decision – to no avail.
Student Ben Ensroth remembers the situation differently than any of the protesters. One of the students on the interim committee for the Arcus Center for Social Justice Leadership, he had quite a bit of informal interactions with the Provost, and the President's staff. "They weren't going to change their minds," he says. "I didn't come down strongly on either side of it. The argument that it didn't really fit in with the curriculum held a lot of water. But still - did I wish they kept such a unique program? At the end of the day, yes, but it doesn't matter. Because it was such a hot button topic – the things I overheard from working with the president's staff and a lot of people from within anthropology/sociology on other things – the decision had been made. They weren't going to keep the program. It was going to get cut. There was really no hope of saving it."
Kim Cummings is the lifeblood behind the Building Blocks program. One of his stipulations for retirement was that he be permitted to continue teaching Building Blocks and his winter course, How To Change The World. He was informed of the decision to eliminate the Building Blocks program a while [check how long] before he informed his students. As soon as it was clear that Building Blocks would not be able to remain at Kalamazoo, either in the AnSo department or in the Philosophy department, as was briefly considered, Cummings started looking for alternate options.
He found his solution at Western Michigan University. The school of social work took Cummings – and the program – in. He recruited several K students, Allie VanHeest and Nicole Allman, to serve as TAs for the first year at Western. "Western was wonderfully receptive," he says. "Don Cooney from the School of Social Work knew about the program well… and was quick to encourage the school of social work to pick it up." A lot of that actually had to do with how students at Kalamazoo were rallying to keep the course. "People at Western were seeing how hard students were fighting for it at K," Kim says. He sees that as instrumental in Western's decision to pick up the course.
This spring marks the first year that no Kalamazoo students have been involved in Building Blocks since its inception. His current TA is a Western student, Erin Kaplan, and all of his students are also Western students currently attending Western Michigan's summer intensive session.
This transition, beyond Western's quick decision to integrate it into their curriculum, has not been easy for Kim, or for the program. "What's been hard is to get the number of students," he says. "I don't have the same connections at Western that I did at K."
He went to 22 different classes across several departments at Western and advertised the Building Blocks course to all the students in each class. "Kalamazoo is really unique," Cummings says. Western is a lot larger, and as such, word of mouth is not the driving force in drawing students to the program that it was at Kalamazoo. Still, many Western students seem to be interested in the program. Unfortunately, "Western students are more likely to be employed, part time or full time," Kim says. "Or they have other classes, so they can't spend as much time in the neighborhoods." Because of this, and the fact that Western's summer session is several weeks shorter than an academic quarter at Kalamazoo, he has had to make the course less academically demanding.
Additionally, students have less wiggle room to deal with possible setbacks. "They really have to do everything exactly on time because there's less forgiveness in the schedule," Kim says. Whereas, while the program was at K, students had several weeks to coax residents of the neighborhoods to participate, at Western, "they just have to do it, and if residents don't sign up at the start, it's really hard to integrate them."
The biggest problem arises with the fact that Western's summer session is not covered by financial aid. Many interested students had to withdraw their applications to participate in the Building Blocks class for financial reasons. As it stands, rather than three students per participating blocks, now only two – and, in one case, one – students are on a team.
Still, the community overall is still grateful to the program. The Eastside neighborhood has not applied to be part of the program for several years. Still, neighborhood association director Pat Taylor says, "People keep coming by the office and asking if it's going to be back this year. They really miss it."
Others agree. One resident of Vine neighborhood was overheard saying, "I saw the building blocks signs go up the other day. It's always great to see them there."
The Building Blocks board of directors is excited about the program's new home at Western Michigan University. Still, Kim is keeping his eyes open for other possible opportunities, in case it just doesn't stick there. As for the future – "Who knows?" Kim says. "If we just can't get enough students, maybe we'll move to resident organizers."
In any event, it seems that – for the time being – even though Building Blocks no longer has a home at Kalamazoo College, it will continue being a community presence for as long as possible.
Friday, May 18, 2012
KMRHS
Edited profile piece
Model railroading is a relatively hidden hobby to those who do not have friends or family members already involved. It is frequently passed down from parent to child. Generally, parents buy basic train sets for their kids; sometimes, enthusiast parents "drag their kids along to all these shows," (large fairs where people familiar with the history of various specific railroads and trains are interspersed with multiple vendors sell locomotives, cars, and pieces of scenery) "whether their kids want to go or not." Mark Tomlonson, an unassuming man with dark hair and glasses who operates as treasurer of the Kalamazoo Model Railroad Historical Society, tells me that most enthusiasts are bitten by the train bug at a young age, and that "once people get interested in it, especially, say, if they're older than 13 when they become interested in it, they tend to stay interested in it for their entire lives."
Prior to my spontaneous decision to attend a model train show last fall, the only exposure I'd had to model railroading was through the generic magnetized-connection wooden sets belonging to kids that I have babysat for. I thought it was something that old men and young kids liked – I didn't realize that trains.com, the "#1 online destination for train enthusiasts!" has a directory of over seven hundred USA-specific model railroad clubs looking for new members, of all ages and genders. I thought it was more of a basement activity – I did not realize that clubs can be huge – up to a hundred members, in some cases – or that there were model railroad attractions such as Minatur Wunderland in Germany, which has over 39,000 feet of track. Something drove me to check out the model train show, however, and when I was there, something about the passion enthusiasts have for trains, and the camaraderie that people involved in model train clubs share, bit me. Since then, I have driven out to the Kalamazoo Model Railroad Historical Society four times, to find out more about how model railroads work and, more importantly, to get a read on the dynamic of the members of the society. On my last visit, several of the members started making noise about me applying to join the Society.
The Kalamazoo Model Railroad Historical Society is a one-stop shop for model train enthusiasts, with a respectably-sized railroad and a comprehensive library with shelves full of books and movies on the history of both model railroads and actual railroads, and full collections of Trains, Model Railroader, and Railroad Model Craftsman magazines. It is also really difficult to find – fitting, perhaps, for such a socially-hidden hobby. Located on Riverview Drive, to the north and east of Kalamazoo proper, reaching it involves driving through the small town of Parchment, Michigan, past neighborhoods and an airfield where stunt planes fly in twice a year, to a blink-and-you'll-miss-it driveway located in the middle of a sharp bend in the road. The first time I drove out to KMRHS, I missed it once. The third time I drove out, I missed it twice.
The driveway is long, marked only by a wooden contraption reminiscent of a hanging tree with a hand-lettered sign on top reading simply "KMRHS." The building at the end is unassuming, save for the large red caboose parked just outside, behind a transplanted Railroad Crossing warning post. This building has been the home of the Society since 1971, when the Kalamazoo Model Railroading Club moved out of its 20-year home in founding member Maury Highler's basement. Inside the main entrance is a true work of art: just over 212 feet of track laid out in a 20 feet by 40 feet area. There are tunnels and mountains, cities and shipping yards. Every bit of the scenery is accurate up to the year 1960 – hence the historical in the title of this organization – and all the trains are connected to a digital command center that helps coordinate everything. There are multiple towns, stations, and yards scattered about the layout, and during operating sessions, up to seven trains can run at once. Model train fall under a number of various scaled-down versions of real-life trains ranging from the model trains used to transport people around zoos to complex layouts that can fit inside a briefcase; the trains used at KMRHS are on the popular HO scale, meaning that every inch of track on this layout represents 87 inches, or just over seven feet, of actual real-life trains.
Scattered around the layout are examples of the sense of humor of scenery-building Society members: tiny little scenes, almost like the Easter eggs found in many computer games and DVD menus. Visitors are encouraged to take a slip of paper from a stack sitting by the wall. Each paper has a blurb reading "The Cooper Park & Eastern is filled with 'mini-scenes'. How many of these can you find? Some of them will take a bit of detective work, but all are in plain sight," followed by a randomized list of ten possible scenes, including the favorite of many members, "The 'Bare' Hunter," a scene where a bear is standing by a hunter squatting over a log with his pants down, and my personal favorite, "Movie Set," where a crowd of people surrounds a Marilyn Monroe figurine – skirt, of course, flying up – standing next to a pink Cadillac.
Mark Tomlonson, chief engineer for WMUK during the day and treasurer for KMRHS at night, is a lifelong enthusiast. When I ask him how he became interested in model trains, he says, "No idea. I, you know, I – the very first house I lived in, up to the age of 2 and a half, was just a couple hundred yards from a railroad track, and I think that might have something to do with it. But I have no idea what it's like to look at a train and not be interested in it." Later, I will ask if his family has any factor in his interest, and he will tell me that his "dad was interested in helping me, but he wasn't interested with trains." Mark joined the Society after the Battle Creek Jazz Ensemble imploded and freed up his Monday evenings.
Bill Geresy, an air force veteran with long grey hair and big glasses, has also been interested in trains since his "parents bought me a train set when I was a little little kid." A member of multiple model train clubs in other locations prior to living in Kalamazoo, his enthusiasm extended to actually working on the railroad "down in PawPaw" for five years, working the "whole package – I could work any job on any train" from freight to passenger to dinner trains. He joined the Society in 1985 and has been a member – save for a period of time when he was called up for National Guard duty – ever since.
This lifelong fascination with trains, though apparently the norm – these two men and David Hayes-Moats, the heavyset dark-haired president of the club, all have it. David tells me that he's "always liked trains." Even though he's had periods in his life where he has not been actively involved in model railroading, the fascination has lingered. The same seems to be true of the club's youngest member, a 15-year-old boy who has taken the narrow-gauge track on the layout on as his personal project and completed it, now running that track exclusively during operating sessions. He's been a member for several years, apparently, and is passionate and dedicated, though unfortunately could not be reached for comment.
Russ Barr, wide-grinned webmaster whose hair is in the process of turning from sandy to grey, sits down with us after he finishes painting scenery behind the track that runs through the bathroom. His story is different – although "I had a train set when I was a kid, managed to destroy it pretty good," he didn't really become interested in trains "until my wife dragged me to a hobby show, said I didn't have enough hobbies. I disagreed, but I kind of liked the challenge and a couple of the guys I met – we were really comfortable to talk to, so I built a small layout and joined the club, then abandoned the small layout because I've got a big one here."
However people come to model railroads, the hobby demands a lot of commitment once they become involved. "The most expensive part of model railroading is the time," Mark tells me. Although good HO cars cost about $50 each, with locomotives at around $100, it takes hours to keep trains going. The society has 37 regular members, ranging in age from 15 to 93; the average member puts in at least five hours a week, making sure the track is clean enough, that the electrical wiring is in order, painting cars, making sure the engines are running right, and setting up operating sessions, where a lot of members come together to run the trains based on a set schedule. Every month, the Kalamazoo Model Railroad Historical Society has five set work sessions for maintenance, one business meeting, and two operating sessions.
The operating sessions, which Russ describes as " like a computer game, but in 3D, and not as fast," are very regimented. Trains are set to run on a schedule, departing certain stations at certain times, picking up and dropping off "loads," like flour, at various train yards and in various cities. Some people man the train yards, switching cars and sending trains out at certain times. Some man specific trains, running them from one station and town to the next. One person is always the dispatcher, telling others when they are permitted to go and helping make sure that there are no collisions between trains. Each member possesses a small, leather-bound rulebook with some hundred-odd rules that detail what exactly proper behavior is, for every conceivable manifestation of model railway usage. These rules range what things train operators can say during an operating session (and how that changes if there are observers who are not members in the society) to which cars can be historically accurately hooked up to which engines and the preferred electrical wiring configurations of the track. The first rule in the book is that model railroads should be fun, and that everyone is to ensure that the experience remains fun. And members do, though God forbid anyone not start their train on time or run it at the appropriate speed and thus throw off the timing of the maneuvers within each session.
Still, during our interview, I get the same impression that I got the first time I stepped into the world of model railroading – that train show at the Kalamazoo Expo Center during the last week of October last fall where I first felt the attraction to this type of hobby: the point of this society is the sense of community that members get. New members have a probationary period (one member jokes that I've practically entered that period at this point, what with how many times I have visited, despite the fact that I have yet to run a single train) before they become full members of KMRHS, to make sure that they get along with everyone.
The system is imperfect – at the operating session I attended, there was a near-collision and two members got into an argument over how fast one member was running his train, and several comments that Russ makes about how long it takes to come to majority decisions in meetings give me the gut feeling that there is some tension within the ranks – but I do not get the impression that the glitches in the system are truly a problem. After all, as Mark tells me, "It's nice to pay the monthly dues just to have some place to go and talk about trains where people don't look at you funny."
Model railroading is a relatively hidden hobby to those who do not have friends or family members already involved. It is frequently passed down from parent to child. Generally, parents buy basic train sets for their kids; sometimes, enthusiast parents "drag their kids along to all these shows," (large fairs where people familiar with the history of various specific railroads and trains are interspersed with multiple vendors sell locomotives, cars, and pieces of scenery) "whether their kids want to go or not." Mark Tomlonson, an unassuming man with dark hair and glasses who operates as treasurer of the Kalamazoo Model Railroad Historical Society, tells me that most enthusiasts are bitten by the train bug at a young age, and that "once people get interested in it, especially, say, if they're older than 13 when they become interested in it, they tend to stay interested in it for their entire lives."
Prior to my spontaneous decision to attend a model train show last fall, the only exposure I'd had to model railroading was through the generic magnetized-connection wooden sets belonging to kids that I have babysat for. I thought it was something that old men and young kids liked – I didn't realize that trains.com, the "#1 online destination for train enthusiasts!" has a directory of over seven hundred USA-specific model railroad clubs looking for new members, of all ages and genders. I thought it was more of a basement activity – I did not realize that clubs can be huge – up to a hundred members, in some cases – or that there were model railroad attractions such as Minatur Wunderland in Germany, which has over 39,000 feet of track. Something drove me to check out the model train show, however, and when I was there, something about the passion enthusiasts have for trains, and the camaraderie that people involved in model train clubs share, bit me. Since then, I have driven out to the Kalamazoo Model Railroad Historical Society four times, to find out more about how model railroads work and, more importantly, to get a read on the dynamic of the members of the society. On my last visit, several of the members started making noise about me applying to join the Society.
The Kalamazoo Model Railroad Historical Society is a one-stop shop for model train enthusiasts, with a respectably-sized railroad and a comprehensive library with shelves full of books and movies on the history of both model railroads and actual railroads, and full collections of Trains, Model Railroader, and Railroad Model Craftsman magazines. It is also really difficult to find – fitting, perhaps, for such a socially-hidden hobby. Located on Riverview Drive, to the north and east of Kalamazoo proper, reaching it involves driving through the small town of Parchment, Michigan, past neighborhoods and an airfield where stunt planes fly in twice a year, to a blink-and-you'll-miss-it driveway located in the middle of a sharp bend in the road. The first time I drove out to KMRHS, I missed it once. The third time I drove out, I missed it twice.
The driveway is long, marked only by a wooden contraption reminiscent of a hanging tree with a hand-lettered sign on top reading simply "KMRHS." The building at the end is unassuming, save for the large red caboose parked just outside, behind a transplanted Railroad Crossing warning post. This building has been the home of the Society since 1971, when the Kalamazoo Model Railroading Club moved out of its 20-year home in founding member Maury Highler's basement. Inside the main entrance is a true work of art: just over 212 feet of track laid out in a 20 feet by 40 feet area. There are tunnels and mountains, cities and shipping yards. Every bit of the scenery is accurate up to the year 1960 – hence the historical in the title of this organization – and all the trains are connected to a digital command center that helps coordinate everything. There are multiple towns, stations, and yards scattered about the layout, and during operating sessions, up to seven trains can run at once. Model train fall under a number of various scaled-down versions of real-life trains ranging from the model trains used to transport people around zoos to complex layouts that can fit inside a briefcase; the trains used at KMRHS are on the popular HO scale, meaning that every inch of track on this layout represents 87 inches, or just over seven feet, of actual real-life trains.
Scattered around the layout are examples of the sense of humor of scenery-building Society members: tiny little scenes, almost like the Easter eggs found in many computer games and DVD menus. Visitors are encouraged to take a slip of paper from a stack sitting by the wall. Each paper has a blurb reading "The Cooper Park & Eastern is filled with 'mini-scenes'. How many of these can you find? Some of them will take a bit of detective work, but all are in plain sight," followed by a randomized list of ten possible scenes, including the favorite of many members, "The 'Bare' Hunter," a scene where a bear is standing by a hunter squatting over a log with his pants down, and my personal favorite, "Movie Set," where a crowd of people surrounds a Marilyn Monroe figurine – skirt, of course, flying up – standing next to a pink Cadillac.
Mark Tomlonson, chief engineer for WMUK during the day and treasurer for KMRHS at night, is a lifelong enthusiast. When I ask him how he became interested in model trains, he says, "No idea. I, you know, I – the very first house I lived in, up to the age of 2 and a half, was just a couple hundred yards from a railroad track, and I think that might have something to do with it. But I have no idea what it's like to look at a train and not be interested in it." Later, I will ask if his family has any factor in his interest, and he will tell me that his "dad was interested in helping me, but he wasn't interested with trains." Mark joined the Society after the Battle Creek Jazz Ensemble imploded and freed up his Monday evenings.
Bill Geresy, an air force veteran with long grey hair and big glasses, has also been interested in trains since his "parents bought me a train set when I was a little little kid." A member of multiple model train clubs in other locations prior to living in Kalamazoo, his enthusiasm extended to actually working on the railroad "down in PawPaw" for five years, working the "whole package – I could work any job on any train" from freight to passenger to dinner trains. He joined the Society in 1985 and has been a member – save for a period of time when he was called up for National Guard duty – ever since.
This lifelong fascination with trains, though apparently the norm – these two men and David Hayes-Moats, the heavyset dark-haired president of the club, all have it. David tells me that he's "always liked trains." Even though he's had periods in his life where he has not been actively involved in model railroading, the fascination has lingered. The same seems to be true of the club's youngest member, a 15-year-old boy who has taken the narrow-gauge track on the layout on as his personal project and completed it, now running that track exclusively during operating sessions. He's been a member for several years, apparently, and is passionate and dedicated, though unfortunately could not be reached for comment.
Russ Barr, wide-grinned webmaster whose hair is in the process of turning from sandy to grey, sits down with us after he finishes painting scenery behind the track that runs through the bathroom. His story is different – although "I had a train set when I was a kid, managed to destroy it pretty good," he didn't really become interested in trains "until my wife dragged me to a hobby show, said I didn't have enough hobbies. I disagreed, but I kind of liked the challenge and a couple of the guys I met – we were really comfortable to talk to, so I built a small layout and joined the club, then abandoned the small layout because I've got a big one here."
However people come to model railroads, the hobby demands a lot of commitment once they become involved. "The most expensive part of model railroading is the time," Mark tells me. Although good HO cars cost about $50 each, with locomotives at around $100, it takes hours to keep trains going. The society has 37 regular members, ranging in age from 15 to 93; the average member puts in at least five hours a week, making sure the track is clean enough, that the electrical wiring is in order, painting cars, making sure the engines are running right, and setting up operating sessions, where a lot of members come together to run the trains based on a set schedule. Every month, the Kalamazoo Model Railroad Historical Society has five set work sessions for maintenance, one business meeting, and two operating sessions.
The operating sessions, which Russ describes as " like a computer game, but in 3D, and not as fast," are very regimented. Trains are set to run on a schedule, departing certain stations at certain times, picking up and dropping off "loads," like flour, at various train yards and in various cities. Some people man the train yards, switching cars and sending trains out at certain times. Some man specific trains, running them from one station and town to the next. One person is always the dispatcher, telling others when they are permitted to go and helping make sure that there are no collisions between trains. Each member possesses a small, leather-bound rulebook with some hundred-odd rules that detail what exactly proper behavior is, for every conceivable manifestation of model railway usage. These rules range what things train operators can say during an operating session (and how that changes if there are observers who are not members in the society) to which cars can be historically accurately hooked up to which engines and the preferred electrical wiring configurations of the track. The first rule in the book is that model railroads should be fun, and that everyone is to ensure that the experience remains fun. And members do, though God forbid anyone not start their train on time or run it at the appropriate speed and thus throw off the timing of the maneuvers within each session.
Still, during our interview, I get the same impression that I got the first time I stepped into the world of model railroading – that train show at the Kalamazoo Expo Center during the last week of October last fall where I first felt the attraction to this type of hobby: the point of this society is the sense of community that members get. New members have a probationary period (one member jokes that I've practically entered that period at this point, what with how many times I have visited, despite the fact that I have yet to run a single train) before they become full members of KMRHS, to make sure that they get along with everyone.
The system is imperfect – at the operating session I attended, there was a near-collision and two members got into an argument over how fast one member was running his train, and several comments that Russ makes about how long it takes to come to majority decisions in meetings give me the gut feeling that there is some tension within the ranks – but I do not get the impression that the glitches in the system are truly a problem. After all, as Mark tells me, "It's nice to pay the monthly dues just to have some place to go and talk about trains where people don't look at you funny."
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