A few days ago, however, I received notice that I had been accepted into Santa Clara Law in the SF-San Jose area. When I found out, I was immediately frustrated–this was screwing up my certainty in my choice for the upcoming year. I had already turned down University of San Francisco’s acceptance due to a lower rank and no financial assistance, but Santa Clara’s offer was much more appealing…

DePaul’s tuition is $2,000 less per year than Santa Clara’s, and DePaul is offering a scholarship that is $5,000 more than Santa Clara’s, and it is renewable as long as I maintain a 2.3 GPA. Santa Clara’s scholarship is still significant, and it is renewable likely only if I am in the top 15-20% of my class. The scholarship is less guaranteed than DePaul’s, but it may provide an additional incentive towards higher performance.

Very high on my list of priorities are the employment prospects in California. I want to live in California as my permanent residence. Santa Clara and DePaul both have fantastic regional hiring rates. Santa Clara is great for California; DePaul has an extremely strong Chicago network. Santa Clara wouldn’t help me find legal work in Chicago, and DePaul wouldn’t put me in a position to find legal work in California.

Santa Clara has an average starting salary of $114,000; DePaul’s is in the mid $70,000s. Granted, the cost of living is slightly higher in California and the difference is probably due in part to the predominance of Santa Clara grads entering high tech or IP law, which generally carry higher starting salaries.

DePaul and Santa Clara are tied for #84 in the USNews rankings. Both have strong Intellectual Property programs (a field I am very interested in)–Santa Clara’s, however, is ranked #8 in the nation. DePaul also has a strong curriculum in Healthcare law, another potential field I’m interested in.

One of the biggest questions on my mind, however, is what happens to my involvement with Probity? Law school in general will afford me much less time than did my previous job. If I go to Santa Clara, I wouldn’t be able to attend many (if any) events in person–distance would certainly affect involvement. I would likely be able to do work remotely (I would certainly like to), but it would definitely cause a disconnect. If I go to DePaul, I would be able to be physically present for a fair number of Probity/Code Academy events, but I would have to make sure I was focusing on keeping my grades high. I want to be involved with Probity, but at the same time, I don’t want to sacrifice my ability to eventually work from and live in California. I think that learning in the heart of Silicon Valley could be very useful and applicable to Probity’s work, but I’m not sure how difficult I’m going to find it to maintain my work remotely.

Cost of living will be somewhat higher in Santa Clara than it would be in Chicago, and I would have to reestablish myself in a new environment. I don’t have as complete a network in Northern California as I do in Chicago. This could be detrimental, but it could potentially give me an opportunity to grow as I take the lessons learned from my first trip into the unknown (moving to Chicago for undergrad), and apply them towards developing a similarly strong network in Santa Clara. I think the exercise could be really good for me, but at the same time, it’s a daunting concept.

I’m still doing more research into both schools, but I haven’t made a final decision yet. Any thoughts on what other things I should consider?

I’ve always been proud of how I was raised in a home where we learned to do things ourselves. Cooking was by far the norm (rarely would we go out to eat), and we harvested a fair bit of our own produce and fruits. My mom made some clothes for herself and for my brother and I. We had a pool that we maintained ourselves, from checking chemicals to filter maintenance. A fair amount of our furniture at home was made by my dad and my grandfather.

The lifestyle was similar with the “hippy-esque” aura of Humboldt, where Jesse lives and goes to school. There’s a vibrant community of people who do make things themselves, for environmental reasons and simple pride in their craft. Locals support each other, from rabbit-hair clothing to local musicians to microbreweries.

In Chicago, I hadn’t found that as much. I felt odd for my desire to cook on my own, to build furniture myself, to hack together my own Halloween costumes; it was far from the norm.

That lonesome feeling changed with the introduction to the development community in Chicago. Home-baked bread with Corey Haines and Sarah Gray, making one’s own bratwurst (with homebrewed beer) with Eric Meyer… The light in the eyes of those three as they shared what they had created was something special, the likes of which I hadn’t seen often since coming to the midwest. It was the simple pride doing something oneself. The intrinsic value of DIY. It’s exciting. And makes me all the more eager to see where we can take Code Academy, to see if we really can create a institution for creating Makers, people who similarly see the value in taking matters into their own hands, valuing what they have done themselves.

This morning, I missed my alarm at 6am and woke up at 7:22am, missing my opportunity to finish two of my tasks that I needed to complete by our 7:30am daily call. I commented on the tasks, explaining why I had failed to complete them. When I was on our morning call, I was told I was being docked two levels for failure to complete two tasks. “Wait, no, if you comment on a task giving the reason for its incomplete status, then that’s only half a level,” I retorted. The rule had been changed at some point in the past, but hadn’t been documented anywhere in writing (the rest of the rules are on DoFiveThings.com ). This quickly escalated into an argument over whether the rule was or should be enforced as a half point or a full point…

After six or seven minutes of going back and forth (as I was thinking, Is this really worth it? Should I just quit doing the FiveThings Daily Check-in?), Mike chipped in. “PD, I know if I were in your situation, I’d be frustrated by not being sure about what the rule was, but I’d just accept the d*mn point.” I froze for a moment on the phone as I realized my temperament. I could feel the choleric humours tensing my entire body; I paused, took a deep breath, and realized that Mike was absolutely right. I was letting a petty argument taint my perception of the broader vision of Probity. My knee-jerk reaction to the consequence was granting admission to a vile poison into my perfect garden. The consequences, yes, are extreme. They are difficult, constantly looming, and onerous. And they are completely unforgiving. But they are there to help us improve. We created them the way we did so that we would force ourselves not to compromise in our self-improvement.

And above all, we are doing this because we are passionate about Probity’s vision. We have a shared set of values and goals which we pursue together for our complementary skills and communal fervor. Getting worked up over something petty and losing sight of the greater picture simply is not worth it.

To close with a relevant image… in the words of Reddit, “This is quite possibly the simplest and most Zen flowchart I’ve ever seen.”

The first two occasions dealt with Probity and the Code Academy. Last week, I had selfishly suggested that our pilot test for the Code Academy be held during evenings so that I might still be able to participate while attending law school this fall. Although I later realized (with Neal’s helpful nudging in the right direction) that I was acting out of self-interest rather than considering what was best for the program. So, when a few days later, I had a couple of suggestions to make about improving Code Academy, I realized I approached them in the exact same way that I had been approaching my argument to have our courses take place during the evenings… Even though my track record says otherwise, the combination of facts that I had recently been found guilty of putting my personal desires ahead of the program needs and that I was approaching the issue with an I-know-what’s-best-we-should-do-this-immediately attitude made me come across completely selfish. My inconsistency in motives led to a mistaken notion of what to expect from me, which ended up damaging my ability to suggest new ideas.

After being repeated twice with Probity, I managed to have a much more positive (and reinforcing!) experience with expectations later this week. I was leading my last [*sniff*] SafeRide-wide quarterly meeting, and although I was running about 5 minutes late to the meeting, I made sure to open the meeting by committing to getting everyone out of the meeting within 50 minutes (SafeRide meetings have had a history of dragging on at times). I made sure to prepare the complete agenda early, and made sure to clearly drive the meeting towards its stated goals quickly, clearly, and efficiently. When we finished at 45 minutes, as people left the meeting, no fewer than four people came up to me and mentioned something along the lines of, “Wow, this was one of the best (and most efficient) SafeRide meetings yet.” (Figures that I’d just start to get good at it at the end.) I think I can attribute the positive response not only to preparedness and speed, but also to clearly announcing a high expectation, and subsequently exceeding it.

In other words, what I learned this week: By failing to be consistent, I lower expectations and thus weaken my ability to effect positive change; by setting fair expectations and meeting (or exceeding!) them, I strengthen my position and bolster the positive responses I receive from people.

This week, Maggie and I spent a couple hours brainstorming what needed to happen to actualize our Probity idea of a code academy. When Neal spoke to us later in the meeting, Maggie mentioned something to Neal about “turning on campaign mode” (The first time the three of us worked together was on Neal’s ASG Presidential campaign in Spring 2008). Neal’s demeanor, which had seemed slightly distracted previously, turned instantly serious.

“Got it. Campaign mode. I get it. I know what to do.”

Listening to Neal on the phone, I raised my eyebrows as Neal expressed his understanding. I was slightly skeptical. Little did I know that not only would Neal go into beast mode, but something would change internally with me, too.

Without any extra effort, I have found myself driven to perform, even when it’s not expected. We have a team meeting, and I am told we have an hour of free time. Instead of napping, I find myself working on our workplan. Whereas I normally am adamant about getting at least seven hours of sleep a night, I find my mind racing throughout the night such that I can’t stop working on our code academy. I have a burning excitement inside of me that I had no idea existed. It’s tapping an undiscovered well of potential where I am not struggling to do work, but have trouble taking myself away from it. In social situations where people have no interest in what I’m doing, I find myself talking about it, find myself drawn to continuing my work over continuing my conversation. It’s baffling me where this came from, and although I’m tremendously curious and hopeful that this remains permanent, more than anything else at this point, I’m just riding the wave of fury, doing what needs to be done and more. Every day, all night, all day. Code Academy, we’re coming.

“It’s Paul DAVID. Both words are his first name.”

There are two stories I’ve grown up with on how I ended up with Paul David. First, that because my mom was from Texas, she wanted to do the dual first name thing. Often when it’s done in that area, SOP is using two syllables in the first name, one in the second, à la Billy Bob or Mary Jane or Billy Joe or Betty Sue. But my dad was from California; he wanted to switch it around a little, so I ended up with Paul David.

The other story was simply one of logic–my parents wanted something unique, but easy to spell. (Easy to spell, yes; easy to explain, not so much.) I imagine both explanations have at least some element of truth to them.

Probity has a lot of the same elements to it. A personal connection to our cause. Integrity to the highest values and principles. Neal, in particular, has had a gravitation towards the word for several years now. But also something unique, yet easy to spell. Not many people use the word “probity” (then again, it’s popularity may be limited by it’s closeness to the word “probe”. But we probe for truth, so I find it still applicable).

Either way, although one I’ve grown up with my entire life and the other I’ve been introduced to only a couple of years ago, they’ve both grown very close to my heart. I love my name, and Probity is perfect for our organization, our culture. I wouldn’t give them up for anything.

I’ve realized that while my working efficiency has increased tenfold and more, my non-working efficiency has been completely stagnant. I believe that, in order to really begin to recognize my full potential, I have to engage myself in a plan of Total Efficiency. In other words, I need to exercise and maintain my efficiency not only in the work that I’m doing, but also in all the other aspects of my life. And I’m talking ALL the other aspects. Everything from calling friends to exercising to waking up to speaking to going to the bathroom to playing games to surfing the internet to showering. I can apply the same techniques that I’ve been practicing for productivity in my work to my recreational and personal development time. That way, rather than simply setting aside time to work and for the rest of the day let time fly by, I can be more effective with ALL of my time. If I maintain that cognizance, I believe I can be more productive and efficient in general. Plus, I’ll be able to accomplish things that I’ve been putting off, rather than just applying the bare minimum of time to my work each day. Heck, I think it might actually even make me be able to have more effective personal development, and have more densely recreational free time.

There are two elements to totalefficiency: applying the general productivity techniques (i.e. timeboxing, scheduling and tracking my time, 100% focus during that time, and sharing my activities with others for accountability) and evaluating how I can be more efficient with each “task” I do.

I’ll close with some examples:

Calling friends: Although I may not want to “limit” my time in this category, thinking about the time I am spending and being cognizant of my efficiency will make me less passive on the phone. Actively participate in the conversation, and identify what the goals are prior to the conversation (e.g. thanking someone for help, asking for advice, sharing particular stories, catching up on their lives) to make sure I’m working towards those.
Exercising: Head in the game! I may be sleepy at 6:30am, but if I’m not dilly-dallying, then I’m not only getting in better shape, but also getting finished with my exercising sooner.
Waking up: Figure out a reasonable time to set an alarm. Get the sleep you need, and then wake up. Setting a second alarm to go off fifteen minutes after the first is okay, setting seven alarms every five minutes is not. Multiplying the alarms only achieves interrupted sleep and lateness.
Speaking: Get rid of the “um”s! I’ve been doing that for far too long. Say what you want to say, don’t waste your own time & effort and others’ time & ears with filler words. This will help make my speaking more clear and concise, hence more effective.
Going to the bathroom: Good god. Just focus on one thing at a time. 100% focus, no multitasking. Everything gets done faster.
Playing games: Set aside a certain amount of time. Figure out what games to play, or what you want to accomplish. Instead of screwing around not actually playing the game you want to play, just get it done with and do it. No need to waste more time working up to it.
Surfing the internet: Ditto. Set a time, and set goals.
Showering: Focus! Set aside enough time to shower effectively, but maintain focus throughout so I don’t find myself mind wandering while I stand there, soaking.

If I can upgrade the level of effectiveness I have with my free time, I’ll be well on my way towards accomplishing more and getting much closer to Total Efficiency. Any other suggestions?

I think I am still trying to unpack everything that happened this week, but undeniably I find myself hurtling forward through these events, realizing that each event, singularly and in tandem with the others, is pressing our group forward at an increasingly breakneck speed. Yet even with barely time to look over my shoulder, I think that reflection, if only to recount what events transpired, gives me the opportunity to uncover and extract more value from my experiences.

In terms of my personal productivity, this week I accomplished all the tasks I had set out for myself. I completed them on time or early, and I felt great about the work that I have been doing. I started up programming once again, and although I’m still more than a few lengths behind the leader, I’m getting my chops back. Putting in a little bit every day is something I had struggled with in the past; I tended to rely on the last minute insane sprint instead of the long haul vision. I am finally making the proper strides to break that habit. Steady, reliable strides.

This week Probity took a trip up to the house of a businessman and periodic professor at Northwestern to get feedback on our projects and our aspirations. We found quickly that we had gotten more than we had bargained for–the man was extraordinarily perceptive to our team’s dynamic and our purpose with very little predication. I found value in his identification of our team as a rare breed of individuals who have not only passion and ambition to realize our aspirations, but as a collection of individuals who have each other. With complementary skills and an aligned goal, we can accomplish great things. He evaluated our team’s internal dynamic and interactions; I found his quick recognition and understanding of some of our internal relationships especially refreshing. Finally, he elucidated the most important thing we need to do going forward: to finish something. Without a completion under our belt, we will lose at least some of our momentum. In order to maintain our acceleration, we need to keep our focus, buckle down, and meet our goals to make our releases. A completion will cement our feet on the gas.

We considered a new problem this week. Learning to program is far from simple. We’re slowly realizing how difficult it is to become fluent in the languages of the browser. We’ve noticed that, although many have come to similar conclusions about how our society has been for years shifting away from being “Makers”, turning towards service-oriented professions, the accessibility to the tools of becoming a Maker is still extremely limited. We want to be able to not only open those doors for ourselves, but also have the wherewithal to prop the doors open for those who follow us. We may be in an advantageous position to do that; I’m not entirely sure how we would do it, but it’s a cause well worth considering.

And finally, as the capstone to the week, we hosted our first true Probity Salon. Neal Sales-Griffin and Zach Damato took the lead in bringing together a group of fantastically skilled individuals with whom we were able to spend the evening. Although the evening was relatively unstructured for the majority of the time, when we (and by “we”, I mean everyone in attendance) spent the last couple hours doing in-depth introductions to the each other in front of the whole group, I realized exactly how skilled each person there was. How thoughtful each was. And although there was at times lack of understanding between the wide variety of skills in attendance, there was complete understanding among the people there. The Salon felt like and was a true nexus of innovation.

So we hurtle forward this week once more. Continue to chug, working every day towards something better. I’m excited.

Great-grandpa was in his youth when he decided to emigrate from Mexico to the United States.  He hopped on a train (the story was always happily ambiguous as to whether he was a stowaway or verified passenger) heading north to the USA.  Halfway there, his train was stopped by none other than Pancho Villa, the notorious Mexican Revolutionary general for resupply.  Great-grandpa, being an industrious and capable young man, brought out his coronet and was recruited by the man himself to be Pancho Villa’s trumpeter.  After traveling with his mobile army for a few days, great-grandpa bid his farewell, and continued on to the United States.

Once in the U.S., great-grandpa found himself in need of work.  As a young Mexican immigrant, he found himself first washing dishes at a restaurant.  At the restaurant, great-grandpa watched the cooks make all manner of dishes and exciting foods.  He realized that he was missing out on the experiments of the taste buds, being creative and masterfully designing new combinations of food… And so, he taught himself to be a cook.  While other immigrants stayed in their static jobs, great-grandpa taught himself new trades and kept moving.  He became a cook, and enjoyed it immensely….except for the lack of human interaction.  As he made dishes to be brought out to the customers, he realized he was missing the human element, the stories that the waiters would come into the kitchen with during every shift.  So, deciding on his next challenge, great-grandpa became a server.  He loved interacting with his customers and talking with them to learn more about their lives and new opportunities in the world.

However, being a server permanently was not in the cards for great-grandpa.  One day, as he was performing his serving duties, he twisted his back quite uncomfortably, and was in severe pain as he tried to continue his work.  One of his customers came up to him, and identified himself as something he called a “chiropractor”.  Great-grandpa, always eager to learn about new ideas, allowed the chiropractor to take a look at his back.  After one adjustment, great-grandpa felt tremendously better… and so, of course, he decided to become a chiropractor.  He received his license, and practiced as a chiropractor for the rest of his working life.

Great-grandpa’s story reminds me a lot of something we’ve been talking about in Probity recently: the difference between finding solutions to existing problems and trying to find problems to fit existing “solutions”.  Many startups seem to have a “golden idea” which they try to be the first to bring to market.  Our approach is quite different; we identify problems in our own lives and the lives of others, then work to try to find the best solution to the aforementioned issue.  It leaves us with an open mind to really evaluate more possibilities.

Great-grandpa would definitely agree.  I’m realizing more and more that Probity’s someplace that I belong; it’s a constant pursuit of the best truth.  And as great-grandpa was always fond of saying, “Kno-wledge!  Kno-wledge is the key to life!”

I was taken aback the first time I was accused of being a “non-Christian”.  I had grown up going to services weekly, participating in youth groups, and staying active and involved with the United Methodist church that had been a tremendous part of my life since attending preschool there.  Yet here I was, being confronted by a girl my own age in early high school.  She started with a seemingly-innocuous, somewhat cryptic question:  ”Have you accepted Jesus into your heart?”

I paused.  What exactly does that even mean? I thought.  I could tell that this was a leading question, so rather than answer directly, I figured I should ask for clarification first.  She responded, “You have to invite Jesus into your heart to be a Christian.  If you don’t do that, you go to hell.”  I wasn’t buying it.  The Kool-Aid tasted funny.

“Wait a second, now I’ve always understood that God’s supposed to be a forgiving, magnanimous entity trying to get people to love one another.”  Not a big stick-wielding, threatening being that lords over (ha!) anyone who doesn’t take some sort of cryptic spiritual step to prove his/her belief in Him, I implied.

But the girl pressed on.  ”But if you haven’t accepted Jesus into your heart, how is God supposed to know whether or not you believe, whether or not to send you to heaven?”

I retorted, much to her chagrin:  ”I’m not sure I even believe in hell.  I mean, doesn’t eternal pain and suffering go against the whole message of love and forgiveness?  Seems like that would be a little contradictory to me.”

She wasn’t a particularly happy camper after that, and over the following years, I had many intense discussions with her and others about the merits of different theories of the nature and demeanor of God.  Maybe I missed the whole point (I’m sure some, including that particular girl, think I did), but the message I got from years of attending my hometown church was that we should strive to be our ideal selves in terms of goodness; that is to say, love one another, act with others in mind, and over all, forgive.  Principles of sharing indiscriminately.  Recognizing value in people regardless of background, race, condition.  That’s what Christianity’s about to me–that’s what I see as what Jesus, the prophets, and the disciples tried to teach.  So I’m skeptical when I see some people so caught up in the “practice” and mysticism of Christianity instead of focusing on acting it out in life.  I mean, the whole idea of evangelism, for one…  When I went to college, I found groups systematically trying to “harvest” new Christians by pulling them in with some sort of veiled threat of salvation (do it, or else!).  I rarely, if ever, share my faith directly unless asked or if it’s relevant to do so, but I know that by my actions people can see, regardless of whether they associate it with Christianity or not, the value system by which I abide, the moral fiber and refusal to sink to a level of personal promotion in lieu of others’ well-being.

In other words, I’ve certainly strayed from the popular path.  I haven’t, nor do I ever want to, get caught up in the practice and mysticism of Christianity (or any religion, for that matter)–I’ll stick to the application of it, the lessons that religious figures tried to teach.

There’s a movie, based on a book by Jerome Bixby, called The Man from Earth.  It considers the idea of a man who claims to have lived through eons of human history, while several professors and experts in different fields debate his story.  When asked whether he had known anyone religiously significant during his time alive, the proverbial caveman, later in the movie, claims to have studied with the Buddha for an extended period, and several generations later, realizing the strife and hate present in his new surroundings, tried to reteach the lessons of the Buddha.  The room gradually comes to the realization that that this “caveman” is attempting to portray himself as Jesus, begrudgingly speaking about how people bought into a hype about rising from the dead much more than the actual teachings.  Teachings that were, for the most part, similar to any other religious path.  (I won’t go further into the movie, but needless to say, it’s an excellent watch and highly recommended.)

It’s an interesting concept to think about, and true in many respects.  Beyond their mystic and practice-riddled exteriors, many religions teach the same core values.  I rue how we end up enshrouding our values in such a curtain of dogma that we aren’t able to share them effectively.  I mean, I don’t care if you’re an atheist, an agnostic, any other religious follower, or you just don’t know, but there’s value in learning the lessons of loving one another.  It’s a travesty that we hide it so.  I believe humans have a need for a moral code, a set of virtues.  Whether it’s a tribal agreement not to kill one another, or a Socratic discourse on the virtues of supporting a community over self-aggrandizement, or the same lessons of Buddhism, Islam, Judaism, or Christianity, we have a long history of trying to find some sort of moral code.  And regardless of what the “right answer” is, whether we’re supposed to be worshipping one God or kissing idols of another, I think the most important and reasonable thing is to take what we can agree on–a philosophy of love rather than hate, and share that with the world.  Talk about it.  It’s good learning for the non-religious and the religious alike.  And if God wants to send me to hell for caring about others and trying to promote love, then I don’t want to be in heaven.