Motivation to Work

I remember meeting a graduate student in urban studies from SDSU a few weeks ago. She had recently graduated from UCSD and was particularly interested in regional agriculture--the type of communal farming that takes place within urbanized areas. Hence, she spent the summer working for a local grassroots organization called Project New Village, and this is how we had a chance to meet.

During the course of our meeting, she spoke quietly and infrequently. But when she spoke she kept the attention of her listeners with quipped humor and a charming quiescent aura. I was struck by her humility, calm, and most of all, her firm attachment to the local neighborhoods. It was an unlikely devotion. She looked very young, probably in her mid-twenties (unmarried), yet she told me that she had already purchased a house in the area. For a moment, I was taken aback by the statement. For, it seemed appropriate that anyone who was university-educated and advancing upward in society should decide to move precisely outside of the blighted neighborhoods of Southeast San Diego. The reasons are plentiful; crime and vandalism alone should deter one from moving into the neighborhood. Yet she was doing exactly the opposite.

I didn't get much of a chance to probe her with questions, and when she walked into the main office I volunteered to help her with her garden project. It was a feeble attempt to initiate a brief conversation. Or to get her contact information.

I contemplated my job after she left. So here I was working at a redevelopment agency, the stated mission to revitalize in any possible way the poorest and lowest-income neighborhoods of San Diego. A lofty goal, with very few economic or sociological parameters to judge actual progress. And yet it dawned on me that nobody in the office had a personal connection to the land. Most commuted here from different parts of the San Diego. I did, too. And we should come to work, and leave work, and repeat, without the slightest hint of intention to stop by the local grocery store or market. The neighborhood itself was inaccessible to me, and it appeared no less cold or distant to the others in the office...

I am not here to rebuke the intentions of the people that work at SEDC. Instead, I wish to address a larger, more macroscopic and sociologically-oriented question, and one that simply asks: what motivates us to work? 

Besides the fact I do not posses any wealth of knowledge of this topic (i.e. leadership, motivational development, etc), I can safely presume that having a personal stake in the end-product motivates someone to work far more effectively than a simple monetary reward. This principle works on many levels: an army motivated by common purpose can achieve more than one of mercenaries; a real-estate agent with stake in his or her sales will more aggressively seeking potential buyers; a taxi-driver will make rounds faster for a quicker turn-around. Incentive lies at the heart of all business endeavors.

But when I met this young lady, I noticed that something else entirely motivated her line of work. It wasn't money, for sure, but it wasn't empathy either. Motivation by empathy is seen by the doctor who spends four months of a year working in the Haitian countryside handing out vaccines for TB and charging nothing in the process. The reward is self-fulfillment and the pursuit of higher, more righteous acts. With her, it was the sentimental attachment to a piece of land she held dear. For what reason I could not identify simply. 

And it appears, to me, that form of motivation affects the quality of work one produces. One is also liable to a higher degree of caution, awareness, accountability, and sincerity--because of there is something personal at stake. 

I wish to seek out this girl, ask her some questions about her new home, and find out why she is motivated to do what she does. It is indeed somewhat rare these days to meet someone who doesn't have any intention to imitate the replica-model of success that society demands (wealth, academic achievement, etc...)

-Matt

The" Corner Grocery Store"

The other day, I read an article about poverty in America (http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/05/17/AR2009051702053.html). It concluded something profound, in that poor people end up staying poor because they are essentially "trapped" in a state of poverty. In one example, they mention that poor people often do not have cars, or cannot afford the high cost of gasoline, so they are unable to shop at mass retail outlets such as Costco or Savemart. They purchase the bulk of their daily goods--shampoo or groceries--at the corner grocery store down the street.

Today, I walked into one.

It was located somewhere between 40th and 43rd Market St. I had been taking photos of a construction site, and I figured why not, better now than never to explore the region. Before I got to the store, I saw a funeral procession taking place outside a church. It was strangely distant.

The shop was an immensely cramped space. I don't recall exactly what items were being sold, but there was this glass container which had for sale some used cell phones. This, mind you, was a convenient store to size of an average room. But it had the peculiar quality of being a center of all goods, a miniature Walmart.

I will go back this afternoon to investigate some more details. However, here are some pictures of the shop, and the price of the cheese (which is definitely not cheap).