Context & Poetry that any Mother Could Love
By suncpo on Apr 21, 2008
A short poem for you:
In the winter the trees sway.
The cold, icy ground is hard and crunchy.
We play in the snow.
When we walk foot prints appear.
But when we see the snow melting we know it's Spring!
This is how it was actually drafted by Miss Thang (my little lady):
In the winter the trees swae.
The cold icy grawnd is herd and crunchy.
We play in the snoe.
Wen we wock foot prins apeer.
But wen we see the snoo melting we no it is Spring!
This lovely ode to Winter & Spring was accompanied by a picture split in half with a snowman waving from one side of the page under a gray sky to a barefoot girl walking on a flower strewn lawn under a blue sky & red sun.
The final contextual piece here is that Miss T wrote the poem & drew the picture in her bed late at night using her flashlight for her sister, Miss Sweet Cheeks' birthday.
The challenge and the allure of data protection is illustrated by this small information transaction. After first making a rather large assumption that one is communicating in English, obtaining access to the poem given the original searchable words can be a challenge-- not an insurmountable challenge as most of the decent search engines give alternative spelling choices.
Identifying the age and background of its author helps to further determine its credibility or at least how stringent or serious any judgment should be on its literary relevance.
Deciding to share the \*clear\* beginnings of artistic genius to the perhaps later in life chagrin of my Miss Thang was an easy choice.
Understanding the context of its creation and to whom it was written makes the retention schedule and security measures much higher for the original document... but only if you're me.
How we protect, what we protect, How long we protect & with whom we share are important lifecycle questions worthy of constant vigilance. I had this discussion with an IT architect this morning about a large mulitinational organization. Though significantly larger & more complex than my daughter's poetry, the steps we took to analyze his problem were not much different in theory than these.