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Rarely are we invited to know the where of a writer’s writing; not the stance or angle or point of view they take on their narrative, but rather, the physical space and time they occupy as they write. This, of course, is an integral facet of the writer’s craft – and perhaps art. Writers (or in this case, ethnographers) may write “winter wonderland” tales in summer, or pieces exploring the inner workings of mind while on an impressive, event-packed holiday. They may write with calm and ease while flying at 11,277 meters above the Tasman Sea in a jostling, raucous ride that tests the resolve of all who fly. They may end up taking notes at their chosen “site,” transcribing in cramped student quarters, and writing in between early-morning feedings. Does place (and, come to it, time) affect what they have to say? What they choose to write? How they – or we – interpret what “facts” or “data” or “evidences” they call to bear on their individual take of the “truth”?

We know that the lifespan of a human being is but a dot on eternity. Despite this fact, there are some lives who, by their very existence, have generated a better world, a curiosity that is gentle and nonobtrusive, welcoming, and generous. As Walter Pater (1873) wrote, “to burn always with this hard, gem-like flame, to maintain this ecstasy, is success in life” (p. 1326). These lives, coming into being, may, through their relationship with others, with the physical world, with the world of ideas, create pathways on which others following may flourish. Such a hard, gemlike life, I posit respectfully, is the life of Norman Denzin. As an invited offering for this Festschrift in celebration of the intellectual genius, the caring impact, the kind and generous humanity of NKD, this piece draws upon the effect(s) his career and example have had upon my immediate circle of scholars as well as upon academia writ large. As an aspect of his unfailing curiosity and humility, Norman has shown us – characteristically, not told, but shown – what it means to celebrate life when, after all, as Raymond Carver so famously put it, it's “all gravy” (1989, p. 118).

David L. Altheide, Ph.D., is Emeritus Regents’ Professor of the Faculty of Justice and Social Inquiry in the School of Social Transformation at Arizona State University, where he taught for 36 years. His work has focused on the role of mass media and information technology in social control. His most recent books are Qualitative media analysis (2nd ed., Sage, 2012) and Terror post 9/11 and the media (Lang, 2009). Altheide received the Cooley Award three times, given to the outstanding book in symbolic interaction, from the Society for the Study of Symbolic Interaction: In 2007 for Terrorism and the politics of fear (2006); in 2004 for Creating fear: News and the construction of crisis (2002); and in 1986 for Media power (1985). Altheide received the 2005 George Herbert Mead Award for lifetime contributions from the Society for the Study of Symbolic Interaction, and the society’s Mentor Achievement Award in 2007.

In this chapter, we assume the following: (1) the root cause of most organizational problems is culture and leadership, (2) executives seldom want to deal with these root causes, (3) because life is uncertain, organizational change is an emergent process, (4) most change processes unfold by reconstructing social reality, (5) the change process is inherently relational, (6) effective change efforts are enhanced by increasing the virtue of the actors, (7) change is embedded in the learning that flows from high-quality relationships, and (8) change agents may have to transcend conventional, economic exchange norms in order to demonstrate integrity and to build trust and openness. Drawing on the field of positive organizational scholarship, we focus on the change agent. We review the literature on self-change and offer several paths for becoming a positive leader.