This is an old soapbox for me, one I’ve written about it this venue before. But the events of last weekend and horrible, hateful loss of life brings it into focus again.
I’ve read or listened to politicians’ statements decrying the actions of Jared Lee Loughner – and I’m sure I missed more statements than I caught. What I wonder is whether any of those elected officials will comprehend that they also bear responsibility for fanning the fires of hate and incivility in this country.
It’s not that I believe that any of our elected public servants is happy that six people died and fourteen others have been injured – including one of their own. As the young man who appears to be responsible faces trial for his apparent crimes, I’m sure we’ll find many targets for our pointing fingers. I don’t expect elected officials to be among those targets. But, how does a twenty-two year old develop such an attitude of hate that he would open fire in a Safeway parking lot? I can’t imagine there’s a simple answer.
But I can and do believe that our country’s political climate which has steadily grown in hostility and venom had to play a contributing role. And it seems to me that’s something we can change. If we can muster the political will and discipline.
So I’m making a plea to my elected officials – and maybe you’ll extend the plea to your own. (Find their email addresses at www.usa.gov/Contact/Elected.shtml) I’ve despaired of getting this point across with enough volume to be heard. But now, with Gabrielle Giffords in critical condition, perhaps their hearing might be more acute. And if you were to add your voice, well, maybe my plea wouldn’t just be a cry in the wilderness.
This is what I want my elected officials – and yours – to hear.
It’s a simple request. Excise the word “fight” and all violent references – even if only symbolic – from your public and private discourse. Will that shift our savage political culture back toward mutual respect? Gosh, I don’t know. But what would it cost you to find out? Not a single blood-free dollar. And just imagine that maybe some susceptible kid might not get the idea that fighting is a reasonable approach to disappointment or disagreement. Just imagine that possibility.
I don’t need to tell you that words matter, do I? You, who have taken oaths to support and defend the Constitution, that you will bear true faith and allegiance to the same?
Defend, by all means. Argue all you want. Acknowledge disagreements. Then work it out - without fighting to justify your position. Work! That’s what we pay you for. We pay other people to do our fighting and we’re grateful for their sacrifices. You? We don’t pay you to fight and we’d really, really, really like it if you’d stop it – whether you’re trying to get elected or already in office. We pay you to lead.
So give it a chance, will you? Lead a verbal revolution and who knows what might happen? Maybe, just maybe a new era of civility in this country we love. And maybe my vote in your next election too. I’ll be listening.
Sally
Monday, January 10, 2011
Monday, October 26, 2009
Monday Moment - Paths Taken and Not
I had a rare – for me at least – experience last night, a chance to revisit my past. For twelve years early in my career, I served as a county-based 4-H professional, managing a children’s camp, working with teens and volunteers, planning non-formal learning for kids through 4-H Club experiences. It was rich and satisfying work that I anticipated I would do for the rest of my working life. I saw myself as a ‘lifer.’
One of the reasons I loved my work was the network of other 4-H professionals I became privileged to know. I came together with these folks at state and national conferences once a year and formed many deep friendships and even more closer-than-just-passing acquaintances. These people understood my life – and I understood theirs. We shared many values, and the stories we told had common themes to which we all could relate – which isn’t something our more geographically close friends and families could always say. And besides, these 4-H folk knew how to have fun! I loved going to state and national conferences!
Twelve years in, though, and I felt a need for change. Challenges remained in 4-H work, of course, but they weren’t challenges I’d ever choose for myself – major fundraising and capital building projects for camp, for instance. And new opportunities for me to affect healthy behavior changes enticed. I followed the new opportunities – but not without a few pangs. I knew I’d miss many things – including the fellowship of other 4-H professionals. Since that time – 20 years ago next March – I’ve become slightly re-connected with various short-term 4-H consulting projects, but never again immersed like I was in my early career. (A good thing because sometimes in the old days, I very nearly drowned in my work!)
Which brings us to last night’s experience. The National Association of Extension 4-H Educators – the professional organization that brought me so much fun and meaning – is meeting this week in Rochester, NY. Just 40 minutes from my home. When they asked for volunteers, how could I not step up? A chance to see some old friends, to hear and dance to a great band, and, as it turned out, to reflect on life’s paths – those taken and those not taken.
Well. It was fun! And it was weird! It was a Thomas Wolfe experience. Can one go home again? I’m still figuring that one out! Because in some ways, it did feel like home. And in others, it felt like I’d landed on an alien planet!
So interesting to observe the changes in myself. And in others! I anticipated there would be more people I didn’t know than people I did – and that expectation was accurate. Many folks I knew have retired, and younger folks have taken their place. I even expected to recognize some faces but not remember their names – and that they might reciprocate the feeling of “I think I know you, but...”
What I didn’t expect – or at least as much as it hit me in the face – was how much older so many people looked! From inside my head, I look much the same as I did twenty years ago (at least when fully clothed and except for the red hair my stylist and I have been having fun with in the last year.) Not so for some of my colleagues! Who were these people? These old people! All those glasses, all that gray hair – or none at all – all that extra girth! Odd though. Some folks didn’t seem to recognize me either. Huh. Could the years be telling on me as well? Surely not. Must be those folks need new glasses!
Aging issues aside (please) I couldn’t help reflecting on the paths I’ve chosen – and the paths chosen by former colleagues, paths that I might also have chosen had this or that circumstance in my life been different at the time. It was tempting to wonder – as the band played “We Are Family” and I wasn’t anymore – if I chose the best path for my life and what my life would be like if I had chosen differently lo these many years ago. I didn’t wonder long though, because, would I trade all the joys – or even the sorrows – or my last twenty years for that once-a-year feeling of family? Not a chance.
Choices I made in my career seem linked to choices I made in other arenas of my life – love, partnership, travel, personal growth, even kayaking and sailing – all precious beyond words to me. I’m glad I made the choices I made, glad for former colleagues who chose differently than I did, glad too for the jump start on reflection that last night’s experience gave me. No unexamined life for me!
On reflection, I can’t say mine has been the road less traveled, because who knows how many folks might have shared similar choices to change their path. I will say that mine has not been the road of least resistance, and that, certainly, has made all the difference.
My wish for you this week is for some impetus to jump start your own reflections and to find reason for gladness in the choices you’ve made along your own unique path!
One of the reasons I loved my work was the network of other 4-H professionals I became privileged to know. I came together with these folks at state and national conferences once a year and formed many deep friendships and even more closer-than-just-passing acquaintances. These people understood my life – and I understood theirs. We shared many values, and the stories we told had common themes to which we all could relate – which isn’t something our more geographically close friends and families could always say. And besides, these 4-H folk knew how to have fun! I loved going to state and national conferences!
Twelve years in, though, and I felt a need for change. Challenges remained in 4-H work, of course, but they weren’t challenges I’d ever choose for myself – major fundraising and capital building projects for camp, for instance. And new opportunities for me to affect healthy behavior changes enticed. I followed the new opportunities – but not without a few pangs. I knew I’d miss many things – including the fellowship of other 4-H professionals. Since that time – 20 years ago next March – I’ve become slightly re-connected with various short-term 4-H consulting projects, but never again immersed like I was in my early career. (A good thing because sometimes in the old days, I very nearly drowned in my work!)
Which brings us to last night’s experience. The National Association of Extension 4-H Educators – the professional organization that brought me so much fun and meaning – is meeting this week in Rochester, NY. Just 40 minutes from my home. When they asked for volunteers, how could I not step up? A chance to see some old friends, to hear and dance to a great band, and, as it turned out, to reflect on life’s paths – those taken and those not taken.
Well. It was fun! And it was weird! It was a Thomas Wolfe experience. Can one go home again? I’m still figuring that one out! Because in some ways, it did feel like home. And in others, it felt like I’d landed on an alien planet!
So interesting to observe the changes in myself. And in others! I anticipated there would be more people I didn’t know than people I did – and that expectation was accurate. Many folks I knew have retired, and younger folks have taken their place. I even expected to recognize some faces but not remember their names – and that they might reciprocate the feeling of “I think I know you, but...”
What I didn’t expect – or at least as much as it hit me in the face – was how much older so many people looked! From inside my head, I look much the same as I did twenty years ago (at least when fully clothed and except for the red hair my stylist and I have been having fun with in the last year.) Not so for some of my colleagues! Who were these people? These old people! All those glasses, all that gray hair – or none at all – all that extra girth! Odd though. Some folks didn’t seem to recognize me either. Huh. Could the years be telling on me as well? Surely not. Must be those folks need new glasses!
Aging issues aside (please) I couldn’t help reflecting on the paths I’ve chosen – and the paths chosen by former colleagues, paths that I might also have chosen had this or that circumstance in my life been different at the time. It was tempting to wonder – as the band played “We Are Family” and I wasn’t anymore – if I chose the best path for my life and what my life would be like if I had chosen differently lo these many years ago. I didn’t wonder long though, because, would I trade all the joys – or even the sorrows – or my last twenty years for that once-a-year feeling of family? Not a chance.
Choices I made in my career seem linked to choices I made in other arenas of my life – love, partnership, travel, personal growth, even kayaking and sailing – all precious beyond words to me. I’m glad I made the choices I made, glad for former colleagues who chose differently than I did, glad too for the jump start on reflection that last night’s experience gave me. No unexamined life for me!
On reflection, I can’t say mine has been the road less traveled, because who knows how many folks might have shared similar choices to change their path. I will say that mine has not been the road of least resistance, and that, certainly, has made all the difference.
My wish for you this week is for some impetus to jump start your own reflections and to find reason for gladness in the choices you’ve made along your own unique path!
Monday, September 14, 2009
Monday Moment - Savoring the Last's of Summer
Every year at this time I struggle with denial. I love summer and all the things one can do in the summer where I live. And it’s a wrench for me to admit that fall approaches. Leaves are dropping, somebody turned down the thermostat outside, days are getting shorter, and I’m still wearing sandals. Shivering sometimes, but wearing sandals just as long as I can stand it!
This year saying goodbye to summer seems especially poignant to me. Could be because we had unseasonably cool weather through July and it wasn’t until August that we really felt like summer arrived. Could be that I’ve really, really, really enjoyed the summer we had. This year, we sailed more than ever before – enough so we actually lost count of how many times we went out. And I loved, loved, loved it!
Maybe it’s denial talking, but I’m re-thinking that last sentence and deciding not to use past tense! I love, love, love sailing. And hope to do more of it before icy winds make it too unpleasant!
We’ve had some wonderful firsts with sailing this year. I’m pretty sure it’s the first time we ever sailed into September. First time we sailed 3 days in a row – on Labor Day weekend, just one week after that freak tornado made a mess of our club’s small stretch of lakefront. You wouldn’t believe the difference a week – and tons of work – made in that place!
First time we ever sailed at night and oh what a spectacular experience that was! Do you remember seeing the full moon the Friday of Labor Day Weekend? I hope it was as gorgeous where you were, but it might be hard for me to believe. There was just enough breeze to waft us and another half-dozen boats a mile or so down the lake and back while we watched the moon wax and daylight wane. Somebody aptly described the experience as ‘ghosting’ along on the water. White sails dim in the moonlight, quiet lapping of water on the bow, ghostly and glorious!
So with all those firsts in mind, I’m holding onto summer’s coat-tails with both hands, but with extreme awareness that regardless of what I do, time will do what time does. My resolve this month is to treat summer joys as if this might be the last time I’ll experience them in a while. Yesterday might have been our last sail of the season. Tonight might be our last cookout. And so forth. I actually doubt that either is the case. I certainly hope not. But if thinking it might be my last chance this year entices me to savor every second, well, maybe that’s not such a bad thing.
And that’s where I am on this mid-September evening. Savoring. Right down to my ever so slightly chilly toes!
May your week be filled with all things savory as well!
Sally
This year saying goodbye to summer seems especially poignant to me. Could be because we had unseasonably cool weather through July and it wasn’t until August that we really felt like summer arrived. Could be that I’ve really, really, really enjoyed the summer we had. This year, we sailed more than ever before – enough so we actually lost count of how many times we went out. And I loved, loved, loved it!
Maybe it’s denial talking, but I’m re-thinking that last sentence and deciding not to use past tense! I love, love, love sailing. And hope to do more of it before icy winds make it too unpleasant!
We’ve had some wonderful firsts with sailing this year. I’m pretty sure it’s the first time we ever sailed into September. First time we sailed 3 days in a row – on Labor Day weekend, just one week after that freak tornado made a mess of our club’s small stretch of lakefront. You wouldn’t believe the difference a week – and tons of work – made in that place!
First time we ever sailed at night and oh what a spectacular experience that was! Do you remember seeing the full moon the Friday of Labor Day Weekend? I hope it was as gorgeous where you were, but it might be hard for me to believe. There was just enough breeze to waft us and another half-dozen boats a mile or so down the lake and back while we watched the moon wax and daylight wane. Somebody aptly described the experience as ‘ghosting’ along on the water. White sails dim in the moonlight, quiet lapping of water on the bow, ghostly and glorious!
So with all those firsts in mind, I’m holding onto summer’s coat-tails with both hands, but with extreme awareness that regardless of what I do, time will do what time does. My resolve this month is to treat summer joys as if this might be the last time I’ll experience them in a while. Yesterday might have been our last sail of the season. Tonight might be our last cookout. And so forth. I actually doubt that either is the case. I certainly hope not. But if thinking it might be my last chance this year entices me to savor every second, well, maybe that’s not such a bad thing.
And that’s where I am on this mid-September evening. Savoring. Right down to my ever so slightly chilly toes!
May your week be filled with all things savory as well!
Sally
Monday, August 31, 2009
Monday Moment - Feeling Lucky
A freak of weather came through a half-mile swath along the west side of Canandaigua Lake on Saturday afternoon – the particular half-mile on which the Canandaigua Yacht Club sits. And whew baby, did that weather freak – now called an EF-1 tornado with winds of 90 mph – wreak damage!
Though the storm passed through early afternoon, we didn’t have a clue about it until we received an email from the Club Board about 10PM. Nor, apparently, did many people who live just beyond the tornado’s narrow path. We hopped in the truck and took a ride to see what we could see – knowing that we wouldn’t see much at all in the dark. But what the heck, it’s a five minute ride, and though we knew our little boat was insured (I had paid the bill that day at nearly the same time the tornado hit!) we were certainly curious to see how it weathered the storm.
As we drove out West Lake Road, we kept looking for power outages. But lights were on everywhere. In fact, we were within feet of the Yacht Club before we saw anything of note. But then what we saw sure did make us sit up and take notice. Trees were down, boats were piled up, the place was roped off and it was a mess!
A few members were on hand – partly still in awe of what had occurred there and partly to make sure that no one crossed into an area that might not be safe. What a wise move. We learned that no one had been hurt though three members had been present at the time and had harrowing tales to tell. But boats of well over a ton had rolled on their trailers – some into other boats – other boats had been blown off their trailers, and still others were swept into the lake. Two of about 25 boats moored in the club’s harbor actually sank. It all looked like a train wreck!
Still, our fellow members said that they were pretty sure our little boat came through okay. We’ve only been members for three years, we don’t know these folks well and they don’t know us, but still, they were pretty sure our boat was okay. Nice to know. We asked what we could do, and were told that until the club’s insurance adjuster came – scheduled for Monday - it was better to just stay away. We agreed and left them to their vigil.
The next morning, the club website informed us that the insurance adjuster had been there early Sunday morning (lots of calls from members convinced them to change their schedule) and all hands would be appreciated to help clean up. We actually had other plans, but felt compelled to change them and do our part.
It’s true that many hands make light work. And a lighter attitude that might have prevailed had any one of us had to face the clean up alone. By the time we arrived, helpful club members had already hoisted our boat back on its trailer – indeed darn-near unscathed. So Ray pitched in to help with other boats – many of the Club’s rather unique and hand-built Shark class catamarans that had been tossed into trees and were gouged beyond repair. Aware of my physical limitations, I started gathering downed branches into big brush piles. All this in a steady, dripping rain, but also amidst surprisingly good humor.
Within a couple hours, most of what could be done without heavy equipment had been done. So for the next couple hours, we stuck around offering meager emotional support to the owner of one of the boats that sank. We watched as a barge-crane arrived to lift his boat from its resting spot on the harbor bottom. The crane operators pumped water out as they lifted until it floated and looked – from a distance at least – as good as new.
About half way through the day, Ray reminded me of something I say – heard from a friend about a friend long ago. He said, “It’s all about the stories.” And there were stories aplenty – and will be for years to come from this little hurricane. Each boat-owner has a story about his/her boat, where it went in the wind, and how it came out. Neighbors who sustained damage to their homes have a story. The fellow who was there when the storm hit has a whale of a story. The officers of the club have a story, and each person who helped and was helped has a story too.
My own story is one of what I perceive to be amazing luck. Besides the amazing – and gratitude-inducing – luck that no one was hurt – not on the waterfront, and not in their homes, I feel lucky. The above picture will show you what I mean.
Though the storm passed through early afternoon, we didn’t have a clue about it until we received an email from the Club Board about 10PM. Nor, apparently, did many people who live just beyond the tornado’s narrow path. We hopped in the truck and took a ride to see what we could see – knowing that we wouldn’t see much at all in the dark. But what the heck, it’s a five minute ride, and though we knew our little boat was insured (I had paid the bill that day at nearly the same time the tornado hit!) we were certainly curious to see how it weathered the storm.
As we drove out West Lake Road, we kept looking for power outages. But lights were on everywhere. In fact, we were within feet of the Yacht Club before we saw anything of note. But then what we saw sure did make us sit up and take notice. Trees were down, boats were piled up, the place was roped off and it was a mess!
A few members were on hand – partly still in awe of what had occurred there and partly to make sure that no one crossed into an area that might not be safe. What a wise move. We learned that no one had been hurt though three members had been present at the time and had harrowing tales to tell. But boats of well over a ton had rolled on their trailers – some into other boats – other boats had been blown off their trailers, and still others were swept into the lake. Two of about 25 boats moored in the club’s harbor actually sank. It all looked like a train wreck!
Still, our fellow members said that they were pretty sure our little boat came through okay. We’ve only been members for three years, we don’t know these folks well and they don’t know us, but still, they were pretty sure our boat was okay. Nice to know. We asked what we could do, and were told that until the club’s insurance adjuster came – scheduled for Monday - it was better to just stay away. We agreed and left them to their vigil.
The next morning, the club website informed us that the insurance adjuster had been there early Sunday morning (lots of calls from members convinced them to change their schedule) and all hands would be appreciated to help clean up. We actually had other plans, but felt compelled to change them and do our part.
It’s true that many hands make light work. And a lighter attitude that might have prevailed had any one of us had to face the clean up alone. By the time we arrived, helpful club members had already hoisted our boat back on its trailer – indeed darn-near unscathed. So Ray pitched in to help with other boats – many of the Club’s rather unique and hand-built Shark class catamarans that had been tossed into trees and were gouged beyond repair. Aware of my physical limitations, I started gathering downed branches into big brush piles. All this in a steady, dripping rain, but also amidst surprisingly good humor.
Within a couple hours, most of what could be done without heavy equipment had been done. So for the next couple hours, we stuck around offering meager emotional support to the owner of one of the boats that sank. We watched as a barge-crane arrived to lift his boat from its resting spot on the harbor bottom. The crane operators pumped water out as they lifted until it floated and looked – from a distance at least – as good as new.
About half way through the day, Ray reminded me of something I say – heard from a friend about a friend long ago. He said, “It’s all about the stories.” And there were stories aplenty – and will be for years to come from this little hurricane. Each boat-owner has a story about his/her boat, where it went in the wind, and how it came out. Neighbors who sustained damage to their homes have a story. The fellow who was there when the storm hit has a whale of a story. The officers of the club have a story, and each person who helped and was helped has a story too.
My own story is one of what I perceive to be amazing luck. Besides the amazing – and gratitude-inducing – luck that no one was hurt – not on the waterfront, and not in their homes, I feel lucky. The above picture will show you what I mean.
Ours is the small yellow boat with the black mast, lying on its side – but not crushed by the four larger boats who started a domino that might easily have landed on us. Two of our nearest neighbors to the right each weigh about twice what our boat weighs. And two more behemoths that you can’t see in this picture weigh twice again that much. It remains to be seen whether any of these four that sheltered us can be salvaged. But our little yellow craft – which probably cost less than the deductible on the four larger boats – seems to have come through unscathed.
We never gave our boat a name. Couldn’t decide if a 14-footer really warranted a name to tell you the truth. That’s a question I’m not asking anymore. From now on, I’m calling our boat Lucky. As far as I’m concerned, she’s earned it!
It’s all about the stories. That’s my story – and Lucky’s – and we’re sticking to it!
Hope you have a lucky story to tell this week!
Sally
We never gave our boat a name. Couldn’t decide if a 14-footer really warranted a name to tell you the truth. That’s a question I’m not asking anymore. From now on, I’m calling our boat Lucky. As far as I’m concerned, she’s earned it!
It’s all about the stories. That’s my story – and Lucky’s – and we’re sticking to it!
Hope you have a lucky story to tell this week!
Sally
Monday, August 24, 2009
Monday Moment - Brave Harvest!
Far and away the most inspiring story I read this week is about Jose Hernandez, one of our astronauts heading up, up, and away in tomorrow’s shuttle launch. Have you heard this story?
Jose’s parents and four kids worked their way up from Mexico each spring, migrant farm workers who followed ripening crops in the fields. From the time he was six years old, Jose was out there from dawn to dusk, in the mud, dust, heat, picking vegetables for salad bars all over the United States. Every evening ended with the same message. Jose’s father turned to look at his four kids crowded into the back seat of the car and said, “This is your future if you don’t stay in school.”
There was the incentive for sure, but Jose’s parents didn’t stop there. They realized how moving from place to place made it more difficult for their kids to succeed in school, so they took risks, got green cards, settled in one community, and worked – really, really hard. As did their kids. Summers and weekends weren’t for sleeping in. Summers and weekends were for working in the fields, helping to support the family – with the same message at the end of every day, “This is your future if you don’t stay in school.”
All four kids did stay in school, and went on to earn college degrees. And now the family will gather to watch Jose Hernandez achieve the dream he formed as a child watching Apollo astronauts walking on the moon. Even with a master’s degree in electrical engineering, it took him twelve years to be accepted into the astronaut training program. This is a man who knows how to work and who knows the power of a really big dream!
Can you see why I felt inspired? There’s a song written and performed by Jana Stanfield that also inspires me. It asks the question, “What would I do today – if I were brave?” Jose has given me a new response to Jana’s question – I’ll think about what Jose Hernandez would do! And hopefully, I’ll do more than think! I’ll work!
What would you do today – if you were brave?
Wishing you a filled with inspiration, courage, and the satisfaction of hard work done well!
Sally
Jose’s parents and four kids worked their way up from Mexico each spring, migrant farm workers who followed ripening crops in the fields. From the time he was six years old, Jose was out there from dawn to dusk, in the mud, dust, heat, picking vegetables for salad bars all over the United States. Every evening ended with the same message. Jose’s father turned to look at his four kids crowded into the back seat of the car and said, “This is your future if you don’t stay in school.”
There was the incentive for sure, but Jose’s parents didn’t stop there. They realized how moving from place to place made it more difficult for their kids to succeed in school, so they took risks, got green cards, settled in one community, and worked – really, really hard. As did their kids. Summers and weekends weren’t for sleeping in. Summers and weekends were for working in the fields, helping to support the family – with the same message at the end of every day, “This is your future if you don’t stay in school.”
All four kids did stay in school, and went on to earn college degrees. And now the family will gather to watch Jose Hernandez achieve the dream he formed as a child watching Apollo astronauts walking on the moon. Even with a master’s degree in electrical engineering, it took him twelve years to be accepted into the astronaut training program. This is a man who knows how to work and who knows the power of a really big dream!
Can you see why I felt inspired? There’s a song written and performed by Jana Stanfield that also inspires me. It asks the question, “What would I do today – if I were brave?” Jose has given me a new response to Jana’s question – I’ll think about what Jose Hernandez would do! And hopefully, I’ll do more than think! I’ll work!
What would you do today – if you were brave?
Wishing you a filled with inspiration, courage, and the satisfaction of hard work done well!
Sally
Monday, August 17, 2009
Monday Moment - Community Cravings
I’m at home for most of this coming week with minimal obligations – and it feels terrific! It’s been a bit of a whirlwind! All good, but I do think I hear my hammock calling my name!
When I reflect back on my summer – so far because I am determined to enjoy every single drop of it yet to come – the word that comes most clearly to mind is community. I’ve experienced – albeit from the sidelines sometimes – varied communities in action this summer. Each community has been unique, but they all share certain characteristics – a common purpose and goal, mutual nurturing and care, the chance to forge memories that will last lifetimes and that often significantly alter the lives of community members. And FUN in capital letters!
I’ve visited eight 4-H Camps across New York State this summer – from Long Island to nearly the Thousand Islands, from the Catskills to the Finger Lakes and Western New York. Each time I found a community. Young staff members experiencing their first taste of awesome responsibility, campers away from home for the first time or returning again to a place they’ve learned to call home, rituals and routines that might baffle a visitor but make perfect sense to everyone there. Eight complete communities that shape lives.
Two weeks ago I was with my Executive Edge friends in Orlando where we facilitated a team-building program for student interns to the accounting firm Ernst & Young as we have for the last 13 years. We work really hard, long days – and it’s such interesting work with a wonderful client. But the real reason we go is to spend time with our own team! There are new people on our team every year, but the core has been together since the very beginning, and spending a week with my best friends that I see once a year is among the most special opportunities of my life! Think about it. Thirteen years! The changes we’ve seen in each other! I feel so privileged to be part of this extraordinary community – if only for one week a year!
In between my travels, I sang for the first time with the Finger Lakes Chorale this summer. We rehearsed every Tuesday evening from mid-June to mid-August in preparation for two concerts this past weekend. I’ve sung with groups before and am always struck by how the very act of breathing the same air and belting out the same lyrics brings a group of diverse people together. One hundred thirty people in this group – some who knew each other for years, others new like me – brought together just because we like to sing. Some of us will go to dinner at each others’ houses, but more will just see each other occasionally at the grocery store. Still, for the brief time we were together, we were community.
I believe that humans crave community and all the benefits that come from an interdependence on other humans. Could be why I sought out so many community experiences this summer. Certainly that need for community will be a big reason why I’ll think back so fondly of the summer of 2009! In fact, I believe I’ll go start that reverie right now – in my hammock!
What memories of this summer season will you hold precious?
May you experience the joys of community yourself in the coming week!
When I reflect back on my summer – so far because I am determined to enjoy every single drop of it yet to come – the word that comes most clearly to mind is community. I’ve experienced – albeit from the sidelines sometimes – varied communities in action this summer. Each community has been unique, but they all share certain characteristics – a common purpose and goal, mutual nurturing and care, the chance to forge memories that will last lifetimes and that often significantly alter the lives of community members. And FUN in capital letters!
I’ve visited eight 4-H Camps across New York State this summer – from Long Island to nearly the Thousand Islands, from the Catskills to the Finger Lakes and Western New York. Each time I found a community. Young staff members experiencing their first taste of awesome responsibility, campers away from home for the first time or returning again to a place they’ve learned to call home, rituals and routines that might baffle a visitor but make perfect sense to everyone there. Eight complete communities that shape lives.
Two weeks ago I was with my Executive Edge friends in Orlando where we facilitated a team-building program for student interns to the accounting firm Ernst & Young as we have for the last 13 years. We work really hard, long days – and it’s such interesting work with a wonderful client. But the real reason we go is to spend time with our own team! There are new people on our team every year, but the core has been together since the very beginning, and spending a week with my best friends that I see once a year is among the most special opportunities of my life! Think about it. Thirteen years! The changes we’ve seen in each other! I feel so privileged to be part of this extraordinary community – if only for one week a year!
In between my travels, I sang for the first time with the Finger Lakes Chorale this summer. We rehearsed every Tuesday evening from mid-June to mid-August in preparation for two concerts this past weekend. I’ve sung with groups before and am always struck by how the very act of breathing the same air and belting out the same lyrics brings a group of diverse people together. One hundred thirty people in this group – some who knew each other for years, others new like me – brought together just because we like to sing. Some of us will go to dinner at each others’ houses, but more will just see each other occasionally at the grocery store. Still, for the brief time we were together, we were community.
I believe that humans crave community and all the benefits that come from an interdependence on other humans. Could be why I sought out so many community experiences this summer. Certainly that need for community will be a big reason why I’ll think back so fondly of the summer of 2009! In fact, I believe I’ll go start that reverie right now – in my hammock!
What memories of this summer season will you hold precious?
May you experience the joys of community yourself in the coming week!
Monday, July 6, 2009
Monday Moment - Make Room For Spontaneity
I spent three days last week with teens and their adult partners who were learning to teach nutrition and fitness to younger children in after-school settings. Each day included lessons for the teens and adults, opportunities for participants to practice teaching one another, games and healthy snacks. My role was mostly to liven up the training with active games – while teaching the group games that they can lead with children. Boy did we have fun!
I have a fairly extensive list of favorite games – gathered over the span of my career working with adults and children, but I don’t mind admitting that this program challenged me. It seemed like every time we turned around, I needed to come up with not just one game, but two or three. Beyond the sheer quantity of games, I wanted to be sure the games I chose were truly active. No kick ball where one person runs and the rest wait their turn. No games where someone gets out and then sits on the sidelines. No indeed. We wanted to model and teach games that encourage everyone – regardless of their athletic ability or fitness level – to play actively.
I was scrambling to keep up, to always have a game ready that would excite, energize, and inspire our group to play more actively with the kids they’ll be teaching. I’d brought all the resources I’ve relied on lo these many years – except those that were lent out and went missing from my collection. And I dipped into a wonderful new resource called CATCH Kids Club Activity box (available from Flaghouse.com) that had just the kind of games we wanted to demonstrate. And still I was scrambling.
And then, serendipity stepped in. It was mid-afternoon. I was tired. I wanted more than anything else to lie on the floor with my feet up in the air. Without a real plan, that’s what I did. I invited the teens to join me in a circle with our heads together, and tossed a couple beach balls in the air. Our task – to keep the balls in the air with our hands or our feet. Who knew that could be so fun? Our group mastered that task so well, I wondered aloud if we thought we might be able to handle the larger and heavier exercise ball I had brought along. Yeah! And the fun quotient leaped! Adults got in the game batting the ball back to our circle, and the giggles escalated every time someone made contact. It was like each hit or kick of the ball was a surprise – a funny, exciting surprise! When it was time to stop playing and move on to the next topic, none of us wanted to quit!
I’m thinking there’s a lesson in this experience. When I prepare well, when I draw on all my resources, I shouldn’t forget the spontaneous possibilities, the kind that bubble up almost of their own accord. I ought to let myself set up a situation and say, “I wonder what would happen if we …?” I can’t give up the preparation or the digging through resources, because that’s what gives me the confidence to be spontaneous. But I will remember to let some unexpected fun bubble up from wherever that well of inspiration resides. Because although we enjoyed playing all different kinds of games, the one we’ll all remember the longest and the most happily is the one with the big blue ball, the game they named “Don’t Get Hit in the Face!”
May you also have a burst of spontaneous fun in the coming week! And most certainly, don’t get hit in the face!
Sally
I have a fairly extensive list of favorite games – gathered over the span of my career working with adults and children, but I don’t mind admitting that this program challenged me. It seemed like every time we turned around, I needed to come up with not just one game, but two or three. Beyond the sheer quantity of games, I wanted to be sure the games I chose were truly active. No kick ball where one person runs and the rest wait their turn. No games where someone gets out and then sits on the sidelines. No indeed. We wanted to model and teach games that encourage everyone – regardless of their athletic ability or fitness level – to play actively.
I was scrambling to keep up, to always have a game ready that would excite, energize, and inspire our group to play more actively with the kids they’ll be teaching. I’d brought all the resources I’ve relied on lo these many years – except those that were lent out and went missing from my collection. And I dipped into a wonderful new resource called CATCH Kids Club Activity box (available from Flaghouse.com) that had just the kind of games we wanted to demonstrate. And still I was scrambling.
And then, serendipity stepped in. It was mid-afternoon. I was tired. I wanted more than anything else to lie on the floor with my feet up in the air. Without a real plan, that’s what I did. I invited the teens to join me in a circle with our heads together, and tossed a couple beach balls in the air. Our task – to keep the balls in the air with our hands or our feet. Who knew that could be so fun? Our group mastered that task so well, I wondered aloud if we thought we might be able to handle the larger and heavier exercise ball I had brought along. Yeah! And the fun quotient leaped! Adults got in the game batting the ball back to our circle, and the giggles escalated every time someone made contact. It was like each hit or kick of the ball was a surprise – a funny, exciting surprise! When it was time to stop playing and move on to the next topic, none of us wanted to quit!
I’m thinking there’s a lesson in this experience. When I prepare well, when I draw on all my resources, I shouldn’t forget the spontaneous possibilities, the kind that bubble up almost of their own accord. I ought to let myself set up a situation and say, “I wonder what would happen if we …?” I can’t give up the preparation or the digging through resources, because that’s what gives me the confidence to be spontaneous. But I will remember to let some unexpected fun bubble up from wherever that well of inspiration resides. Because although we enjoyed playing all different kinds of games, the one we’ll all remember the longest and the most happily is the one with the big blue ball, the game they named “Don’t Get Hit in the Face!”
May you also have a burst of spontaneous fun in the coming week! And most certainly, don’t get hit in the face!
Sally
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