The Jar of Love

My sister Lindsey and I agreed that we would make gifts for each other this year to save money and to put our respective talents to use. Lindsey made Gary a dee-licious pumpkin pie and some beautiful handmade cards that he can send for birthdays and other occasions. He was pumped! Lindsey made me some very cool handmade Christmas trading cards and three dozen peanut butter balls, which are my very favorite cookie/candy in this whole wide world. They freeze well, too, so I'll be rationing those out at least until Valentine's Day, when I can maybe beg for some more.

For Lindsey, I wrote up six of my favorite recipes, made two pairs of earrings, and thought up some great coupons (with Gary's help) that I put together in the coolest little coupon book. But the most fun present to make was the "jar of love."

Gary and I had a couple of marathon sessions where we talked out loud about everything we love about Lindsey. I typed up our thoughts and printed them out. Gary made them look good by mounting each separate thought on a piece of patterned paper. Then we put them all in a jar and labelled it "Reasons Why We Love You." One of them was: You always have a suggestion about how to improve a bad situation. Another was: You're insightful about how people relate to one another. You get the idea...

We were pretty proud of ourselves for making such a cool gift, and Lindsey cried when she opened it. (It runs in our family--my mom cried about one of her gifts, too.) I hope that my sister will open that jar any time she needs a boost or a positive thought or to feel loved. I hope that it makes her feel like the special person that she is.

But I got more out of that gift than she ever will--insight into why my love for her runs so deep. It's not just because I helped change her diapers and held her hand when she crossed the street and got up with her when she was sick sometimes. It's not just because I watched her grow from a baby into a woman. It's not just that we have a psychic link (no kidding--we're complete opposites on the Myers-Briggs scale and still routinely say exactly the same thing at the exactly the same time in exactly the same tone of voice!). I love her because she is funny and smart and loving and loyal. Even if she weren't my sister, I'd count myself lucky to be her friend.

Java Jive

In the last six months, I've met people at coffee houses all over Denver. It's a running joke between Gary and me that I've been to so many Starbucks, and am intimately familiar with a few, despite the fact that I'm anti-Starbucks.

When I met someone at my favorite Peet's Coffee on the 16th Street Mall a couple of months ago, I realized that coffee shops have changed the face of business. They've given us a neutral, casual place to meet, talk, make deals, and exchange information. In the past, we either had to do a power lunch or dinner or meet in someone's stuffy office or board room.

Tradition and power are the bastions of boomers' and veterans' values. But as the Xers and Y generation have moved up in the professional world, we've made coffee houses our place of choice to change the world. This is a lesson that older, more mature cultures learned hundreds or even thousands of years ago--business conducted in a comfortable environment over a shared pleasure (hot coffee or tea or a sugar-filled delight that pretends to be coffee) builds relationships and is infinitely more fun.

So I guess Starbucks isn't that bad after all. It's a rent-free meeting room that's wired for free Internet access. No wonder the coffee costs $5.

Back in the Saddle Again

I had to take a break from teaching for a couple of years because I got a little burned out. My day job was demanding more of my time, and when I couldn't muster one ounce of sympathy for "My dog ate my homework" anymore, I gave up. (Yes, adult students really say stuff like that.) No patience and not enough time do not make a good teacher. And as my sister and my ESTJ Myers-Briggs Type Indicator point out, anything I do I want to do well.

But I'm baaaaaaaaaack. Red Rocks Community College asked me to teach Principles of Accounting II this summer, which I agreed to do despite the daunting task of redoing all assignments for the new book, figuring out the new online homework system, and completing a file folder full (not kidding!) of human-resources paperwork. ;)

But what's really cool is that the University of Denver asked me to teach a master's level course this winter--nonprofit financial management for people in the social-work degree program. How exciting! (This is what maintaining your network can do for you, people.)

I'm thrilled about it because I'll get the opportunity to interact with my people--those who work in the human-services nonprofit sector. And I'm going to tap my network to bring in people with expertise I don't have to make it a fun, meaningful learning experience. And I will get to teach students at a higher level--hooray! So the only question remaining is: Will the dog eat their homework too?

Take a Little Piece of My Heart Now Baby

I dreamt the other night that my family had Dino (a funny-looking black and white dacshund/terrier mix) and Jenny (a black Lab) again--my first dogs when I was little. In the dream, I was refusing to give them up even though they were decrepit. "We're not getting other dogs!" I shouted to no one and everyone.

It's not hard to interpret that one. A year ago today we lost Rachel, our furry companion of almost fourteen years. Sometimes I still miss her so much it feels like my heart will burst. Thankfully those times are fewer and farther between now, but that underlying, steady layer of grief is still too close. It keeps the good memories at bay.

People have pretty much stopped asking when we're going to get another dog, which is good because when they do it makes me put up my "I-don't-feel-anything wall," which is bad. How does one adequately explain the thoughts and emotions that govern one's particular brand of grief? It's impossible, so I turn it into a tagline and change the subject.

But today I am grieving and putting it out there with the hope that the act of sharing will let some of the bad feelings slip away and some of the good memories take up housekeeping. How I do miss her little self.

Snoozin' on the bed 2004

Photo Shoot September 2004

Camping August 2006

Her last day--outside, where she loved it best

Let's Get Back to the Basics: Communication

Today I met with the public policy liaison from the Denver Department of Human Services. She's been around government and nonprofits for a long while and so has a unique perspective on what's happening in our community.

I asked the usual informational interview questions, but I knew I had a wealth of information at my fingertips, all packaged up in this little bundle of energy. So I asked, "What do we need to be doing to move the community forward?" She talked about the major issues: homelessness, child welfare and protection, public and higher education, transportation infrastructure, and welfare reform.

But her main message was this: market effectively. She didn't say it like that, but that was it in a nutshell. The public is blissfully unaware of how human-services and other public policy issues affect our community. Coloradans are notoriously low givers in a state with a relatively high income per capita. Whose fault is that? If you want to educate and raise awareness of and funds for a cause, what do you do? MARKET THE MESSAGE EFFECTIVELY.

Too many of us in nonprofits focus on the day-to-day and putting out fires without investing in the future. How many human-services nonprofits have development staff but no marketing staff? Governments and nonprofits MUST build the marketing infrastructure to support the necessary fundraising infrastructure. If not, we'll keep serving up the same meal day after day--would you like the crisis du jour?