Lessons in Collectivism

Mentoring someone from a different culture has been quite a lesson in humility. I thought I understood privilege, but I still get taken off guard when my assumptions come back to kick me in the teeth. I've noticed it the most with my ideas around giving and possessions. When I give someone a gift, I expect that it will remain the property of the person I gave it to and that the person will treasure it as a token of my esteem and affection. Not necessarily so.

Look, I understand regifting and giving stuff to the thrift store if you hate it, if you really hate it, or it doesn't fit or something. For years, my grandma gave me frou-frou sweaters that were two sizes too small for me. Wishful thinking on her part--that I liked teddy bears and sequins on my clothes and that I would somehow magically be thin. So those went to Goodwill. But having your sister or your mom or your grandma just take the gift that was given to you and do with it what she pleases is absolutely foreign to me.

And I guess that's the essence of cultural misunderstanding and privilege, isn't it? I judge that behavior, and I want to intervene. My big-sister protective gene kicks in. Who takes a little kid's stuff anyway?

My sister Lindsey, wise person and counselor-in-training that she is, says, "They're collectivists." Of COURSE! How did I miss this? Me, who believes that socialist medicine can peacefully co-exist with capitalism. But my training is so strong, and my individualism so carefully maintained, that I needed someone with a different perspective to point out the flaw in my thinking. My mentee's mom had hinted that I was spoiling her daughter--apparently taking her to free craft classes, giving her a pumpkin at Halloween, and going out for chicken at Boston Market is a big deal. And giving her things? I think somehow that doesn't fit with their idea of what a mentor should be and do.

So I'm adjusting my thinking. Gifts should be for the whole family. Everything is considered community property. The pumpkin was turned into food rather than the jack-o-lantern I expected. A necklace that little one made with my expensive vintage beads was broken on the first day, and the beads were lost. A birthday gift card was appropriated. And this family gave up a whole room for a relative and his kids to live in for several months until he can move back to his country of origin. They took in a third dog and fostered him until they could find him a home. They eat dinner together around a big table in the kitchen.

I have much to learn.

The Little Things

My friend Emily and I hold each other accountable for our "daily joys," the little things that we give ourselves to feel happy, alive, and grateful. She loves her morning coffee, good-smelling candles, and organizing her house. The gifts I give myself are eating lunch on the deck, walking in the sunlight, strolling through my garden, and taking the time to cook good food.

Our lives are comprised of millions of moments, each with the potential for joy. What do you give yourself?

At the End of the Day

Projects have been evaluated, grades have been submitted, and another quarter is done. And upon reflection, teaching in the Graduate School of Social Work at DU is one of the best things that's ever happened to me. DU is simply a fab place to work. Even adjunct faculty (that's me) are treated with respect and given plenty of resources to do the job right. The environment is inclusive, and the students are thoughtful and intelligent. Watching social workers prepare to do good in the world makes me joyful.

All of that is good and right, but really, why do I teach? It's not the money; once you figure the time invested, the hourly rate is relatively low. It's not the prestige; as an adjunct faculty, there is none. It's not that I need to be an expert; I've been a big fish in a little pond plenty of times, and it's lost its luster.

So what it boils down to is connection--one human being relating to another. I lead, I facilitate, I guide, I show. I ask them to step outside their comfort zones. They help me stretch my boundaries and take down my walls. I respect them, and they respect me. We get to know each other: likes, dislikes, attitudes, personalities, quirks. We have lengthy, meaningful conversations. We give each other feedback. I watch them go from being fearful about money to feeling in control and excited about their future leadership in nonprofit organizations. I'm proud of them. We are connected.

I am an educator.

Happy Thanksgiving!

As I think about what I'm grateful for, I'm surprised by how different my life is this year than last. So much has changed, and I've brought about all of that change because I've had the space to find my values and power again. And I am oh-so-grateful for that space. Here's what else makes my heart light:

The robins having a little party in my garden today

Being part of the DU community

My students and the lessons they teach me

Milo the nephew dog

My sister Lindsey

My partner Gary

My mom

The clients who make me laugh

The lovely house I live in and the garden that surrounds me

Beads and making pretty baubles

Emily, Shannon, Heather, Amy, and Merry, who have been friends through good times and bad

Having my mentee, Consuelo, in my life

The staff and fellow board members at Smart-Girl

Barack Obama

Music! There was a great series of essays about music on This American Life (a show aired on NPR) last weekend, and one of the people on the show said this: "A chord here... A chord there... And your heart splits open." Yeah.


Blessings upon you.

Keep Your Chin Up

People marvel at my ability to stay positive in the face of the continued rejection that is a normal part of the job search. "What are my options?" I always ask. To wallow in self-pity? To despair? To externalize it and blame it on others? None of those sound very appealing to me. And those qualities certainly aren't very appealing to potential employers.

The last set of interviews was so strange that I had to keep telling myself to keep my chin up, though. First, I wrote the engaging cover letter and convincing resume that showed how my skills matched their needs. Passed that hurdle. They checked my references before even offering an interview. Passed that hurdle. Got an interview.

The first interview was with nine people and was a "you have twenty minutes to answer these questions" scenario. They didn't interact. They took detailed notes the entire time. I, on the other hand, was on it. I was charming. I was smart. I was well spoken.

This was immediately followed by a twenty-minute timed written test. I proved my ability to think on my feet; use technology; assess the need for, develop, and implement an educational program; and write persuasive marketing collateral. I was on it. I knew the material. Writing is one of my many well-honed skills. I work well under pressure. Passed those hurdles. Got the second interview.

OK, I thought, now they'll loosen up and have an actual conversation. Nope. No mention of the previous interview or anything that came before. The second interview was a "you have thirty minutes to answer these questions" scenario. No opportunity for me to ask questions or have a dialogue. At all. Their noses were buried in their papers the entire time. They barely nodded their heads to acknowledge I had spoken before moving on to the next question. I was not as smart or charming or well spoken as before.

Today I got the "no thanks" notice. I was disappointed. And I was relieved. An organization that has no room for conversation or interaction when deciding on the future leader of their organization doesn't have room for me.

Happy Surprises

I'm looking forward to Christmas lights. And snow. Every time fall rolls around, I can't help but think, "Christmas is coming, and spring's just around the corner!" My bulbs will poke their snouts up through the cold, cold ground because they can't wait any longer. That smell in the air of green things under the mulch... I digress.

Fall used to make me melancholy, but now my garden makes me appreciate every season. Its beauty is never ending. I enjoy caring for it: I clean it, I give it sustenance, and I invest time and energy and money in it. I watch it grow and change and feel a great sense of pride in how I've contributed to its loveliness. It delights and surprises me at every turn. The garden is like my child in many ways. And as if it were my child, I photograph it incessantly.

Here are some of the latest pictures of my darling one. The one with the little purple flowers is rosemary in bloom!

Change Has Come to America

As I write this, I am listening again to Barack Obama's presidential acceptance speech. And I am crying, again. This man moves me. He moved America. He represents hope--for Americans, but also for the rest of the world, which has been watching this race so closely and with bated breath.

But it's not just his philosophy of inclusion or his motivational way of speaking or his politics that move me to tears. I simply didn't think that America had grown up enough to see past skin color or gender, nor did I believe it would happen in my lifetime. But clearly this baby is moving out of the "terrible twos" and learning to say more than "No!"

I have never in my life been as happy to say that I was wrong. I am so proud of us I feel like my heart will burst.

That's Ms. CPA to You

A colleague I worked with always made me laugh by calling me Ms. CPA, which was a play on my credentials: MS, CPA. Recently a consultant I hired to give me advice about my job search suggested that perhaps my identification with my credentials is getting in my way. Why? Because it calls to mind the image of... I'll let you fill in the blank. What do you think of when you think "Certified Public Accountant"? Exactly. And that isn't me.

I didn't go down the path of the CPA who pays her dues at the public accounting firm, which is what you're supposed to do. (This was an early clue that I was not destined to fit in anyone's mold.) It just seemed, well, mundane and boring. Plus I knew exactly one woman who had made it big in public accounting, and she paid for it with a divorce and missing her kids' childhood. Now there's a ringing endorsement.

I'm nontraditional and anti-establishment in many ways. I was never a "public accountant." So why do I keep my license up to date? Why do I readily tell new networking contacts that I'm a CPA and forget to mention other important facets of my professional life (e.g., I'm an adjunct faculty member at DU, I volunteer at three different organizations, I own three businesses)?

Because I'm an ESTJ. Because I can process data and its relationship to the big picture faster than most people. Because I love numbers and the story they tell. Because I enjoy telling that story to other people. Because CPAs follow a code of ethics I believe in.

It's hard for people to reconcile my outgoing and friendly nature with the fact that I'm a CPA, and that's why my consultant recommended that I de-emphasize my financial background during the job search. She said that people want a CEO who is, above all, charming, and I throw them off with the financial credentials. I've followed her advice, and we'll see how it pans out.

But in the end, I'll always be Ms. CPA to you.

From Career Ladder to Career Lattice

Last week I attended a women's leadership luncheon sponsored by Deloitte LLP at the invitation of the Women's Foundation of Colorado. Sharon Allen was the keynote speaker--she's the Chairman of the Board of Deloitte, an accounting and consulting firm (yes, they still call her the Chairman though she is a woman). She's also on the Forbes list of the 100 Most Powerful Women in the World.

Ms. Allen spoke about how they have implemented the concept of the "career lattice" at Deloitte in order to replace the traditional "career ladder." Gone are the days of the traditional step-on-everyone-to-get-to-the-top philosophy. Gone are the days of fighting for the next promotion and the next raise. Gone are the days of having to leave if you're going to have a family.

It took me a while to wrap my head around the idea, because I was taught to believe that if you aren't forever getting more money and power, you're lazy, boring, or incompetent. And if you did take time out for family or anything else, well, you'd pretty much have to start over at the bottom. This was the price we paid for being women in a man's world.

But Sharon Allen talked about being able to "dial up" or "dial down" your career at various points in your life without having to give it all up. Flexibility and respect seem to be the cornerstones of this approach. After it sank in, I felt an overwhelming sense of relief. The world is starting to understand that women can add infinitely more value when they contribute from within their own framework.

If one of the most traditional, male-dominated industries in the U.S. has seen the light, we're closer to electing a woman president than I ever thought possible.

Joy Comes in Small Packages

The sun is shining and the weather is warm, warm, warm. I contributed time to Smart-Girl this afternoon that was meaningful--I built relationships and used my knowledge and skills. I scheduled a phone interview for an organization I believe in where I could most definitely WOW them as the CEO.

And I got a package in the mail today--the written evaluations from the class I taught at DU this summer. I was a bit reluctant to teach the Financial Management and Fundraising class in a condensed format--how would I ever fit it all in and keep them engaged? But I earned an "A"! My numerical scores were often 5.9 on a 6.0 scale. Here are some of the comments:

"Erin really cares about this subject and she is able to convey her vast knowledge succintly and effectively. I was impressed with her enthusiasm, preparation, and skill."

"Engaging teaching style"

"Erin did a wonderful job of finding ways to incorporate multiculturalism..."

"Instructor was knowledgable and able to go into specifics with real-life examples."

"Challenging both to experienced and inexperienced students"

Happy, happy, joy, joy! These are the days I live for.