Happy Celebration!

“In every community, there is work to be done. In every nation, there are wounds to heal. In every heart, there is the power to do it.” ~ Marianne Williamson

My life has included many different cities and states and each move has taught me a little bit more about the importance of community and why we should try and build it wherever we are.

In some ways, the actual definition of the word community is a bit contrary to modern-day realities. Depending on your situation, it can be challenging to find a group of people with whom you share common interests, attitudes and goals or have a common characteristic.

As the world becomes both more divided and diverse, we have to find ways to look past the obvious and seek to find the commonalities. While we come from different ethnic origins, have varying political beliefs and refer to God by the name associated with our religious beliefs. At our core, we have more in common than we don’t. I believe that finding this common ground is key to all of us coming together in a way that allows us to have different points of view and to share them with the intention of both teaching and listening.

I thought I understood this, but my neighbor’s daughters have unknowingly taught me many lessons in this area.

My neighbor’s homeland is Saudi Arabia and they have lived in the U.S. for I’m guessing about six years, Texas before Syracuse. Yesterday, during our sidewalk chalk art afternoon, I learned that three of the four kids were born in Saudi, the oldest daughter was born in Pakistan.

What I learned was amazingly simple. Kids are kids, no matter where they were born or raised. They have favorite subjects in school, and there are subjects that they dread. Siblings fight, but they also love each other fiercely. Kids pull pranks on each other and do their best to get out of doing chores.

It got me to thinking if kids are kids no matter what – doesn’t that mean that people are just people? At least when you strip away all of the baggage, we seem to accumulate as we grow up.

My neighbors recently confirmed this notion through a recent act of kindness and generosity.

They are celebrating Eid al-Adha, one of the holiest festivals in the Islamic faith. This year it begins on 7/30 and ends on 8/3.

Friday afternoon, the girls (my sidewalk art buddies) rang my doorbell and offered a basket of sweets for me to choose some from. The oldest girl said, “We are celebrating a holy holiday and want to say thank you.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I said, “Happy Celebration!”

A bit later in the evening, my doorbell rang again, and this time, it was all of the girls in the family, including the mother.

She offered me something tucked between two paper plates, and said, “I am sorry you weren’t able to come and share doughnuts with us earlier, but we wanted to bring you one.”

I explained that I had been working and would have loved to be there with them to share, and of course, I accepted it graciously.

I asked her the name of the celebration, she responded, “Eid al-Adha” and was kind enough to spell it for me so I could look it up later.

I asked her about the celebration, and she explained the history. I will need to do more research to share it, but, the crux of it is, that kindness is everything, something that is common to all religions.

At the heart of the celebration is to recognize and acknowledge sacrifices and to share with others. Sharing gifts of food is one of the traditions.

It was a simple but meaningful conversation.

My last question to her was, “What is the proper way for me to thank you and show my honor for your holiday.”

She simply said, “You told my girls, Happy Celebration, you did it just right.”

Community is all around us, sometimes you just have to work a little harder to find and build it. It’s incredibly rewarding when it happens.

One Good Thing

March 20, 2020, was the last day my team worked in the office before the state of N.Y. shut down because of COVID. Since then, we’ve been working from home.

It’s been an interesting transition and a combination of the company scrambling to procure devices such as laptops and technology to enable easy remote access and people being willing to use personal devices to continue to be productive and effective.

We are executing on a huge website replatforming project – working remotely isn’t necessarily the best way to facilitate this. Unlike the norm, my team has more than doubled in size during this unprecedented time – going from three members (including me) to seven. These are some tough circumstances under which to build a team and to launch a new website. But, against all the odds, we have, thanks to the wonderful people on my team.

We have daily remote calls, sometimes we’re all on camera, sometimes no one is, and sometimes it’s a mixture. The essential things are, we meet every day, and people know they have a choice about whether or not to be on video.

When we started our remote daily “stand-ups,” I asked everyone to start the call with “one good thing” that happened the previous day. My original intent was to help us all stay focused, for at least a moment, on gratitude. It’s turned out to have quite an unexpected and unintended positive outcome.

We’ve gotten to know each other better during a time in which the team is onboarding new members from both outside of the company and within the company, but from different groups. From my perspective, it’s been a really unique time and way to do team building.

There’s no substitute for in-person interaction, but we’ve made the best of it. We share lots of things, from recipes, to what we made for dinner the previous night to sidewalk chalk adventures.

Here are some things I’ve learned about my team members (using initials, so I don’t infringe on anyone’s privacy).

A.B. is from Korea and is relatively new to our industry. She is eager to learn and more than willing to embrace feedback. A has recently started to explore the world of visual art and recently was brave enough to share her drawings with the team, something we all appreciated. She very much enjoys movies, books and food from her native land, and during the pandemic has been able to connect with many of her friends from all over the world. Her face lights up when she is delighted and that is often.

R.B. has been living in Buffalo since the pandemic made landfall, which has been good for him. He’s had time away in a positive living environment and away from his toxic roommate in Syracuse. As the mom of kids who’ve experienced some toxic roommate experiences, I totally get it. Even before he temporarily relocated to Buffalo, he had started to discover his talent in the kitchen, and it’s grown from there with an appreciative audience to share dinner with. He’s also exploring the world of clothing design – great things to come, no doubt. I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that his dog has been surrounded by cats for the summer, and it has resulted in some very amusing anecdotes.

S. E. is the mom of two beautiful children just starting out in the world, a 4-year-old and an infant, not a newborn – but not yet a year old. Her 4-year-old daughter is now dabbling in sports such as t-ball and is loving it. Both of her kids enjoy neighborhood gatherings and family outings to explore the area. According to her daughter, S’s husband, in addition to being a medical professional, is also a lawn care professional who is bringing life to the lawn in their newly built home. Last but not least, she’s a caring person who makes treats for others in her neighborhood.

S.T. loves the outdoors and spending his time biking and hiking. He also loves to read – Stephen King is one of his favorite authors, and he’s also a fan of podcasts and is always connecting the dots between events. If you want a recommendation for an outdoor escape, he’s definitely a go-to person. He loves dogs, is very handy at remodeling – and has made substantial home improvements with the help of Home Depot during the past few months.

T.C. is a jack of all trades, and more than competent at all of them. He’s a vegan chef, a Moped rebuilder, and more than handy around his house. T is a wonderful dad, who loves his daughter beyond words, it’s touched me more than once to see their morning hug. He also is an excellent reference for where to go in the great outdoors – and also where to go to get great craft beer. He loves helping his friends, even though he hasn’t necessarily come out and said that, it’s obvious – and I have no doubt they appreciate him as much as he appreciates them.

T. R. recently moved into a house with his fiance. They’re planning a wedding for October of 2021. He has a new baby sister, whom he’s gotten to see twice during this strange time – looking forward to more pictures of her as she grows. He’s done a fantastic job of making his new house a home, and one of his latest projects is making sure the new grass seed takes hold. He and his fiance enjoy quiet nights at home together. One of the things they enjoy doing together is cooking, perhaps especially making meatballs together to put in the freezer so they can enjoy meatball sandwiches together.

I imagine my team has learned a few things about me as well, but I’ll leave that to them. I’m just grateful to be working with a group of people who are so willing and able to make the best of things.

#metoo – I am not to Blame

I Speak for Myself

My brother recently recommended a writing course through Coursera to me via email. It’s similar to the platform I began taking writing classes through, called Ed2Go. Both platforms offer a wide variety of virtual courses at a very affordable price. Coursea has a more formal peer review process, which will be interesting to experience.

I registered for “Memoir and Personal Essay Writing” and just submitted my first assignment on time I might add. The assignment was called “Context in Memory,” and the instructions were to write a to a teacher or mentor recount a personal experience that had a notable impact on your life. The additional challenge was to incorporate a reference to an event that made headlines during that time and attempt to connect the experience to a significant social awareness that you didn’t possess at the time.

I’ll be curious to receive my grade and read the peer reviews in a few days. I thought I’d share it on my blog as well.


Dear Lona,

I think about you often, especially now that I’m an adult and have started retaking piano lessons. It’s the second time in the past 15 years that I’ve brushed off the keyboard and rediscovered the joy of creating music. Both of my teachers have been grateful for your instruction, particularly as it relates to good fingering while exploring a piece of music.

High school is never easy, which I’m sure you knew only too well, being the mother of teenagers yourself.

Looking back, I think one of the most difficult things about being a teenage girl, are the feelings of doubt when it comes to your own beauty and self-worth. In my case, which I don’t think is unusual, these feelings combined with a naivety about the ways of the world.

The longing to feel attractive, combined with a lack of understanding of how some men operate, can leave a young girl or a woman open and vulnerable to sexual harassment.

As far as I know, it wasn’t until 1976 until the Court ruled in favor of a woman who filed a quid pro quo sexual harassment suit against her boss. Diane Williams worked as a public information specialist, and bravely chose to refuse sexual advances as threats, or perhaps rewards for her performance, from her boss Harvey Bison. The sad and angering thing is that she was terminated from her position in 1972. It took four years for her to receive justice.

At the time, I had no awareness that this landmark event had transpired. My world was wrapped up in the world of High School and trying to fit in. In addition to the swim team, I joined the debate and drama clubs.

I loved both, and until an unfortunate event at a debate competition, I secretly dreamed of being an actress on Broadway or a powerful attorney who lived somewhere cool.

As I recall, I was one of the only females on the debate team. You may have gathered this, but I didn’t consider myself to be particularly attractive, but looking back, it seems that the debate and drama coach did.

As we were walking into the competition venue, he pulled me aside and advised me in the following way, “Beth, the coaches for these debates are all men. I’d like you to unbutton your blouse another three buttons. That will help to win them over to our team.”

I had no idea what to think. He was my teacher. But what he was asking me to do just seemed wrong, and I didn’t do it. Our team won the competition without my cleavage. However, the experience scared me, because I was convinced that I had done something to deserve the request. I didn’t comply; instead, I quit both debate and drama.

Little did I know that thirty years later, unfortunately, after multiple similar life experiences, the #metoo movement would begin.

I wish I had realized that I could have and should have trusted someone like you or my parents with the truth of what happened to me. But like so many women, I was ashamed and felt responsible for every occurrence of sexual harassment during my lifetime.

Finally, as a woman of a certain age, I have come to complete peace with it all and no longer feel any sort of responsibility for the actions of others. I’m also much wiser and will not fall victim to such treatment ever again.

As you taught me the piano, and many other things, such as how to laugh and enjoy life. I hope to use my experiences to help other women avoid and recover from such abuse.

You are missed deeply by all who knew you.

With much love,

Beth

Being Mugged at Gunpoint, not an Everyday Experience…

Philadelphia Magic Garden outside wall

In May of 2019, I visited my youngest son and one of my best friends in what has become one of my favorite cities, Philadelphia.

Friday night we had a grand reunion gathering with many friends I had grown to love during my time in Pennsylvania. Good food, lots of laughter, and reminiscing. They all enjoyed meeting my son.

On Saturday the two of us drove to Bethlehem, PA to spend time with his girlfriend. We had a very enjoyable day. It was filled with a wonderful Greek food festival, followed by a horrible wine tasting event and ear screeching music – the stuff memories are made of – lol.

When we returned to Philly, we called my friend and arranged to meet behind his condo so I could buy him at least one glass of wine to thank him for his generosity over the weekend.

Unfortunately, things went south pretty quickly.

The three of us were walking nonchalantly down the cobblestone path that connects my friend’s condo residence with the wine bar we were walking toward. We were laughing and talking about the events of the day and looking forward to catching up further over a glass of wine.

Out of the blue, three men stepped out of the shadows and pulled a gun on us. We all froze in unexpected surprise and bewilderment.

The guy that was in charge demanded that we get down on our knees, we did. Before that, they frisked us all and pulled out my friend’s wallet as well as my son’s and ripped the backpack off of his shoulders.

In the end, they stole all of our phones, $200 in cash from my friend – also his car keys, driver’s license, and credit cards, as well as my son’s ID.

After kneeling against a stair stoop with a gun held to my head (Words I never imagined myself saying), we waited for them to leave and in a harried moment, I convinced a woman to let us use her phone to call the police.

She looked scared at first, but it didn’t take long for her to realize that we were for real. The police showed up in seconds. This was far from the first time they’ve had a similar incident. I’m just going to say that going to Police Headquarters to make a statement is far from a pleasant experience, in oh so many ways.

The material losses were small ones in the grand scheme of things. We all made it through the ordeal safely, and while more than a bit rattled, it could have been so much worse. It’s simply one of those things that you never expect will happen to you.

I’ve honestly had a really hard time letting go of the experience. I still find myself jumping at unexpected noises.

Perhaps this will change over time.

Words are how I process.

 

 

Color Blindness and Assimilation, Food for Thought…

I’m currently listening to the thought-provoking book How to Be an Antiracist by  Ibram X. Kendi.

As a white woman, ‘of a certain age,’ I grew up believing that being ‘color blind’ was the equivalent of being antiracist. This, to me, has been a belief that racial classification does not limit a person’s opportunities. The reality is, it does.

The underlying falsehood associated with being color blind is that it ignores the fact that to succeed in the U.S. and perhaps in the world at large, is that it’s necessary for people to assimilate themselves into a society dominated by white men.

I’ve just begun the book, but the clear message from the author has already prompted me to take pause and evaluate my points of view as it relates to racism, sexual discrimination and prejudice exhibited toward individuals who identify with the LBGTQ community. As open-minded and accepting as I believed myself to be, I’m quickly learning that there is more for me to grasp.

There’s no denying that the struggles and oppression faced by the black citizens of our nation have been egregious and have persisted for centuries, it also strikes me that the attitudes regarding the need to assimilate apply to many of us.

For centuries women have been considered to be inferior to men, and still, in 2020, they continue to bang their heads up against the glass ceiling. It seems as though the only way they can break through it is to adopt a harsh and cut-throat approach to the world in which they are trying to succeed. I regularly shake my head in dismay at many of these women who seem to have abandoned what makes them women in favor of achieving in a ‘man’s world.’ People of the LGBTQ community have also hidden their truths until the last couple of decades.

A key difference is that if your skin color is white, regardless of whether you’re a woman or identify with a sexual orientation other than straight, it’s easier to assimilate into the white male world. You can ‘hide’ your identity and your viewpoints on life if you feel the need to.

If you are a person of color, it’s impossible to mask who you are, God forbid you are both a person of color and a woman or sexually identify with a gender that doesn’t match the stereotyped expectations,

While I abhor what has happened recently with the brutal murder of George Flloyd, an event that has triggered a worldwide movement toward awareness and a cry for a compassionate, equitable, and consistent execution of the law – I am also grateful.

Recent events have caused me to remove myself from my comfort zone and examine my contributions to the problems and consider ways to be an active part of the solution, in my own way.

Just Wondering…

Can someone reconnect with a friend whom they met in the sixth grade, exchanged letters for a few years, but hasn’t communicated with in over 40 years?

I’m going to try.

Over Thanksgiving, tales of my adventures with my best friend from sixth grade were told and retold. She and I shared some wonderful times exchanging secrets, torturing siblings and attempting to build tree houses. We also went to movies, played barbies and spent hours ice skating under the guise of looking for cute boys.

Our conversation at Thanksgiving prompted my dad to contact an acquaintance who might know Lynn’s dad, a conversation that led to my receiving an email with the contact information for my best friend.

In a newspaper article, celebrating the 90th birthday of her dad – she was mentioned within the context of her married name. From there it wasn’t all that difficult to find the contact information for her husband. Thus the email I received, which included a not so subtle nudge from my dad to find a way to reach out to her via the contact info he found.

This past weekend, I unearthed my one and only Scrapbook and memories of the past rolled down my face and at the same time, filled me with joy. There, within the yellowed pages and still bound to the pages by yellow, brittle scotch tape, were letters from Lynn – my best friend at the time, a person I’ve never forgotten and always have held dear.

What to do?

Here I was with a boatload of memories from my scrapbook and the contact information for an Orthopedic Dr. in Rapid City, South Dakota, the name of the man she is married to.

Is it her? I can’t be sure, but it seems like a reliable trail of clues. I felt more than a bit of angst over calling or emailing the office to make a connection with her. These days, I’m certain I would have been written off as a total weirdo.

So, instead – at my mom’s suggestion, I found her home address through a Google Search. I know, that sounds a little creepy as well – but, honestly, the internet is cool when used in the right ways.

I’ve composed a letter, and am sending her a copy of one of her correspondences to me – we’ll see where this goes.

I hope we reconnect.

More to come…

Sixth grade memories

So many memories flying around in my head right now.

Lessons in Leadership

It’s odd, but true that one of my most profound learning experiences as a leader has also been one of my best-kept secrets. It’s an experience that caused me so much shame and embarrassment that I haven’t shared it with many people – in fact, I just recently shared it with my parents more than 20 years after it happened.

As a young supervisor, I entered my new role with unearned confidence after having been the President of the University Program Council at my college, coupled with many summers of managing lifeguards at a local country club and a short stint in retail.

Little did I know what the business world expected and would require from me.

I entered the “real” work world as the supervisor of a small call-center for a printing company. Don’t even get me started on the ridiculous interviewing tactics of my then manager. They included describing the dimensions of block of wood, which was somehow supposed to relate to printing – I actually never understood the connection.

Anyway, fast forward to my role as the Customer Service Supervisor (yes I was hired).

I thought I was doing a fantastic job. After all, “everyone “loved me.”

Turns out, it was time for a significant course correction.

The company (ahead of its time) conducted an employee satisfaction survey, “guaranteed to be anonymous.” The survey included the opportunity to give direct feedback about your supervisor, and honesty was encouraged.

The survey was sent, the results were received and the feedback sessions were scheduled.

I’m reasonably sure my feedback session was the first. It was awful, no, let’s make that horrible. Not only was the feedback hard to hear – the setting was worse.

Imagine sitting in a conference room surrounded by your direct reports, the V.P. of HR (aka the daughter of the owner of the company, in this case) and your nemesis. In other words, I was sitting at a table with the people who had been asked to provide “anonymous” feedback about my performance as their supervisor.

It also included the woman who had been hired to be promoted into the position I wholeheartedly and mistakenly believed should have been mine. Could there be a more uncomfortable setting? I think not – it was beyond awkward for everyone.

Long story short, and I’ll get to the point. The feedback I received was painful to hear but honest and accurate.

The next morning, after a night of endless tears, I made myself get out of bed and go to work. Just as I got to my desk, the phone rang, the name and extension number on the display signaled it was John O’Brien, the president company. I froze, then shakily picked up the receiver and said, “This is Beth.”

He asked me to come to his office.

I was terrified of the outcome – sure I would be fired because I had received such a terrible review from the survey. But here’s how the conversation went.

“Beth, yesterday was a tough day for you. First and foremost, I want to apologize to you for how the feedback was delivered. That was not my intention, and unfortunately, I didn’t do a good job of setting up the right way to communicate the feedback. I own that, and you should have never received the feedback in a group setting, it should have been private.

Having said that, it happened. Tell me what you think about what was said and what you heard, separate from the way you received it.”

After a deep breath and through barely held back tears, I responded, “It was hard to hear, but it was accurate. I do try too hard to be liked instead of giving people honest feedback that might be difficult to hear but would help them grow. There were many things said that I need to improve on and change. The list is long.”

His reply as he handed me a tissue, “You have choices now, Beth. What are you going to do?”

“John, it’s embarrassing to admit, but what they said was right, and like I said, it was hard to hear, but it’s obvious I need to make some changes.  I’ll need help along the way, but I want to make this work.”

“You have great potential, I knew you’d make the right choice, and I’ll help you in every way I can. We both learned valuable lessons yesterday and today. Let’s put this  experience behind us, but learn from it.”

Looking back, the choice seemed rather obvious to me at the time, purely from an “I need to keep my job” perspective. But as it turns out, this was one of, if not the biggest and best lessons in leadership I have ever learned.

The lesson was painful but straightforward. People look to a leader to help them grow, not to be a friend. It’s essential to believe in people and to take a personal interest in their lives and in their success, but boundaries are important and necessary. Being a leader is important and bears responsibility. As a mother, I often-times liken it to parenthood.

We want the best for our kids, we are stewards of their lives – after all, we brought them into the world. While we didn’t bring the people we work with into the world, we spend more time with them than we do our own children when it’s all said and done. So, as leaders, and we all are in one way or another, we have the responsibility and the privilege to care for the people we interact with. Especially if we are in a leadership role.

The people we work with rely on us to show both honesty and compassion in our relationships with them. What they may or may not understand is that it’s not always easy. I’d never thought about it before, but I now realize that John O’Brien probably dreaded the conversation with me, maybe nearly as much as I dreaded facing him.

In the end, he owned his part in the debacle but didn’t let me lose sight of the leadership lesson I needed to learn. John O’Brien was someone who owned his mistakes, made the needs of his employees a priority and helped people develop. In other words, he was a servant leader long before it was a corporate buzz word.

While the experience was undoubtedly the most humiliating one of my professional career, it was also the most important one. Because of it, I learned what it means to be a leader and it changed the course of my career for the better.

Recently I attended a leadership workshop, which brought the experience full circle. It involved a “360 review.” This basically means questions are sent to your manager, peers and direct reports requesting feedback on your effectiveness as a leader.

I’ll leave it at this, John would be proud of the leader I’ve become.

First Kisses…

I’m thinking that everyone remembers their first kiss. I’d also be willing to go out on a limb and speculate that most of those first kisses were awkward rather than breathtaking…

Just guessing.

It’s awkward, that first kiss – sometimes it comes when you least expect it, like at a cast party after a middle school play and you have no idea what do to when lips meet lips and you still have a Frito chip dissolving on your tongue.

How does one prepare for that?

During play rehearsals, we were carefully coached on the art of “fake” kissing on stage. It was a unique approach, not sure if it was widely taught or just local.

It involved very carefully placed stage movements and hand over mouth placements to keep the hand to hand meeting appear to be between lips and not between hands clasped over lips. I have no idea if it actually worked or if the audience just chuckled.

Although my role in the play involved no “kissing” roles, the star of the play – I still remember his name, kissed me at the cast party. Well, it wasn’t that great – there was the Frito in my mouth and I wasn’t expecting an actual kiss. Let’s just say it was awkward.

Dating again, as a “person of a certain age,” has introduced a whole new round of first kisses. It’s no less awkward the second time around. At least I know more than I did when I was 14. Just saying…

Snapdragons and Butterflies

It seems appropriate and fitting to reblog this today – it’s my grandmother’s birthday. 🙂

it's a whole new world

purple snapdragon and white butterfly - medium charcoal pencil and color pencil with a touch of ink and pastel Snapdragons and Butterflies

Today is my maternal Grandmother’s birthday.  If I’ve done my math correctly she would have 101 years young today. I have many wonderful memories of her which include learning how to properly knead the dough, the taste of homemade bread fresh from the oven, and playing  “boutique” for hours on end.  However, the image that most often comes to mind when I think of her is one of snapdragons and butterflies.

It seemed appropriate to post an essay entitled Snapdragons and Butterflies to commemorate her birthday.  I wrote it in December 2010 and it’s one of my earliest completed pieces as well as one of my favorites.  It also seemed fitting to illustrate the post with my first solo drawing.  Although my original idea was to create a realistic interpretation of my favorite flower I decided a version that was more child-like was the way to go…

View original post 453 more words