books, friendship, The Journal of Cultural Conversation, writing

My Year of Hopefulness – Success in Writing

“To appreciate beauty; to give of one’s self, to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to have played and laughed with enthusiasm and sung with exultation; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived — that is to have succeeded.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Last week I sent an email off to a nonfiction writer whose work I greatly admire. She writes the histories of people who defied odds to create something truly remarkable in the world. I wanted to interview her for The Journal of Cultural Conversation. I was delighted when she emailed me immediately to say she’d love to be featured. I fired off a set of questions to her and waited for her response.

As I read her answers, I found myself nodding my head in full agreement with everything she said. Until I got to the final question: “What advice do you have for aspiring writers?” Her response: “Honestly, we’re in such a difficult time for non-fiction writers because the Internet has blown up the longtime economic models, I’m not sure how newcomers are supposed to make a living. I started off in newspapers and then briefly free-lanced for magazines. What newspapers are hiring today and what’s the future of magazines? The on-line sites pay nothing or tiny amounts. Ebooks may well undermine the publishing model that makes sizable advances possible. So, I truly don’t know how young writers will develop paying careers. And I find that sad.” Ouch.

I sat back at my desk and let out a long, slow sigh. I can’t possibly publish that answer with the interview. And then I considered why I was so resistant to that answer. After all, this writer sent me this very honest answer, and I always want honesty from people I interview. I don’t want candy-coated metaphors. Tell me what you think and how you feel. She did, and now I’m upset. Not exactly fair of me, is it?

Let’s consider this from her point of view – she’s a very established writer. She’d put out tomes that are the definitive works of the people she’s written about. She’s in the industry of publishing and she’s frustrated by the changes she sees occurring. We’re all entitled to feel frustrated from time to time. Maybe she was in a bad mood when she got my email. Maybe she was hungry – I get cranky when I’m hungry, too.

In this conversation with myself, I had to ask the question, “why am I doing this? All this writing? What am I trying to do here?” Recently a friend of mine questioned my motive about my writing. Out of concern, the friend thinks I might be wasting my time with all this work. At first this comment really hurt me, particularly because I have always been so encouraging of this friend. With this question before me, an answer quickly and easily surfaced, much to my surprise.

I’m not trying to make a living as a writer. I make a good living as a product developer, and I enjoy that work immensely. But it’s not my life. Writing is helping me build a life I’m happy with and proud of. It’s helping me to connect with interesting, passionate, inspiring people. I learn so much through these connections. And most of all, my writing is helping others. I get emails, texts, phone calls, and online comments on a variety of sources about how much my posts have helped them. It’s humbling. With writing, I’m doing some good in the world, and that’s all I’m really after.

The author I interviewed may be absolutely right – perhaps the publishing / writing paradigm has shifted forever due to technological advances. Maybe a career like hers, the way that she built it, just isn’t going to be possible going forward. And that’s just fine with me. Change arrives on our doorstep every moment, and there’s no way to shut it out. We can’t stop the world from transforming. What we can do, and what I try to do everyday, is show up in the world, tell my stories with honesty and grace, with the hope that some of them resonate with another soul. That’s really all I ever need in this life – to reach out, connect, and feel like I’m part of the global conversation.

books, New York Times, philanthropy, poverty, women

My Year of Hopefulness – Take Care of Women

There are a few books on my shelves that changed by life. Nelson Mandela’s Long Walk to Freedom because he helped me understand the true meaning of what it takes to sacrifice for the greater good. Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird because her words and advice welcomed me into the world of being a writer. Greg Mortenson’s Three Cups of Tea is a striking story of perseverance. And for the first time, he confirmed for me what I have thought intuitively for a long time – women are the root of the world’s progress. If we invest in improving, they become the rising tide that lifts all boats. There is scientific data collected over decades of research that shows the tremendous benefit experienced by the world as women become more educated, financially independent, and confident.

This coming Sunday, The New York Times Magazine will run a stunning cover story by Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn about raising up “the world’s women, as the best way to address global poverty and instability.” The entire issue is devoted to the subject. You can get a sneak preview of the article here. The article is a portion of their book entitled Half the Sky: Turning Oppression Into Opportunity for Women Worldwide. The book will be available for purchase on September 8th. Kristof is an active Facebook user and I highly recommend his page for anyone interested in global social issues.

The area of philanthropy and community building that I find most fascinating is the power of leverage. Jacqueline Novogratz, founder of Acumen Fund, writes about it so eloquently in The Blue Sweater. Greg Mortenson writes about it, as does Robert Egger in his book Begging for Change. If I give $1 to one group, they get $1 worth of products or services that helps their cause. What I want to do is give my $1 somewhere so that it does $1.25, $1.50, $2 worth of good. It’s the familiar economic principle of economies of scale. How much of a product or a service do I have to buy so that each incremental unit becomes cheaper? It’s buying in bulk applied to the goal of societal benefit.

Now step away from the scientific data, and we find that embedded in Half the Sky are remarkable stories of endurance, passion, and the transformative change of whole communities built upon the rock of female confidence. Abbas Be became a bookbinder and now funds her sisters’ education after spending her early years as a prisoner in a brothel in Delhi. Saima Muhammad from Pakistan lived a miserable existence under the thumb of her abusive husband until she received a $65 microloan from Kashf Foundation to start a textiles company that is now thriving. The stories are powerful and many, and they come from every corner of the globe. They also make any challenge I face minuscule. If these women can survive and thrive in their circumstances, we can all do well with what we’ve got.

In so many nations, women and girls are marginalized and abused, their value as community members and as human beings discounted to the point of worthlessness. This must stop. Today. Kristof and WuDunn continue to lay the ground work along with so many other brave voices that must lead to a world that provides a better existence for women and girls. Better education, healthcare, and just the opportunity to improve their lot. You really want to change the world? You want to have an impactful, lasting change on how our communities function? Help women.

The photo above was taken by Katy Grannan for The New York Times.

books, change, family, growth

My Year of Hopefulness – Unaccustomed Earth

I’m reading the book Unaccustomed Earth by Jhumpa Lahiri, a book I’ve been interested for over a year because I was so touched by her last book, The Namesake. Lahiri has a beautiful way of weaving stories between generations and across cultures, identifying and then eloquently writing about her characters thoughts and their often mismatched actions. Her characters are flawed in serious ways, making them so real that after a few pages, we think they are our neighbors, our family members, our friends.

The title “Unaccustomed Earth” intrigues me. Before picking up the book, I thought Lahiri was talking about new and uncharted waters that her characters would take on. This true, with the added twist that the uncharted waters are new challenges taken on by new generations while their hearts, minds, traditions, and families remain firmly rooted in the past. Her main focus in this book is the conflict that arises in a family as the world, physical and emotional, quickly transforms and changes from one generation to the next.

In my home town, people rarely leave. 99% of families are Italian and Catholic, like mine. There are roads named after prominent families in town who have made their homes there for generations. Generations of families live side-by-side, childhood friends remain friends forever, having the same conversations day in and day out. There, time stands still.

My family is a transplant there – neither my mom nor my dad grew up there. My brother is there thought my sister, Weez, and I left as soon as we headed off for college and never looked back. This was an unfamiliar practice – most people who went to college went locally or at least within the state. My sister and I never even considered sticking around. We were off for greener pastures, the same way my mom and dad were when they were young. Maybe finding our own way in the world, away from everything and everyone we knew as kids, is somehow rooted in our genes.

While my mom always wanted us to make our own way, it’s fair to say that she wishes we were all always around, all the time. It must be a hard process to watch someone you brought into the world head out into the unknown to see what they can find. Lahiri’s stories boil down to a common theme: the unknown is frightening, and it’s especially frightening for older generations who watch younger ones take flight in foreign spaces. I imagine it’s the same for my mom – while she wants so much for us to have adventures, she also worries about Weez and I being safe and happy and healthy in a way that she doesn’t worry about my brother.

Lahiri begins her book with a quote that puts her stories in perspective. “Human nature will not flourish…for too long a series of generations in the same worn-out soil. My children…shall strike their roots in unaccustomed earth. ~Nathaniel Hawthorne.” While the stories mostly talk about conflict between generations, with Hawthorne’s quote she acknowledges that future generations must put down their roots in foreign soil in order for us to move forward, evolve, and lead productive lives. It’s that process of making the unfamiliar familiar that is so critical to our development, and the development of humanity. Adapt and change are the only two things we ever really have to do.

books, New York City, teaching

My Year of Hopefulness – Teachers

“It’s lovely to know that the world can’t interfere with the inside of your head.” ~ Frank McCourt

Daily Good wrote a beautiful tribute to Frank McCourt today. Mr. McCourt passed away last week after having written a set of prize-winning books regarding his childhood in Ireland and his career teaching in New York City public schools. I love those books; I began reading them when I first moved to New York 11 years ago. Having gone to public school myself, his stories brought back some fun memories from my own childhood and gave me a new perspective on teaching and writing.

Now years later, I volunteer with Junior Achievement of New York, teaching in New York City public schools. I should revisit his second book, Teacher Man, to refresh my memory and learn from his. His book would also be useful as I prepare to pitch a pilot project that I’d like to launch in a New York public school in January. That’s the beauty of writing out our stories and lessons learned – they invariably help someone else down the line. Mr. McCourt is a wonderful example to illustrate that it’s never too late to tell your story; he published his first book, Angela’s Ashes, when he was 66. It won the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Critics Circle Award.

The Daily Good post got me thinking about all of the incredible teachers I’ve been fortunate to have all my life. Though I went to public school in a rural town in upstate New York, I had teachers who believed in me and inspired me every day. It is a rare gift, and I never took it for granted. I’ve been thinking lately that I should break out my stacks of stationery and write them all letters to thank them for giving their lives to help people like me.

I went on to attend two wonderful universities, also with a slate of brilliant and inspiring teachers. Through my life I’ve had a few constants – my mom and my cell phone number immediately come to mind. And I always had the benefit of excellent teachers.

Teachers don’t get enough credit or praise. Their hours are long and yet some people discount teaching as a profession because many have their summers off. In truth, they put in a whole lot of extra time over the 9 months when school is in session, much more time than a lot of people in corporate jobs.

When I worked at Rollins College, Doc Rodgers, one of the theatre professors would joke that he was heading off to class to “shape young minds”. And while he always said it in jest, it’s absolutely true. Teachers take this responsibility of shaping young minds very seriously, and we should, too, by supporting them and thanking them for all that they’ve done and will continue to do on our behalf. Our futures depend on them.

The photo above is Frank McCourt in his New York City classroom.
art, books, dreams, love, relationships

My Year of Hopefulness – The Velveteen Rabbit

My friend, Eric, got married this weekend. He is one of my closest friends from business school, someone who got me through many tough assignments and helped keep me sane. We also had a lot of fun together. I’m so happy that he found someone as wonderful as he is and that they’ve started their lives together.

The one reading that he and his new wife, Daphne, had at their wedding is from The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams. The quote considers the very pertinent question “What does it mean to be real?”

“What is REAL?” asked the Rabbit one day…

“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.”

“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.

“Sometimes. When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”

“Does it happen all at once or bit by bit?”

“It doesn’t happen all at once. You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

It is the perfect allegory for starting a relationship with someone that is based on love, and therefore the perfect reading for a wedding. It’s also the perfect thing to consider for our lives in general. Our lives, from beginning to end, are based on the art of becoming.

As we grow older we develop new interests and relationships and dreams. Some we accomplish, others die away without coming to fruition for one reason or another, and still others have yet to be found. The end process of becoming is to be real. Authentically, imperfectly, beautifully an individual who will never be replicated nor replaced.

The process of becoming takes patience, with ourselves and with others. It can’t be rushed. We can’t skip to the end to see how it turns out. We can’t work backwards and engineer our way into the best possible ending. It can only be created forward. There will be unexpected instances that must be folded into the process, some will be welcome changes, strokes of luck and genius, and others may be painful and sad. They all matter and all contribute to the piece of art, the life, we get in the end.

Becoming real is not easy. It takes work and perseverance, compromise and sacrifice. And it requires that we take the long-view, always. There will be moments of great triumph and great loss. Those losses are the risks we take and the price we pay for actively living and participating in the world around us, the risks and price for becoming real. And those triumphs and happy moments, big and small, are what make it all worthwhile.

books, business, economy, free

My Year of Hopefulness – Getting to Free

This week, Chris Anderson, editor-in-chief of Wired, released his book Free: The Future of a Radical Price. Odd that given its title the cost of the book is $26.99. It might have been a good marketing angle to give the digital book away for free. That aside, his point is well taken. Consider all the ways in which the concept of free services and goods have infiltrated our society. Craig’s List, online news, Twitter, Facebook, Meet-up. Nearly all information on any topic anywhere on Earth is free. Google it. Bing it. Email an expert in the area you’re interested in, and chances are you’ll get a response.

This puts all of us as we consider our careers and accomplishments into a new frame of mind. What can I give away and what can I charge for? How long do I need to give things away before I see a return? What is the cost and benefit of free?

I’m at the very earliest stages of beginning a social enterprise. I’ve yet to spend a single penny on it, outside of the cost of my time. I’ve have friends who are experts in the field that the business is in, and I’ve solicited their feedback and gotten a lot of it, no charge beyond a heartfelt please and thank you. (I mean a very heartfelt thank you – the feedback has been really incredible!)

I’ve wanted to start my own venture for a while and the part that kept tripping me up was the pricing. How could I make money on these ideas? Chris Anderson’s book showed me that we have to develop a new way of thinking about how we earn our living and the companies we build. The answer was very simple once I looked at it from the free point-of-view. I can’t make money off of my idea, initially. Much of the value proposition for the enterprise relies on the services it offers being free. The money comes later when the services are rolled out to a wider, wealthier audience, perhaps through some speaking and writing engagement, or some incremental products that are developed as a result of the initial free service offerings.

The enterprise I’m interested in is in the education field so let’s consider an example whom I greatly admire, Sesame Street. When I woke up this morning and flipped on my TV, I had forgotten that the last channel I watched last night was Public TV 13. So it was a wonderful surprise to have Elmo pop up on my TV this morning. Sesame Street set out to be a free service to urban children in lower-income families. They wanted to use TV as a way to better prepare pre-schoolers for kindergarten. Joan Ganz Cooney and other early believers did a lot of the beginning work on Sesame Street for free. Eventually, they had sponsors and grants, and now of course have a full licensing unit, DVDs and books for sale, etc.

What the example of Sesame Street, and many other businesses that start out on the basis of free, shows us is that many start-ups require patient capital. Founders often need to keep a day job. Those first customers require a pro-bono project to help a new company build a portfolio. Writers, artists, musicians, and young academics often have to give away their work for free to get some early publicity. In the new economy, free is the best way upward and onward to profit.

So if you’re starting a new business, the first question we’d ask used to be “how can this generate money?” In the new economy, the first question may become something more like “how can we get people to try this product or service and then get them to tell many other people about it?” or “what can we give away for free in order to get people to buy an added product or service later?” The most exciting part of things being free is that it opens up the creativity valve for us. It requires new, innovative ideas. It frees us up from getting bogged down in the numbers too early on. It helps us keep our eye on the horizon ahead while also letting us make up the story as we go along.
books, dreams, insomnia, inspiration, New York City, opportunity, sleep

My Year of Hopefulness – Energy Level

“There is something in the New York air that makes sleep useless. Perhaps it is that the heart beats faster here than elsewhere.” ~ Simone de Beauvoir, America Day By Day

Spoken like a true insomniac. I don’t know for sure if Simone de Beauvoir had insomnia, though I do understand her sentiments about New York as she made her way across the U.S. in 1947. Her diary from that year long trek from one U.S. coast to the other became the book America Day by Day. Her first step that journey was off a plane and into New York.

There does seem to be an energy here in this city that I have not found in other places. Maybe it’s the subway rattling underneath the pavement or the soaring buildings that mask the city in a unique pattern of shade and light. I think though that it’s the people that are attracted to New York that give it its famous zing.

The trick to living here and staying sane is to take advantage of the energy while not wearing ourselves out, to find activities to fill our time that give us as much energy as they require. I’ve struggled with this idea at various times in my 11 year love affair with New York. While I’ve moved in and out of the city 4 times since first coming here in 1998, this last time I hit upon the magic combination: a stable income, lots of green space just outside more door, and confidence in who I am. I spend equal time with friends as I do alone. I found an activity I love, writing, that has nothing to do with how I pay my rent. All this combined has made for a magical life. Now all I need is a dog – and he’ll be arriving at my apartment this Fall.

Even when I wasn’t living here, New York was the center of my world. New York was really it for me. It always was; I just didn’t always know that. It’s the place where I feel most alive, where I feel most my true self. It’s the place where I can dream and imagine and wonder. It’s the place where I can appreciate and love the life I have, while also aspiring to be something more.

As it is with so many relationships, it took time away to realize what I had here in this tiny set of islands. New York is a place of constant improvement, continual opportunity, and hopeful exuberance. You really can be anyone here, all it takes is time and commitment and on occasion, a little patience. Lucky for us, Simone de Beauvoir was right: our need for sleep is less here, making accomplishment, and thereby happiness and fulfillment, all the more likely.

The photo above is the New York City skyline at night. You can find this photo at: http://nycwrites.org/yahoo_site_admin/assets/images/nyc_manhattan_night.183194354_std.jpg

books, choices, priorities, travel, writing

My Year of Hopefulness – 20-10

A lot of my friends are asking themselves weighty questions these days. I had brunch with a friend on Sunday who told me that someone we used to work worth just lost his mom to cancer. His mom was 58. It’s a sobering thought to consider how short life is, and how much opportunity for living this world offers us.

In the book In Pursuit of Elegance, Matt May talks about how Jim Collins left HP. One of his former professors gave him an assignment called “20-10”: Imagine you’ve just inherited $20M free and clear. The catch is you only have 10 years to live. What would you do – and more importantly, what would you stop doing? As a result of this exercise, he quit his job at HP, despite his success there, and pursued a life of teaching, researching, and writing. And we are the great benefactors of that choice.

This assignment takes great courage to complete, and even greater courage to put the results into action. It’s easy for us to think we have a long life ahead of us. It’s easy to think that we have all the time in the world to accomplish what we really want to do. It’s easy to just play the game of “let me just get by for now”. The trouble with that game is that for now very quickly turns into a long, long time. It might even turn into a lifetime.

This world is counting on us, on all of us, to do something truly extraordinary. And extraordinary can take many different forms, depending on our priorities. Depending on the outcome of our 20-10 assignment. I’ve been putting off this assignment for a solid week now. Too afraid to answer that simple question. $20M, 10 years. What would I do and what would I stop doing?

I would…
Travel
Have my family and friends close to me
Write and write and write, and read and read and read
I’d find a way to build a company or an organization around a product, service, or cause I care about, so that it would survive long, long, long after I’m gone
Fall in love one more time

I would stop…
Letting someone else tell me what my development plan is
Spending time in a gray cubicle
Worrying

A shorter list than I expected on both counts. I thought there was a lot I’d stop doing, until I realized that most of what I do that I don’t like doing is related to my worrying. I didn’t know that. I didn’t realize how afraid I was, of just living, until I wrote this list. I didn’t realize that falling in love one more time was so important to me. And it further confirmed that the writing life is the right life for me. When everything else fall away, it’s this act, this daily time translating my thoughts into words on a page that makes life worthwhile for me. And that is worth something – it’s actually worth everything.

The photo above depicts Jim Collins and can be found at: http://www.seeseeeye.com/uploads/wp_161.jpg

books, determination, movie, science

My Year of Hopefulness – The Transformative Power of Tenacity

“Let me tell you the secret that has led me to my goal: my strength lies solely in my tenacity.” ~Louis Pasteur

My friend, Laura, the author of Laura Reviews, recently posted an interview with Hugh MacLeod, author of Ignore Everybody and 39 Other Keys to Creativity. At the end of the interview, Laura asked him for his advice to writers. He simply said, “Keep doing it. It’s better to write 50 words every day, than 2,000 words every month.” In other words, keep going.

On Daily Good, a blog that promotes positive news stories, I read the quote above by Louis Pasteur. Pasteur is best known for the development of vaccines and the process of pasteurization. While he could attribute his vast scientific accomplishments to intelligence or creativity or even a variety of qualities, he credited his tenacity as the only key to his success. In other words, his achievements are due to his ability to keep going.

With all the rain falling in New York City lately, I’ve steadily been working my way through my Netflix cue. I rented We Are Marshall. It looked like a compelling story, and one I was unfamiliar with. After a tragic plane crash in which nearly the entire team, coaching staff, and many fans of Marshall University’s football team perish, the university considers deferring its program.

One of the four remaining players rallies the school’s students who stage a peaceful demonstration outside of the school’s board meeting as the board is deciding whether or not to defer the program. Every student at the university turns out, chanting one single saying, “We are Marshall.” After an exhaustive search to find a new coach, Jack Lengyel (then head coach of the football team at The College of Wooster) convinces Marshall to give him the job of head coach.

A grieving town, a spare number of players whose hearts and spirits were wracked with guilt, and a university suffering with a tremendous sense of loss and loneliness. That’s all Jack Lengyel had. And though the team had far from a winning season in 1971, the fact that they could rebuild any sense of spirit and win any games at all in the competitive arena of college football was nothing short of a miracle. They just wouldn’t take no for an answer, not matter how many obstacles they encountered. They kept going.

Tenacity pays. It obliterates challenges. It provides confidence to those who embrace it and inspires others who witness it in the spirit of others. So when we’re down or lost or we don’t know what to do with what we’ve got, the only way for us to get unstuck may be to just keep plowing through.

The image above can be found at: https://christaavampato.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/tenacity.jpg?w=300

art, books, music, silence, writing

My Year of Hopefulness – It’s what’s missing that counts

Today I started reading In Pursuit of Elegance by Matthew May. May’s premise in the book is that what’s not there – in a product, a service, a piece of art, a book – often trumps what is. 12 pages in and I am completely hooked. It’s about what we choose not to do that shapes as our lives as much as what’s on our to-do list. It’s about editing, making decisions, and taking away the unnecessary so that the necessary can shine.

May quotes a lot of sources, referencing everything from ancient Chinese proverbs to pop culture. It never feels contrived, forced, or overly ambitious. He is making connections between seemingly disparate ideas, and teaching us how to live a more valuable, satisfying life in the process.

Early on, May quotes Jim Collins’s now infamous essay that he wrote for USA Today on the subject of “stop-doing.” Collins says, “A great piece of art is composed not just of what is in the final piece, but equally what is not. It is the discipline to discard what does not fit – to cut out what might have already cost days or even years of effort – that distinguishes the truly exceptional artist and marks the ideal piece of work, be it a symphony, a novel, a painting, a company, or most important of all, a life.”

It’s these last two words that got me. I understand editing a novel, a piece of music, a company. We spend a lot of time, maybe most of our time, stuffing our lives full of experience, people, places, and things. We do more and more and more to the point that we can’t remember what we did 10 minutes ago. So what if we did and said less and less and less. What would our lives look like then? What if we only put the precious time we have with one another toward things that passionately, ardently interest us? How would we be different, and how would the world around us be different? Could we actually have a greater positive impact by focusing on the precious few things that really matter to us rather than the mediocre many?

Jazz great John McLaughlin said, “All the music that was ever heard came from the inner silence in every musician.” I extend that quote to say that every human accomplishment has come to be because someone took something from their inner being, from their own personal silence, and gave it to the world. It’s really the only work we ever have to do: strip away the fascades, the excess, what we can live without so that we can know and nurture the handful of things that really count.