Turns out, parenting and leading in an organization aren’t too different from one another. What people need is a psychologically safe space to show up, try their best, and fail forward.
The other day a lady asked me why I thought staffing is so difficult these days. It wasn’t this bad before the pandemic. Do people just not want to work? I tried to gracefully exit with a comment about affordable housing and childcare, but I wanted to shake her and scream a million people have died. There are a million fewer of us now.
And just like that, the kids are back in school. One particularly sweet moment from yesterday… Ames taking flowers to his teachers, just like his big brothers used to do. Time is an illusion and sometimes, a thief.
Voting is perhaps one of the most magical, fulfilling, intense emotional community experiences I’ve had as an adult. At any point in time, I can flash back to fond memories.
I can remember the feeling of the fall breeze at my first college campus, as my roommate and I nervously giggled and shoved heavy absentee ballot envelopes into the box.
I can remember times I’ve painstakingly confirmed my voting location, only to arrive at the wrong place and receive helpful instructions from a kind and patient poll worker. It happened when I was new to the civic duty game, and it happened again tonight.
I can remember the man standing out in the rain, quietly holding the sign of the guy he thought may lead us to new and better places. I can remember standing in line as a tired young mom on food stamps, baby on my back and hope in my heart. I can remember the girl snacking in the back of her Subaru as if at a picnic, wearing blunt bangs and funky nose ring.
I have voted with my gut, and with my conscience, and with the masses. I have voted Republican and Democrat and Independent and Nonpartisan and Undeclared. I’ve tried to split the vote before, and I’ve been frustrated the vote gets split.
I do not believe a vote is thrown away unless it is not cast. To use my voice and exercise my right has become one of the most cherished honors of my life. Let freedom ring.
The breakout from my N95 lasted longer than the worst of our COVID-19 outbreak… we’re down to only one resident on isolation! Everyone is alive! RIP to my chin, though.
With my husband doing his photography thing so often and so well, I find myself taking fewer photos. Today, for example, we hiked to a glacier — a glacier! — and these are the only photos I got. Oh, well. It was fun and not to flex, but… we can see the glacier from our house.
Today we cleaned up the veggies and herbs that never fully came to be this summer, admitting aloud that up here in Alaska, we prefer growing flowers to food. We also meandered through the market and bought others’ hard work, and sat by the sea with fresh oysters, and walked to watch our children perform at the local theater, and shared gelato with our neighbors, and wondered aloud at this marvelous town in which we’ve landed.
