The big garage sale was Saturday, and it was HUGE. We gave out maps with 26 homes marked on them, and other people were joining those sales, or putting stuff out to sell at their own houses. One street became jammed with traffic a couple of times. People made hundreds of dollars. Kids had lemonade stands, sold muffins and brownies, and played music to entertain customers. And, best of all, people got out of their houses and met their neighbors and had a lot of fun!
The day of the sale, I wanted to go shop at other people's sales, see how busy it was, and meet some of the people I'd been emailing with. So Dr. J agreed to man our sale while I ventured out.
My dad describes himself as "not a hale fellow well met," and that, you will not be surprised to hear, is a good description of me, too. First I went to a couple of sales of people I know a little, and they were so full of enthusiasm and so full of thanks and compliments, that I started to feel bolder about meeting some new people. So I would walk up to someone, and start off with "Hi, I'm [Mrs. Aitch]," and expect to segue into a mumbled explanation of who I am and why I was imposing on them by introducing myself, and they would break in to tell me how great it was to meet me, and how great the sale was, and how great the maps I made were, and how many customers they had had, etc. I felt like a rock star! And I would modestly imply that the weather was responsible for the turnout, and maybe tell them about how my kids were selling lemonade and then spending the money they earned buying the neighbors' toys, a story I found to be a real hit.
My confidence soared. By the end, I was encouraging people I'd never met to plan neighborhood events and offering to make web pages and flyers for them. And then I would say, "Well, I want to try to get to some more houses, so I'd better go." And we would say goodbye, and off I'd walk.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Sunday, June 24, 2012
How I am NOT like Rabbit
It was a Captainish sort of day, when everybody said, "Yes, Rabbit " and "No, Rabbit," and waited until he had told them.
--From The House at Pooh Corner by A. A. Milne
I didn't delegate enough with the 27+-family-garage sale, it turns out, now that I know what's involved. But I did delegate sign-making, and that was was extremely helpful, but also very hard for me. My friend L, who runs her own business and has a very different personality than me, told me, "People like to be told what to do." Which is think is probably true, but, still, I had some concerns.
I asked three people via email to take charge of the signs. One, whom I had never met, had said when she signed up for the sale that she had some signs from a friend's sale we could use. We had a productive exchange about signs in which I tried to subtly suggest she might be a good person to help work on signs. The other two I had met, but one, when volunteering to help with the signs, made it clear that although she wanted to help, she lacked all confidence in her artistic ability, and so might be best at putting them up. The third is a working mom who spends a ton of time and energy on her kids and her local extended family. She offered to help, though, and she is just the kind of clear, direct, and just person you want to work with, so I took her up on it.
I finally decided to ask them if they would form a team and take over the sign project, even though I didn't know if any of them knew each other. So I sent the email, and then left town for a few days. And this is what I did while I was away:
- I worried that they were mad that I was being so bossy.
- I worried that they were thinking I should have just done the signs myself.
- I worried that they had not all gotten in contact with each other.
- I worried that they had gotten in contact with each other, but were all angry at each other and not getting along.
- I worried there would be no signs/few signs/small signs/etc. when I got back.
- I wondered if I should email to check up on them and how I would do that without sounding even bossier.
Of course, you know what happened. I came back from my trip to find lovely, giant, clear, durable signs at key points around the neighborhood, and immediately I started receiving compliments on them, which I happily passed on to the awesome sign team. As much as I hated asking them to do it, I was thrilled to be able to tell them what a great job everyone thought they were doing.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
How I am Like Piglet
"But Piglet wasn't listening, he was so agog at the thought of seeing Christopher Robin's blue braces [suspenders] again. He had only seen them once before, when he was much younger, and being a little over-excited by them, had had to go to bed half an hour earlier than usual; and he had always wondered since if they were really as blue and as bracing as he had thought them. " -- from The House at Pooh Corner, by A.A. Milne
The neighborhood garage sale is Saturday (I have been spending a lot of time on organizing this event; that and the fact that school ended has left me with little time to blog). About a month ago, I sent out my first email to all the people who had signed up--seventeen people at that point. I sent it one night right before bed, and the next morning checked my email eagerly and a little apprehensively to see if anyone had responded. No one had, but I discovered that a) I had gotten someone's email wrong; and b) I sent everyone a PDF of a blank sheet rather than the flyer I was trying to send.
I quickly re-sent the email with an apology and actual flyer, and by the time I had sent it, I had gotten this response to my original email:
Awesome organization! Thanks for making this so easy :).A few minutes later, my husband got out of the bathroom, where he had been checking his email (come on, you know you do it, too!) and came looking for me. He found me laying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He asked me if I had seen the nice response. "Yes." I said, "That's why I had to lay down. I'm having a Piglet moment."
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Pot Luck
After the bread challenge and trying to start this neighborhood group, I suddenly realized it was time to do something that I am so very comfortable doing: having a party.
Now, when I say I'm comfortable having a party, this might give you the wrong impression. Here is the kind of party I love to give, and have since forever. Invite a bunch of people over (one might even say...too many people), ask everyone to bring something to eat, stress the fact that it's very casual, and try to set everyone's expectations very low. The key is that everyone I invite is really nice, and I have to make a point to keep the preparations simple, simple, simple.
Then people arrive, and the party has itself while I float around in a succession of half-finished interrupted conversations. And here's what always happens. It happened in Austin when I was single. And it happened the other day with neighborhood families: everyone is really pleased and friendly and wants to get to know each other, and they eat and chat and figure out who they know in common, and have a great time.
And I know everyone, at least a little, and like everyone, and don't really get to talk to anyone, but I just bask in the warm glow of a developing network of friends.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Your Fearful Leader
I like to tell my kids the thing about how being brave doesn't mean that you're not afraid of something. Being brave is about being scared...but doing the thing anyway.
Things are progressing with the neighborhood group and the associated neighborhood garage sale. I and a few helpers put about 250 flyers into and onto and around mailboxes last week, telling everyone about both the group and the sale. The group is now up to almost 25 members (hey! that's, like, 10%!) and I think 16 people have signed up to participate in the sale, and it sounds like more are planning to, but haven't signed up yet. Which is all really exciting!
Passing out flyers was a little wonderful and a little horrible. The weather, most of the times we were out, was gorgeous. When I was with my gregarious friend, L, she talked to everyone who was out in their yards and met new people and got people excited about the group and the sale. When it was just me or me and Dr. Jay, we would nudge each other, "Hey, go talk to that person!" "No, you go talk to them."
I worried that the flyers would blow away and everyone would be mad at me for messing up the neighborhood. I worried that the mail carrier would give us a ticket for putting things in mailboxes. I worried that people would think I was selling something. I imagined that people would think I was a young hippie mom, dragging my kids around to get paid a few dollars by some stupid company trying to sell them something they didn't want. I imagined that a lot. (Not that I have anything against young hippie moms. I just have a terror of being misunderstood or misread or misjudged. Which is a story for another post...maybe.)
But I got through, and at the end, I felt like I knew the neighborhood better, even the parts I never go to because they're not on my way anywhere. And the few people I talked to were very nice. And then people started signing up, little by little.
In A Short History of Nearly Everything, one of my absolute favorite books, which I keep listening to over and over on audiobook, Bill Bryson talks about Max Planck, and how he learned, after doing much work on entropy, that someone else had already done the same work but published it in an obscure source. After describing this, the next paragraph starts: "Undaunted--well, perhaps mildly daunted--Planck turned to other matters."
I have been daunted by this neighborhood group project. But I have to remember that many people eventually succeed with something, despite being daunted along the way. But they keep going, and then, someday, someone looks back and says they continued, undaunted.
Things are progressing with the neighborhood group and the associated neighborhood garage sale. I and a few helpers put about 250 flyers into and onto and around mailboxes last week, telling everyone about both the group and the sale. The group is now up to almost 25 members (hey! that's, like, 10%!) and I think 16 people have signed up to participate in the sale, and it sounds like more are planning to, but haven't signed up yet. Which is all really exciting!
Passing out flyers was a little wonderful and a little horrible. The weather, most of the times we were out, was gorgeous. When I was with my gregarious friend, L, she talked to everyone who was out in their yards and met new people and got people excited about the group and the sale. When it was just me or me and Dr. Jay, we would nudge each other, "Hey, go talk to that person!" "No, you go talk to them."
I worried that the flyers would blow away and everyone would be mad at me for messing up the neighborhood. I worried that the mail carrier would give us a ticket for putting things in mailboxes. I worried that people would think I was selling something. I imagined that people would think I was a young hippie mom, dragging my kids around to get paid a few dollars by some stupid company trying to sell them something they didn't want. I imagined that a lot. (Not that I have anything against young hippie moms. I just have a terror of being misunderstood or misread or misjudged. Which is a story for another post...maybe.)
But I got through, and at the end, I felt like I knew the neighborhood better, even the parts I never go to because they're not on my way anywhere. And the few people I talked to were very nice. And then people started signing up, little by little.
In A Short History of Nearly Everything, one of my absolute favorite books, which I keep listening to over and over on audiobook, Bill Bryson talks about Max Planck, and how he learned, after doing much work on entropy, that someone else had already done the same work but published it in an obscure source. After describing this, the next paragraph starts: "Undaunted--well, perhaps mildly daunted--Planck turned to other matters."
I have been daunted by this neighborhood group project. But I have to remember that many people eventually succeed with something, despite being daunted along the way. But they keep going, and then, someday, someone looks back and says they continued, undaunted.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Generosity of Spirit
I have been going on and on about how my skin is so thin, I take everything personally, wah, it's so hard for me to put myself out there, my feelings are hurt, yadda, yadda, yadda.
I am on a committee at the kids' school to put on a fundraiser that includes a silent auction, so we need to find donations, and encourage people to attend, etc. There's another mom on the committee, who, like me, is showing up and trying to be helpful, despite maybe not having fundraising so much in her blood. She is a professor at the university near here, and came up with an idea that all the profs who are parents at the school (about 20 of them) could go in together on an ad for the program. They could all meet to have their picture taken somewhere on campus, and it would only be about $10/family, and that would give a bunch of people a fairly easy way to contribute and maybe help faculty parents meet each other and feel some connection. Sounds like my kind of idea.
So she sends out an email to twenty faculty. Ten respond and say they are interested; one responds and says he or she is not. So she sends out another email, to coordinate the next step of scheduling the photo, and only four of the ten respond. So now she's in a position of a picture of 5 people in the program, not really representative of anything, and the price has now gone up from $10 per family to $40 per family, and so she's going to have to email those four people, tell them this, and see if the still want to do it. She was very surprised and disappointed, and, I think, pretty hurt that she was trying to do something thoughtful and helpful and got so little response, when what she was suggesting would have involved so little investment from the people involved.
As she was talking about this, I just kept thinking, "I know how you feel! That's just how I feel about the neighborhood group!" But before I could begin to commiserate, Madge spoke up.
Madge is the development person at the school. It is her job to ask for money and donations and to get other people to do the same. When Madge addresses a group, she tells jokes, she warms up the crowd, she never uses notes, she is funny and engaging and gets her point across at the same time. And this is what she said: "Aw, that's frustrating. But I really believe that people are well-intentioned. We all let things slide, but it's not because we mean to. Except for a few actual duds out there, people mean well and want to help, but sometimes they just don't. For whatever reason, it just doesn't happen. They'll probably come up to you at the event, holding the program, and ask you if it's too late to participate!"
Later, there was discussion of a particular parent who had volunteered to help with something, but was basically MIA. Madge said, absolutely good-naturedly, "Yeah, every year she says she wants to help, but she just doesn't end up doing anything. And some people are just like that. And you just ask every year, and, who knows? Maybe this year is the year they'll do something."
She didn't take it personally. She didn't get angry. She just keeps trying things, sees what works, tries to put her energy toward the things that have the greatest return, but she never stops casting the net, seeing who wants to help or give, who will actually come through. And when I said that I was happy to streamline spreadsheets of contacts and send out letters, but that I didn't want to call anyone on the phone or visit any businesses to ask for donations, she didn't bat an eye. She is infinitely generous in her evaluation of other people's comfort zones, abilities, self-perceived abilites and limitations, forgetfulness, and general failure to do what they said they wanted or were going to do.
And generosity, you know, is maybe the number one thing that I think creates abundance. I mean, isn't it interesting that the same people who are uncomfortable putting themselves out there are often the same people who are quick to judge other people's non-action or neutral suggestion to be criticism? If I were more generous in my reading of others' actions, would I be in an atmosphere of abundance of spirit, where I would be less likely to assume other people are judging me harshly? Is this paucity of spirit a vicious circle that feeds on itself? And would more generosity of spirit lead to an abundance of spirit in my life, where maybe I would not see well-intentioned suggestions as angry criticism?
I am on a committee at the kids' school to put on a fundraiser that includes a silent auction, so we need to find donations, and encourage people to attend, etc. There's another mom on the committee, who, like me, is showing up and trying to be helpful, despite maybe not having fundraising so much in her blood. She is a professor at the university near here, and came up with an idea that all the profs who are parents at the school (about 20 of them) could go in together on an ad for the program. They could all meet to have their picture taken somewhere on campus, and it would only be about $10/family, and that would give a bunch of people a fairly easy way to contribute and maybe help faculty parents meet each other and feel some connection. Sounds like my kind of idea.
So she sends out an email to twenty faculty. Ten respond and say they are interested; one responds and says he or she is not. So she sends out another email, to coordinate the next step of scheduling the photo, and only four of the ten respond. So now she's in a position of a picture of 5 people in the program, not really representative of anything, and the price has now gone up from $10 per family to $40 per family, and so she's going to have to email those four people, tell them this, and see if the still want to do it. She was very surprised and disappointed, and, I think, pretty hurt that she was trying to do something thoughtful and helpful and got so little response, when what she was suggesting would have involved so little investment from the people involved.
As she was talking about this, I just kept thinking, "I know how you feel! That's just how I feel about the neighborhood group!" But before I could begin to commiserate, Madge spoke up.
Madge is the development person at the school. It is her job to ask for money and donations and to get other people to do the same. When Madge addresses a group, she tells jokes, she warms up the crowd, she never uses notes, she is funny and engaging and gets her point across at the same time. And this is what she said: "Aw, that's frustrating. But I really believe that people are well-intentioned. We all let things slide, but it's not because we mean to. Except for a few actual duds out there, people mean well and want to help, but sometimes they just don't. For whatever reason, it just doesn't happen. They'll probably come up to you at the event, holding the program, and ask you if it's too late to participate!"
Later, there was discussion of a particular parent who had volunteered to help with something, but was basically MIA. Madge said, absolutely good-naturedly, "Yeah, every year she says she wants to help, but she just doesn't end up doing anything. And some people are just like that. And you just ask every year, and, who knows? Maybe this year is the year they'll do something."
She didn't take it personally. She didn't get angry. She just keeps trying things, sees what works, tries to put her energy toward the things that have the greatest return, but she never stops casting the net, seeing who wants to help or give, who will actually come through. And when I said that I was happy to streamline spreadsheets of contacts and send out letters, but that I didn't want to call anyone on the phone or visit any businesses to ask for donations, she didn't bat an eye. She is infinitely generous in her evaluation of other people's comfort zones, abilities, self-perceived abilites and limitations, forgetfulness, and general failure to do what they said they wanted or were going to do.
And generosity, you know, is maybe the number one thing that I think creates abundance. I mean, isn't it interesting that the same people who are uncomfortable putting themselves out there are often the same people who are quick to judge other people's non-action or neutral suggestion to be criticism? If I were more generous in my reading of others' actions, would I be in an atmosphere of abundance of spirit, where I would be less likely to assume other people are judging me harshly? Is this paucity of spirit a vicious circle that feeds on itself? And would more generosity of spirit lead to an abundance of spirit in my life, where maybe I would not see well-intentioned suggestions as angry criticism?
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
"Constructive Criticism"
Hi. It's been a while since my last real post. Almost a month. For a couple of weeks that was because I was just busy with other things like a birthday party and an erupting volcano cake and visiting family. And then, for the last couple of weeks, it was because of a vacation to Canada, a child falling downstairs, and an associated stay at a very nice hospital in Toronto. But here I am again, and things have settled down a little.
In my last real post (that wasn't someone else's cartoon) I was talking about putting myself out there and how uncomfortable I am with it and with trying to lead something, and how trying to start a neighborhood group is really putting me in touch with that.
I am trying to start this neighborhood group because I want to feel a sense of community. Because I want my kids to have friends to play with in the neighborhood. Because they say knowing your neighbors is one of the biggest things you can do to increase neighborhood safety. Because twenty years ago, everyone in the neighborhood knew each other, and I think it can be that kind of neighborhood again, despite that fact that it's now a mix of empty-nesters who are on the verge of retiring and younger families with little kids, with others thrown in here and there.
We moved here almost four years ago, and I have been waiting for someone else to start some kind of group. An email list serve, maybe, or a Facebook group. Where we can share information about the Verizon VOIP conversion, or the repaving of a road, or robberies in the area.
So finally, in February, heartened by getting to know a neighbor who seems like someone who can get things done, I suggested we start a group ourselves. She is very busy, runs her own company and takes care of her little kid, but she cheered me on, and I decided to go ahead and do it.
Now, the first part of the project was totally challenging me within my comfort zone. I tried out GoogleGroups, GoogleDocs, GoogleMaps, and GoogleSites. I made a website with a picture and a survey and a map, and a sign-up form that would automatically populate a spreadsheet that could later be available as the group directory. I got advice about neighborhood boundaries from a realtor friend, and advice about community building from another friend. It was a lot of work that I really didn't have time for, but it was fun, and Dr. J worked on it with me some, and it was the kind of thing I used to enjoy doing before I had kids. It was great.
And then it was time to "go live". And you may have read what happened over the first few days.
Now, I like to think that I am someone who knows how to benefit from constructive criticism. But as I have said before, I have the thinnest of skin, and once I am out of my comfort zone, putting myself out there, it does not get any thicker.
So over the first few weeks, in addition to two people leaving the day they joined because it was "not what I expected" and "I have a family to take care of," I got other feedback.
"The area is too big."
"These (waves hand, standing in front of her house) are my neighbors. I don't need to know all those other people."
"I think the area is just right."
"People are squeamish about putting information online these days." Yes, but the only required information is name and address, which are freely available on the county tax site!
"People don't want to get so many emails." This, for a group that so far has probably averaged less than 2 messages per week. I mentioned the digest option where you can get all of each day's emails, if any, combined into a single email. "One email per day is too many. I mean, from my friends, yes. But not from every Tom, Dick, and Harry."
"I personally thought that the boundary of the neighborhood is too wide to start the group. Why don't we just start with [four streets] then expand it in the future? Actually, the apartment buildings over behind the shopping center may need this kind of connection also." So...it should be smaller, and not include the whole official neighborhood, but we should then add all the people in the apartment buildings on the next block who aren't technically in our neighborhood and who are bound to have different concerns, since they are not homeowners anyway?
"I think the boundary of the group is just fine."
I suddenly had great sympathy for people who go into public office. I'm sure most of them do it because they want to do good and help people (whatever their political views). And then, everyone is mad at you because you aren't doing things the way people think you should be and/or acting like you are purposely trying to ruin their lives by trying to do right by everyone.
To be fair, those quotes above came from just a small handful of well-meaning friends, none of them mad at me. But every single not 100% approving comment or suggestion gets under my (as I have admitted, very, very thin) skin and tortures me. I feel as if the person is mad at me. As if EVERYONE is mad at me.
And then I just want to hide.
In my last real post (that wasn't someone else's cartoon) I was talking about putting myself out there and how uncomfortable I am with it and with trying to lead something, and how trying to start a neighborhood group is really putting me in touch with that.
I am trying to start this neighborhood group because I want to feel a sense of community. Because I want my kids to have friends to play with in the neighborhood. Because they say knowing your neighbors is one of the biggest things you can do to increase neighborhood safety. Because twenty years ago, everyone in the neighborhood knew each other, and I think it can be that kind of neighborhood again, despite that fact that it's now a mix of empty-nesters who are on the verge of retiring and younger families with little kids, with others thrown in here and there.
We moved here almost four years ago, and I have been waiting for someone else to start some kind of group. An email list serve, maybe, or a Facebook group. Where we can share information about the Verizon VOIP conversion, or the repaving of a road, or robberies in the area.
So finally, in February, heartened by getting to know a neighbor who seems like someone who can get things done, I suggested we start a group ourselves. She is very busy, runs her own company and takes care of her little kid, but she cheered me on, and I decided to go ahead and do it.
Now, the first part of the project was totally challenging me within my comfort zone. I tried out GoogleGroups, GoogleDocs, GoogleMaps, and GoogleSites. I made a website with a picture and a survey and a map, and a sign-up form that would automatically populate a spreadsheet that could later be available as the group directory. I got advice about neighborhood boundaries from a realtor friend, and advice about community building from another friend. It was a lot of work that I really didn't have time for, but it was fun, and Dr. J worked on it with me some, and it was the kind of thing I used to enjoy doing before I had kids. It was great.
And then it was time to "go live". And you may have read what happened over the first few days.
Now, I like to think that I am someone who knows how to benefit from constructive criticism. But as I have said before, I have the thinnest of skin, and once I am out of my comfort zone, putting myself out there, it does not get any thicker.
So over the first few weeks, in addition to two people leaving the day they joined because it was "not what I expected" and "I have a family to take care of," I got other feedback.
"These (waves hand, standing in front of her house) are my neighbors. I don't need to know all those other people."
"I think the area is just right."
"People are squeamish about putting information online these days." Yes, but the only required information is name and address, which are freely available on the county tax site!
"People don't want to get so many emails." This, for a group that so far has probably averaged less than 2 messages per week. I mentioned the digest option where you can get all of each day's emails, if any, combined into a single email. "One email per day is too many. I mean, from my friends, yes. But not from every Tom, Dick, and Harry."
"I only want to get messages about topics that interest me. Can you change it so that I only get emails I'm interested in?" Uh, no. Actually, I can't. Google didn't design their Groups that way, and it turns out that hacking GoogleGroups is beyond my area of expertise. She then went on to suggest that I talk to a neighbor who is a professor of IT, who has expressed not a shred of interest in the group, because maybe he could fix it.
"I personally thought that the boundary of the neighborhood is too wide to start the group. Why don't we just start with [four streets] then expand it in the future? Actually, the apartment buildings over behind the shopping center may need this kind of connection also." So...it should be smaller, and not include the whole official neighborhood, but we should then add all the people in the apartment buildings on the next block who aren't technically in our neighborhood and who are bound to have different concerns, since they are not homeowners anyway?
I suddenly had great sympathy for people who go into public office. I'm sure most of them do it because they want to do good and help people (whatever their political views). And then, everyone is mad at you because you aren't doing things the way people think you should be and/or acting like you are purposely trying to ruin their lives by trying to do right by everyone.
To be fair, those quotes above came from just a small handful of well-meaning friends, none of them mad at me. But every single not 100% approving comment or suggestion gets under my (as I have admitted, very, very thin) skin and tortures me. I feel as if the person is mad at me. As if EVERYONE is mad at me.
And then I just want to hide.
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