I hope you will forgive me a little self promotion. The project on which I spent the better part of last year is now at a book store near you! (The project on which I spent the better part of *this* year is sitting on my lap, drooling...) I worked with business consultant Chuck Coonradt and publisher Gibbs Smith to create a new business book about leadership. I was the ghost writer -- meaning Chuck had the brilliant ideas and I had the brilliant articulation of those ideas. The result is "The Better People Leader," an excellent (if I do say so myself) little book about how to do better for your people. It is also a companion volume to another of Chuck's books, "The Game of Work."
I would be honored if you found an opportunity to get ten copies for your personal library. =) I would be also honored if those of you associated with blogs or publications found an opportunity to mention the book and extol its virtues.
But most of all, I would be honored if you found the book helpful in your own roles as leaders of people.
Thanks for indulging me this self promo! (It is my blog and my book; I guess I'm allowed to mention it.... =)
Online at Amazon and Barnes & Noble:
http://search.barnesandnoble.com/booksearch/isbnInquiry.asp?z=y&EAN=9781423601586&itm=1
http://www.amazon.com/Better-People-Leader-Charles-Coonradt/dp/1423601580/ref=sr_1_1/104-3413640-3801516?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1187812698&sr=1-1
Saturday, November 03, 2007
Friday, November 02, 2007
The Spirit of Service
Why is it that disasters bring out the best of us? Why don't we give the best of us when there is not disaster? I am pondering this point in the wake of the California wildfires. With more than 2,000 homes completely destroyed and countless more damaged, it is truly heartwarming to see neighbor helping neighbor, stranger helping stranger. As I've watched the news, I've seen many stories of many grateful people who tell of the kindnesses of friends, neighbors, firefighters, and strangers amidst their grief.
You see the "rally" attitude again and again. After Hurricane Katrina, Hurricane Andrew, the tsunami, the fires. I know personally of church meetings in which the prepared sermon was set aside and the meeting was spent organizing efforts to feed, clothe, and shelter disaster victims. Donations flood the Red Cross and other relief agencies. People set aside selfishness and biases to help a neighbor in need.
I love that spirit of service, and I'm so glad it still exists and can be called upon in times of need. It makes me proud to be part of our society.
I feel sad, however, that it seems to come out only in the most dire of circumstances. I'm glad the sense of rallying around our neighbor still exists and emerges when most needed. But I hope it doesn't lie dormant the rest of the time. I hope it emerges for even small scale needs, like when a neighbor could use help raking leaves or shoveling snow. I hope it emerges when a neighbor has a new baby or loses a loved one. I hope it emerges when someone's child struggles in school or struggles socially. I hope that spirit of rallying isn't dormant at all, but is exercised daily and weekly in our small spheres of influence. Then the "service" muscles will be strong and up to the task when the need is in a bigger sphere.
You see the "rally" attitude again and again. After Hurricane Katrina, Hurricane Andrew, the tsunami, the fires. I know personally of church meetings in which the prepared sermon was set aside and the meeting was spent organizing efforts to feed, clothe, and shelter disaster victims. Donations flood the Red Cross and other relief agencies. People set aside selfishness and biases to help a neighbor in need.
I love that spirit of service, and I'm so glad it still exists and can be called upon in times of need. It makes me proud to be part of our society.
I feel sad, however, that it seems to come out only in the most dire of circumstances. I'm glad the sense of rallying around our neighbor still exists and emerges when most needed. But I hope it doesn't lie dormant the rest of the time. I hope it emerges for even small scale needs, like when a neighbor could use help raking leaves or shoveling snow. I hope it emerges when a neighbor has a new baby or loses a loved one. I hope it emerges when someone's child struggles in school or struggles socially. I hope that spirit of rallying isn't dormant at all, but is exercised daily and weekly in our small spheres of influence. Then the "service" muscles will be strong and up to the task when the need is in a bigger sphere.
Friday, January 19, 2007
Stupid Sports
It used to really bug me when my dad would come home from work, plop down in his chair, and watch sports for the rest of the night. It seemed to my young eyes that the rest of us were running around the house all evening doing dishes, working on homework, getting yelled at by our exhausted mother for leaving our junk everywhere.
And my dad watched sports. I don’t want to make it sound like my father was lazy, because that’s jut false. He broke his back at work, and he worked hard taking care of our yard and our cars at home. But the fascination with sports kind of torqued me.
Until my dad met the man who would become my husband. You never quite know what to say when you are meeting your daughter’s boyfriend for the first time. And in my long history of catch and release, my poor father met many boyfriends for the first time. So you default to the universal questions: What do you do? Where are you from? Where did you go to school? What do you think about the (fill in the blank with any local sports team)? And while the “what do you do” and “where are you from” questions may have generated some idle conversation, the sports question was always the kicker.
With the catch who I finally kept, I watched my dad take him to sports in the first 30 seconds of meeting him, and there they have stayed—and there they have bonded. Today not a conversation goes by that they don’t debate the finer points of this team or that. Dad has come to our house on several occasions to watch “the big game,” and if they watched it separately they are sure to compare notes later. If there’s nothing else to talk about under the sun, they always have sports.
I also observed this with my husband and his own father. When my husband and I met, his father was in the middle of fight with cancer. Discussions of doctors and medications and logistics of care-giving dominated family conversations. But when it was one-on-one with Dad T., inevitably a game was on the television and the conversation revolved around sports. I often observed my husband and his brothers sitting down next to their dad and asking what the score was. They would talk about this quarterback or that running back or who had to win what to advance in the standings. They didn’t dwell on medication or doctors, they dwelt on March Madness and bowl games.
And because of that, they always had something to say. Right up to the end when the battle was almost lost, there was still a golf tournament or a tennis match or a baseball game to analyze and get animated over. The conversation didn’t have to be about another surgery or the possibility of hospice care. It could be about basketball.
I’ve always been on the outside of these conversations. I don’t know much about golf or tennis. But I’ve learned to love what sports has done for my husband’s relationship with my dad and what it did for his relationship with his dad. And I look forward to what it will do with my husband’s relationship with our children. I probably won’t condone watching sports all evening after work every day, but I will better understand what that passion can do for our family.
And my dad watched sports. I don’t want to make it sound like my father was lazy, because that’s jut false. He broke his back at work, and he worked hard taking care of our yard and our cars at home. But the fascination with sports kind of torqued me.
Until my dad met the man who would become my husband. You never quite know what to say when you are meeting your daughter’s boyfriend for the first time. And in my long history of catch and release, my poor father met many boyfriends for the first time. So you default to the universal questions: What do you do? Where are you from? Where did you go to school? What do you think about the (fill in the blank with any local sports team)? And while the “what do you do” and “where are you from” questions may have generated some idle conversation, the sports question was always the kicker.
With the catch who I finally kept, I watched my dad take him to sports in the first 30 seconds of meeting him, and there they have stayed—and there they have bonded. Today not a conversation goes by that they don’t debate the finer points of this team or that. Dad has come to our house on several occasions to watch “the big game,” and if they watched it separately they are sure to compare notes later. If there’s nothing else to talk about under the sun, they always have sports.
I also observed this with my husband and his own father. When my husband and I met, his father was in the middle of fight with cancer. Discussions of doctors and medications and logistics of care-giving dominated family conversations. But when it was one-on-one with Dad T., inevitably a game was on the television and the conversation revolved around sports. I often observed my husband and his brothers sitting down next to their dad and asking what the score was. They would talk about this quarterback or that running back or who had to win what to advance in the standings. They didn’t dwell on medication or doctors, they dwelt on March Madness and bowl games.
And because of that, they always had something to say. Right up to the end when the battle was almost lost, there was still a golf tournament or a tennis match or a baseball game to analyze and get animated over. The conversation didn’t have to be about another surgery or the possibility of hospice care. It could be about basketball.
I’ve always been on the outside of these conversations. I don’t know much about golf or tennis. But I’ve learned to love what sports has done for my husband’s relationship with my dad and what it did for his relationship with his dad. And I look forward to what it will do with my husband’s relationship with our children. I probably won’t condone watching sports all evening after work every day, but I will better understand what that passion can do for our family.
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