Community

You are currently browsing the archive for the Community category.

tour_1Twitter is a genius tool for building your personal brand.

The downside, it seems, is that a whole mess of people can’t figure out what to say on it, which leads to a never-ending stream of articles on how to use the tool — which are then posted on Twitter.

Twitter users struggle with what sort of comment is OK (”Do I mention that my cat barfed on the sofa this morning? Or will that tarnish my professional image?”), how to get their tweets retweeted, how to manage a swelling Twitter feed, what to say, what not to say, and on and on.

A lot of the answers have their roots in the Rules of Real-Life Conversation. Just ask manners doyenne Letitia Baldrige.

Letitia Baldrige (courtesy of the J.F.K. Library)

Letitia Baldrige (courtesy of the J.F.K. Library)

I doubt Tish even knows what Twitter is, but recently she and I were having lunch at Four Seasons and talking about how to be gracious in real life, and we kept circling back to the fact that, ultimately, it’s mostly about connecting with your community. (And isn’t that what Twitter is about?)

A little background: Letitia is best known as Jackie Kennedy’s social secretary and chief of staff during the White House years. But she has also been a lot of other things, such as the first female executive at Tiffany & Co. and a special assistant to Ambassador Clare Boothe Luce in Rome.

So, what can we learn about using Twitter from someone who grew up during the Depression? As it turns out, plenty.

Here’s how to be conversationally gracious, whether you’re doing it on Twitter or IRL (in real life):

Invite someone over. On Twitter, it looks like this: Right now Kirtsy is inviting folks to come to their deliciously free Hands On Kirtsy sessions across the U.S. And Pamela Slim, author of Escape From Cubicle Nation is tweeting about a free coaching call she’s offering today.

In real life, obviously, you can simply invite someone to your home. “We don’t entertain enough,” Tish says. “Just having somebody over for a hamburger is a gift.

“I lived in a home where my parents had people over all the time — even in the ’30s when my father was a flat-broke, young lawyer, being paid in eggs and chickens.”

Give a compliment. Retweeting is an easy way to make someone feel fascinating. You also see Twitter users giving shout-outs to one another for great blog posts or other achievements.

In real life, Tish says, we should deliver unexpected, uplifting messages. And she realizes that most of us are going to do this via email, rather than in person. She suggests this as an example: “You didn’t see me, but I saw you on the street today. I’ve never seen anyone bounce back from an operation so beautifully. You looked terrific!”

“Those kind of messages — unexpected, undemanded — just make life worthwhile,” she says.

Make newcomers feel welcome. You see this all the time in Twitterland. “Welcome my friend @johndoe! He’s new to Twitter.”

Tish believes people used to be better at this in her day (the ’30s and ’40s). Her theory: Parents have gotten lax about teaching and enforcing manners. When she was a child, her parents made Tish and her two siblings sit in the room with the grownups who came over for cocktails, and to chit-chat with them for 30 minutes.

“In the beginning it was tiresome and horrible, and then we started to really look forward to it. Except for having to get dressed up properly.

“That’s graciousness. It’s the way of saying hello to people, the way of greeting them, the way of picking out of the room the person who’s alone and having a tough time, who is obviously shy and just hating every minute, and going over and saying a couple of sentences. That person will be able to get through the whole party because of that little gesture on the part of the person who feels secure at that moment.”

Listen. “We’ve got to start listening,” says Tish, and at this point she’s ranting over our salads at the Four Seasons. “Not to our iPods and our BlackBerrys and our Raspberrys and Blueberrys. But to each other. Be interested in something other than yourself.”

Social media should be two-way. Too many times, it sounds like a bunch of people shouting from their desktops. But gracious Twitter conversation is about taking time to weigh in, when someone asks a question or needs help, or simply commiserating with someone who’s having a tough day.

Here’s one of Tish’s “back in the day” stories that resonated with me:

“During World War II, I remember there was a widow in northwest Washington, who had two stars on the flag hanging in her front window. That means you’ve lost two children. Then one day there were three stars on the flag. And people noticed it, and they went up and rang the doorbell. I remember that time. This was just a lady in northwest Washington, a nobody in a row house. But the flag. They noticed the flag, the people who walked to work every day. So they went up to pay their condolences to an absolute stranger.

“That’s the way we were.”

[P.S. For the record, I just heard from a mutual friend that Tish does, in fact, know what Twitter is.]

Tags: , , , , ,

My husband, Matt, spent 5 1/2 hours on Saturday working on the grounds of our daughter’s school. He and a robust group of about 15 parents moved an insane amount of mulch, installed bike racks and put in new plantings.

2004-detail-01The next morning, clipped to our mailbox, we found a sweet handwritten thank-you note from our friend Sabrina, who chairs the Grounds Committee for the school. Written on hefty card stock, with an impeccable hand, her note came as a welcome surprise. Who writes thank-you notes anymore? On actual note cards? And hand delivers them to your home? Within 24 hours of the thankable deed?

Matt volunteered his time because, to a certain extent, it’s his job as a parent to pitch in where he can. And the gratification came from knowing he’d made a difference to the school; we feel better about a place when it looks good. So he certainly didn’t expect or need an official thank you from the committee chair. Yet Sabrina’s gesture was so thoughtful and — frankly — uncommon in the age of email that you can bet Matt will sign up to help next time Sabrina asks for it.

Imagine that same scenario at the office. How many people get a handwritten “thank you” for doing the workplace equivalent of five hours of sweaty labor they didn’t have to do?

It’s high time we returned to the art of the handwritten note. Why?

  • It’s affordable. Budgets are strapped at work, so an old-fashioned thank-you note has become a low-cost retention tool for many managers trying to keep morale up. And handwriting a note works like a charm when you’re trying to stand apart, because practically no one does it.
  • It’s timeless. In the ’90s, I worked as an editor for etiquette expert Letitia Baldrige, who was Jackie Kennedy’s social secretary in the White House, and to her way of thinking, writing a thank you note and sending a bouquet of flowers were  crucial tools for one’s toolbox, then and now. Handwritten notes are not only gracious and de rigueur but a way of truly connecting with another human being — something she believes is slipping away in modern times.

I’m not sure I agree with her on that last part, but overall, I’d say she’s still completely right.

If you fear you don’t know how to pen a thank-you note, get a book, because concocting a good one does require a tiny bit of skill and effort. I have one called “On a Personal Note” that guides you through writing any kind of note you could possibly need. It’s like having a cheat sheet, since the authors even give you phrasing.

And invest in some decent cards. You can’t whip up a cake if you don’t have flour in the pantry, and you can’t send out a timely note if you don’t have cards. Pick out cards that are “you,” unless “you” is a photo of a kitten hanging from a branch.

Here’s further incentive: I just noticed that if you order cards from the so stylish Red Stamp, they send you free stationery with your order.

No need to send a thank-you note.

Tags: , , ,

The other night, I got a call from one of the matriarchs of my neighborhood. She’s one of those people whom everyone knows and respects, even when she’s got a bee in her bonnet about something and they disagree with her. She’s like the elementary school teacher you adored. Except that she uses the F word occasionally.

600px-no_signsvgAnyway, she called to ask me to co-chair the annual home tour. We live in a historic neighborhood, so when we do home tours, hundreds of people come and the neighborhood fills its coffers. Which allows it to do good deeds like donate to local schools and make park improvements.

But it’s a lot of work to organize this thing — creating a guide book, selling ads, recruiting dozens of volunteers, doing PR, planning an after-party, and on and on.

On the plus side, it’s a good way to meet people you wouldn’t otherwise meet, which I’m a fan of. And it’s a leadership opportunity. Ever since I quit my job as an editorial manager to have kids, that opportunity doesn’t present itself so often. And, as I said, it does allow the neighborhood to do more good deeds.

So I said yes. But then I thought about it some more. I realized that I’ve fallen victim to saying yes a lot in the past few years. Sometimes my volunteering keeps me so busy, my paying work gets pushed to the evenings and weekends, which is nuts, given how stressed-out I am about being a freelancer in this economy. Or I’ll volunteer to do something at my daughter’s school, and while the other parents are actually enjoying the event with their children, I’m walking around with a clipboard organizing things.

And I started wondering, “Why do I keep doing this? Why is it so hard for me to say no?”

My gut told me that I have zero time to co-chair a home tour right now, so I quickly emailed my neighborhood friend and said “thank you very much, incredibly honored to have been asked, but no.” It felt surprisingly good. Then I thought about how I could say no more often.

Forget about “worthy.” I’ve often volunteered because something seemed worthy and I thought no one else would step up to do it. Like co-chairing the home tour or leading fundraisers for my daughter’s school. But the list of worthy things is long. Not even Gandhi could tackle them all. “Worthy” can’t be reason enough to say yes.

Focus on what matters now. For every volunteer stint, I have to think, “Does this align with my other interests?” For example, I write about parenting, my children are currently in school, and I’d love to find more work opportunities around education. So the volunteer work I do as a precinct captain for Kids Voting makes sense. I’m also excited about the Slow Food movement, so the Edible Schoolyard project I’m working on for my daughter’s school? It stays on my to-do list.

You’ve heard the saying, “You can do it all, you just can’t do it all at the same time.” It’s like that. Pick and choose volunteer work that integrates well with your life the way it is now. Say no to the rest.

Say “yes, but.” At work, if someone asked you to do something you knew you couldn’t accomplish within the time frame, you’d speak up. You’d ask your boss to reprioritize the tasks or you’d propose an alternate timeline (unless you’re addicted to being busy). So when a volunteer job is going to interfere with doing other things that need to take priority — like spending time with my kids or hitting my work deadlines — I need to set limits. Otherwise, it’s self-sabotage.

When I called back my home-tour friend, for example, I offered to come to the first two meetings to “download” my institutional knowledge and help sketch out the big picture.

I’ve started thinking about my volunteer work the same way I think about my freelance work. That is, I need to manage it, rather than react to it. So that next time a worthy cause comes knocking — staring up at me like a wet, straggly dog on my doorstep — I won’t instinctively say yes.

Tags: , , , ,

Maybe it’s because we’ve felt the premature hints of spring recently, or maybe it’s because my spending habits have been immobilized by the recession for too long now. Whatever the reason, I’ve been breathless over store displays lately, particularly ones that have trotted out their spring colors.

First, these A-line girls’ skirts, made by my friend Lizzy.

il_430xn57451653Lizzy’s one of those people who is mega-talented with a needle and thread but you’d almost never know it, unless you happen to show up at our neighborhood park for the Halloween parade and see the crazy-elaborate costumes she’s sewn for her daughters. She’s absurdly modest.

Here’s part of the bio from her Etsy profile page:

“For years I worked on set and in costume studios making, altering, shopping for, caring for, distressing and destroying all things apparel. I’ve made slacks for Brad Pitt and I’ve remade bras for Tyra Banks. I’ve dyed for Winona Ryder and I survived The Sopranos and now I’m making stuff from home.”

Next, these caramel-filled, chocolate-covered robin’s eggs at Parker & Otis. Like Jordan Almonds, they fit dreamily against the tongue, and the caramel filling is something unexpected. These are definitely going in the adult Easter baskets.

robins-eggs

Also from Parker & Otis, some relish. Comes in hot or mild, and if you’re a person who likes a pickled cucumber now and again, this jar would love to introduce itself to you. P&O owner Jennings Brody told me exactly how to use it: Grill a 98% fat-free turkey burger, top it with P&O’s pimento cheese and this relish. It’s a life-changer.

relish

Finally, something from Dolly’s Vintage. I bought a set of these one-of-a-kind hair clips for my daughter today. Just lovely, and they actually work. And at $10ish, they’re the perfect recessionary-ready splurge.

barrettes

Tags: , , , ,

Today someone reminded me of this piece, written for Education.com, so I decided to post it. It touches on three things I’m positively exuberant (and borderline obsessive) about — kids’ education, community and civic engagement. If we all put little more energy put into any of those three, we’d have a much better world on our hands. …

Poll your kids on whether to have pizza or Veggie Delight for dinner, and you’ll likely see a swift show of hands. Kids are capable of weighing in on much meatier matters, though. By encouraging children to be good citizens now, children are more likely to grow into adult voters. And not just warm bodies at the polls, but informed, engaged voters. In other words, good citizens.

My older daughter at the Kids Voting booth

My older daughter at the Kids Voting booth

To raise a good citizen of your own, try these ideas:

Bring democracy to your dining room table. Illustrate the power of voting by asking younger kids, “Have you and your friends ever had to make a decision about something that was hard to agree on? Well, voting is a fair way to make decisions.” Then take a vote on something – like what activity to do next.

Engage older kids in political debate by talking about issues that interest them – like making college more affordable, raising the minimum wage, or lowering the legal voting age. Then help them turn passion into action by writing a letter to the editor or volunteering for a campaign.

Make community service a must. You don’t have to save snow leopards in Nepal to show your children the value of giving back. Doing good in your own backyard fosters civic engagement, not to mention a deeper sense of connection to the community. Volunteer to stock shelves at a soup kitchen or clean up a local river. Get more ideas at The Volunteer Family.

Whet their civic appetites by giving kids the vote. If you don’t already have a Kids Voting program in your community, consider starting one. I’ve volunteered as a precinct captain for Kids Voting Durham for the past several years. And on every Election Day, I swear I’m brought to tears at least once as I watch those kids sliding their ballots into the box, brimming with pride.

Stock your library with civic-minded reads. For grades K-2, try Being a Good Citizen (Way to Be!) by Mary Small. The book explains that by picking up trash or planting flowers, you’re being a good citizen. For grades 5-8, the ABC book D is for Democracy walks kids through concepts like immigration, taxation, and even zeitgeist.

Both drive home the fact that being a good citizen isn’t just about rights. It’s also about responsibilities.

Tags: , ,

Today I saw how boring standardized tests are. I worked with Edwin, a fifth grader who had trouble reading words like “attraction” and “budget” and “colony.” I don’t know how well a fifth grader is supposed to be reading, but my guess is — better.

So, first off, I felt like I didn’t even know where to begin. If you can’t even read the words, how can you grasp their meaning? And how can you then figure out what the sentence means? Because that’s what we were supposed to be doing: taking a sample test that measures reading comprehension. And really, the material is so dry, how can I expect him to even care what it means?

We worked together for 30 minutes, and I think we made it through seven questions in that time. I caught him checking the clock every 5 minutes or so.

Because I need to tell myself that it made a difference, I’ll mention what went well: We talked about comparing. He was able to look for (and find) word clues such as “like” or “similar. Also, he felt good about answering one question where he had to deduce something from the text. The answer wasn’t supplied word for word, so he had to make an assumption. I don’t know if he lucked into that one or what. But he got it right, and it made him smile.

Tags: ,