Anxiety & Anonymity

My inspiration this week (and yes, this season, since I have neglected Nuances since February) comes from one of my favorite places: Bookends from the The New York Times. The article is "How Do We Judge Books Written Under Pseudonyms?" By Francine Prose and Daniel Mendelsohn. November 12, 2013. I would recommend giving the article a quick glance before attempting to understand my mad ramblings and ruminations. Because, well...I ramble and ruminate. 

Click Below! I'll take you to the article too!

http://mobile.nytimes.com/2013/11/17/books/review/how-do-we-judge-books-written-under-pseudonyms.html?partner=rss&emc=rss&smid=tw-nytimes

My two favorite insights from this:

"Pseudonyms are especially attractive to fiction writers, whose work (inventing people and seeing the world through their eyes) requires an impersonation, of sorts. Writing under a pen name is like doing an impersonation of someone doing an impersonation...A friend who did something like this says he needed his alter ego, not to conceal his real name but to 'be' that fictitious person, who wrote a scene in which a father cannibalizes a family pet." ~Mendelsohn

"The critical urge to see family resemblances in an author’s work arises from a psychological insight: The creative mind is, like all minds, coherent, even if its coherences aren’t apparent. Like a psychotherapist, the critic looks for patterns, themes and repetitions not only within a work but across an artist’s career in order to uncover the hidden unities." ~ Prose

It's very true: analysis can become stale and lazy when a reader has already put significant effort into understanding an author's work—ask them to read another piece, and 7 out of 10 times, they will find similar "conclusions" about the author's intent or influences. You cannot unlearn something that you have learned through self-tutelage. Well, not without a lot of rewiring and maybe some amnesia!

If you look to Harold Bloom's "Anxiety of Influence", he asserts [my modest set of conclusions after that self-taught principle I just described]  that every generation is at creative war with itself.   We attempt to outdo the literary achievements of our ancestors, living in the constant fear that we will not surpass the innovation of the "greats" who wrote before us. And so one of two things will happen: a writer will try a technique and approach that deviates as far as possible from his or hero, OR a writer will first try to master and then elevate the very techniques of his or hero hero. It occurs to me now, that the argument Bloom made supported the notion that a constant comparison between the new and the old ends stifles new and innovative approaches to written expression. Anxiety for achievement distracts from the work at hand. That somehow we fixate on the past to try and inspire the new, which would hinder growth. I think looking to the past CAN hinder new achievements and voices, but it can also inform the historical canon, and push writers to invest in technique, and leave the changing world to continue to inspire new plot lines, dramatic and tragic twists and character flaws, and all those other little goodies (aka the story itself)!

So, the idea of an author using a nom de plume to escape (I infer) the anxiety of HIS or HER name being judged repeatedly in the literary canon, as he or she makes these adventures into technique, tale and talent, makes sense to me! To generate a fake identity so that he can write from a perspective not entirely his own, and thus be free to craft crazy, horrible plot lines that he (or she) would never otherwise attempt—in deference to the past generation's written achievements and homage to "good taste"—certainly speaks to the writer's love of  the craft. The nom de plume is a loophole; it provides the writer freedom to step beyond the constraints of literary study, the tastes and trends of the day, and even the expectation that he may have had for his illustrious career. In anonymity or alternative identities, we are free to write about "what we know" through a lens and with a style unique to a time, place, and perspective. It stands alone ready for analysis and comment but ripped away from an author's preceding body of works. It's a relationship between a reader and a writer that stands outside of preconceived expectations.

It's rather tantalizing when you think of it that way, no? 

~Written, shockingly enough, by a devoted follower of New Historicism (oops!)

Romance.

The most important lesson a couple will learn in 2013:

Romance can exist between ordinary people who live ordinary lives. 

Kind of a great quote, isn't it? Simple and beautiful. Reminds us all that grand gestures aren't the only things that make up a love story—the little ones are just as significant. I don't even remember on which program I heard it, just that it prompted me to leap from the couch in search of a pen, and then scribble fiendishly on a used Post-It Note. You know, much like any other day.

Worldy Wanderings

I do not travel for the cities, or the sights, or the food; I travel because I know that a friend is waiting somewhere on the other side of the world, and I must make my way to meet them.

2012 held many travels for me: I started the New Year in Houston, on a multi-person pilgrimage to visit my college roommate, and ended the year in New York City, reconnecting with two ladies who  shared a magical half year with me in Paris many, many years ago. The extreme differences between the locations, the experience, and most importantly, the people, cannot be overstated.

Over the years, I have been blessed to cast a "wide net". I have been given opportunities to see new places and try new things. My memories have become a kaleidoscope. Colorful, rich, ever moving.   Several of my friends claim to recall a particular chapter in their life through music they loved, others through a favorite t-shirt they wore. One guy even told me that he thinks of his past in terms of which watch he was wearing (the rubber, water proof, colorful rock climbers' favorite, no less). The watches defined his sport obsession of the moment.

When I think of a year in my past, I inevitably characterize it in one of two ways:

1. Where was I working?, or
2. Who was I visiting?

This probably says a great deal about my personality, and I won't pretend to know what exactly that might be. Worst possible interpretation: workaholic with an occasional Skymiles problem. 

There are worse things.

I firmly believe that sometimes you are pulled--by a spontaneous desire, or fateful coercion--to certain places, and all to experience one particular event. If my normally controlled, planning-oriented self had waited the responsible 6 months before running across the pond for school, I would never have met or bonded with two incredible women. One from Florida, the other from the bustling mayhem of New York City.

Similarly, if professional dissatisfaction hadn't set in during 2010, I might never have spent months living in the tundra of Minnesota, half-hiding in the guest bedroom of one of my best friend's home. Without that experience, our friendship would have never reached the sort of complex state that allows us to communicate in simple texts, over the divide of continents, time zones, and life experiences.

I travel to build bridges--not to places, but to people. To encourage the sort of friendships that will likely define my life; to meet the friends whose influence will change the way I participate in the world around me. And when I return home, I create a new bridge for them to travel across. Together, the planes, the trains, the automobiles take us further into ourselves, rather than farther away from our roots.

 So, why do you do the things you do?

Animals In Their Natural Habitat

A brief glimpse at an emerging species of Appalachia: Mulier Venatio (woman hunting).

These creatures can be found in the wild, frequently in the vicinity of vanity mirrors, and specialize in the hunting of well-muscled men.

Preferred diet:
red wine, berries, and sunshine

Nocturnal activities: 
Well, none of our biologists have managed to return from the field to tell the tale! 

 Photographic Documentation :
Vos mos rideo risi risum per 

(You will laugh excessively...or so the Author believes...
both literally and that this is the proper Latin)

Writers are Masochists, Or Things I Learned from a Movie

There is a sentiment among writers—and no, I do not believe myself a member of that erudite or eloquent clan—that to write a “true” story requires a level of sacrifice and pain.

There is also the belief that work is never truly finished. Well, combine those two, and I would say Writers are about the most masochistic set of individuals on the planet. 

No thank you. I will take “blogger” any day. Too heavy already? Check out my story about Bowling Squirrels!

I have just finished watching a rather unique film. And, as typically happens when I combine lofty dramas with a Cabernet, I get a little contemplative. Ok, pretentious. Ok, maybe pedantic. Oh do leave off!

“At some point you have to choose between real life and fiction. The two are very close, but they never actually touch.” 

Basic Plot: Film, The Words

Dennis Quaid plays a writer who is debuting his newest work, and is being quite coquettishly pursued by a Young Girl, who shares aspirations of being a writer. Through a rather twisted and confusing chronology, Quaid’s character reveals to her the central characters of his novel. Among the cast of characters are:  a struggling writer, played by Bradley Cooper; the writer’s supportive wife, Zoe Zaldana; and a rather gruff and cryptic Old Man, played by the gruff and cryptic Jeremy Irons. Over the course of the film, you then enter into a play-within-a-play-within-a-play storyline; Cooper’s character discovers a briefcase containing an old manuscript, which he eventually steals, that just happens to be a semi-autobiographical fiction written about AND by the Old Man. Still with me? I know, a play-within-a-play-within-a-play.  Only even more confusing since the deepest level of the “fiction” happens to be based on the “real life” events of the secondary fiction level (re: the Old Man). [Insert apology for my unfortunate love of dissecting film through the lens of literary criticism.]

In the film, the story within a story mechanism, presents a writer whose attempts to educate a young and idealistic girl is more than complicated: it jumps abruptly between concepts of male desire, loving and longing, the artist’s insecurity, and even the worthiness of societal approbation. Each scene could be a vignette—staccato rhythms and disjointed transitions do very little to connect Quaid to his manifested younger self in Cooper, or to the source of his anxiety and creative self-doubt, represented by the Old Man (Irons).

Quaid’s character represents a writer who is questioning his own success in life, and is wondering if all that has been thrown at him—objects of lust (the Young Girl), social approbation (the book signing), or his right to a writer’s voyeurism (the Obscenely Large Glass Loftspace)—is truly the result of his own talent, or the arbitrary series of occurrences in an ambitious man’s life? Or worse, he wonders if he is only an mediocre writer, imitating a greater man’s effort. 

What separates the great from the never discovered? Whoever wrote this screenplay had Harold Bloom’s “Anxiety of Influence” in mind. In that essay, Bloom discusses the paradigm of the current generation: an ambitious young man, in whatever age he lives, will always feel the pressure to live up the legends, or “fathers”, that came before him. The greatest fear of that young man is not necessarily that he may never be discovered and his talent recognized, but that his contributions are merely versions, subpar attempts, of the efforts of his “fathers”.  So, Quaid essentially writes about his own artistic insecurities when he saddles the handsome Cooper with thievery and the contempt of Old Man Irons. My view deviates from here quite a bit—if the young man is meant to be anxious of his own influences, for both their merits and their sins, he is then going to constantly live in fear of the so-called pioneers who inspired him. Take that a step further and you end up with a young man at war with the very sources of his inspiration. 

Some might argue that this is the heart of how art makes progress, and how fields continue to grow. I will not venture there. I cannot claim to have thought very much on the subject. But I will run with this War-With-The-Muse idea!

There is a line in the movie in which the Old Man claims, “I loved words more than I loved the woman who inspired me to write them. [That is] my tragedy.” Discarding the gender issue, and even the gargantuan character that is played by the silent character “Writing”, this sentiment builds from Bloom’s premise: we may overlook, underappreciate, or even over-appreciate the necessary influences that shape our own self-worth. In order to be happy, in order to create without fear or doubt, one must accept that choices are but choices, and inspiration is simply an advantage to the act of creation. They are springboards for action certainly, but it is the man, and not the “influences” that redirects a life, a story, a resolution. 

At the end, Quaid has a moment where he tells the Young Girl that the novel concludes with “no morals, no consequences”, just an understanding that life can go on as usual, despite the horrible and tragic choices we make. The Young Girl seems extremely put off by this, and in a rather obvious moment, Quaid counters with the aforementioned “choose between real life and fiction.” The screenwriters may have tried to tackle about four different literary/social constructs, but this one is nailed (unfortunately, when most audiences are probably too confused by the timeline to catch it): in real life, the “story” does go on, and in so many cases our villains and our heroes are no different from one another. They exist at a level beneath the epic reach of fiction—because it is only in fiction that we demand to actually learn from the human experience. Real life? Oh gracious, how often do we dance with glee when our mistakes go unpunished? My point exactly!

And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, will conclude me harassing your eyes on screen. 

Cheers! Now, go read a book or clean the dishes or something. ::wink and a smile::

Proof that the Author is indeed alive.

I owe more visits to my online oasis that I can count. It has been a rough few weeks--but let's not go into that.

I would rather--in an obvious attempt to avoid actually writing a real post--share a few sources of inspiration that others have pointed me to. Enjoy! (Credit to the sources I stole them from...I put in links...you know, so no one will sue me this year.)

The type of invention only pseudo writer would love. 

Bookshelves to transform your life: 18 Insanely Cool Bookshelves

Croquet at St. John's College in Annapolis. Courtesy to Photojournal.

Middle Aged Love is Just More Interesting

Or at least it is in the movies.

 

Before someone goes all "well, all love stories are better in the movies! The producers are pandering to our lovesick hearts! yada yada yada", let me qualify my assertion.

In the traditional 20-something romantic comedy, the grab is the classic star crossed lovers scenario, and just like a Greek chorus, we are sitting in the audience fully aware that the only way life will improve for our characters is if they finally hook up. So, queue the music, bring down the lights, maybe add a horse chase or some great self-deprecating speech, and our characters finally realize they can make it together! Curtain up. Story over.

I should be clear: I do embrace the estrogen in my system, and I do identify with that occasional "yay! they can stop dating the wrong people and live happily together" attitude. At the end of the day, I am a romantic. I want to see the lovers end up together, or a resolution achieved, or--as in 500 Days of Summer--the broken hearted finally heal. Are these films realistic? Probably never. But they fulfill a need to see a happy ending for people in that same stage of life as we are in.

But the middle aged love story is just so much more layered; characters are richer, lives more interesting, the dynamics of desire so much more obvious. In a way, the stakes are higher for the main characters in a middle aged-love story--after all, this is likely the second chance at life and love. And yet, because of that very truth, the games are strangely absent (or at least way less complicated). In that cinematic middle aged love affair, the characters aren't delusional enough to believe that every new man or woman is the ONE. The hunting mentality just isn't there.  We get to watch people spar and love in spades. With intelligent dialogue. All that breeds authenticity. YES.

I could die very happy knowing that I had produced a screenplay like Something's Gotta Give. Will I ever? Very doubtful. But why do I feel that way? The character's love affair is damn funny. This is a story for romantics who appreciate things that are well-written, and have a splash of the ludicrous.  Both characters are stubborn, the actors themselves quite iconic, and the story feels authentic. And, armed with rapier wit, they develop a humorous, slightly combative, and complete honest affection for one another. The causal approach of their romance allows for a bit of frivolity, but the intricacies of their individual lives gloss the whole affair in the unforgettable. Jack Nicholson and Diane Keaton strike gold. Comedic and romantic gold.

Another sterling example is It's Complicated, with Meryl Streep, Alec Baldwin, and Steve Martin.
Let's look at what makes this love triangle very memorable:

1. Every character is grown up, and successful; I don't envy Meryl's shoes, I envy her kitchen. Her choices are a successful businessman or genius architect. Hmm.
2. I never see her drunkenly sleeping with some cute guy she met over spring break, but I do see her getting her party on with STEVE MARTIN. You know, the guy from The Jerk? A step up? I think so.
   
3. Situational comedy is the bread-and-butter of a film about blended families and multi-lovers. I mean, I buy the idea that hiding your knickers from your grown up kids shoulders more urgency then hiding them from your 20-something chick roommate.

So the moral of this whole post is really a bit vague. But I think I want to be Meryl Streep but date a guy with Jack Nicholson's humor?Yeah, I may have to get back to you on that one. Just put them in your Netflix queue.

Oh, and I should note: I quite like dating without the "benefits" of age, and am in no hurry to advance the timeline. ;)

The Working Woman's Soundtrack to Surviving the Rough Day

7 AM - Wake up call

 

9 AM - Walking into the Board Meeting

1:15 PM - But then the presentation falls flat

4:45 PM - Quittin' time is comin' late but ... I can do it even better in 'broken heels'.

7:15 PM - Lullaby for a Lover

Scratch Scratch

It seems that I have sublet part of my palatial bedroom.

I know—it seems like the sort of thing one would remember doing, no?
Also, I say palatial because I love the look of the word, and because my bedroom has ridiculous turret-like walls at 65 degree angles so-it-kind-of-resembles-a-fortress, and because it takes a really long time to vacuum. There are 14 walls...only three of them reach 8 feet in height.  It is fanciful and fabulous. And I am irrationally possessive of the huge space; I do not want to share.

Now, now. No judgements. If this were a post-apocalyptic world, I would gladly lug a bunch of twin beds up the steps and make a mini refugee camp. I am not heartless after all.

But I do NOT share with scurrying, four legged creatures. Especially when they wake me from a dead sleep with their creepy, echoing, scurrying behaviors. At pre-dawn hours.

I met my new "roommates" after they—as all entitled neighbors do—insisted upon moving around in the rafters directly above my dresser/bathroom, loudly and with no consideration of my REM cycle. The effect was an alternating hollow and high-pitched "scratch scratch" noise, coupled with the occasional sounds of cascading bullets. In hindsight, I recognize that creatures were not having a gang turf war in my ceiling: they were stockpiling acorns, a.k.a. ammo, for future turf wars with me. Or they have set up a bowling alley using acorns in my rafters. Either way, not good. For approximately 10 minutes, while I stared at the red digital alarm clock, I listened intently. I was trying to gauge the exact source of the noise. I was also trying to rationalize that a bat wasn't in my room. Yes, that thought crossed my mind. I mean, fortress like room? Dark? Sleepy delirium? It made sense.

Eventually, as fear turned to irritation that I was loosing precious minutes of sleep before the alarm clock sounded, I got mad. And then went mad. With no other recourse than scare tactics available to me, I grabbed an emptied wrapping paper dowel (tis the season for wrapping gifts) and started WHACKING the ceiling in short furious bursts of energy. I went so far as to adopt a strategy for noisy disruption: "X" and "W" formations with the dowel. Also note, I was freezing, in PJs, still in the dark, and totally channeling a bad martial arts film with cries of, "Hi-yight!" I parried, I sliced, I made dramatic jumping movements designed to stun! Because, they have x-ray vision and could see my intimidation tactics through the ceiling plaster, of course.

It didn't work. Breathless and nervy, and a complete mess, I listened as they ignored me. And my shoulders slumped in disappointment, and I did the only rational thing: I decided to force Sisterita awake to share in my plight. She did not, I believe, appreciate my efforts to include her in my turf war.

The nemesis I imagine.

I feel like Zoe Deschanel's character in Failure to Launch; the pacifist is driven completely mad by a mockingbird and nearly robs a gun counter to find relief. I will not, I assure you, take this tactic. But I have no idea if a) I am dealing with mice, squirrels, mischievous gnomes, or hobgoblins, or b) how to GET RID OF THEM.

Help?

Also, remember me describing the room like a fortress? Well, fortresses with weird noises are creepy. And it was pre-dawn, so I woke up to weird noises in the dark. The whole situation kind of made me whimper a little bit. My samurai bravado was a complete farce--but if enough sleepless nights persist, I will pass by terror in favor of rage. I don't like the scurrying. At all. ::GULP::

If This Moment Had a Soundtrack

Monday.

This moment tells the tale of a mismatched pair...featuring some tight jeans.

Tuesday.

This moment is changing gears and changing attitudes.

Wednesday.

This moment of joy-inspired choreography (and Joseph Gordon Levitt) should happen every damn day.

Thursday. 

This moment marvels at the audacity of the entitled.

Friday.

This moment is scandalous and powerful.

Saturday.

This moment is all about a low key rhythm and a surprising sound.

Sunday.

This moment feels like Sunday.

Illogical Logic

A logic model (also known as a logical framework, theory of change, or program matrix) is a tool used most often by managers and evaluators of programs to evaluate the effectiveness of a program . Logic models are usually a graphical depiction of the logical relationships between the resources, activities, outputs and outcomes of a program.   

~ McCawley, Paul. "The logic model for program planning and evaluation". University of Idaho.

I like this definition; it is clear, concise considering its subject, and Wikipedia gave it to me. And I love 96% of the things on Wikipedia. Mostly because it is a fun to say..."Wicc*a*pe*de-ah" Melodius.

But, despite the inherent singularity of the word "model", there is no such thing as the standard logic model. Why? Well, for all of my work in this field, I still cannot answer that. 

Perhaps it is because funders and program evaluators want to ensure that a model reflects the unique circumstances of a program's design; perhaps it is because the program has unique funding considerations; perhaps it is due to the subject matter--a plan for implementing an online training is quite different than one outlining a plan to feed the hungry in Kenya; or perhaps, it is because logic itself is fluid and not easily contained by "structures."

All valid considerations. 

But every now and then, I think the variations exist just to spite me. Variations are creative, artistic, phenomenal! I love them! Poetry in table form! (Go with it.) That is, until you have to rewrite an evaluation plan in non-evaluation terms. And then, my dear friends, you begin to lose your hair. Slowly, and with sweet agony. Because at some point, describing your "plan" for evaluation and measurement of a program--whether non profit or profit oriented--requires several formats: there is the "donor" or customer format, which puts things into simple terms; there is the "Board member" or investor format, which requires that you overlay sustainability planning (translation: funding or profit) over the program design (sometimes a logic model is so impossible to decipher, this becomes sheer wizardry); there is the staff format, which includes internal goals such as the number of service recipients, or total products delivered; and then there is the public health format. Otherwise known as the "completely logical, always inconsistent, and ultimately fluid universe".

I live here now.

For those of you not working in program delivery, Non Government Organizations (NGOs), or domestic nonprofits, the logic model is your "guide to action". It doesn't replace a strategic/business plan, nor does it serve as the action plan (or "how to and when"); the logic model allows you a framework to follow around measurement and evaluation. If properly designed and consistently executed, the logic model will tell you exactly where your program's strengths and weaknesses are. And it will set the stage for analyzing your program's impact and determining where you will go next. It is program efficiency in the making.

And it can be convoluted. Examples:

Fairly typical.
Courtesy of the University of Wisconsin.

Typical...except for that triangle Venn Diagram thing. I mean, sheesh.
Courtesy of the Education Model Program Design.

When your program needs "flying geese."
Actually, I really do appreciate The Performance Institute's approach

And then there is the Public Health Model on Obesity for the state of New York.
You see where things get...expansive. I do not work on things such as this daily--
I simply go by it to create the local versions as a "sub program" component (or some such nonsense).

Do share: how would you find a consistent way of describing these visual variations? Two such innocuous words: logic and model. Until you pair them with concepts like measurement. Or evaluation. Or B-Verbose's brain. Like all things that are mind-boggling, this too will make me a better a writer. Maybe?

If This Moment Had a Soundtrack

Monday.

This moment is infectious. Dance-around-your-living-room-sweet? Oh yes.

Tuesday.

"Run the world? Darling, didn't you know that I already am?"

Wednesday. 

This moment is inexplicably fun.

Thursday.

This moment pays homage to one of the greatest improvisational vocalists of our time.

Friday. 

This moment is for your inner rock star.

Saturday. 

 This moment is...unexpected.

Sunday.

This moment transports you to foreign shores (even if the video is less than pleasing).

The Working Woman's Woes: A Bit of a Wild Hair

"Can’t someone who can conjugate French verbs, write statistically dense research papers and explicate the poetry of William Blake be trained in computer programming, supply-chain management and other skills valued by hiring managers? An entire generation hopes that C.E.O.’s somewhere believe that giving them an opportunity is the right — and the smart — thing to do."

 Robert W. Goldfarb, Management Consultant, Author
Read the full article HERE

On my recent wanderings on the New York Times Website--a special note of appreciation to RoroBird for turning me on to daily visits--I discovered an Op-Ed targeting the education vs workplace divide. Well, what better fodder for the "Working Woman's Woes" serial?! And from such a recognized source!

I must say, for all the great and relevant points the author makes, and there are many, Mr. Goldfard paints a bleak picture of the job marketplace. I found the entire piece a bit resigned in tone. And that, my good friends, I refuse to accept. The job marketplace has changed, but that doesn't mean the tide hasn't turned in some positive ways. A diploma is less impressive these days than a varied and tiered resume (at an impossibly young professional age). Employers DO want to see discipline, experience, and some level of improving performance before taking a risk on an employee. All points, by the way, that Mr. Goldfard cites. He even appeals (almost without any hope) to CEOs to see beyond the "hard skills" that many Liberal Arts graduates may be lacking initially, and value their learned appreciation for working in dynamic, multi- fields and systems. As a Liberal Arts degree holder, I couldn't agree more.

EVEN the most technologically innovative companies benefit from having a balance of employees — most with technical degrees, others with broader educations. Valuable products and services emerge from the clash of ideas between analytical professionals and managers whose greatest strength is their intuitiveness. ~Goldfarb

But, despite all of the obstacles, there is a shifting tide. A new breed of very interesting professionals has developed: the A La Carte Employee. Please do not immediately interpret this phrase negatively; I use "a la carte" in this context to describe a generation of professionals who have become quite creative in their quest to build a varied resume, and still circumvent the "entry level" employment race.

Many friends, myself included, have walked circuitous paths toward developing a career.  Some people do still head straight to the top, and I am proud of them. Some professionals still practice the "foot in the door" tradition: hold a full time job in administrative role, and wait to climb your way up in a company. This works sometimes--but often, the wait can be long. Or, these folks use the buffer of being gainfully employed to job hop into another company. The way I see it, that is not indicative of a lack of employee dedication. It frustrates me to hear employers complain about "unmotivated" professionals. Yes, I know some members of my age bracket have confused the instant-gratification expectation of Twitter with the real world. But the majority of us are not that dense. We know we must work hard to achieve something at a young age. Or at all. Talented, young employees are jumping ship because businesses are afraid to resume the old practice of laying out an attractive promotional path. To build talent, you need diverse workers: to keep talent, you need encourage their development (and consequently, their dedication to your company). It doesn't need to be a fast track, but there needs to be a track. Anyone hearing me out there?

Back to my main point--the "a la carte" professional. A few years ago, I worked retail part time in order to bridge an employment gap. During that time, I met graduate students, engineers, and recent graduates all in the same boat. The inspiring thing about that environment (when we weren't singing the "full time pay, where are you!?" song), was the creativity used by young professionals to change their situation. One was working part time retail, while moonlighting his graphic skills to a non profit, building a solid portfolio and networking; another was working on a vocational degree by evenings to pair with his liberal arts education; another launched a low cost enterprise based on cleaning houses, and organizing wealthy ladies' closets (not kidding). Others, myself included, continued honing our previously employed skills with contracted work, spending our evenings researching new markets, and looking for innovative ways to interpret old industry needs. Or fields to which we might need to transition. Others volunteered, or made great contacts with their regular customers, and thus landed them a job. But the entire group had one thing in common--and this is true no matter what "bridge" field a person is working (or volunteering) in--they used innate skill sets in a wide range of activities, relying on their resiliency and intuition to tackle completely foreign problems. I mean, how many engineers are public speakers? Or how many finance educated professionals do you know who can plan a staff event? But, those incidences showed flexibility, and an "a la carte" approach to professional training. Basically, they volunteered to be stressed out just to have an opportunity to learn. Amazing how those old sayings, like "life is the best teacher", always turn back up, isn't it?

This "a la carte" group came away with what exactly? Well, experience in customer service, problem resolution, team environments, a newly sharpened ability to self-motivate, and the oh-so-valuable experience of trail and error. The "a la carte" group could quite effectively demonstrate that "hard skills"--or those particular to one type of employment position--weren't the wheels that kept the cart moving: the individual talent was the key. Many employers are beginning to see the benefits of hiring young professionals with competence over traditional experience. But I never claimed the wave is fast moving. So, take advantage of whatever employment situation you find yourself in. If you are unhappily employed, keep on finding new things to try on the side. If you are unemployed, pair your traditional job hunt with some random experiences that will make you a better person. At the end of the day, investing in your own competency and personal skill sets is the way to a) get noticed by current employers for recognition, b) improve your visibility in the job market, and c) ensure that the job you land, you will have the confidence to carry.

Plus, doesn't "a la carte" give you that little bit of adventure that we all crave? I am still waiting on someone to ask me to write a consumer review of skydiving. So far, no one has called. But I haven't given up hope of dancing on the "edge" with my technical expertise!

If This Moment Had a Soundtrack

Monday.

This moment is bluesy and just a little bit ready to fight. Already aware that today's victor might not be you, you are content to wail your way into infamy. And to leave a bloody trail.

 

Tuesday. 

This moment is ambitious and tormented. Every decision is an opportunity for second guessing, for regret, for redemption.

Wednesday.

This moment is open. The world is merely voyeuristic and you are ready for the tactile.

Thursday.

This moment is brazen.

Friday.

This moment is heady, euphoric. A moment in "reckless abandon". A stop over in a week full of stop overs.

 

Saturday.

This moment is conquered. Tame the game, topple the players, and dance across the stage in celebration.

Sunday.

This moment is nostalgic. It is appreciation for every friend that has traveled the road with you.

Shameless

It has never been one of my ambitions to make history by breaking all the rules.

I respect the men and women who have. In their rebellion, they have overhauled systems of law and commerce; these warriors have lived passionate lives, full of heroics, and they carry the torch of the "American Rebel" spirit into every new generation. Our pace of progress rests on their shoulders. Where would we be--in this modern age--without those individuals?

Vanderbilt, Rockefeller, Carnegie, and J.P. Morgan (for better or worse) would never have pushed the envelopes of business and created the trust culture which financed our greatest industrial age. Nor would they have been the giants whose fall ushered in the rise of the middle class.

Carnegie looks cuddly, doesn't he?

Gloria Steinem, and her peers, would never have become the megaphones for feminism; and we might still ignorant of how low the "glass ceiling" could hang.

Sandra Day O'Connor might never have brought her brand of justice to that very important bench. 

Harvey Milk would never had changed the political landscape for the LGBT community.

Kathyrn Bigelow's remarkable cinematic storytelling might never have led to the first Oscar for a female director; more importantly, her storytelling in a male dominated world might never have been heard.

All impressive, all noteworthy...the list could go on, and on, and on. The warriors of our collective national history found rule books and they did what unlikely leaders do best: they broke every rule they did not like.

But there is another sort of individual who makes history: the Guileless Innovator.

 

The individual whose pioneering efforts created the incredible, the new, and the desperately-in-need-of-regulation category. And maybe, just maybe, they never meant to start a movement. These are the folks that bring a secret smile of admiration to my face. They never went to "war," or overhauled a system. Their mark on history is unquestionable--but their approach so very eloquent: these men and women did what they did first, and so they predated the rules and regulations of their so-called industries.

Mary Kay Ash, the entrepreneur, needed a business model that could grow while she slept. One that would allow her to succeed based on the quality of effort she put forward, rather than the scale set forth by a corporate culture. So, she launched a cosmetics company that has provided millions of women with financial independence over three decades. A model that is now mimicked by hundreds of boutique American businesses.

Oprah Winfrey, Media Mogul, tackled daytime television when daytime television was a breeding ground for little more than soap operas and appliance commercials. Sure, she knocked down several racial barriers in her career as a journalist, but her unexpected achivement came later. She built a platform on which the feuding (post feminist divide) Domestic Female could connect to her Career-Culture counterpart. On national television. She probably also inflamed a consumerism problem ("My Favorite Things"), but let's share credit where credit is due.

Jimmy Wales, the co-founder of the Wikipedia Foundation, saw an opportunity to create shared knowledge among nations, peoples, and neighbors. His presence in the modern subconscious is certainly as strong as that of Mark Zuckerburg, and his Facebook creation. The difference? Wales invited the world to share in authorship. And created one of the most visited information resources on the planet, with more information kept on its pages than in the lost library of Alexandria.

And, arguably, my favorite woman of cinema: the seductive, guileless Queen of Metro Goldwyn Meyer, Norma Shearer. The first time that I saw the film The Women, I was transfixed by this beautiful, gregarious starlet. Charming, witty and so very present. And I wondered why I had only a vague memory of her name. Well, one quick look into Tinseltown's history and you will find a woman credited with every (though few) brave cinematic roles in Pre-Code Hollywood. She played a naive little divorcee, a royal adulteress, and in The Women, a housewife who refuses to pretend that her husband's infidelity is not cause for a trip to Reno. In pre-code Hollywood there were no rules. Society may have had them, but no one had yet to say that the theater or cinematic world was a place for censorship. This was art. She was the first talkie super star. And, after all, if Shakespeare's crude comedies were still getting stage time, why not a shattered housewife, desperate to maintain her dignity while struggling with love for her husband? Well, Code Hollywood reacted to the lovely Norma with many restrictions. Script content was monitored, clothing choices were scrutinized. The lovely Queen of MGM? She simply took off her tiara, influenced the producer's chair and steered cinema into new waters by her hubby's side (Mr. MGM himself).

So, in the grand tradition of Navigating the Nuances, I bring you a topic from the far left field to consider. If the legacy were to be yours, which would you rather:

Be a rebel who finds victory in the spotlight,

Or be the guileless innovator who makes history before the spotlight has even caught up?