In recent months, I have been honored twice for my volunteer work.
It is an embarrassment of riches.
Back in June, I received the community volunteer of the year award from our local Rotary (to which I do not belong). From what I have since gathered, being named a Paul Harris Fellow in Rotary circles is the equivalent of winning a Nobel Prize.
Then yesterday, at our United Way campaign kickoff breakfast, I was recognized for earlier receiving the Nancy Frankenberg award for "exceptional volunteerism and dedication." The Frankenberg award is our United Way's equivalent of winning a Nobel Prize.
I guess I am now a two-time local Nobel winner.
My good friend Margo, who was at the United Way breakfast with me and Warren, emailed me her thoughts later:
You keep a fairly low profile, you know, so although I'm aware of all you do, the scope of your impact and influence startles me on days like this. It's like looking across the breakfast table and thinking "Whoa! I'm eating muffins with Mahatma Gandhi!"
I replied:
You were eating muffins with April Nelson. Trust me, I was there too.
Or, as I remind Warren from time to time, it's just me.
After I came home last week with the Frankenberg award, which is somewhat large, Warren joked that we are going to have to build a trophy case. That reminded me of the wistful explanation Christopher Milne gave in his haunting memoir, The Enchanted Places, as to why it never bothered him to donate his toys - the Pooh, the Piglet - to the New York Public Library: I wouldn't like a glass case that said: "Here is fame;" and I don't need a glass case to remind me: "Here was love."
So ix-nay on the trophy case, my dear Warren.
What occurred to me was that, had I had the opportunity to say a few words, what I would have said is "when I look out at this room, there is not a table here without at least one person with whom I have worked on a project to better our community."
And that's the truth. From school levies to United Way to the Symphony to the Legal Clinic - they were all there.
It is always the truth. It is always a community effort. It is always all of us joining together, whether it is the 31 volunteers who showed up last Saturday to move the Symphony office to its new location or the friend coming to the Legal Clinic last month "just" to help with intake.
It is wonderful to get recognition and these awards are no exception. I am deeply touched and honored. But ultimately, it's not about me. It's about us. It is about this community coming through time and time again to improve the quality of life for everyone.
And that's worth a Nobel Prize in my book any day.
Showing posts with label United Way. Show all posts
Showing posts with label United Way. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Useful Girl
I rarely write about books on this blog because if I did, it would just turn into a running commentary on what I am reading today, tomorrow, or two days from now.
Despite that, my thoughts today are the direct result of a recently finished novel, Useful Girl by Marcus Spence. Useful Girl is set in Montana in the 1990s, with a story inside the story set in the 1870s. The modern story follows a young woman, Erin, who has to make some major life decisions; the secondary story follows a young Cheyenne girl, Moehae, who is caught in the turmoil and violence of the Indian wars in the region.
The title comes from an evocative scene towards the end of the novel. Moehae is dying of exposure and an infected gunshot wound. Her mother cradles the feverish girl and slips silver thimbles on each finger of her daughter's right hand. She tells Moehae the thimbles are so the Great Spirit would know she could sew and was therefore a "useful girl."
It is a haunting scene. It is a haunting thought.
Am I a useful girl? I think I am. I hope I am.
Yesterday was a full day, starting the night before when I baked four apple pies. In the morning. two pies went across the back yard to our friend Kris's house, as later that day she and her family and friends were gathering to celebrate the life of her husband Tom, who died suddenly last month. The other two pies went with me to the Community Impact Council (CIC) meeting for United Way. We were meeting to determine the allocation of our United Way campaign donations, which ended up totaling more than 2.1 million dollars.
Six hours later, our work done, I rushed home from CIC, hastily changed clothes, then headed to Mansfield with Warren for a rehearsal and concert. In the break tween the two, he and I sat in his truck in the parking lot and worked on the subscription brochure for the upcoming Symphony season. Warren had a rough draft of last year's copy with the word "engage" dropped in as a possible theme. I stared unhappily at it for about 20 minutes, muttering my discontent, before I felt the tiniest tug of inspiration. We talked about it, I made some notes, and this morning I wrote a new draft with a related yet different direction.
After the concert and the hour-plus drive back home, we unloaded the gear (being married to a percussionist means there is always something to unload after a concert) and then slipped out the back and across the lawn to Kris's house. We entered through the kitchen, where Emily, the younger daughter, was seated with her grandmother. After a hard hug, she pointed us towards the hallway, saying "the concert is that way - just follow the sound of guitars."
We came upon on full room, so full we stood out in the hallway until Kate, the older daughter, found us two chairs. We could hear someone playing guitar and singing-talking his way through stories about Tom. Kris was on the couch, leaning against someone else, both tears and smiles on her face. Others in the room were calling out additions to the story. Some were laughing, some were crying, some were doing both. Earlier, Kate told us, there had been spectacular fireworks (Tom's favorite way to celebrate) in the backyard. Earlier there had been many, many friends and family and neighbors eating and talking and crying and laughing. It was a moving, heartfelt celebration of the life of Tom Prengaman and, late and tired as we were, I'm glad we shared in it, if even for a little bit.
This morning, I told Warren how moved I was by the love and friendship I saw last night at Tom's celebration and how I wanted something like that after I die. He gently said "I knew you were thinking about that," and squeezed my hand. I then shared with him the above scene from Useful Girl, saying I found myself wondering, "am I a useful girl?" and, if I was, what items would show that?
A rolling pin? A pie pan? A pen?
They say "you can't take it with you," so I probably don't need a rolling pin slipped into my hands when I die. But I hope after my death that my friends and family gather together and celebrate my pies and my writing and my love of community. I hope there is music and laughter, good food and soft moments, as Warren and the rest share stories about this useful girl.
Despite that, my thoughts today are the direct result of a recently finished novel, Useful Girl by Marcus Spence. Useful Girl is set in Montana in the 1990s, with a story inside the story set in the 1870s. The modern story follows a young woman, Erin, who has to make some major life decisions; the secondary story follows a young Cheyenne girl, Moehae, who is caught in the turmoil and violence of the Indian wars in the region.
The title comes from an evocative scene towards the end of the novel. Moehae is dying of exposure and an infected gunshot wound. Her mother cradles the feverish girl and slips silver thimbles on each finger of her daughter's right hand. She tells Moehae the thimbles are so the Great Spirit would know she could sew and was therefore a "useful girl."
It is a haunting scene. It is a haunting thought.
Am I a useful girl? I think I am. I hope I am.
Yesterday was a full day, starting the night before when I baked four apple pies. In the morning. two pies went across the back yard to our friend Kris's house, as later that day she and her family and friends were gathering to celebrate the life of her husband Tom, who died suddenly last month. The other two pies went with me to the Community Impact Council (CIC) meeting for United Way. We were meeting to determine the allocation of our United Way campaign donations, which ended up totaling more than 2.1 million dollars.
Six hours later, our work done, I rushed home from CIC, hastily changed clothes, then headed to Mansfield with Warren for a rehearsal and concert. In the break tween the two, he and I sat in his truck in the parking lot and worked on the subscription brochure for the upcoming Symphony season. Warren had a rough draft of last year's copy with the word "engage" dropped in as a possible theme. I stared unhappily at it for about 20 minutes, muttering my discontent, before I felt the tiniest tug of inspiration. We talked about it, I made some notes, and this morning I wrote a new draft with a related yet different direction.
After the concert and the hour-plus drive back home, we unloaded the gear (being married to a percussionist means there is always something to unload after a concert) and then slipped out the back and across the lawn to Kris's house. We entered through the kitchen, where Emily, the younger daughter, was seated with her grandmother. After a hard hug, she pointed us towards the hallway, saying "the concert is that way - just follow the sound of guitars."
We came upon on full room, so full we stood out in the hallway until Kate, the older daughter, found us two chairs. We could hear someone playing guitar and singing-talking his way through stories about Tom. Kris was on the couch, leaning against someone else, both tears and smiles on her face. Others in the room were calling out additions to the story. Some were laughing, some were crying, some were doing both. Earlier, Kate told us, there had been spectacular fireworks (Tom's favorite way to celebrate) in the backyard. Earlier there had been many, many friends and family and neighbors eating and talking and crying and laughing. It was a moving, heartfelt celebration of the life of Tom Prengaman and, late and tired as we were, I'm glad we shared in it, if even for a little bit.
This morning, I told Warren how moved I was by the love and friendship I saw last night at Tom's celebration and how I wanted something like that after I die. He gently said "I knew you were thinking about that," and squeezed my hand. I then shared with him the above scene from Useful Girl, saying I found myself wondering, "am I a useful girl?" and, if I was, what items would show that?
A rolling pin? A pie pan? A pen?
They say "you can't take it with you," so I probably don't need a rolling pin slipped into my hands when I die. But I hope after my death that my friends and family gather together and celebrate my pies and my writing and my love of community. I hope there is music and laughter, good food and soft moments, as Warren and the rest share stories about this useful girl.Friday, March 26, 2010
The Week That Was
This has been a busy, busy week. I am so glad it is Friday.
I have already written about my United Way week. But United Way was not the only thing that happened this week.
This week I filled, seeded, and watered 66 pots. Tomatoes, peppers, eggplant, broccoli, some ornamental gourds (seeds from another, so they may be crossbred) because Warren wants to experiment with gourd instruments some more. After doing that Sunday I was tired, tired, tired.
While I was in United Way meetings all day Tuesday, Warren and the Symphony were launching the big event of the year: the Symphony participating in the Ford Made in America program. The kickoff event was a luncheon of community leaders to introduce the program, explain the related community events, centered around a four day residency with composer Joseph Schwantner, and seek community imput.
And at home in the evenings, Warren was building a vibraphone. Except for Tuesday night, when we went to hear Liz's band concert.
When I wasn't at United Way this week, I was in court meetings. I am the lead writer of a grant due April 8 and those days are ticking fast.
When I wasn't at United Way or in court meetings this week, I was on the road. Sam started work on Monday and I am driving him to and from the job each day. That has required us to set the alarms earlier and run the days a little later.
Today is the first day all week that, after driving Sam to work, I have not had to turn around and prepare for a meeting outside of the home. Maybe I can catch up on a lot of laundry, paperwork, writing.
As I said, this has been a busy week full of hard work, accomplishments, proud moments, news from Montana (there's a wedding in the works!), and Sam's new job. Whew.
Mother Nature apparently felt left out of the whirl, so she added her piece to the week as well. This morning, the last Friday in March, we all woke up to this sight outdoors:
And this one indoors:
The broccoli is up! Now that's the way to end a busy, busy week!
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Look, Ma! No Hoops!
Marilyn, my CIC co-chair at United Way, said yesterday, "I don't see how they are going to do all this [carry out an ambitious proposal] unless someone on that staff grows a gill."
I burst out laughing. Brandon, our United Way president, gave her this look and repeated, "grow a gill?" And with Marilyn's statement and our responses, I knew we had officially crossed into United Way March Madness.
As I wrote last year, for those of us who volunteer as Impact Team members for United Way of Delaware County, March is not about tournament brackets, Cinderella teams, or the Final Four. Rather, it is about reading funding proposals, two weeks of agency site visits, and team meetings that run up to three hours while we discuss the merits of the proposals.
Today was Day Two (and the final day) of those marathon team meetings.
As a warm-up exercise both days, Tracy, who is Community Impact Manager for United Way, had us go around the room, introduce ourselves, and throw out one word that described the Impact Team process:
Enlightening
Difficult
Educational
Baffling
Demanding
Thorough
Surprising
Overwhelming
Rewarding
Confusing
Enriching
Excellent
Challenging
Empowering
The Impact Team process is all of those words and more. It is an uplifting and humbling experience. Every year I come out of March in awe of the strength of this community.
I also come away punch drunk from the wackiness that envelops those of us closest to the process. Prior to this week, our volunteers conducted agency site visits. Yesterday and today, some 30+ volunteers reviewed 39 proposals over the course of four separate Impact Team meetings. Marilyn, Brandon, Tracy, and I attended all four meetings, read all 39 proposals, and between us, made sure that at least two of us (one CIC co-chair and one staff member) attended each site visit.
Little wonder we all get a little tipsy on United Way March Madness.
There was a lot of laughter yesterday and today. We get silly. This morning when Tracy gave her word, "grateful," she added "for all of you volunteers," then threw out "I love you guys!" in an Academy Award winning baritone. I looked at Brandon, who had yet to give his word, and said "top that." Rod, who works for Nationwide and is a veteran volunteer himself, pointed out the role Red Cross fills at local disasters, such as house fires. "Who's the first on the scene?," Rod asked, before answering, "Besides a Nationwide adjuster, that is." Another volunteer opined how unsettling it was as to how much personal information could be gathered easily from the internet. I said, deadpan, "I know. I look you up all the time!" Marilyn, describing an agency site visit and some of the volunteer comments, said, "well, it wasn't like acid reflux when we suggested it."
I'm going to miss United Way March Madness.
This is my fifth and final year as an Impact Team volunteer. I've had a long tenure, by local United Way standards, and I am grateful for that. I've loved it. I've loved getting to know my community even better than I had ever imagined possible. I've loved working with so many other volunteers from all parts of the county and many walks of life, some of whom have become friends beyond our United Way confines. I've loved serving as CIC co-chair, despite the extra hours and extra commitment.
I will help lead the CIC meeting in mid-April, at which we make our funding recommendations, and I will make the presentation to the United Way Board the last Monday in April. And then I'm done. It will be time to pass the senior leadership into Marilyn's steady, capable hands. Like me, she will be fortunate beyond words to have Brandon and Tracy alongside her for next year's Impact Team process. And Marilyn has an excellent sense of humor, which will serve her well.
When my friend Kermit is truly impressed by someone's character, he will say, "there are not enough words in the dictionary to adequately describe" his admiration of the person. I'm going to borrow that phrase from Kermit as we ring down the curtain on our March United Way season. Brandon, Tracy, and Marilyn, there are not enough words in the dictionary to adequately describe my admiration and gratitude for your commitment and energy. You, and all the Impact Team volunteers, have made yet another March a success, and I have been fortunate beyond words to have shared the experience with you.
See you April 17.
I burst out laughing. Brandon, our United Way president, gave her this look and repeated, "grow a gill?" And with Marilyn's statement and our responses, I knew we had officially crossed into United Way March Madness.
As I wrote last year, for those of us who volunteer as Impact Team members for United Way of Delaware County, March is not about tournament brackets, Cinderella teams, or the Final Four. Rather, it is about reading funding proposals, two weeks of agency site visits, and team meetings that run up to three hours while we discuss the merits of the proposals.
Today was Day Two (and the final day) of those marathon team meetings.
As a warm-up exercise both days, Tracy, who is Community Impact Manager for United Way, had us go around the room, introduce ourselves, and throw out one word that described the Impact Team process:
Enlightening
Difficult
Educational
Baffling
Demanding
Thorough
Surprising
Overwhelming
Rewarding
Confusing
Enriching
Excellent
Challenging
Empowering
The Impact Team process is all of those words and more. It is an uplifting and humbling experience. Every year I come out of March in awe of the strength of this community.
I also come away punch drunk from the wackiness that envelops those of us closest to the process. Prior to this week, our volunteers conducted agency site visits. Yesterday and today, some 30+ volunteers reviewed 39 proposals over the course of four separate Impact Team meetings. Marilyn, Brandon, Tracy, and I attended all four meetings, read all 39 proposals, and between us, made sure that at least two of us (one CIC co-chair and one staff member) attended each site visit.
Little wonder we all get a little tipsy on United Way March Madness.
There was a lot of laughter yesterday and today. We get silly. This morning when Tracy gave her word, "grateful," she added "for all of you volunteers," then threw out "I love you guys!" in an Academy Award winning baritone. I looked at Brandon, who had yet to give his word, and said "top that." Rod, who works for Nationwide and is a veteran volunteer himself, pointed out the role Red Cross fills at local disasters, such as house fires. "Who's the first on the scene?," Rod asked, before answering, "Besides a Nationwide adjuster, that is." Another volunteer opined how unsettling it was as to how much personal information could be gathered easily from the internet. I said, deadpan, "I know. I look you up all the time!" Marilyn, describing an agency site visit and some of the volunteer comments, said, "well, it wasn't like acid reflux when we suggested it."
I'm going to miss United Way March Madness.
This is my fifth and final year as an Impact Team volunteer. I've had a long tenure, by local United Way standards, and I am grateful for that. I've loved it. I've loved getting to know my community even better than I had ever imagined possible. I've loved working with so many other volunteers from all parts of the county and many walks of life, some of whom have become friends beyond our United Way confines. I've loved serving as CIC co-chair, despite the extra hours and extra commitment.
I will help lead the CIC meeting in mid-April, at which we make our funding recommendations, and I will make the presentation to the United Way Board the last Monday in April. And then I'm done. It will be time to pass the senior leadership into Marilyn's steady, capable hands. Like me, she will be fortunate beyond words to have Brandon and Tracy alongside her for next year's Impact Team process. And Marilyn has an excellent sense of humor, which will serve her well.
When my friend Kermit is truly impressed by someone's character, he will say, "there are not enough words in the dictionary to adequately describe" his admiration of the person. I'm going to borrow that phrase from Kermit as we ring down the curtain on our March United Way season. Brandon, Tracy, and Marilyn, there are not enough words in the dictionary to adequately describe my admiration and gratitude for your commitment and energy. You, and all the Impact Team volunteers, have made yet another March a success, and I have been fortunate beyond words to have shared the experience with you.
See you April 17.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
March Whirl
United Way March Madness has started in earnest. Agency site visits, emails back and forth with my co-chair and UW staff, proposals to read. I have only a few left on my "to do" pile, but I have to REREAD proposals so I am ready for an agency visit. (And will reread them - or at least skim them - one more time before the teams meet the fourth week of March to discuss them.)
I am in the whirl of United Way. And nothing else in my life - court work, Symphony, laundry, my marriage - goes away during this month. It's busy around here. I have wanted to write for my blog and feel as if I have just had no time. No time, no time, no time!
Tonight I am making some time. Warren is at a Symphony meeting; my most pressing court work is done for the day; I have no agency visits scheduled for tomorrow.
Last Sunday afternoon was the Central Ohio Symphony's March concert. Concert Week is always packed around here; Warren is headed in about seven different directions at any time. From tickets to programs to rehearsals to staging, everything flows through his hands, directly or indirectly, during Concert Week.
There was an early afternoon rehearsal as the out-of-state soloist had not yet practiced with the orchestra. Warren and I went over midday to open the building. Standing on the empty stage, watching the almost-spring sun come in the windows, I took in the silence and the hush before the musicians arrived, before the conductor arrived, before the audience arrived.
The concert was stunning. Simply stunning. The guest soloist, performing the Sibelius violin concerto, was brilliant. Breathtaking. When the piece concluded, while her bow was still up in the air and Jaime had just lowered his baton, one concertgoer cried out - a vocalized gasp of admiration and longing - and then the audience stood up in waves for a lengthy ovation. One of my friends told me afterwards that he turned to his girlfriend at that point and said "that was possibly the greatest musical performance I will ever hear in my life."
Writing about it tonight, Sunday now seems so far away. As I noted when I started this post, I am in the whirl of things and my whirl starts with the phrase "United Way."
Whirl or no, I am not so far down the United Way tunnel (well, I don't think I am) that I am oblivious to the changes outside. After an unusually snowy February and bitter early March, spring has started to come on with a vengeance. The air is softer; it hit the high 60s by midafternoon.
I made a point of walking to all of my meetings today just so I could take in the changing scenery. Crocuses are up; daffodil shoots are up. I walked by several patches of snowdrops and some bright yellow flowers I do not recognize. I saw a pussy willow in bloom in someone's side yard.
In front of Robinson's, one of our local funeral homes, the yellow crocuses were in brilliant full bloom. That would have been enough to make me smile; I love the brightness. And then I noticed something small working the crocus patch. I stood for a half moment, watching, almost holding my breath.
The first honeybee of 2010!
Flower by flower, bee by bee, spring is muscling winter out of the way.
The poet Shelley wrote "If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?" I'm a step ahead of Shelley after seeing that bee today.
If Bees come, can Gardening be far behind?
I am in the whirl of United Way. And nothing else in my life - court work, Symphony, laundry, my marriage - goes away during this month. It's busy around here. I have wanted to write for my blog and feel as if I have just had no time. No time, no time, no time!
Tonight I am making some time. Warren is at a Symphony meeting; my most pressing court work is done for the day; I have no agency visits scheduled for tomorrow.
Last Sunday afternoon was the Central Ohio Symphony's March concert. Concert Week is always packed around here; Warren is headed in about seven different directions at any time. From tickets to programs to rehearsals to staging, everything flows through his hands, directly or indirectly, during Concert Week.
There was an early afternoon rehearsal as the out-of-state soloist had not yet practiced with the orchestra. Warren and I went over midday to open the building. Standing on the empty stage, watching the almost-spring sun come in the windows, I took in the silence and the hush before the musicians arrived, before the conductor arrived, before the audience arrived.
The concert was stunning. Simply stunning. The guest soloist, performing the Sibelius violin concerto, was brilliant. Breathtaking. When the piece concluded, while her bow was still up in the air and Jaime had just lowered his baton, one concertgoer cried out - a vocalized gasp of admiration and longing - and then the audience stood up in waves for a lengthy ovation. One of my friends told me afterwards that he turned to his girlfriend at that point and said "that was possibly the greatest musical performance I will ever hear in my life."
Writing about it tonight, Sunday now seems so far away. As I noted when I started this post, I am in the whirl of things and my whirl starts with the phrase "United Way."
Whirl or no, I am not so far down the United Way tunnel (well, I don't think I am) that I am oblivious to the changes outside. After an unusually snowy February and bitter early March, spring has started to come on with a vengeance. The air is softer; it hit the high 60s by midafternoon.
I made a point of walking to all of my meetings today just so I could take in the changing scenery. Crocuses are up; daffodil shoots are up. I walked by several patches of snowdrops and some bright yellow flowers I do not recognize. I saw a pussy willow in bloom in someone's side yard.
In front of Robinson's, one of our local funeral homes, the yellow crocuses were in brilliant full bloom. That would have been enough to make me smile; I love the brightness. And then I noticed something small working the crocus patch. I stood for a half moment, watching, almost holding my breath.
The first honeybee of 2010!
Flower by flower, bee by bee, spring is muscling winter out of the way.
The poet Shelley wrote "If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?" I'm a step ahead of Shelley after seeing that bee today.
If Bees come, can Gardening be far behind?
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Racing Derby
March has started fast right out of the gates. It is Symphony Week (concert this Sunday). It is United Way Reading Week, with agency visits starting next Monday at 9:00 a.m. I have read 30 of the 39 proposals at this point. (And, no, Katrina, I am NOT whining. I am pumped for United Way March Madness to begin!)The pace is brisk around here. I can hear the thunder of hooves.
I love carousels. (Weren't expecting that jump, were you?) I have always loved them. As a little girl, my ride tickets at the county fair would go only to the merry-go-round and the Ferris wheel. Nothing else came close.
While I have always loved the beauty of a horse, there is something Big and Large and Uncontrollable about a real one. My lifelong friend Cindy has spent most of her life on the back of a horse and I admire her comfort and ease around them. Me? I like to stand on the other side of the fence and watch. I'll gladly pat their flanks, but don't expect me to sit easily on top of one.
On a carousel, though, the horses are brilliantly colored and easy to mount and you can ride like the wind (accompanied, if you are really lucky, by an authentic band organ playing traditional music).
Cedar Point Amusement Park, in Sandusky, Ohio, contains one of two "racing derby" style carousels left in the country. On that type of carousel, the horses go back and forth, rather than up and down. The horses are four abreast; the rider "races" the other riders in the lane. After you have ridden it a time or two, you learn how to sit to make your horse stay in the lead.
Racing derby carousels have a distinctive rumbling sound to them. This is largely due to the power needed for the turntable to reach its top speed of 15 mph (which is pretty fast for a carousel). The rumble sounds like thoroughbreds pounding down the home stretch, which adds to the fun of the ride.
And brings me back to March starting off fast right out of the gates.
March is supposed to come in like a lion and go out like a lamb.
Mine came in with the thunder of hooves.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
To Make Tomorrow Better
The United Way allocation season is underway. We had our team meetings last week and the volunteers chose which proposals to read and which agencies to visit. Tracy is busy finalizing the site visit schedule. March Madness Without the Hoops is about to begin.
My stack - I read all 39 proposals as the CIC co-chair - awaits me in the living room. I already have a stack of notes on top of the stack of proposals to remind me of questions I want to ask or items I want to look for as I read. Between now and the end of April (the month, not me, I hope!), United Way will get a lot of my time and my thoughts.
We are fortunate in that the campaign appears to be holding its own after taking a hard hit last season. If everything comes out where we think it will, United Way will have approximately $1.7 million dollars to allocate.
That is a very nice number, until you realize that the requests total a little over $2.5 million.
The needs have increased because of the Great Recession. The agencies that receive state funding have lost funding; the agencies that rely on donors are trying to stay even. The local impact of the Great Recession has been significant.
Monday, as Patricia and I walked, she voiced her husband's opinion that "we haven't seen the worst of it yet" here in Ohio. He works in a state office and is watching the state financial picture tilt from precarious to bad to worse. I agreed with her, and immediately thought of all those United Way proposals sitting on my coffee table.
United Way campaigns nationwide are wrapping up in the next few weeks; ours is winding down as well. When our CIC meets on April 17 to make funding recommendations to the Board, we will know the final total we have to allocate. We will know if we indeed have the $1.7 million. We already know that whatever that final number is, it won't equal the amount of requests. It will be in our laps to make the best recommendations possible as to where those dollars should be spent to do the most good in our community.
Many of our local United Way agencies work with folks at the ground level of poverty and need. Others work to prevent their clients from sinking to that ground level. Still others work to help boost their clients a little higher above whatever level they may be on right now. All of them - clients and agencies alike - are hoping for a better tomorrow.
This is my fifth and final year as a United Way volunteer. Volunteers rotate out, to keep the views of the readers fresh, and it is time for me to step aside. It has been a wonderful experience, one of the most significant and meaningful of my community involvement.
I started reading the 2010 proposals last night. 38 other United Way volunteers in Delaware County are doing the same thing over the next two weeks. Tracy and Brandon at the United Way office are doing the same thing as well.
Godspeed to them and to all United Way readers everywhere who are giving their time and commitment to make tomorrow better for us all.
My stack - I read all 39 proposals as the CIC co-chair - awaits me in the living room. I already have a stack of notes on top of the stack of proposals to remind me of questions I want to ask or items I want to look for as I read. Between now and the end of April (the month, not me, I hope!), United Way will get a lot of my time and my thoughts.
We are fortunate in that the campaign appears to be holding its own after taking a hard hit last season. If everything comes out where we think it will, United Way will have approximately $1.7 million dollars to allocate.
That is a very nice number, until you realize that the requests total a little over $2.5 million.
The needs have increased because of the Great Recession. The agencies that receive state funding have lost funding; the agencies that rely on donors are trying to stay even. The local impact of the Great Recession has been significant.
Monday, as Patricia and I walked, she voiced her husband's opinion that "we haven't seen the worst of it yet" here in Ohio. He works in a state office and is watching the state financial picture tilt from precarious to bad to worse. I agreed with her, and immediately thought of all those United Way proposals sitting on my coffee table.
United Way campaigns nationwide are wrapping up in the next few weeks; ours is winding down as well. When our CIC meets on April 17 to make funding recommendations to the Board, we will know the final total we have to allocate. We will know if we indeed have the $1.7 million. We already know that whatever that final number is, it won't equal the amount of requests. It will be in our laps to make the best recommendations possible as to where those dollars should be spent to do the most good in our community.
Many of our local United Way agencies work with folks at the ground level of poverty and need. Others work to prevent their clients from sinking to that ground level. Still others work to help boost their clients a little higher above whatever level they may be on right now. All of them - clients and agencies alike - are hoping for a better tomorrow.
This is my fifth and final year as a United Way volunteer. Volunteers rotate out, to keep the views of the readers fresh, and it is time for me to step aside. It has been a wonderful experience, one of the most significant and meaningful of my community involvement.
I started reading the 2010 proposals last night. 38 other United Way volunteers in Delaware County are doing the same thing over the next two weeks. Tracy and Brandon at the United Way office are doing the same thing as well.
Godspeed to them and to all United Way readers everywhere who are giving their time and commitment to make tomorrow better for us all.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Faster! Faster!
"Now! Now!" cried the Queen. "Faster! Faster!" And they went so fast that at last they seemed to skim through the air, hardly touching the ground with their feet, till suddenly, just as Alice was getting quite exhausted, they stopped, and she found herself sitting on the ground, breathless and giddy.
The Queen propped her up against a tree, and said kindly, "You may rest a little now."
Alice looked round her in great surprise. "Why, I do believe we've been under this tree the whole time! Everything's just as it was!"
"Of course it is," said the Queen, "what would you have it?"
"Well, in our country," said Alice, still panting a little, "you'd generally get to somewhere else - if you ran very fast for a long time, as we've been doing."
"A slow sort of country!" said the Queen. "Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place."
"If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!"
This has been a Red Queen week for me (Warren too, but I'm not speculating as to his thoughts about it). Looking at my calendar tells the tale: rehearsals and performances of all kinds all last weekend ending midway through Sunday evening, evening meeting Monday, United Way agency training all Tuesday morning (it's almost that time of year again), Legal Clinic that night (22 clients plus family and friends, 6 attorneys, 3+ hours of intake and counseling, 2 pre-law students from OWU doing intake, 2 plates of fresh baked goodies, 1 attorney coordinator, 1 coffee pot, 1 pot of hot water, 1 jack of all trades(i.e., me) - do the math), small claims mediation all afternoon Thursday, Chamber dinner that night (our United Way received the Quality of Life award!), and then a long, long day yesterday that took us to Columbiana County in far eastern Ohio and back again, albeit the return trip was via Akron so we could have dinner with Warren's son, David.
That just brings us up to last night. And doesn't count the smaller moments - all the meals, laundry, swimming, walking, catching up with friends over a cup of coffee. (Along with Warren, my friends are the glue that helps hold me together when my calendar is running faster than the Red Queen.)
Today has been a catching up kind of day - finally finishing the bean soup that was started Wednesday night, baking two apple pies (just out of the oven) for our evening plans, washing the towels, working on court projects, working on Symphony projects (I often write for the Symphony). Warren is working on house projects, working on Symphony projects, and practicing. Our day today is a series of deftly woven events, interlaced with the rich smell of bean soup cooking and apple pies baking. Tomorrow holds a rehearsal and performance in Mansfield, and then the week turns over again. It is already full and ends with us heading to New York for the Midwinter Managers meeting of the League of American Orchestras and not returning until Tuesday night.
Despite the crowded schedule (and all of January has been like this), I don't feel the mind numbing rush that dogged my steps in December. That's not to say I am not exhausted at times; last night I was so worn out physically by the time we made it home that I stumbled over my thoughts and my feet more than once before finally dropping into bed.
But my spirit is not rushed and that has made all the difference.
Last night the three of us talked and laughed over huge servings of Barberton chicken at one of the local chicken house. David is funny and loquacious and so reminds me of his dad at about that same age. It was a space carved out of three busy schedules and filled with sharing and family. Tonight we'll share a meal and pie with friends and talk and laugh some more.
Alice had to run with the Red Queen in order to reach the first square of the giant chessboard that comprised Looking Glass land. She was eager to begin the game and reach the eighth square so she too could become a queen. After all, as the Red Queen promised, "in the Eighth Square we shall be Queens together, and it's all feasting and fun!"
I don't know about being a Queen, unless I am a Queen of Pies, but I do know about feasting and fun. And about friends and family.
And about making sure I don't find myself running in place so fast that I miss out on them.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Moment of Grace, Moment of Gratitude
It is United Way campaign season and this year I volunteered to help give workplace talks to encourage employees to sign up for payroll deductions. This morning I did my first talk at the huge diaper factory on the edge of town.
The diaper factory runs 12 hour shifts that start and end at 6:30. I was there to talk a few minutes about United Way. There were about 100 employees - both permanent and temporary - in the "Town Hall" as the shifts ended and started.
The diaper factory is a grueling place to work. The work is hard. The main factory floor, brightly lit and immaculate appearing, is noisy. Everyone wears ear plugs. The shifts, which follow a 2 week cycle, can throw your body clock to pieces if you are not prepared. I know because my son Sam and some of his friends worked there last summer, thinking they would make "real money" now that they were 18 and could work anywhere. Sam's body clock was so thoroughly wrecked after a few weeks there that he finally quit because he never knew whether he was coming or going.
So I was doubly appreciative of the men and women finishing their shifts who came in to listen to the pitch. They're tired. They're ready to drop. I suspect some of them, especially the exhausted looking teen in the front row, may have been doing it because they didn't have to clock out until the meeting was over. But more employees than I would have guessed were there because they believed in United Way.
How do I know that? Because after the campaign video and after my brief remarks, the campaign coordinators for the factory passed out the enrollment forms and many of the men and women in the room proceeded to fill them out.
That was a moment of grace.
What floored me the most, bringing tears to my eyes, was that a number of the temp workers (distinguishable by t-shirt color) also filled out forms.
That was a moment of gratitude.
Temp workers don't have it easy. They get no benefits; they usually get less pay; they often have little chance of being made a permanent employee at a job site. Currently there are rumors that this factory will be cutting back shifts and laying off workers. If that happens, the temps are on the frontline of expendability.
Yet here they were, filling out pledge forms, committing to helping out the 2009-2010 campaign.
Our local United Way funds 20 community organizations, many of which are integral strands in the community safety net. In the few moments that I spoke, I touched solely on that topic: these agencies bind our community together, we are going through tough times, and helping United Way strengthens our community.
I have a feeling, looking at the faces, that my few words were unnecessary. The workers filled out the cards because they believed in the power of standing united.
As I left the factory, the sky was reaching a crescendo of colors just before the sun slipped over the horizon. I turned onto the highway back towards town and the colors just washed over me. I thought about what I had just seen, I thought about the temps filling out their pledge cards, and the tears came back.
Moments of grace, moments of gratitude. This morning I witnessed both.
The diaper factory runs 12 hour shifts that start and end at 6:30. I was there to talk a few minutes about United Way. There were about 100 employees - both permanent and temporary - in the "Town Hall" as the shifts ended and started.
The diaper factory is a grueling place to work. The work is hard. The main factory floor, brightly lit and immaculate appearing, is noisy. Everyone wears ear plugs. The shifts, which follow a 2 week cycle, can throw your body clock to pieces if you are not prepared. I know because my son Sam and some of his friends worked there last summer, thinking they would make "real money" now that they were 18 and could work anywhere. Sam's body clock was so thoroughly wrecked after a few weeks there that he finally quit because he never knew whether he was coming or going.
So I was doubly appreciative of the men and women finishing their shifts who came in to listen to the pitch. They're tired. They're ready to drop. I suspect some of them, especially the exhausted looking teen in the front row, may have been doing it because they didn't have to clock out until the meeting was over. But more employees than I would have guessed were there because they believed in United Way.
How do I know that? Because after the campaign video and after my brief remarks, the campaign coordinators for the factory passed out the enrollment forms and many of the men and women in the room proceeded to fill them out.
That was a moment of grace.
What floored me the most, bringing tears to my eyes, was that a number of the temp workers (distinguishable by t-shirt color) also filled out forms.
That was a moment of gratitude.
Temp workers don't have it easy. They get no benefits; they usually get less pay; they often have little chance of being made a permanent employee at a job site. Currently there are rumors that this factory will be cutting back shifts and laying off workers. If that happens, the temps are on the frontline of expendability.
Yet here they were, filling out pledge forms, committing to helping out the 2009-2010 campaign.
Our local United Way funds 20 community organizations, many of which are integral strands in the community safety net. In the few moments that I spoke, I touched solely on that topic: these agencies bind our community together, we are going through tough times, and helping United Way strengthens our community.
I have a feeling, looking at the faces, that my few words were unnecessary. The workers filled out the cards because they believed in the power of standing united.
As I left the factory, the sky was reaching a crescendo of colors just before the sun slipped over the horizon. I turned onto the highway back towards town and the colors just washed over me. I thought about what I had just seen, I thought about the temps filling out their pledge cards, and the tears came back.
Moments of grace, moments of gratitude. This morning I witnessed both.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
March Madness Without the Hoops
Some of us here in D-Town recently went through our own form of March madness, centered not on basketball but on the annual United Way agency review process. I have been involved with this for four years now, serving as a reader and scorer both at the grassroots level (the Impact Team) and the funding recommendation level (the Community Impact Council, or CIC). In a “normal” year, this means I would read and score several proposals and participate in two or three agency site visits over the course of two weeks, and attend one three hour meeting in March with my other Impact Team members to discuss the proposals in our impact area. Then, in April, I would meet with the entire CIC to discuss funding recommendations.
This year I co-chaired the CIC and my March became madness without the benefit of hoops, 3 point shots, or ESPN.
When you are co-chair of the CIC, you are responsible for not knowing just your own impact team (Health) but all of the UW impact areas: Health, Youth, Housing, Seniors and Core (essential community needs, like a food pantry). That means reading and scoring all of the proposals and splitting the site visits (I think there were 26 this year) with Bill, my co-chair. (He too read all of the proposals.) Just completing the two weeks of agency site visits was an accomplishment.
This week, now wonderfully ended, was Impact Team meetings week. Every morning at 9:00, the Impact Team of the day volunteers, Brandon (UW President), Tracy (Impact Team Coordinator), Bill and I met in a basement conference room and plowed through the proposals. Most days went two and a half hours, one team went three (lots of proposals, lots of discussion). Fueled on coffee and doughnuts and community passions, we talked and critiqued and agonized and debated where the needs and the dollars were. All of the agencies are feeling the lash of the Great Recession and we were all painfully aware that the needs are greater than ever while the dollars are not. The discussion stayed positive and constructive, a testament to the commitment of the volunteers.
The national slogan of United Way is Live United. Earlier in the year, Tracy asked us to give her some comments of how we put the slogan into action. I wrote that I lived United because I believe our community is strongest when we all come together. This week was living proof of that. If there was ever a community model that works, it is our local United Way’s review process.
In the end, Brandon, Tracy, Bill and I were so immersed in the process that we were slap-happy by Thursday and downright punch-drunk by the last session. The review process marked my dreams and dogged my days. It was Friday when I announced that I had dubbed this week “March Madness Without the Hoops.”
After the last session ended and we all staggered out, I walked home, giddy at it being over. What a great week! What an absolutely energizing, exhausting, draining, and uplifting week! I am deeply impressed by and grateful to all who participated, especially Brandon and Tracy of United Way and my co-chair Bill. My deep thanks to those three (and to all the volunteers) for their work, their dedication, and their vision, collectively and singularly.
You made this week sing for me.
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