Will Millennials helicopter parent?

In the comments of his recent post about Millennials, blogger John Woodworth asked me a question: Do I think Millennials will "helicopter parent" the same way that their parents did/do? Because it's rather long-winded, the response gets its own post.

In short, no. I don't believe Millennials will hover over their children to the same degree that their parents did – because it's not natural.

The parenting of Millennial children is a direct result of the information landscape of their youth. When most Millennials were born/preparing to be born, the Internet was not the mainstream source of information. Television was. And magazines, newspapers, and radio.

Not that long ago, publishers had complete reign over the information scene. They decided what was good for the masses and what wasn't. They called the shots – whether a self-help book made it on Oprah or a diet was featured on the Today Show or a parenting book was reviewed in The New York Times, etc.

If publishers decided something should be a big deal, it was. When parenting fads took hold, they took hold en masse. It only took one publisher to say, "Hey, every kid is special. Everybody should win!" Once that ball got rolling, parents didn't stand a chance. Their fate was decided. They were destined to raise Very Special winner-geniuses. Straight As for everyone!

While publishers still have a considerable amount of power – we still watch TV and listen to the radio and read newspapers – thanks to the Internet, the landscape is dramatically changing. We're no longer obligated to follow to publishers' curated streams. (Clay Shirky discusses this at length in Cognitive Surplus, which I highly recommend.)

We have a wealth of information at our fingertips anytime, anywhere. This means we're responsible for choosing what we want to consume and forging paths through information by following our own instincts.

New parents are no longer bombarded from all sides with "[Prescribed Method of the Year] is the Right Way" messages. They're hit from a thousand directions by a multitude of conflicting sources, each promoting a different Right Way. Since there's no possible way they can follow all the advice – breastfeed for 1 year, breastfeed for 3 months, breastfeed for 6 months – they have to choose a method that feels natural to them.

We all do this, almost on a daily basis. Just last night I turned to Google for help ridding my kitchen of fruit flies. Although I only clicked the first result, I had five different trapping options and an excess of prevention advice. Based on that information, I had to choose an option that sounded most reasonable to me. (I actually chose three. None of them are working yet.)

Had it been my mother at my age, she would have picked up the phone and called her mother, who would have given her one answer – whatever she'd always done – with maybe a little extra chiding about not keeping rotting bananas on the counter. (I totally don't.) (They're in the microwave now.)

Gone are the days of one right answer. So must die the days of parenting fads.

Since our primary information sources are no longer touting one exact right way to do anything, parents will get back to doing what feels natural. God willing, that will mean they stop raising Special little ego monsters who need Mommy and Daddy to negotiate their salaries.

Then again, maybe information inundation will terrify Millennial parents and cause them to be even more protective of their children. Let's hope not.

As a final thought, do you think this new information landscape might be contributing to Millennials' clinging to their parents? In addition to a coddled childhood, freshly minted adult Millennials may just be overwhelmed by the amount of information they have to sort through in order to figure out what to do. If Mommy and Daddy are willing to step in to help, why not let them?

Delusions of Grandeur no more

I changed the name of this blog. Delusions of Grandeur was no longer working. I liked the way it sounded, but I didn't like the way it trivialized everything posted under its heading.

Manifest Mentality is a more accurate portrayal of what my writing is about: putting thoughts out there, trying to make ideas clear.

Hope you like it.

Skills

I created this cartoon to illustrate some of my valuable skills. Thought you might enjoy it. All of the customer service stories are actually true.

(P.S. Now that I have a scanner, all those caddywhompus angles are things of the past. Hooray!)

Stepping out

I have made the difficult decision to leave my job at Girl Scouts. In two weeks, I'll be starting a journey that is still, in large part, a question mark.

I'm aware some–many–will question why I would leave a job without another lined up. I'm aware there is a stigma attached to resume gaps. I'm aware I'm at risk of disrupting my career path. And I'm aware that it's pretty much impossible to fully explain why I'm taking this leap.

Suffice it to say: it's the right thing for me to do.

Next? I have a few ideas, and my favorite is to be an information architect. I love words, design, and organizing information, and I've always excelled at combining visual and verbal elements to create intuitive paths through content. (That feels like a ridiculous thing to say, but it's true.)

I'm willing to do just about anything to get a foot in the door at an agency, where I could work my way toward becoming an IA. If that means starting as a project manager, I'll start as a project manager. If it means starting as a receptionist, I'll start as a receptionist.

If you have any connections that could help get me in the door at an agency, I'd really appreciate the help.

In the meantime, I'll be focusing on furthering my education (informally), committing to a job search, and developing MadInMinnesota.com.

This is an exciting new chapter, and I can't wait to see what it brings.

UnSummit, Mad As Hell, & MadInMinnesota.com

Yesterday was UnSummit 5, and, as always, it was a great day. Big thanks to Meg Gerritsen Knodl, Mykl Roventine, and Don Ball for putting it together.

Mad As Hell
I led a session called "Mad As Hell" about how we can start a movement toward civic collaboration. (The title/premise is inspired by this iconic scene from the movie Network.) It was a great discussion, and I really appreciate everyone who came and contributed.

Here's the short version:
The system is failing us – in hundreds of ways – and we as individuals feel powerless to do anything about it. We vote, and then wait for the people in power to make changes for us. Because that's all we feel empowered to do.

And even if we think there's something more we could do, society places such a stigma on "political" dialogue that we're often hesitant to talk about it. How can we come together to make positive change if we can't even talk about the issues we're facing?

Well, I want to get us talking. I want to get us moving toward collaboration. Because there's strength in numbers. And if we can come together, get the conversation going, and start making connections, we can make positive change happen.

With those goals in mind, I'm beginning a new venture: MadInMinnesota.com.

MadInMinnesota.com
My vision for this site, which I shared yesterday, is for it to become a collaboration tool. At this moment, it's a simple Tumblr, but I want to make it into something bigger – a place where people can connect, manage projects, track progress, share updates, plan events, and find valuable resources.

During the session yesterday, people had some really good suggestions for how to build and expand the site. I'll be asking for a lot of help and feedback in the coming weeks/months, and I'll be looking for people to participate.

For now, we need posts and comments.

Posts should simply answer two questions: 1. What are you mad about? 2. What are you going to do about it? (Question #2 is an important element.)

They could be short conversation starters:

What am I mad about?
I'm mad that the State government is about to shut down.

What am I going to do about it?
I'm going to start a conversation right here about possible solutions. What could we do about this if we found enough people to work together?

Or they could be more involved action plans:

What am I mad about?
I'm mad that broccoli costs more than a Big Mac. People with limited incomes deserve healthy food, too.

What am I going to do about it?
I'm going to gather 10 people and start a community garden in my neighborhood. We'll grow the vegetables, then we'll donate them to low-income community members.

Posts could be about any issue relevant to you. The main goal is just to start talking. (I should note: highly contentious or aggressive conversation is often counterproductive, so I encourage you to focus on making positive progress, rather than finger-pointing.)

If you have a few minutes today, please head over to MadInMinnesota.com and take a look. Submit a post. Leave a comment. I really appreciate your participation!

I look forward to hearing your feedback and to sharing further updates with you soon.

Personal/Professional

I am struggling emotionally right now. At work.

Last week, our team lost a very important player, and it has been a much larger emotional hit than I could have anticipated. She was more than a colleague–she was a friend. While I hope she will continue to be a friend, it simply cannot be the same as sitting next to each other every day.

She probably never realized how much her friendship meant to me, how much I looked up to her and valued her advice and guidance. She has helped me deal with some big life challenges, as well as many little ones. She introduced me to Rick Steeves before I went to Germany and told me how to care for the butcher block counter tops in the house I'm buying. She helped me figure out how to handle family drama and gave me perspective and condolence on silly arguments with my husband.

And I did my best to be there for her, make her laugh when needed, be a listening ear, provide the best advice I could offer.

Maybe it was a friendship of convenience and circumstance, but that doesn't make it any less real. She has been a constant presence in the next cubicle for the past three years. And now she's gone.

Frankly, I'm mourning.

But the beautiful thing about this feeling is that I know, more than I ever have, that I bring my true self to work. Although it may not be visible to everyone, it's here. It's sitting in a cubicle on Sunday afternoon trying to be productive when all I can do is feel the void next door.

I've said it before, and it's worth repeating: Your personal and professional selves cannot be truly separated.

I hear this constantly in the context of social media: "I don't want to mix my personal and professional lives." How can you avoid it? You spend so much of your life at work that it necessarily becomes a part of you. You are your work, and your work is you.

If you have ever felt the sadness that I feel now over the departure of a coworker, then you know there's something to this. You know the two selves are not really two selves at all.

Why do we cling so dearly to the separation? What do we think there is to gain? The idea that we're emotionless automatons when we come to work is simply a view that large corporations perpetuate so they can treat us as "human resources." Buying into that paradigm reinforces the idea that we're replaceable cogs.

That's not the world I want to live in. I choose a world where my work is part of me, and I feel it deeply when I error, when something gets off track, when someone I care about leaves. In turn, I bring the whole of me to the work–my passion, my enthusiasm, my drive to be better, not for a check but for the joy of improvement. I feel the success as potently as the failure. It gives each day meaning.

This will be a hard week–two weeks–month–but I am glad for that. I'm glad I have the ability to feel this deeply. At work. Because work is a part of me. And I give myself freely to work.

The myth of privacy

During the Superbowl on Sunday, a commercial aired for a car that recites real-time Facebook status updates for you. I thought the commercial was cute and the product absurd. I was also struck by the broader implications of this feature, the definite blow this presents to our notion of privacy online.

Let me paint you a picture
You're having a bad day. A terrible day, really. The copier is broken, which means the repairman is stationed behind your cubicle all morning grumbling noisily into his walkie-talkie. Additionally, your boss promised to have reviewed your presentation last week, and now you're waiting on him before you can make progress. But he still hasn't gotten back to you, and at the moment he's off at a client meeting with one of your other coworkers, who happens to be a good friend.

Finally, you cave. You give up on the morning and post a Facebook status: "Well, this morning is a waste. Can't get anything done while waiting on other people. Might as well play Farmville." There's nothing offensive in this post, and it's really not a big deal. Your profile is locked down anyway. Someone would have to be pretty malicious to spread this to your boss, and you have no reason to worry because your Facebook friends actually like you. You trust them with your information.

But what you don't know is that while you're feeding your flock in a fit of frustration, your coworker (Tina) and boss (Jim) are getting into Tina's fancy new Chevy on the way home from said client meeting. During the meeting, the real-time Facebook status feature in Tina's car was the subject of a brief and interesting conversation. Curious, Jim asked for a demonstration on the way home. Tina gladly obliged. She switches it on, and the first thing that pops up is your status: "Well, this morning is a waste. Can't get anything done while waiting on other people. Might as well play Farmville."

Ouch. Can you imagine what Jim's now thinking of you as an employee? Probably not good things.

You thought you were safe. You thought you could trust all of your friends, and your privacy settings were perfect, so by all reason, this shouldn't have happened to you.

You bought into the privacy myth.

Maybe you're thinking, "What an outside chance. You had to come up with a pretty elaborate story to get a scenario in which my information would be jeopardized."

You're wrong. It's not an outside chance, and I didn't have to be elaborate. I just like details. Here's another one. You post, "Really glad to get out of that dinner!" Meanwhile, at dinner, Guest shows Host a game on her phone, and your status scrolls by the screen. Whoops.

My point is, this is easy to do and common already.

The myth
The internet sometimes lulls us into a false sense of security. We have "privacy" settings and can "hide" information, but those labels are misnomers. There's no privacy. There's no hiding. There's only temporary or conditional hiding.

Until now, the only thing keeping our information within its restricted view is trust in the individuals we choose to share it with. We know that Sally can be trusted with our angst-filled Facebook wall, so we let her see it with no qualms. We know Greg isn't going to turn our private GChat into a company memo, so we go ahead and make a few suggestive jokes.

While we can still trust people, we really can't trust the technology that's delivering our messages to them. Slip-ups, accidental breaches of trust, are increasingly easy. We have to continually remind ourselves that what we say on the internet is subject to a much larger audience than we ever intended: the entire internet.

So what do we do?
My answer is really simple: If you're about to post anything with the hope that someone won't see it, don't. It's the same thing our parents have been telling us for years – if you have to look around before saying something in public, you probably shouldn't say it at all.

If you have any doubts about the content, let it sit for a while - an hour, two hours, or a day. Then, if you still feel like it's important enough to say, and you're prepared for the risk of your unintended audiences seeing it, go right on ahead.

Most of us don't have that much to hide. But if you do have things to hide, I suggest you find other outlets than social media to talk about them.

Twitter, "IRL"

Today I met one of my very first Twitter friends. Bob Knorpp (@TheBeanCast) and I connected via the Superbowl in 2009 (so it's coincidentally appropriate timing to meet now, almost exactly two years later).

That day, the 2009 Superbowl, was the day I fell in love with Twitter. All it took was the Superbowl ads hashtag, one experience with like-minded people connecting in real-time around the world, and I was hooked. I remember my husband regarding me bemusedly at the time as I kept telling him, "I am having so much FUN!" He had no idea. He still has no idea.

Since that day, I've been an absolute Twitter fanatic. I can say, without reservation, that Twitter is the one (non-human) thing that has added the single most value to my life. Nothing else comes close.

The people I meet and the things I learn on a daily basis enrich my life in ways I never could have anticipated. Two years ago the idea of heading into a room full of strangers would have terrified me. Now, it's one of my favorite things to do. I know there's a good chance one of my Twitter connections will be there, and I have never, not once, met anyone who was put off by being approached and asked, "Are you (insert Twitter handle here)?"

And even if I don't recognize anyone in the sea of strangers, thanks to Twitter and the ice-breaking practice it has afforded me, I'm no longer afraid to jump into a conversation, to approach someone and introduce myself.

People who dismiss Twitter as a place where you can learn what your coworkers ate for breakfast are missing out on an incredible relationship-building tool.

Maybe if you're advanced in your career and already well connected (or a famous Seth Godin), then Twitter would be a drain on your time. But if you're starting out in the world, unsure of yourself, looking to meet interesting people in an open, low-risk space, I honestly can't imagine a better place than Twitter.

Bob up there is quite possibly embarrassed to have inspired such a whimsical post, but his sudden "IRL"itude was just the impetus for a fit of reflective appreciation. Though he was among the first, he is one of dozens of people I've connected with since that Superbowl.

This state, this city, this neighborhood – every part of my environment – is enhanced by the people who share it. I'm lucky to share it with such a kind, generous, and welcoming community. And I'm even luckier to know who that community is.

I can't imagine what it's like for people who don't have that feeling of connectedness.

Overcoming doodling

I have a problem. I doodle. A lot. On everything.

Doodling has been a habit my entire life. As a kid, I liked to draw – I spent entire recesses filling notebooks with drawings of horses. Those concentrated drawing efforts eventually waned into a sort of passive, cartoonish doodling. In high school and college, I tended to doodle in the margins of notebooks and worksheets. This was never a problem. It was just a thing my hands did while my brain focused on the subject at hand.

I have come to understand that I am a kinesthetic learner – I learn by doing. Visual learning is also easy for me, but auditory learning is almost impossible. The tactile occupation of doodling helps me better focus on listening. It gives my hands and eyes something to do without taking brain power from what I'm hearing.

Unfortunately, this long-established auditory coping mechanism has followed me into my professional life. In meetings, usually with more than three participants, I have this uncontrollable habit of doodling. I say uncontrollable because I've been trying to control it. I'm tired of seeing cartoons on every piece of paper. It is just not professional. I know this.

I also know that the very act of doodling makes me look disengaged, and I was given some very helpful feedback that this habit could be undermining me professionally. Although those who know me know that doodling is not a sign of absenteeism, others cannot be expected to know that. They, understandably, react to me as if I'm checked out.

I became vaguely aware of this in college when I noticed that professors tended to dislike me at first and only respected me after I'd turned in the first assignment (i.e., when they realized I was actually a good student). It didn't matter much then, as long as my work was solid. Now, though, it matters.

Oh, and I have another unpleasant component to my listening skills: when I'm not doodling (and even sometimes when I am), my eyes can kind of gloss over/lose focus, like I'm lost in a whole other world (see illustration). Fun, eh?

Bottom line: I need to find a way to make my body language communicate that I actually am engaged during meetings. And I could use some tips for how to make that happen.

Obviously, I need to work on eye contact. Figuring out where to look during large-group meetings is daunting, but I'm told this gets easier with practice.

My primary concern, however, is how to quit doodling, ideally without disrupting my ability to listen. Ideas on the table:

• Take copious notes. This is an idea from a coworker. It would give me a physical occupation and a record of what happened during the meeting. Potential problems include slow handwriting, a listening barrier in the lag between hearing words and getting them on paper, and a decreased value of notes in general, as I currently tend to write only things that I'd like to follow up on later. So far, this is the strongest contender.
  
• Become a fiddler – pens, trinkets, etc. This would give me a physical occupation that requires little to no mental capacity. Potential problem is that it's really, really annoying. Is that better or worse?
  
• Quit cold turkey. This could possibly work for me because I respond well to absolutes. Potential problem would be a decreased ability to listen.
  

I'd love to hear from anyone else who has overcome doodling. What has worked for you? What hasn't?

What coping tips do folks have for the auditorily challenged? How do the kinesthetic/visual (and introverted) types get through meetings?

Any help would be greatly appreciated.

Assuming an air of authority

On the way home from dinner tonight, my husband and I began discussing how simply acting confident and knowledgeable will lead people to believe you are, in fact, knowledgeable.

I said, "That's one of the things I feel uncomfortable knowing."

When he asked why, I explained that it feels misleading to project more confidence than you actually have, particularly in situations where you may be able to suggest a solution to a problem, but it might not be the solution. It seems disingenuous, particularly when people are apt to rely on your word as being the authority. I feel uncomfortable when other people place that much trust in me, and I dislike the influence acquired by turning on the Confidence Projection behavior.

He said, "But sometimes people really need you to be the authority. It doesn't matter if the answer you give them is the best answer possible. They need someone to give them an answer, and they've chosen you to do it. At that point, they need you to be confident in whatever answer you give."

And just like that, he gave me a little gift of insight (he does that sometimes), something so seemingly obvious that it's strange I'd never thought it before – at least, I'd not articulated it.

As a person who's often honest to a fault, the idea of lying – or being misleading in any way – for the benefit of others is foreign to me. Yes, I'm the person who doesn't believe that lying about your hideous new haircut will do you any good. It may make you feel better now, but if you're led to believe it's amazing, then you'll keep getting it and keep looking weird. But at least with the haircut thing, I've been sufficiently socialized to know when to lie.

Being a leader isn't as simple as lying about a haircut, though, is it? There's much more at stake. You're influencing opinions and making decisions that affect more people than you. I'd always thought it was about doing what's right, leading people in the right direction.

But maybe that's a flawed idea of leadership. Maybe it's just about doing something, leading people in a direction – the best direction you can think of – because without that, they'll just be milling around, getting nowhere.

Having a less-than-perfect solution is better than having no solution at all. And because of that, it's OK, estimable, and even right to turn on that Confidence Projection and throw the full force of your influence behind your less-than-perfect solution. They need you to.

When someone asks you to be an authority, they want you to be authoritative. You won't do them any favors by second-guessing yourself or being uncertain. You'll just cause them to question you – and themselves, by extension, for putting you in charge. It's your responsibility to be confident.

This is what I learned while driving home from sushi.

Social media lesson from 1996

"You can't take something off the Internet. That's like trying to take pee out of a swimming pool. Once it's in there, it's in there."
- Joe, News Radio

Grateful: Better late than never

I'm grateful for people, for you, for friends and the characters in my life.
I'm grateful for food.
Red wine.
Good books.
Yes, Jane Austen.
I'm grateful for my job, my work, my passion.
Grateful that I care.
I'm grateful for the hopes and dreams, the very real visions I have for the future.
Someone to share that future.
Maybe a family someday.
I'm grateful for maybes and possibilities, open books.
I'm grateful for nephews.
Play Doh.
Catching frogs.
I'm grateful for family, my siblings and parents.
Grateful for aunts and uncles and grandparents.
Warm embraces, reluctant goodbyes.
I'm grateful for community, connectedness, and sharing.
Ideas all day in the cloud.
A sense of togetherness, a constant stream of friends.
I'm grateful for laughter.
Comedy.
Silly moments.
And tears.
I'm grateful for feeling, the ability to be hurt.
I'm grateful for living, breathing, experiencing.
Faith in something good.
Faith in tomorrow.
Faith in what's real, today.
I'm grateful for imagination, that world inside my head.
Fits of whimsy, fits of joy.
A meowing cat.
A favorite chair.
I'm grateful for movement, for youth, for a lifetime to grow.
I'm grateful for colors and beauty.
The sky.
Ocean.
And trees.
Snow falling in streetlamps' soft, orangey glow.
The tree outside my office in the moonlight obstructed by clouds.
Immense space, air to breathe, a place to go and reflect.
That bench on the hill, that little refuge just for me.
I'm grateful for children, for their light.
Their open arms.
I'm grateful for their hugs.
Lifting up and spinning around.
I'm grateful for music, a remembered moment, a kindred soul.
A dance in your apartment.
Comfortable pants and puffy robes.
Hot cocoa.
New socks, soft and warm, snugly hugging little toes.
I'm grateful for scents and senses, simple tactile pleasures in a day.
Morning coffee.
Christmas trees, thunderstorms, and fresh-cut grass.
Cuddling under blankets, keeping warm on Saturday morning.
I'm grateful for the little things, all around, all the time.
The things that make life rich, the things that make it simple.
Hundreds and thousands of moments.
I'm grateful for this, right now.
Look around.
This.
The life to be grateful for.

Dreaded orthotics: Please send help

In spite of my last post expounding on all the ridiculous expectations placed on women and how it's OK to be flawed, you can't meet every expectation, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, I really care about my image and how I look. Really. As much as I wish we weren't living in such an image-conscious society, we are.

And so it was with great dread that I heard my physical therapist chastise me for wearing flats. Flats! I said, "Well, I can't wear heels." And then it happened. He said the dreaded, terrible word... Orthotics. Grandma shoes. Shoes that look like this:




If I want my knee to get any better, I'm going to have to suck it up and wear these "sensible" shoes for awhile (hopefully not forever... oh god).

As a woman who appreciates style, who wishes she could wear stilettos and thigh-high boots and all the wonderful, shiny things we're taught to love, this is tantamount to a tragedy. It's as if I'm being punished for having an injury.

So, I am trying to figure out if there's any way I can have my cake and eat it, too. Is it possible to wear orthotics and also maintain a semblance of style?

Who can I even go to for guidance on this sort of thing? Doctors don't know style, and stylists don't know orthotics. It's like the Shoemuda Triangle - no one can save you.

If you have any ideas, please help. I don't want to be a grandma yet.

Why I support Girl Scouts

I sometimes joke about my job and trivialize the work to get a laugh. But in all seriousness, I truly believe in Girl Scouting.

I'm putting aside my marketing writer hat for a moment. This is Meghan talking, not the organization. These opinions are my own.

Girls have it hard. We hold girls to impossible standards, through media, through upbringing, through social norms. We send girls bizarre, mixed messages about what they should aspire to, what women should be.

Women should be sexy.

Women should be cute.

Women should be innocent, naive.

Women should be smart, cunning.

Women should be indirect, diplomatic.

Women should have curves.

Women should be thin.

Women should aspire to the same career success as men - executive, entrepreneur, thought leader.

Women should be mothers.

Women should devote themselves to their families.

Women should be stylish.

Women should know how to accessorize.

Women should wear high heels.

Women should wear make up.

Women should take themselves seriously.

Women should take each other seriously.

Women should lift each other up.

Women should look out for themselves.

Women should be in science and technology.

Women should be fit.

Women should be in charge of their own health and sanity.

Women should be slutty.

Women should be selective of their partners.

Women should please men.

Women should please themselves.

Women should be in porn.

Women should accept porn.

Women should be one of the guys.

Women should be mysterious.

Women should be blond.

Women should have long hair.

Women should take care of their parents.

Women should wear dresses.

Women should be honest.

Women should protect others' feelings.

Women should know how to change tires and oil.

Women should be assertive.

Women should be patient.

Women should be kind.

Women should be everything to everyone.

And if you fail?

You're outcast. You're weird. You're second-class. You're insecure. You're left out.

We tell our girls so many things, but who's telling them the important things?

It's OK to be flawed.

You can't live up to every expectation.

All you really need to succeed are a few good relationships and some practical life skills.

Whatever route you pick, just make sure it's the right route for you.

Models in magazines are air-brushed.

It's OK not to have a boyfriend in high school.

It's OK if you do.

Your opinions matter.

You have the space to be who you really are, whether that's an astronaut or a mother - and chances are, you'll have to choose.

You deserve to be treated with respect.


Girls need special attention. Girls need sacred spaces with other girls and adults they trust, spaces in which they can be themselves, take up space, and have a voice.

We hear story after story of girls who attribute all of their confidence to Girl Scouts. If it weren't for the friendships they formed, they wouldn't be who they are today. Because they had a safe environment, they found the courage to be themselves.

Yes, there's a stereotype about Girl Scouting. Yes, girls sell cookies. Yes, they sometimes do crafts.

But I encourage you to look beyond the stereotype, look beyond the cookie sale (which really is a great financial literacy program, by the way), and see the remarkable potential this program has to touch the lives of girls.

I truly believe that Girl Scouting has the power to change girls' lives. That's why I work here. That's why I donate. That's why I'm writing this post.

I joke, but it's not about my salary. It's not about Thin Mints. It's about young girls hearing the right message at the right time so they can grow into strong, confident women who have the ability to choose their own path.

It's Give to the Max Day. No one asked me to write this post. I'm just putting it out there. Think about supporting Girl Scouts today.

Personal social media strategy

I've been hearing really smart people talk about personal social media strategies with alarming frequency lately. In 2009 there was a huge focus on your personal brand, but in 2010 a lot of that talk seemed to go away. The Twitterverse, at least, has felt much less pedantic and much more social, even among the smartest circles.

So it was with some surprise that I heard several people bring up personal social media strategies within the past week. The concept, if I understand correctly, is that you should approach your personal social media use similar to the way an organization would:

• Set goals
• Determine an audience
• Create strategies
• Evaluate success

I wouldn't say this is particularly revolutionary, but it's surprising and vaguely off-putting. First, I'm not super thrilled about engaging in a space in which everyone has an agenda. Yes, people in real life have agendas all the time. However, I doubt most people sit down in the morning and map out a strategy for the conversations they'll have throughout the day.

"Well, today I really need to boost my positivity rating at work, so I will compliment the CEO once (and only once, so I don't look insincere), offer to pick up lunch for my supervisor, and make sure someone sees me doing the abandoned dishes in the kitchen sink."

People who do think like that are either evil geniuses or complete jerks. Probably both.

I do recognize that while our day-to-day activities are transient, content that's put online is relatively permanent. And yes, that kind of gravity should require additional planning and consideration.

But is it really feasible (or enjoyable) for individuals to operate under the "set a strategy and monitor it" model?

Here's my hang-up: life changes. Your goals change almost daily. For an organization, goals can remain far more stable. You can have large, umbrella objectives like "engage members" and "increase sales." But most people can't really make those kinds of goals for their lives because too much changes too quickly, and it takes time to build an audience.

For instance, let's say you're a regular person with a day job. You like talking to people and reading random, interesting articles throughout the day. Your goal with social media is to entertain yourself and meet people. You develop a network of people who like to socialize and share interesting information. Go you.

But then you become unemployed. You need a job more than anything.

Should your goal in social media change with your goal in life? If you have a network of people who enjoy beers and silly links, will they appreciate your sudden change to "mobile development thought leader"? Will they still want to hang around you when you focus all your energy on pumping content you think will help you get a job as a mobile developer?

You could spend months building up an entirely new network, just to reach one specific goal. And then what? Do you need to continue in "job hunt" mode, constantly trying to prove your worth once you're gainfully employed? Or can you go back to socializing and silly link sharing?

The obvious answer is that your social media strategy should encompass and reflect all parts of yourself at all times, right?

A mobile developer's objective should be "to develop a diverse social network, including people who share silly information, who enjoy socializing in person, and who work in the mobile industry, while also building my own reputation as a thought leader in mobile development."

Barf.

...

OK, I actually believe that's perfectly valid. I just hate thinking about life in that way. I'm an Intuitive(N)/Perceiving(P) Myers-Briggs personality type, which means I like to have an idea of the big picture and to just figure out how to get there as I go. I don't like setting goals and laying out strategies and tactics if I can help it.

Clearly, I know that I'm interested in interactive marketing. I know that I like to laugh and to make people laugh. I know that I'm awkward but do enjoy meeting new people. I know that beer and coffee are the two greatest beverages on earth. And I know that I measure success based on progress in my field and by growing a diverse, positive network, increasingly comprised of real-world acquaintances.

Do I really need to say, "My social media objective is to develop a diverse, positive network, including people who enjoy, among other things, beer, coffee, humor, and gatherings, while also developing my reputation as a competent interactive marketer and occasional humorist"?

Do I need to set SMART goals for this objective? "In November I will increase @ replies containing the acronym 'LOL' by 15% for a total of 25."

On November 30, should I "circle back" to measure my progress?

Should all of my interactions be calculated against an objective?

I'm genuinely conflicted about this idea. On one hand, how can people work on being their authentic selves if they're constantly holding their interactions up to some arbitrary goal? On the other, how can you be expected to know what you're doing if you haven't actually articulated it?

Maybe I'm being a bit rosy in imagining that people generally have a grasp of who they are and what they're looking to do on any given day without clearly articulating it. Or maybe I'm being naive in thinking that it's possible to just fumble along and have things work out the way you'd hoped.

Or maybe every aspect of our lives is becoming a little too results-oriented. Maybe some things should remain the way they're meant to be: social. Enjoyable.

Does everything have to have a goal?

Things To Read Before I Die

Well, I drafted a recap of the two-week trip to Germany my husband and I took last month, and I've been meaning to publish it for weeks. The draft is sitting there staring at me like a hungry animal, but I really think it needs pictures and I seem to be stuck on this whole uploading photos business. I just don't have pictures to feed you right now, Beast!

Somehow sorting through hundreds of blurry photos of gargoyles just doesn't seem to be grabbing my attention at the moment. So, the draft remains on hold.

But I did do something interesting today. Prompted by in-laws and Christmas, I started my master "Things To Read Before I Die" list. Here's what I have so far:

Fiction

• Mansfeld Park - Jane Austen
• Grapes of Wrath - Steinbeck
• Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
• Middlemarch - George Eliot
• À la recherche du temps perdu (In Search of Lost Time) - Proust
• The Portrait of a Lady - Henry James
• For Whom the Bell Tolls - Hemingway
• I, Claudius - Robert Graves
• Alexander Trilogy - Renault
• Dr Zhivago - Boris Pasternak
• Tess of the D'Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
• Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
• Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? - Philip K. Dick
• Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
• The Lost Daughter - Daralyse Lyons
• Atlas Shrugged - Ayn Rand
• Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
• A Clockwork Orange - Anthony Burgess
• Call It Sleep - Henry Roth
• A Death in the Family - James Agee
• The Man Who Loved Children - Christina Stead
• A Passage to India - E.M. Forster

Nonfiction

• Drive - Daniel Pink
• Don't Make Me Think - Steven Krug
• Content Strategy for the World Wide Web - Kristina Halvorson
• Cluetrain Manifesto - Locke, Levine, Searls, Weinberger
• The Tipping Point - Malcolm Gladwell
• A Child Called 'It' - Dave Pelzer
• Churchill - Paul Johnson
• On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft - Stephen King
• John Adams - David McCullough
• Benjamin Franklin - Walter Isaacson
• Seven Pillars of Wisdon - T.E. Lawrence
• The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire - Edward Gibbon
• Lives of the Caesars - Suetonius
• If This is a Man - Primo Levi
• Loving Frank - Nancy Horan

Like I said, it's a start. This by no means encompasses everything I ever hope to read, but I do really want to read all of these.

What would you add? What should I really read that will disrupt my paradigm, make me laugh, make me cry, or otherwise turn me into a better person?

Challenges vs. Opportunities

Many people in business prefer the word "opportunity" to the word "challenge." The theory behind this is that people who see opportunities have a more positive outlook than those who see challenges. And I suppose there is validity in this.

But what about those of us who love a good challenge? Who view a challenge not as an obstacle but as something they must respond to?

Most of us are continually bombarded by opportunities. I have an opportunity to go to the movies tonight. To go to dinner. To call my friends. To stay at home. To eat some soup. To eat some donuts. To dance. To sing. To sulk. To go to Valleyfair. To join a club. To start a fight. To have an affair. To write a manifesto. To create a paper mache clown. To visit my grandparents. To invest in stocks. To go on a murderous rampage.

Opportunities are all around me, and most of them will not be taken.

But a challenge speaks to me differently. For instance:

"I bet I'm better at Scrabble than you are."

"Oh reeeeaally? Is that a challenge? Let me show you what's what."

It's competition, a desire to win that makes a challenge so becoming. I've done some of my very best work when overcoming challenges - tight deadlines, opposition, lack of precedent, etc. The challenge makes it fun.

When most people look at Mount Everest, I'm sure they see an opportunity to climb a mountain. But I'm willing to bet the only people who actually try it are those who see a challenge, who view the mountain as a taunt. I dare you to climb me.

I honestly believe that many people who do great things do it because they love the challenge. Yes, it's competitive, but it leads to amazing things.

Is there really anything wrong with that?

Joining the conversation about SMBMSP

It's about time.

(In other words, I have nothing to add to Paul's great post. I just really wanted to publicly declare my support for Rick and Mykl's decision.)

Am I an IA?

I just took the Am I an IA? quiz at the Information Architecture Institute. As dorky as that is, it was pretty exciting for me. I think I've finally stumbled upon a career that suits me. I've said that a few times in the past (about being a teacher, comedian, etc.), but I've never felt this confident about it.

Everything I'm reading about IA seems to indicate that it's a whole bunch of skills all rolled into one strategy-focused-but-still-hands-on puzzle solver. Who also works with lots of different people. Glorious.

Now I have to figure out how to get there. As far as I can tell, you don't just jump from nonprofit communications specialist straight into IA. Looks like I'm going to need some kind of preparation, some way to wade in.

First steps:

1. The "polar bear book" is in the mail.
   
2. Just registered in the IAI mentoring program. (I've always wanted to be a protege!) Looks like there is one available mentor in Minneapolis. Hopefully that works out.
   
3. Joined boxes and arrows.
4. Reading a lot of articles.

Do you have any idea how exciting it is to find a job that describes you? It's... awesome. I'm very excited.

Big reveal

In my last post, I talked about the project I've been working on for the past few months that I've so enjoyed - redeveloping our organization's website*.

Well, here it is: GirlScoutsRV.org.

Clockwork did all the design, technical bits, and a lot of the writing. I was responsible for corralling a team of internal contributors, helping them get the content into the CMS and editing/reorganizing a LOT of it.

It was a lot of fun. Now I am going to shut up and resist the urge to qualify our end product.

*Is it just me, or does that sentence sound sarcastic? Why do I always sound sarcastic?