dare to dream

Georgia and Macy Raddon: Bottle Cap Beauties Giveaway

Because I am a BIG BELIEVER in encouraging young girls to dream, I am thrilled to feature Georgia (Age 12) and Macy (10-corrected) who recently started Bottle Cap Beauties made out of customized bottle caps.  You can choose your own paper, design, initials, etc. Each necklace is $6; each additional bottle cap is $2.  They also have Scrabble letter tiles available for the same price.

Leave a comment by Saturday, October 9 and you will be eligible to win (1) of (2) customized necklaces or bracelets with up to three bottlecaps.  Here are some sample bottlecaps and sample papers.  (P.S.  One of the gifts is courtesy Georgia and Macy, the other is my treat!)

Below are some questions that I asked Georgia.  The answers are in her own words with some minor spelling edits by me.

How did you decide to start Bottle Cap Beauties?

Well, I am really creative, I have a big imagination, and i love art so i decided to share my love of art by selling necklaces.  I needed an assistant so I deciced to ask my sister, Macy, if she would help.  She said yes and so we bought everything and told all our friends and until this day we have been very secsessful and have made lots of money.  It is lots of fun. 

What are some of your favorite designs?

There are so many designs i don't think i have a favorite. Every one that we have made has been adorable, and everybody loves them.

How did you get the idea for these necklaces?
My friend in Colorado had the idea first and said that it would be cool if we had the same busseness but in different states. So we share ideas and have lots of fun!!!!!!!

Any suggestions for mothers who want to buy something for their daughters?
These neckleases are very unique; the design you pick should match you/your daughters' personality.  You can put up to 4 letters on each bottle cap.  Most people do their first initial.  You can have as many bottle caps as you want. I also do Scrabble tiles.

***
I love Georgia's exuberance.  She thought this would be fun; she knows she loves art (note that she was perfectly comfortable saying she was good at this), invited her sister to join in (asked her mother for help who initially reached out to me), and off she went.

Will you now leave a comment - whether you plan on winning or not (the gift is transferable), and tell Georgia and Macy -- ATTA GIRLS!

 

Why Technology Makes me Happier

This past week, Jennifer Aaker tweeted the following, referring to an article Technology Will Make You Happier, asking the question -- Why?    

Here's my answer:

Technology is enabling the finding of my voice.  I wrote in a 2007 blog post titled What If?, "the ease of blogging (have computer, can publish -- no rules to play by or political waters to navigate), many who would never have dreamed of being published in the world of old media, are now pointing, clicking and publishing here in the blogosphere."

That technology enables voice-finding has been true not only for me, but countless others.  Consider Chrysula Winegar.  In 2009, she talked of searching for her voice in the post Oh My Goodness, I Left My Voice on the Bus.  Less than a year later, Chrysula hosted a UN Digital Media Panel titled Changing the World, One Mother At a Time. Because she blogs and twitters, Chrysula's voice is no longer languishing on the bus.  As is the case with many of you, her voice is beginning to drive the bus.

Watch live streaming video from mashable at livestream.com

Technology is helping me change my corner of the world.  A dear friend of mine recently sent me an e-mail that went something like this:  my husband and children are thriving.  I, on the other hand, am not; I am a middle-aged, boring woman who doesn't know what she wants to do.

My friend really believes what she said, but some of it is patently untrue.  It is irrefutable that she is getting older, as are we all; you can read my birthday lament/musings here.  But her husband and children are thriving, in part because of the woman she is, and the home she has created.  The assertion that she is boring, that there is no future ahead of her, isn't true, no matter how true it may feel.  I know her to be smart, dynamic, wise, and beautiful.

Similar conversations with other close friends led me to start this blog.  If even one woman dares to dream because of what I've written, I will have helped change my corner of the world.

Technology is allowing me to connect with and build community.  When we feel connected to others, we are happier, thanks to oxytocin.   My blog is a virtual water cooler where old and new friends swap stories about daring and dreaming.  Twitter is a farmer's market of ideas.  As I participate in this idea bazaar, I am creating a community of professional peers.  And Facebook -- who hasn't reveled in the outpouring of birthday wishes?

Source:  istockphoto

My on-line network of professional female peers was particularly important this past week as I prepared to attend an industry conference for hedge fund, private equity and venture capital professionals.  Hundreds would be in attendance, but only about ten women, if I'm being generous.

This tends to be problematic because transitioning conversations with male conferees from talk of family and friends to shop talk tends to be difficult, dispiriting even, occasionally causing me to feel invisible.  Because the value of industry conferences is mostly about the networking, I consequently have to work pretty hard to get a return on my time, money and energy.

As I prepped for this year's event, Cali Williams Yost, a woman in my virtual network, encouraged me, rallied me me even, telling me that really showing up was important, not only for me, but also for the women who come after me.  That on-line conversation was pivotal.  Without technology, I wouldn't know Cali.   And I am happy to report that I not only talked to more people than in previous years, and I talked more shop.  In other words, I really showed up, and claimed my place.    

***

Nearly all of us want to find our voice, to change our corner of the world, and to feel connected. 

Technology can help us do all three -- and that makes me happy.

Does technology make you happier?

Avni Patel Thompson: Discovering What's Delicious with Brand Sundae

Avni Patel Thompson is currently the Global Marketing Manager for Reebok International’s Women’s business.  Her quest to find perceptive consumer insights and the next great product initiative has taken her from Procter & Gamble’s hallowed halls of brand management to The Boston Consulting Group’s Consumer and Retail practice.  Now at Reebok, she also enjoys blogging about the brand promise at: brandsundae.com.  Originally from Vancouver, Canada, Avni holds an M.B.A. from Harvard Business School and an undergraduate degree in Chemistry from the University of British Columbia. Avni enjoys writing and sports of any kind – watched or played.  She lives in Boston’s South End with her husband.

***

There I sat, on the eve of my 30th birthday, in front of my laptop, staring at the unassuming button on the screen.  Innocuous on the surface, clicking on this one button signified pushing my most cherished dream into reality, whether I was ready or not.  But it was time to take the plunge.  With a courage I wasn’t feeling with conviction, I hit “Publish”.

That was more than four months ago, where I brought my dual interests of writing and brand management together through my blog brandsundae.com.  Until that moment, I had always dreamed of becoming an accomplished writer, but in a vague, “someday” kind of way.  But propelled in part by the welcoming of another decade and the inevitable self-reflection that comes along for the ride, and in part by an inflection in my professional life, I had decided to make that dream a reality in some small way.

Source: istockphoto

The thing is, dreams are tricky.  We grow up thinking of them as bundles of hope and inspiration and possibility.  They sustain us through the good times and the bad.  But the reality of dreams (sounds like an oxymoron, doesn’t it?) is that they rely on a certain ambiguity and grandeur in their existence.  Actually acting on them, then, has the natural implication of needing to deconstruct these beautiful illusions into bite-sized, practical action steps.  Of course your dream will resist, wanting instead to live on as a graceful yet vague ambition.

I suppose each of us has experienced this tension in our lives, as we set our sights on a goal and embark to accomplish it.  I know I have.  For me, it was the right school, the right company, the perfect wedding.  Some goals were more modest, like choosing my next role at Procter & Gamble, others, like my lifelong dream to attend Harvard Business School were as challenging as I had ever known.  But they all had something in common.  They were all more or less concrete.  Each goal had a set of specific steps that I could build a robust action plan around.

I wasn’t until earlier this year, when I had checked off my most immediate dreams – marriage, MBA, job – that I realized I didn’t have the same level of goals set out in front of me.  Sure, work continued to be challenging and we would start a family in due time, but I had been so wrapped up in the next big, hairy, audacious goal that I now felt a bit lost without one.

Source: istockphoto

And so I started to examine that oldest, most precious dream again.  I spun it around in my head, looking at it from all angles.  At my husband’s coaxing, I even took a creative writing class, trying to find the outlet for my thoughts.  But still nothing felt right.  At the same time, at work, I continued to be challenged in my consulting job, but it was also missing that spark that I had felt when I was in brand management at P&G, delving into the consumer psychology of behaviour and the beauty of messages creatively brought to life. 

It wasn’t until one rainy night in April, when I rushed home from work to attend a women’s publishing panel at HBS, that I finally found my path.  This group of wonderfully accomplished women in the publishing world, whether books or blogs, showed me the way forward.  Including in particular, Whitney, whom I owe more than a fair share of thanks to getting this dream off the ground.  The natural intersection of my interests in brand marketing and writing passions became clearer.  The medium of a blog felt like a fit with my writing voice and time commitment as a part-time endeavour.

I raced home, recounting every minute of the evening to my husband at an unintelligible pace, an unstoppable bundle of ideas and plans.  With structure as my best friend for execution, I got started right away, setting up my blog, outlining a couple posts and setting off to write.

It wasn’t until I sat down on my birthday to actually publish that first post that the true gravity of the moment sunk in.  “What if no one reads it?  What if they think it’s horrible and I’m just a laughingstock?”  All the doubts began trickling in through my shiny wall of aspirations.

Source:  istockphoto

This was one of my toughest moments of mental debate.  Sure I’ve had times when I haven’t gotten that job or things haven’t gone my way, and the disappointment feels overwhelming.  But what happens if you fail at the one thing you’ve always had in the back of your mind as your ultimate hope?  If others find you to be lacking in the area you find most motivating?

Would it not be better to continue living in the realm of possibility, where the anticipation and illusion of wild success still have a chance of existence, if only in your imagination?

This wasn’t a matter of find the courage to hit “Publish”.  This was putting a stake in the ground as a commitment to a different path in life.  One that would lead me toward the vague unknown.  Melodramatic?  Perhaps.  But it sure feels like that when you’re debating putting yourself out there.

Needless to say, I decide to take the leap of faith.  It’s been a mere four months but I love it.  It provides me with the creative outlet I’ve always sought and I’m now starting to get feedback from friends and strangers (!) that they enjoy reading my posts and find them insightful.

Source:  istockphoto

And using this personal step as inspiration for my professional life, I also decided to make the jump back into brand management.  It has been two months since becoming the Global Marketing Manager for Reebok’s Women’s business and I love it.  It’s challenging and fast paced and some days overwhelming.  I’m back to asking questions that energize me and finding answers that inspire me. 

It’s not perfect, by any stretch of the imagination, but for the first time in my life, I feel a certain liberation and sureness of self that stems not from any external validation, but from a feeling of pride mixed with awe.

Dreams are tricky things.  They can make you soar and give you something to contemplate when daily life is too much.  But having given them a chance to shift into reality… by finding the courage and giving it a shot… I'm finding they’re infinitely more powerful in practice than in theory.

***

Have you recently had a birthday?  What self-reflection did you do?  Any commitments you made to yourself?

Acting on a dream requires that we "deconstruct these beautiful illusions into bite-sized, practical action steps".  Are you now in the process of acting on a dream, putting together an action plan?

Is there something audacious that needs to be tried, but it is resisting, wanting "instead to live on as a graceful yet vague ambition"?

As Avni began to write about brands, this triggered a career move.  Is it possible that you could also write your way to the start of your next dream? 

***

P.S.  You can read Why Avni loves brands in Promises, Promises.

Some of her favorite posts include:  Coke: the magic of something from nothing, Reebok: back to brand, and Storytelling for brands.

Is there a brand that you'd be interested in having Avni write about?  In addition to Diet Coke, I'd be interested in Manolo Blahnik shoes, Porsche and Target.  

And if you've created your own product -- like jewelry -- would you like to hear about how to brand that product? 

Thoughts? 

HBR Blog: To Get Paid What You're Worth, Know Your Disruptive Skills

Here's my latest post over at HBR:

This post was cause for a lot of introspection as I realized we consistently overlook our greatest strengths.

I'll look forward to hearing what you think.

Kylie Hunter: Little Girls Can be Mean (Part 2)

In this second of a two-part series, Kylie Hunter shares how it felt to be bullied and what she learned -- the post is in Kylie's words as dictated to her mother, Michelle Anthony.  You can read Michelle's perspective on Kylie's experience here.  If between now and September 15, you leave a comment on either post, you will be eligible for one of two signed copies Little Girls Can be Mean:  Four Steps to Bully-proof Girls in the Early Grades.  P.S.  Congratulations to commenters Tara and Teresa -- you've each won a signed copy of Michelle's book! 

Kylie Hunter, 10 years old, has won both state and national awards for her writing.  While Kylie has always had a tremendous imagination, it was during first grade—when she began writing letters to herself to cope with her yo-yo friendship—that her passion for writing was sparked.  Since then, she has written a children’s chapter book about her experiences with Sherrie, along with countless poems (you can read one of her poems below).  She is currently in 5th grade at an arts-integrated magnet public school.

***
It’s been a little more than two years now.  Two years since I finally broke off my yo-yo friendship with Sherrie.  When I re-read the notes I wrote back then, it makes me want to cry.  Those moments have dissolved in my memory, but what’s left is a puddle.  A puddle of all the meanness mixed together with no solidity. 

I remember feeling scared at night, but not about Sherrie.  About big monsters and bad fairies.  I was very confused back then.  I didn’t know whether she was nice or mean.  I couldn’t tell, because she stood up for me with classmates.  She invited me to sit with her at lunch.  She helped me when I was the new girl.  But what I didn’t realize was that the mean moments were more important than the nice moments, and the mean moments were a bigger deal.  Like the time she got me very excited about her birthday party—talking about it for days and saying how much fun we’d have together—and then intentionally didn’t invite me.  I felt so betrayed—by my own very best friend.  But maybe she wasn’t my best friend; that is what I couldn’t tell.

When I went to my teacher about it, she only made things worse.  She told me how I shouldn’t be worried.  How I should just toughen up.  So I felt like I had to toughen up, although I didn’t know how.  I didn’t know how to unlock the case in which I had been imprisoned.  One day I just broke down in gym and was sent to the school psychologist, to no avail.  I think she was trying, but all I could think was, “Those things won’t work.”  So I left feeling even more alone.

In my room, I’d begun writing letters about how I felt.  My mom found one and we began talking.   We both were kinda lost at first about what to do next.  I was still scared, but I finally had someone who I could trust and talk to about it.  Somebody who didn’t make me feel even worse.

People sometimes ask me why I didn’t just stop being friends with her.  They don’t understand: she was my best friend.  By that point, she was my only friend.  If I gave up my only friend, I wouldn’t have anyone to play with on the playground.  I wouldn’t have anyone to share cookies with at lunch.  I wouldn’t have anybody to stand up for me when classmates were teasing me. I wasn’t ready to let go of what we had.

So in those early days, I just wrote letters.  To Sherrie’s mom, asking for help, to my imaginary friends, to my teachers, even to Sherrie.  I didn’t send them, but it made me feel like I was taking control.  It took a long time—over a year—before I finally found my way out of that friendship.  And I am a different person now because of it.  Because of Sherrie, but also because of what I learned along the way—from those who helped, and those who didn’t.  I feel more confident than I did.  I have more skills than I did, and I know that nobody is in charge of me—that I am my own person and nobody can change that.  No matter how mean they are.  And I know how to reach out to adults and how to ask for help, and I also know what sorts of people I can trust, like my mom. 

So when I got the invite to Sherrie’s party, I thought carefully about going.   I knew I could avoid her, but I really wanted to try out my new techniques.  I wanted to show her and show myself that I was different.  That I had grown.  And I wanted to see my old acquaintance Sherrie again.  Maybe she had changed too.  Who knows?

***

Often children's verbal ability significantly outstrips their written communication skills.  Have you ever interviewed your children, allowing them to dictate to you their response?  What did you learn?  How did they feel?

In Michelle's post, she wrote that "girls struggle to find kind and appropriate ways to have influence and feel powerful." What are some ways that you can help the girls in your life learn to have influence -- in a good way?

It was in trying to cope with this experience, Kylie began to write -- and writing helped her find her voice.  Are we giving our daughters opportunity for self-expression, including really listening to them?  Are we listening to ourselves?

When my daughter guest-posted and you were all generous enough to leave comments, it was tremendously validating for her.  Will you do the same for Kylie?

***

P.S.  I thought it would be a special treat to share with you one Kylie's poems.  In light of her experiences -- and given the importance of friends as we dare to dream, I found this particular poem "Friends", particularly meaningful.

Michelle Anthony: Little Girls Can be Mean (Part 1)

In this first of a two-part series, Michelle Anthony talks about her daughter Kylie being bullied.  In Part 2, Kylie provides her perspective, how she felt and what she learned.  If you leave a comment on either post by September 15, you will be eligible for one of two signed copies of Michelle's recently published book LIttle Girls Can be Mean:  Four Steps to Bully-proof Girls in the Early Grades.   P.S.  Congratulations to commenters Tara and Teresa -- you've each won a signed copy of Michelle's book! 

***
Michelle Anthony has spent upwards of a decade working hands-on with children and parents around girl-related issues through her professional work, and as a mother to young girls.  As a result of her own daughter becoming involved in a series of “Mean Girl” interactions in first grade, Michelle's interest in this topic was personalized.  Michelle is a columnist and feature writer for Scholastic Parent and Child Magazine, and is a certified teacher and has spent many years in the classroom. She holds a B.A. in Education from Brown University, an M.A. in Child Studies and Teacher’s Certificate from Tufts University, and a Ph.D. in Developmental Psychology from the University of California at Berkeley.

***
2:30 PM. The party just ended.  Almost despite myself, I feel my heart racing.  After all, Kylie’s in fifth grade and has been to plenty of birthday celebrations.  But this is not a regular party, at least not for my daughter.  This party is for Sherrie (names are changed), Kylie’s former best friend who—a little over 2 years ago—tormented her for almost 2 years.  And Kylie being at this party was a chance for two dreams to be realized at once: hers and mine.

I remember I had been surprised when I opened the invitation and saw Sherrie’s name.  I double checked that the envelope had been addressed to Kylie, and had not been sent home by mistake.  And while I made it clear to Kylie that she didn’t need to attend, she surprised me by saying she wanted to.  My face went blank and she put her hand on mine and smiled, “Really, mom, it’s ok.  Things are very different now.”

I looked over at her, and I saw it for the first time: how much she had grown.  Such a different look than she had in first grade, when her struggles with Sherrie began.  The issues went on for months before anyone knew about them.

Sherrie was Kylie’s closest friend, and—at first—her strongest ally.  But a destructive power dynamic soon developed. It was amazing the hold Sherrie had over her—the power she had to take something wonderful and make it dark and fearsome to Kylie. Kylie was an avid believer in fairies, and (in the beginning) the 2 would laughingly imagine they were visited by fanciful fairies in the backyard.  But when things changed, Sherrie took Kylie’s passion for fairies and used it to terrify her—telling her about fairies that were evil and would harm her.

Kylie tried to speak to her teacher about her struggles midyear and was met with disbelief (“She’s such a nice girl; you must be misreading her intent”).  When she persisted, she was told to “thicken her skin,” which left her feeling more confused and alone.  It was only when I happened upon a scribbled note of loneliness that Kylie opened up and shared her isolation.

The day she finally broke the silence on her experience was the day that changed both of us.  Since then, my daughter and I have been on a journey of discovery, together.  To help her find her voice, and a path away from that sad, silent place.

But in working to understand what was happening to her, we discovered not only a language to talk about her struggles, but also a framework and a means to deal with them.

Along this path, I also stumbled upon the power of a new dream: to give other girls and other parents the means to understand these experiences before they take their devastating toll.   Through our many interactions with teachers, parents, counselors, principals, and elementary-aged girls, my co-author and I uncovered an unspoken epidemic affecting countless young girls, leaving them feeling similarly isolated and alone. And having more than one daughter has allowed me to understand—from both a personal and professional place—how many nice girls not only struggle with the mean things that happen, but also with how to find kind and appropriate ways to have influence and feel powerful.

Sitting outside Sherrie’s party, I realize what a winding trail it’s been, and yet, this is the moment I didn’t even realize is the one we’ve both been waiting for.  As Kylie clamors into the car, our eyes meet, and a silent smile passes between us.  This time the silence is from a common language that needs no words to be expressed.  At that party, in that moment, I witness Kylie confidently bound across a chasm.  A chasm that only 2 years before sent her plummeting, alone and afraid, with no safety net to catch her fall.

***

I often hear of adolescent-age girls bullying, but not of grade school girls.  However, as I spoke to Michelle, I realized that my own daughter was bullied -- by a best friend -- in her early grade school years.  We stereotype bullying as "big kid mercilessly beating small kid to a pulp", either physically or verbally.  But Michelle and Kylie's experience indicates that bullying can be much more subtle. 

Have you or your children had a similar experience? 

As you coped with this challenge, what did you learn about advocating for yourself?  Your children?  About teaching them to stand up for themselves?

When we say what we want out loud, that want gains power.  Interestingly, however, when we express our fears out loud, they tend to lose their hold. Is there something about which you need to break the silence?