Lobal Warming

Running the Jazz Half Marathon in New Orleans this morning with my son, Cory, reminded me that it’s people who make the world go round.

The start line was buzzing with happy feet at 6:30 a.m. (that’s 4:30 a.m. pacific), with runners in costumes and some already in the spirits for the Halloween day fun.  Strangers suddenly friends told tales of past runs, played “what’s in my water bottle,” and shared their personal record goals for the 13.1 miles.

Three minutes to start time, we crowded elbow-to-elbow as the Star-Spangled Banner began.  The crowd of about 1,800 was silent except for one solitary, baritone voice.  His tone was beautiful, clear and melodic, deep and soulful.  Heads turned to see my son singing, and by the twilight’s last gleaming, the multitudes joined him in song.  There was a sense of wonder and oneness as we gallantly streamed past the start line. 

Thousands of supporters littered the sidewalks.  Young and old, strong and frail, familes, friends and neighbors clapped, held up signs and beer mugs, and cheered us on.  Volunteers, many associated with Children’s Hospital, refreshed us with water, gatorade, and encouraging words.  Jazz bands and tiny dancers peppered the course.  Feeling no heat except to beat a personal record, runners enjoyed and helped each other throughout.

Despite my passing him at the 6 mile mark, Cory earned his medal 10 minutes before my finish.  His first half-marathon, I felt a mother’s pride over his commitment, resolve and less than 11 minute pace.  But I was perhaps more moved when in hearing my race time, he beamed proudly and said, “Wow. That’s awesome, Mom!” 

On a humorous note, when I told Cory he lifted the crowd and asked why he never sings when he plays guitar, he replied, “Mom, you know I can’t multi-task.”  Kind of like running and chewing gum. 

Department stores are piping in Alvin and the Chipmunks.  Tiny lights and off-tune carolers warm our neighborhood streets.  Salvation Army ringers are greeting and guilting us as we exit the grocery store with overflowing carts.  Nothing, and yet everything, has changed this holiday season. 

There’s irony in opening the morning paper to reports of more red ink and pink slips while eyeballing the Best Buy ads for a color printer.  Today’s business section was particularly grueling with news that U.S. households are cutting back on debt levels for the first time in recorded history, and Bank of America plans to layoff up to 35,000 employees over three years. 

You can sense a palpable hush in department stores as reticent shoppers conceal their delight over the unprecedented discounts.  Conversations about spending less echo at cash registers against the backdrop of wise men counseling us to spend more to revitalize an ailing economy. 

And parents are feeling a dichotomy between teaching their children lessons of compassion for the unemployed and underserved, and creating a magical Christmas resplendent with decorated noble firs and letters to Santa. 

While I won’t be painting our house mimosa, I’m optimistic about our long-term future with no pollyannaish notions about a quick recessionary bailout.  I see some hopeful signs amidst the economic wreckage.  While household debt has declined because loans are hard to get, we’ve lived beyond our means for decades.  Old habits are sometimes hard to break unless forced.  Maybe the credit crunch will inspire both short and long-term change.  

Another positive indicator is the growing global commitment to address climate change.  Mexico pledged to cut greenhouse gasses by 50% below 2002 levels by 2050, the most aggressive plan yet by a developing nation. 

But our shining beacon may be in the commitment shown by future generations.  The era of the Great Depression spawned what we in the U.S. term “the greatest generation,” toughened by the hardships of the Depression.  With the problems our planet and economies now face, it might take another battle-hardened generation to fix the mess a more privileged generation has spurred. 

So how can you help the next generation prepare and step up as leaders?  

You can teach the children and help them learn from past mistakes. 
Model behavior that will foster change in mindsets and actions. 
Inspire optimism for the future with a grounding in current realities. 

And give them something and someone to believe in.  Create magic.

IABC board member Adrian Cropley and I reach across landmass and oceans to coach each other in the definition and proper use of colloquialisms, slang and jargon used in Australia and the United States.  What started as sniggering over double meanings of terms we use in our native lands has become a cultural lesson demonstrating that words and phrases used in ordinary discourse in one country might be taboo in another.  Our lessons take place via email where we share definitions, practice use in sentences and punctuate our point with factually correct, but politically incorrect videos. 

In addition to bridging cultural divides, our humorous attempts at proper use remind me of the difficulty in learning another language.  The dreaded verb conjugations are bad enough, but then you have the multiple meanings, slang and countless new acronyms employed by Gen Yers and IT geeks. 

So Adrian love, as we give thanks for the end of harvest season in the states this week and ruminate over our lack of exports, here are a handful of holiday-related double meanings to mull.   While many have triple and quadruple meanings, I’ve opted for simplicity for the sake of learning.

Thanksgiving:  1) when the original settlers landed and celebrated the harvest with little food; 2) another excuse for Americans to spend an entire day overeating

Turkey:  1) the flesh of large domesticated fowl roasted, carved and consumed in mass quantities ; 2) a complete and utter fool

Pumpkin: 1) a hard, round, typically orange squash mashed and overcooked in a sweet pie; 2) a term of endearment like sweetiepie, muffin or the Australian pet name love

Pilgrim:  1) one of the band of Puritans who founded the colony of Plymouth, Massachusetts in 1620; 2) someone who looks like they just got off a boat (or yacht as they’re called in Australia) and hasn’t a clue where they are

Plymouth:  1) that place in Massachusetts where the pilgrims landed on a rock and remains the fascination of every tourist; 2) yet another U.S. automobile marque to meet its demise.

Foil: 1) aluminum wrap used to cover the fowl to prevent desecation; 2) to publicly humiliate an unruly relative at the Thanksgiving table; 3) in Aus, a $25AUD deal of weed

Football: 1) American game involving significant padding, an ovoid ball, tackling and brute strength; 2) a game played in Australia and other civilized countries involving a round checkered ball that’s actually played with the feet.

Give it a burl!  Much as I’d like to continue, the mob is arriving for Thanksgiving so it’s time for me to do a Harold Holt.

Meet Anna and Stacey, smart and savvy professionals and poster girls for Gen Y.  Anna works for a boutique PR agency in New Orleans and Stacey is IABC’s dynamite conference manager.  We were together 48 hours at a conference last week in Toronto where they shamed my stereotypes and altered my perfect cynical view of the future.

I’m a self-professed Gen Y expert raising our own two collegiate KIPPERS.  On top of being social junkies and fashionistas, Gen Yers are needy, blast what’s on their minds, punch above their economic weight (something about a $1,400 Keb’ Mo guitar with $146 in the bank) and want instant gratification.  They suffer withdrawals when the internet is down, are on the endangered species list without a cell phone and can’t survive minus the coolest gadgets.  

When I met Anna, I cursed my NOLA friends who gave her the gold star speaker rating and readied myself for unemployment.  What could a fresh 25 year old possibly teach an audience of senior communicators?  But Anna won the audience as they filled the room - a warm greeting, cautioning them to avoid tripping over equipment and musing over her ingenuity in bribing them to attend her session.  She was remarkably at ease in presenting her team’s Gold Quill award-winning case study, explaining the situation and challenges, objectives, research and evaluation.  It was the epitome of strategic communication planning and a flawless presentation.  And I was happily proven wrong. 

Stacey amazes me every day with her enthusiasm and efficiency, but I questioned my miserly wisdom in cutting a third staff planner to help with this size crowd.   With meetings on two levels and in multiple rooms, Stacey and I were registering attendees, promoting membership, downloading presentations, setting up audiovisual equipment, introducing speakers and playing block and tackle with the homeless during meal functions.  Stacey was inspired by the fast-paced work and multi-tasking, exceeding all expectations with a smile throughout.

So why the gap?  In raising Gen Y, we heaped praise on them to build their self-esteem, so they look for that recognition in the workplace.  They want to be heard and aren’t big on self-control.  They want flexible schedules and put their friends and family before their jobs.  And they set the bar high for themselves expecting just desserts in salary, promotions and training.  I think Gen Yers are simply a mirror reflection of what my generation wants to be, and we’re just a wee bit jealous. 

On the cockcrow flight to Toronto yesterday, passengers signed the oath pledging no unruly sounds, chatter or sudden movement during the first two hours of flight time.  The sympathetic crew prepped for take-off when our slumber was shattered by a plucky young woman chirping “good morning.”

“Back of the plane,” we all muttered.

She landed in 12B, the seat next to mine.  I mumbled the oligatory greeting, explained the valium would soon kick in and dozed off having been up since 3 am.

But I soon woke with the uneasy sense of being watched - similar to waking to find your cat eyeballing you so he can confirm time of death before feasting.  The Hannah Montana act-alike squealed, “Hi! You’re awake!  Can you help make sense of my voter’s ballot?”  “Sure, why not,” I yawned.  She did the litmus test confirming our picks for U.S. president matched up then handed over the ballot with the order to vote on “everything else.”  

Yeah that wasn’t happening. 

I asked what information sources she relies on to help her make sense of the issues .  She cited university professors, peers and a handful of international news sources as sources she trusts.  She shared her distrust for her Limbaugh loving parents, mainstream media and “deceitful PR flacks who spin campaign flyers and youtube videos.”  Ouch. 

We talked about her values and how she feels about issues on the ballot like incarceration, gay marriage and renewable energy.  She knew a lot and was passionate in her views.

Then we walked through the California ballot propositions, looking at who’s in favor and opposed, who’s funding them and what they cost.  In less than 2 hours, she had reviewed every measure and sealed her ballot.

Hannah thanked me, gushing that grown ups rarely take time to explain or coach, but are experts at giving instructions.  It made me think about our role in passing the torch to the next generation - not as know-betters but as mentors, teachers and leaders. 

As we said goodbye, Hannah asked what I do for work.  I gave her my business card explaining it’s my job to help train and support those deceitful PR flacks who spin campaign flyers and youtube videos.