On Resolutions – and Resolve

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Well, it’s that time of year again. You know, when we all jot down our New Year’s resolutions for the dawning year.  And abandon so many of them within days, or weeks.

It’s not that we don’t want to stick to them, mind you. I think our hearts are in the right place. But resolutions are hard to keep. I know. I’ve broken so many over the years. Life, time, distractions, fears, sadness and yes, disinterest all get in the way. That’s where I feel I’m at this year, after many ups and downs in 2012.

I have a list of resolutions for 2013, some of which I mentioned on my Facebook account a few days ago.

“I need to intensify my job search. I’ve been fortunate to have a bit of part time work, but I need more certainty and stability in my life so I can plan for trips and the like.

I need to improve my photography skills – and that means I need to shoot more. I’ve been a bit slack. And I know I’ve still got a talent there.

I want to resurrect my sewing machine and get proper lessons on how to sew. I actually have some designs in mind for myself and I would love to extend my inner vision to real clothes.

And I need to see more people one-on-one. I want to actually get to know more about the many people I talk to online all the time. And I think it’s time more people knew me a bit better too.”

There are other things – like watching less TV, writing more, getting more exercise – lots of the usual.

I believe in each and every one of these resolutions. I know they’d all do me the world of good, emotionally, physically and mentally. What I need now is what I think is the flip side, the unbuttered side of the bread, the yin to the resolution yang.

I need resolve.

I need the strength and determination to stick to my guns. To not be distracted, or dissuaded, or intimidated into thinking I can’t do what I said I want to do. I need the determination to make real, honest-to-God changes in my life. I need to stop being lazy, apathetic, fearful, anxious and rudderless. I need to get mad at myself more, and give myself the ass-kicking I deserve.

So, when it comes right down to it, resolutions are all very well and good. But first, I need to work on me. Or all the resolutions in the world mean squat.

Right? Right.

How much work do you need to do before resolutions mean something?

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It’s Time to Give Back

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For the past several months I’ve been writing and consulting for an organization I admire greatly. Canadian Women in Technology, also known as CanWIT, is Canada’s premier national grassroots organization dedicated to promoting tech careers for women.

And it’s an organization facing a huge challenge – one that may surprise you a much as it did me.

  • Canadian women make up only 25% of the technology workforce, with only a small number hold management positions.
  • A staggering 52% of these highly trained and qualified women will leave their jobs after only 10 years. This doesn’t bode well for young women considering careers in technology.
  • 38% of women hold leadership roles in Canada, yet only 16% hold leadership roles in the corporate sector (compared with 59% in the education sector and 37% in government agencies);
  • 37% of Boards of Directors and 17% of Senior Management Teams have no female representation in the corporate sector.

CanWIT has risen to the challenge, and with the support of Status of Women Canada has developed an online eMentorship program to bring seasoned professionals together with young women to nurture, encourage and inspire. CanWIT believes that mentorship matters, and can help turn these stats around, by encouraging the participation and advancement of females in tech.

As a woman who’s been a tech PR professional for more than 30 (!) years, I can really appreciate the value of mentorship, I like the online aspect, and I’ve been honoured to help contribute to its ongoing success.

But, you know…I haven’t done enough. I haven’t mentored anyone.

I can fall back on excuses – no time, too caught up in my life, too many commitments, etc. – but I know better.

I’ve been afraid to commit. I’ve held back, questioned myself, hesitated. For too long.

Why? Early on in my career I’m afraid I wasn’t always a good role model. I was too judgmental, too quick to criticize, too impatient. I’m not sure I always listened the way I should. And it’s not as if I didn’t love my job, and working with younger people. I didn’t have the confidence. I didn’t have the skills. To be honest, I could have used more mentorship myself.

I don’t think I’m alone. I think many of us are too hard on ourselves. We forget that we’re human, we make mistakes, lots of mistakes. But life happens to stretch and shape us. it may be a painful process, but we do grow.

And now, at this stage of my life, at the time of the year when thoughts turn to giving, I am ready to give back. Do I feel I have something to offer now? You bet!

I’ve got a lifetime of experience that stretches back to the days of typewriters and liquid paper and includes the launch of voicemail, email and cell phones. It’s a life that has seen enormous advances in the technologies younger generations can’t imagine being without. It’s a life that has embraced all kinds of change and is still absorbing, adopting and learning. And hopefully, it’s a life that offers some inspiration as a seasoned PR gal who just happens to be legally blind.

So I’m going to become an eMentor – and I’d love to take you with me. I know without even having to think about it that I know hundreds of men and women who have talent to burn, time to spare and a passion for the technology they’ve loved over many years.

Please take a few minutes to learn more about CanWIT’s eMentorship program and sign up. Be the role model these women want and need to grow and advance in their careers. I can’t think of a better gift.

Share. Guide. Inspire. And have a hell of a good time doing it. I know I will!

 

Nothing but Good – On Random Acts of Kindness

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For most of this month, my very good friend Marc Smith has been engaging himself and a number of like-minded organizations and individuals in what he calls his #30DaysofKindness – the latest round of his 30DayAdventures. So far, Marc and friends have brought cookies and cheer to seniors, given away warm toques and socks to needy people on Vancouver’s Downtown East Side, handed out flowers to brighten up many commuters’ days, encouraged literacy among youth through book drives and writing tools, and so much more. This inspiring exercise in kindness is happening till mid-December, so feel free to visit Marc’s site, follow him on Twitter or friend him on Facebook if you want to learn more.

I’ve  known Marc for several years now, and I know about his kind heart and giving nature first-hand. In December 2010, Marc was part of an amazing team of people who helped to organize a fund-raiser for my late husband Dave and me when he was desperately ill in the hospital. It was an event that touched me and my entire family and will always be one of my most treasured memories.

That experience, and Marc’s wonderful work came back to me this past Thanksgiving, when a horrible day was turned around by several acts of kindness from not only friends, but total strangers.

When I left you at the end of the last post, I was stranded in a wheelchair at LAX, having just been informed by the very nice airport police that my stolen  purse and all its contents had not been found. I was at the mercy of a negligent wheelchair attendant who wanted nothing else but to go home on a Thanksgiving afternoon. I was devastated, scared and shaken. It was a Very Bad Day.

But suddenly, happily, things began to turn around.

A very kind attendant did relieve my surly guy, who apparently did go home. She then got her supervisor involved. Her name was Diane, she was an angel, and she ROCKED. She first apologized for her employee’s attitude and neglect. She had me meet with her boss, a lovely man, who also apologized profusely and sincerely. She let me use her cell phone so I could do the best and most expedient thing I could think of. I tweeted my predicament.

But the random act that I’ll most remember from Diane was the fact that she reached into her purse, and handed me $10. I KNEW she didn’t have that much money. I knew it was a big sacrifice on her part.  I cried as I took the money and thanked her. And I hugged her tightly when she dropped me off at my departure gate and told her I’d never forget her.

In the meantime, and through that flight to SFO, my tweet had gotten the attention of friends and acquaintances, who offered help and moral support. My dear friends Lorraine and IdaRose sprang into action. Lorraine managed to cancel bank and credit cards, while IdaRose and her husband Neil arranged a cab (actually a white limo!) to pick me up at the airport to take me to their annual Thanksgiving feast. I was wined and dined and hugged many times that evening by a crowd of very supportive people, got to hang out with the family pe, and even had a night at a nearby hotel paid for so I could rest and recover from the day. I was so very lucky.

And after the initial shock and mourning for my possessions in that bag, I again remembered Marc, and what he and others were doing for their community. For people.

THAT is what I was thankful for on Thanksgiving – the reminder that things are just things, life has its scary moments and hard times, but it’s people, in person and online, those in hugging distance, and those who offer them from afar, that make life worthwhile. Thanks Marc.

Thanks Diane, for making me feel I mattered when all I felt was lost. Thanks, Lorraine, IdaRose, and Neil, for being there when I needed you the most. Thanks, Dick and Barbara, for always giving me a place to call home. Thanks everyone, from the bottom of my heart.  I won’t forget your love and support.

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First, the Bad News…

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Bear with me, people. I need to tell you about some unfortunate stuff before I get to everything that was bright and good about a bad Thanksgiving Day. But I think you’ll find it as worthwhile as I did.

It was One of Those Days…

My early flight out of Vancouver’s YVR Airport was delayed about an hour. That meant, of course, that my connecting flight from LAX was going to be tight. Very tight. And that’s when things started to spiral out of control.

We landed with less than 30 minutes before my flight was to take off. As usual, I was escorted off the plane by an attendant, who wheeled me to the exit, where I needed to take a handicapped van to yet another terminal. My chances of making that connecting flight were dwindling – especially when the handicapped van pulled away just as we got to the curb.

Once I got to the next terminal, the van driver walked me in to find an attendant. A young man was summoned to try to get me to my gate. He shuffled up, got me into my chair and proceed  to the gate, slowly. Very slowly. Then we came to another security checkpoint. And my hell truly bagan.

This wheelchair attendent in LAX didn’t know how to escort a blind person through security, was rude, and worse, actually used me and the wheelchair to push a cart of plastic bins out of his way. I was appalled.  Then, he chose not to stay by me when I was retrieving my belongings – instead, he yelled at me to hurry up and get back into the wheelchair because he “wanted to go home”. I guess he had a turkey dinner waiting for him. Subsequently, in my haste and confusion, my purse was stolen right off the line. My iPhone, iPod Touch, Surefire flashlight, wallet, cards, keys, sunglasses and my specially made reading glasses, all gone in a matter of seconds. Thankfully, they did NOT get my passport.

But I didn’t realize that till about 10 minutes later, after we made it to the departure gate, found I had indeed missed the connecting flight, and was given a new boarding pass for the next available flight three hours later. We returned back to the security area, where the TSA folks did have an image of the purse being stolen, but despite the best efforts of the LAX police, neither the thief nor the purse was found. I was devastated, crying, and helpless. Meanwhile, the attendant slumped down on a bench near my chair and proceeded to flag down other attendants passing by and ask them to relieve him because he wanted to go home

OK, so much for the bad. I have a far happier story to tell in Part Two:-)

 

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Marking Another Birthday

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My husband Dave Kane would have been 68 today. Hard to believe. Two years ago, when he was in St. Paul’s Hospital for heart and kidney failure, I bought him a balloon and attached it to his IV pole. He was embarrassed, but he walked around with that sucker all day:-)

Thought I’d post a pic of him when he looked good. Many people I know never saw him that way…

Happy Birthday dear. You are missed.
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