On July 5, 2017, I drank my last drink. It was a crisp glass of Sauvignon Blanc, so similar to the hundreds (thousands?) that came before it. It was that familiar, satisfying blend of tart and refreshing, a hint of sweetness with strong notes of grapefruit. I drank it fitfully, slowly, knowing I was saying goodbye.
What are you doing on Friday, January 20 from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. EST?
There won’t be much on TV. Nothing of any substance, anyway. I wouldn’t suggest listening to the radio nor looking at social media for those two hours. Not if you want to keep your breakfast down.
So, what to do? What’s a good distraction?
You could talk a walk. You could read a book (endorsed by our outgoing President). You could listen to the musical “Hamilton” — always a fine way to escape whatever has you down. You could pluck your eyebrows (I’m overdue myself)…
It was a Monday in mid-August, a normal work day — meetings and mini-crises averted. I thought little about the pounding rain outside as I sat through another conference call.
At 6 p.m, just before my commute home, my husband called me to tell me the highway was shut down.
It was completely underwater.
I’ve lived in Michigan nearly my entire life, and in metro Detroit for more than a decade. I can’t recall another time the highway shut down due to flooding.
I started plotting alternative routes, and headed out on the back roads of Detroit, the parks and…
Let me start with a confession.
I haven’t spent much time thinking about leadership. I’m in my mid-30s, and work for a private foundation doing communications. But for nine years before this, I worked in journalism, where the term leadership is almost a dirty word. Leadership implies you’re the man. And journalism is all, damn the man! (Save the Empire!)
During my newspaper days, I had lots of passionate conversations about the craft and the industry with my ink-stained colleagues. But I can’t remember one conversation about leadership. (Except a few about ways we perceived various leaders of being insipid…