Screenshot: Opening lines of the poem, "Sometimes the Wolf Cries Girl": Sometimes the hero stumbles/ and falls right off the page./Sometimes the princess…
Opening lines of the poem, “Sometimes the Wolf Cries Girl”

Recently, I posted this poem on Facebook:

A cynical friend responded, “Sometimes…none of this is true.” And I replied,

But all of it is, sometimes. Sometimes is the anchor word here, that allows us to play with our perceptions. All of it is true once in a while, but all of it is not true often enough that the inability to go there feels normative to you. As someone who has spent some big chunks of my life on the margins for various reasons, I can assure you that the narrow, normative, conformist version of reality isn’t real for a big percentage of the population—but who’s in and who’s out might vary over time.

My “margins” experience is both direct and indirect. Directly, I’ve been treated as marginal—”othered”—for living in poverty in my younger years…for not being into sports, hypermasculinity, or TV celebrity culture…for being Jewish…for being bisexual…for being a Northerner in Georgia and an Easterner in Southwest Ohio…And I’ve confronted ageism against both the young and the old—which started when I was very young and has continued now that people are beginning to think of me as old.

But I’ve also worked with a lot of groups that were marginalized in ways outside of my own direct experience of it. In college in the 1970s—long before same-sex couples were socially acceptable—I ran the campus Gay Center and started two more in cities where I had college co-op jobs and went to my first same-sex wedding in 1978 or ’79. I did community organizing around the environment and safe energy all the way back to 1971, when I was a 14-year-old high school junior—and that consciousness didn’t really become mainstream until THIS century.  I worked as a paid organizer for an elders’ rights organization at 22 and 23. I had my consciousness raised about a whole bunch of disability rights and minority rights issues during the six years in the 1990s when I served on my city’s official disability access committee (helping public spaces like theaters and restaurants meet accessibility codes) and simultaneously on the District Attorney’s Civil Rights Advisory Board (sensitizing lawyers, cops, and criminal justice workers to the needs of marginalized communities). I worked for 15 years in that city and 24 years in the neighboring small town where I live now on opening up the electoral process and city/town government to disenfranchised voices. And for more than three years, I’ve been deeply involved with immigration/refugee justice work, including an extended visit to the US-Mexico border where we visited a huge refugee camp daily and heard the stories of some of the most marginalized people in the world. 

This diversity of experience may seem very random—but certain common threads hold it all together into a larger whole that feels coherent and meaningful to me. A few examples:

  • All of this work is about empowering people who have felt powerless
  • All of it embraces the same construct that the poet presents: that just because something is a certain way doesn’t at all mean it’s impossible to change it (I even did a TEDx talk on this called “‘Impossible’ Is A Dare” (it’s 15 minutes long, riffs on a quote by Muhammad Ali that I misattributed at the time, and discusses how socially and environmentally conscious businesses can change the world—to watch, click the link and then click again on “event videos”)
  • All of it works on the theory that change happens faster and more fully when it becomes a movement—while acknowledging that acting alone can still make a significant difference. (I’m very proud of my one-person, three-day demonstration against the US bombing of Libya that drew middle fingers and jeers on the first day, but supportive honks and waves on the third day, as well as many individual conversations with people who thought differently, sometimes reaching common ground and always de-demonizing each other—but I’m even prouder of the broad-based movement I founded that saved an endangered local mountain.)
  • It all recognizes that change happens both internally, inside your own heart and brain, and externally, as the actions of one person or a movement ripple out into the wider world–and as these movements find common ground and begin to work together, discovering their intersectionality: their common struggle.
  • As these movements begin to combine like an amoeba merging with its neighbor, it becomes easier to achieve drastic restructuring of society as people begin to look at solutions to our biggest problems as interrelated, holistic, and systemic.

So yes, we have the power to change ourselves and the world. As the poem says in its final lines,

just because it’s what we’ve been told
doesn’t make it true.

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On a discussion list, a startup entrepreneur asked,

I have noticed that many successful startups are advertising that they donate x% of their profit to someone in need or they help someone have a better life,etc. What do you think is the importance of such messages to gain initial traction and how does it help grow the company?

By the time I saw the post, several other people had jumped in to tell him that social entrepreneurship isn’t just a marketing trick. It must be genuine.

Globe showing various crises around the world
How some people view the world—Opportunity for businesses that genuinely care

I agree, but there’s more. Here’s what I wrote:

Yes, social giving has to be genuine–motivated not by marketing but by sincerely helping the world–but if you’re doing that, you gain huge marketing advantage if you handle it right.

Keep in mind: charitable give-backs are NOT the only model. I’m rather a fan of creating products, services, and business cultures that directly *and profitably* turn hunger and poverty into sufficiency, war into peace, and catastrophic climate change into planetary balance. In fact, in my latest book, Guerrilla Marketing to Heal the World–which is focused on this aspect–charity givebacks account for part of one chapter out of 22 chapters. In my speaking and consulting, I help companies actually develop these kinds of approaches. You can get a very quick early-stage introduction by spending 15 minutes with my TEDx talk, “Impossible is a Dare” https://www.ted.com/tedx/events/11809 (click on “event videos”)–but recognize that this was 2 years ago and the work has evolved a lot since then.
All other things (such as price, quality, convenience) being comparable, consumers “vote with their feet” to support ethical, green, socially conscious companies. So you, as a startup, have the chance to look at the skills, interests, and wider goals within your company…create products and services that match these skills, interests, and goals with wider goals like the Big Four I mentioned at the beginning…and market them effectively to both green and nongreen markets (which has to be done differently, as I discuss in the book). But please, do it with good intentions! (I can help, BTW.)

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Summary board prepared in real-time at Randy Pierce's talk on blindness, TEDx Springfield

Summary board prepared in real-time at Randy Pierce's talk on blindness, TEDx Springfield
Summary board prepared in real-time at Randy Pierce’s talk on blindness, TEDx Springfield

Randy Pierce, an athlete who recently climbed Kilimanjaro, enjoys a spectacular view or a great sunset—even though he happens to be blind. Just because he can’t see it and has to have it described doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy. His talk was my personal highlight of the fourth annual #TEDxSpringfield yesterday.

Formerly sighted, he had lessons for anyone going through a difficult transition, not just losing sight. “The transition trauma moment is incredibly difficult…If we want to just live there, we can be paralyzed and stay there forever.” Anger and depression are perfectly normal when you lose something you’d always had, but it’s our choice about whether to remain stuck there, or use the trauma to springboard growth. He shared a powerful example of this from his own experience learning to use a blind cane.

While the blind cane was the tool that let me walk around safely, it was also my scarlet letter that let me feel less than, feel their pity, their lack of understanding…

In those early stages, you might be angry, depressed, enthused, in denial. I was all of those. I broke my cane and threw it away, focused on the risk management of how people would react to me… I accidentally knocked over a toddler [too low to the ground to enter Pierce’s sensory awareness] who didn’t have the warning of my cane. I let my vanity restrict me and it caused damage. A really good eye-opener on evaluating more of the risk and what is the right way to manage it.

Once, he asked if anyone was sitting in a bus seat, and hearing no response, plopped himself in the lap of a woman too shy to answer his query. And this, too, was a teachable moment for Pierce:

I can mitigate the challenge of social interaction. I wear glasses so others are not upset by my eyes shaking back and forth. I could have said “if you’re sitting there, please say hello so I don’t sit in your lap,” instead of “is anyone sitting there?”

What he learned from these early experiences is that the risk of being rejected by others is a lesser risk than the risk of failing to connect with those who are ready.

Reach out and connect with people. Make it safe for them. Take a way the risk of rejection for THEM. But how much greater risk is isolation? Make the risk of a little rejection and understand that [not all will work out]. People look for the safety of the community they have in their pocket (phones). But think about how many lost future communities [never occur because we isolate ourselves in our phones and ignore the people around us].

Pierce choses a dynamic, almost Mandela-like optimism and a methodical approach. He achieved an athletic feats that trips up even 90 percent of sighted people: grabbing a moving trapeze and using it to ring a bell.

I have plenty of points of darkness in my life. But how long do I have to wait until I put my focus to the dawn that’s coming, the vision? If you get that vision, there’s a great dawn ahead of you in many ways…Vision is always going to be waaay more important than sight.

See tomorrow’s post for other highlights of #TEDxSpringfieldFacebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinmail