From the desk of Teresa Jordan, Executive Director – I had an amazing conversation spontaneously erupt at a recent partner meeting; suddenly very eloquent analogies were being honed in real time about silos.

Kim, from YWCA, began by expressing that silos often have a negative connotation in our fields of work, as a paradigm that lacks collaboration and problem-solving together.  We constantly hear that these silos must be broken down for good things to happen, but that is in fact not how silos work; magic happens in the spaces of collaboration between silos. 

On the farm a silo needs to stay packed and airtight, keeping its nutrient rich feed contained so that chemistry can take over and age the feed to its peak value.  The silo concept, when we throw it around in the workplace jargon, is one of concentrated expertise; just like the carefully filled mixes on farms all over this country, it means that an area is working in isolation – and that is seen as negative. 

Everyone has an expertise and a role, an area in which they know exactly what is going on and how it fits into the larger scheme of things. Each department, each team, each role has a delicate balance of forming that is best done within the system of itself. 

This idea of breaking down silos does not work. A well-formed team, or department needs to be built up, supported to keep its good work going, encouraged to find its expertise and stride.  Only when the siloed team is robust can it then be relied on to contribute to a greater project or the greater whole in the agency or area. The magic is not in the leveling of the silo itself, rather in the coming together of the expertise and focus of each silo to a focal point where the areas of expertise and experience overlap and are equally needed to address the project or concern in front of them. The synergy is not in blasting apart well-made structures and chemistry and expertise, but in leaning on the solid walls of that level of knowledge in order to find a way forward.  

Silos are great prominent structures that dot our landscape, but eventually season after season the well structured silage inside nourishes the herd and the next crop is planned, grown and harvested. No silo just sits full of super great knowledge that goes nowhere. The silo is a magic place where good things are stored, equally in our workplace a resilient and strong team is an enchanting place for innovation and ideas. And when teams need to come together, there is good food for thought all around.

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From the desk of Teresa Jordan, Executive Director – Right now in grocery stores there are racks of magazines with articles about Betty White turning 100.  These interviews and photos took place months ago and are now published in glossy full colour, only she did not make it. 

There is a lot to think about here. The articles were made in advance with the great hope and belief that Betty White would live to see 100. The stories were a celebration of her long life, well lived. And now these articles, though still interesting and inspiring, are also emotionally charged because Betty died in her sleep a few short days before the hallmark birthday. 

What strikes me here is that we cannot simply stop writing articles or making plans or believing that wonderful things are going to happen just because sometimes a colossal crap load of change and crisis could sweep in unannounced. No one could write an article that started with a disclaimer that in the situation that Betty does not make it please adjust all tense about her to past.  We need hope; we need to believe that the next birthday will come, that dancing will return, that love will be found again, that the worldwide pandemic will eventually fade to back page news. 

Yes, the last two years have proven that many dreams have died quietly in sleep, as lock-downs, restrictions and tragedy due to this illness have surrounded us. However, a lot of great stuff happened too, and joys and triumphs still occurred… so, keep on counting on it.

Photo: AP Photo/Matt Sayles

From the desk of Teresa Jordan, Executive Director – I have read of this analogy a few times over the past year, the notion that lighthouses do not move around. Very simple I know but the idea here is that sometimes we want to move, play defense, intervene, react, save, and otherwise scramble in a million different directions in order to warn those we care about that something is needed. 

A lighthouse stays in one place and shines. It is in the knowledge that this lighthouse is there, that the light is there so that ship crews have known, for hundreds of years, that there is a cliff or rock or some other hazard nearby to avoid.

Equally, if a storm was raging or the journey home was long seeing, the lighthouse indicated that land was there, and home was close. Stay put, stay strong, stay rooted in who you know you are when you are your best self, and shine.

We can’t actually solve the problems of other people or prevent them from crashing, but we can offer guidance in how we make decisions or commit to improving, in how we shine.  And in your own journey who and what have offered you this same warning and comfort?  Who was shining and steadfastly there when you had to make a decision?  What phrase or truth shone bright when you were facing a dark time? 

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From the desk of Teresa Jordan, Executive Director – It is New Year’s Eve and no matter how you are spending it I am sure that it has occurred to you that tomorrow we welcome a brand-new year. I do realize that when we wake up in the morning or the hands of the clock move past midnight tonight there won’t be any sonic boom or cosmic event that sweeps away any angst left from 2021 and creates a fresh everything for 2022. However, we can do this for ourselves. Make a little peace with the mistakes we leave in 2021, the fears, the hurts, the misgivings, the broken bits, and the anger. Celebrate what we gathered together in new relationships, strengthened bonds, learning, experience, achievement, and blessings. And then turn the page to a crisp, bright, blank one that is just waiting for a new adventure, a new year. 

What will you record? What is something, amid the deep winter of COVID and cold, at which you can get a fresh start? I am not really talking about the perennial gym membership, the twenty pounds or the complete makeover of all things healthy, although those are great. I think its all the little things that add up to more impact than a few days at the gym. Start a gratitude journal, call an old friend you have not spoken to in a long time, set an intention for the year that you can work on little by little. 

Anne of Green Gables welcomed each new day as a fresh start with no mistakes in it and then went on to make mistakes. I urge you to think about 2022 as a fresh new year with no mistakes in it.  Let’s go make some memories, some improvements and some mistakes.  Welcome 2022.

From the desk of Teresa Jordan, Executive Director – When I was a kid, I went to my grandparents on Christmas day like so many folks do. Their farmhouse was overflowing with people and steaming supper and laughter. 

My grandparents lived on the top of the hill overlooking the massive urban center of Janetville. One of the things that I remember most about being there was going outside onto the cold porch by myself and looking across the lights of the neighbourhood. 

Finally, a little quiet and cool and alone time. Time to just breathe and loosen my pants a little if I am honest. I would only go out on the porch for a few moments, but it was a enough time to pause pause, a few moments to say to myself in the chaos, this is Christmas, this is family, this is a memory in the making right now, today.

Just like a lot of things I can’t stand out on that porch anymore; my grandparents have passed on, their farmhouse not only was sold but has since burned down, and I don’t see my cousins at Christmas anymore because families grow.

I still try to grab a porch moment whenever I can in the busy gatherings of my Christmas… a moment of cool stillness to just say, phew made it, Christmas is here, there is joy, there are lights, there is food. There is nothing else I can forget or write on a to-do list, the days are here now, and this is Christmas, this is awesome. 

I think the challenge of Christmas is that we want the magic of a Hallmark movie and most often end up in some version of the Griswold’s but it is all good, all Christmas, all a memory.  However, you celebrate the holidays, enjoy, grab a moment of peace and a moment to just breathe in the magic of the season. We shall not pass this day again.

From the desk of Teresa Jordan, Executive Director – I am fascinated with the new recreation of genealogy and DNA. I found out for myself that I am 33% Scottish, which is stupendous because I always pictured myself a Tartan clad heroine of a Diana Gabaldon novel. Descended from Presbyterian Irish people, my DNA tells the story of origins beyond the immigration to Ireland.

A friend I had years ago celebrated his Scottish heritage, went to grad school in Scotland, wore kilts, embraced relations there. However, a quick look into his family tree would make me hazard a guess that he has less Scottish DNA than the Dutch Irish mash up that is my family tree.

So, what does DNA really mean as far as who we are? 

I think that while DNA offers the raw material that was knitted together to make some of my physical attributes, can I really say that I am of Scottish heritage? Isn’t family more about our kin relationships – who we love, who we are closely connected to, parts of our heritage that we know best, that we love?

DNA is delightful though somewhat questionable hobby for people interested in genealogy, but it is our whole lives that define who we are.  After all its not coded in my DNA that I love Elvis or seem to know the words to about 800 Christmas songs; these are the attributes I gathered living this life with the people who I call family with shared DNA or not. 

So that is the answer – my former friend might only be about 12.7% or so Scottish, but that is who he is – his kin relationship, his heritage – because that is where his bagpipe-loving heart belongs.  Find your heart and hearth and embrace who you are, who you call kin and where you belong.

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From the desk of Teresa Jordan – I think most people understand that my husband is retired and, since he has the time, is the chief cook in our household. It has come to my attention over the years that one small issue [that I will never complain to him about] is that he does not prepare food that he does not like for me even if I like it a lot. I am not even sure if this a conscious decision; I just know that over time I have learned to not purchase certain food items.

One to the prominent examples of this is spiced Gouda cheese with caraway seeds. In my childhood, this was called cheese, as it was the only kind of cheese that we had regularly for our sandwiches. My husband thinks our family ‘cheese’ is revolting and, as the person who makes almost all of my lunches and snacks, that block of Gouda would mould to something unrecognizable, so I no longer buy it.

How often do we unconsciously do this this type of thing to others? We know what we like and what we are comfortable with, so we are somewhat set to autopilot regarding the golden rule and how we treat others. However, if I am someone who needs to talk through my problems and you are someone who needs quiet contemplation when the going gets rough, we might have to make a cheese sandwich we do not particularly want to eat in order to problem-solve together.

We sometimes must think about the other person – what they need, how they communicate and with what approach they are comfortable. It is hard to step out of our comfort zone, try to meet the person where they are at and face those caraway seeds. And while this is a lot of work, especially in a crisis, it is critical to making most of the relationship – to get to where we need to be in the project, endeavour, or solution. It’s hard work because a lot of people process communicate in a vastly different way that you do, but its worth figuring out how best to make the sandwich.

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From the desk of Teresa Jordan, Executive Director – Sunday was a snowy day. I was so lucky as no one in my household had to go anywhere, so we all stayed home in the storm.

We live beside an intersection on the highway, and at about 5 pm on Sunday there was a major accident involving four cars at the corner. As a result, the traffic was rerouted to the back road behind our property.

This is a problem – I never take that road from November to March because it is never plowed well and has a humongous hill. As expected, by the time the accident was cleared there were seven cars in the ditch and both the fire truck and snow plow were stuck on the side road.

All of these traffic woes happened around me while I was watching Hallmark movies under a blanket – making me think about that timeless truth that there are battles going on all around us that we often know nothing about.

We are all doing what we need to, but often we can get rerouted – by illness, accident, family crisis or job changes. We suddenly must veer from our familiar path, and the detour can be treacherous. I guess while we focus on our own lanes, there needs to be at least an acknowledgement that others can easily be trapped on the snowy hills, quietly going through great challenge. We can’t know what is going on at all times, we can only be kind, aware and ready to share our blankets as needed.

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From the desk of Teresa Jordan, Executive Director – I left work with a little snow falling, and whizzed along my well-known path to home humming along with the music I was playing.  I did notice the snow increasing; however, it was still good driving. 

After I passed through the village of Bethany I encountered heavier snow, and then found myself completely stopped in a long line of brake lights weaving through the rolling hills ahead of me.  I was still completely content, however, and after a few minutes decided to call home to let them know I would be later than planned. 

The snow increased and the road became covered in icy slush; he traffic crawled slowly toward me from the west, and I started to see other cars turning around in our line-up and heading back.  It appeared that large trucks were stuck in the hills.

After 35 minutes parked on the highway, I reluctantly made the decision to also turn around.  Doing so was frightening, as the road was slippery and I had to do a three-point turn on a hill from which I could not see oncoming traffic. 

I got turned around and, in consultation with my husband, picked a different somewhat hill-free route home.  I moved slowly along the new, slippery and slushy route, and as I approached the only hill on the route traffic was again stopped behind a transport stuck at the crest of the hill.  Having to turn around again, I felt hopelessly stranded 7 kilometers from home with no way to get there. 

I drove back to the east of the village to a third route home. Once I returned east, I was surprised by completely different weather – the snow was only light with no slush or build up.  I carefully drove the hilly back roads to home.  

What this not-so-great introduction to this season’s winter driving made me think about was that sometimes the way forward is to turn around, backtrack a little to get your bearings, and then you find new a way to make it to your destination. Stay calm, there is always a way through.

It’s the decision to stop and turn around that is the hardest, and even it does not always turn out right, steady on with the long-game goal as guide no matter the route or hills you encounter.

From the desk of Teresa Jordan, Executive Director – I love to read, and I often seek out different kinds of material so that I am not stuck in one echo chamber of interests and ideas. To that end, my son offered me a book about Elon Musk and SpaceX’s beginnings.

While my son is an engineering student who loves this stuff, I must admit I was a little lost in all the specifics of how the Falcon 1 was developed, designed, and launched. What did stand out to me was that the first three attempts to launch the Falcon were absolute disasters; the sum of thousands of hours, more than a dozen employees and millions of dollars seemed to lead to a total flop, times three .

The book’s author stressed that the SpaceX philosophy for development was not linear but iterative in its design – meaning that instead of adjusting over and over again trying to formulate the perfect plan, designers were encouraged to come up with an idea and try it.

This philosophy resulted not only in the three big failures to launch but also in literally hundreds more washouts in the warehouse, workshops and launch pad area. So rather than trying to figure out where things might not work, the engineers here got to see firsthand their flaws in the mistakes that piled up. With each fail they then went back, adjusted, used the learning. The rest of the SpaceX story is clear- they achieved their goal of orbit.

The takeaway? While not always possible, sometimes you just need to get the first pancake out there, see how that process worked, what that connection achieved, how that project turned out and then adjust the recipe, and start again – only this time with more knowledge and one step closer to perfection.

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