MY URBAN KVETCH

"Yes-Anding" Our Way to Organizational Progress

 

Me (and my purple scarf) leading a group in improv exercises at the ROI Summit

Back in New York, people had been encouraging me to do comedy for years. But as far as I knew "doing comedy" meant either a) moving out to LA, pitching agents and studios on ideas, only to have your heart trampled on, or b) doing standup at an open-mic or "bringer" night at a comedy club after midnight, only to have your heart trampled on. And then someone suggested I try improv classes - where there are no scripts, and - kind of like "the Tree" in Empire Strikes Back - the tools you bring in with you (thought, intelligence, sense of humor, and the rules of improv - more on that below) are the only ones you have (or need). 

While I wouldn't quite say that I "do comedy" (although I did move out to LA, so maybe part of me thrives on the possibility of heart-trampling), improv has changed (or in some cases validated) the way I think about things. I'm often able to detect improv training in performers on and offstage, and even watching TV, I see some sitcoms reflect improvisation training more than others. There was a lot about improv that I enjoyed - the energy of the spontaneous, the ability to find things that were funny because they were true. But chiefly, I enjoyed the teamwork, finding "the game" of the scene and playing it through, helping others on stage who were struggling by giving them something they could work with, and using my quirky (yet-I-hope-delightful) brainworks to play things truthfully while building something together. Standup is solitary and lonely; improv is group energy, a family.

A Blog, a BKR, a Parent, a Brother: Kindred Connections

Online connections are a daily thing to me, but as much as possible, I try to seek out opportunities for online connections to cross over into real life. While meeting someone who's basically a stranger sometimes leads to awkwardness, I'm always amazed by how much deeper a connection can get when you add an in-person dimension - as if something in the in-room chemistry reinforces human solitude and interdependence simultaneously, and makes us want to connect more meaningfully, even if we have to reveal personal things we are most guarded about.

In October, I got what I thought was a spam message about blog advertising. The subject header read "kvetch bkr: true love." Reading on, I saw that the email was from Tal Soltz, founder of a San Francisco-based water bottle company called bkr. "Found you randomly, love your tagline. Think you'll love the Kvetch bkr. Hilarious and kindred. www.mybkr.com."

Looking at the website, I saw that bkr (pronounced "beaker") sold 16-oz glass water bottles, with a small mouth, encased in a silicone sleeve. They had bottles in 34 colors that I could see on the website (I'm assured that other colors, to match seasonal fashion trends, are coming), in color names ranging from whimsical (a grapefruity pink called "crush") to dangerous (a deep maroon called "bitten"), and one in chartreuse called "kvetch." I now understood - a Google search for "kvetch" must have brought us together. (And no, they don't yet have a "Kvell" color. I'm sure that's in the 2014 Collection.)

Tal offered to send me a kvetch bkr, and since I already had a trip to San Francisco planned, I offered to pick it up in person. As we talked about the founding of the company and how business was going (very well - the bkrs are popular among the celebrity and fashion-conscious set), we talked about my blogs, including the one I used to write, JDatersAnonymous, but which I (mostly) gave up around the time my mother passed away. She revealed that her father had also passed away, about a year before - within a week or two, she'd be traveling to Israel for the unveiling. She also told me about the house her father had built, about 85 miles east of Los Angeles. Because Tal lives in San Francisco and her brother Gil lives in Paris, they had thought about selling the house when their father died - but Gil had a better idea: to transform this secluded place in the mountains into a writers' retreat in their father's memory. 

Just a few days after my visit to Tal, Gil launched a Kickstarter for Inspiration Drive, to raise funds to transform that house - called "Yefe Nof," Hebrew for "beautiful vistas/scenery" - into a creative residency, where "writers, researchers, and designers bring their projects for the final stage of execution, one resident at a time for six weeks each."

As someone who is writing a book about grief, loss and memory, I could relate both to the emotional and the practical side of this project. I knew I couldn't donate at the level that would earn me a week at this cabin (which I would LOVE), but suggested that in addition to funding from individuals via Kickstarter, he might want to seek out cultural foundations, institutions and nonprofit organizations (especially those based in LA or San Diego) for partnerships and retreats. (See video by Gil below: warning, he is very charming and you may just fall in love with him and this project a little.)

So from a blog and a bkr to creative projects in memory of a lost loved one, an online connection moved from virtual to real-life, illuminating that even virtual strangers may have stories that overlap and intersect, at points of tragedy or creativity, or emerging from the human condition itself. Our desire to connect can bring us out of our solitude, or grief, or isolation, or routine, into contact with those who may be quite similar to ourselves, even if we don't know it yet. And sometimes, it starts with a simple email.

To see the full line of bkrs (which are surprisingly light for glass and which sport an angled top that makes the bottle easy to carry), check out MyBKR.com.

To learn more about Inspiration Drive, visit the Kickstarter (the project is 21% funded, with 24 days to go).

Touchstone: Connection's Open Palm

In May 2012, to mark the first anniversary (yahrzeit) of my mother’s passing, and the conclusion of the Jewish-tradition-mandated year of mourning, my friend Becca gave me a small piece of jewelry – it was a blue hamsa, an open and outstretched hand common in middle eastern cultures, and it seemed to sparkle, even though it contained no gems.

As time passed, I wore the hamsa more and more, and without fail, every time I wore it, someone made a comment – asking me about the stone, or where I got it, or what it meant. I learned that it was an opal (mine was blue, like the one in the photo), I discovered more about the person from whom my friend had bought this gift (her name was Rachelle Tratt and she was a Venice-based yoga instructor). I learned that the jewelry business was called The Neshama Project (in memory of Rachelle’s mother, Nicole), and that it also generated donations for charitable causes (Innovation Africa, Friends of Ofanim and Zeno Mountain Farm).

But the fact that people kept commenting on this little piece of jewelry, literally every time I wore it, had to mean something about the piece itself, and also about human connection in general. Also, I didn’t think it was an accident that every time someone commented, my hand flew to my neckline, hand touching stone and chain, and actively, physically remembering the piece, its fire, its point and person of origin, and that it had become literal touchstone, a physical anchor in my process of assimilating loss into – instead of permitting it to overpower - daily life.

“The hamsa represents a universal connection, that even though we may come from different paths, backgrounds and faiths, we are all inter-connected.  We are all One,” Rachelle affirmed in an email interview conducted last week in advance of Hanukkah. (Necklaces from The Neshama Project make excellent Hanukkah presents, by the way - and you can get 10% off by using the code "holidaysoul.")

Rachelle’s bigger visions for The Neshama Project include spreading the messages of people and organizations “who are making this world a healthier, brighter, and more soulful place,” and she envisions leading spiritual /yoga minded retreats to Israel for those of all faiths, in order to bridge the gap and help educate those about life in the Middle East. 

“I used to dream of a way to help others shine and heal,” she reflected. “I used to dream of a way to allow my personal story to inspire others. I used to dream of a way to have my mother's spirit live on through me.  But never in my wildest dreams, did I imagine that The Neshama Project would connect me with people in such meaningful ways.”

Approaching “Innovation”, Part Two: A Simchat Torah Meditation

 

Screenshots from PocketTorah, a mobile Torah app

Those of us who follow traditional Jewish liturgy may be familiar with the term “hadesh yameinu k’kedem” – "renew our days as they were before." This phrase pops up in various places, but most notably to synagogue-goers, at the end of the Etz Hayyim (Tree of Life) prayer as the Torah is placed back in the Ark, and on Tish’ah B’av, a fast day commemorating (among other tragic days in Jewish history) the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem. While purists might read this as a yearning literally for the restoration of Temple times, since such times seem to come replete with High Priests, sacrifices and a segregated area for women that restricts access to the holy areas of the Temple Mount, I think of it differently.

 

For me, the yearning to “renew our days as they were before” is something that’s quintessentially human and remarkably resonant to the conversation on innovation. (If we insist on calling it that.) While the phrase does appear in a context of a near-obliterated Jerusalem, we only read it in that context once a year; the rest of the time we use it as we seal the Torah back into the Ark after we’ve read that day’s Torah portion. In this context, it is a reminder that although we have read these words before, we re-read them, knowing that, because we change with every reading, our understanding of the words themselves may have also altered, in a way that provides new relevance to and wisdom for our contemporary lives.

When we pray for the renewal of our days “as before,” what we’re praying for is the renewal of our energy, because it takes energy, creativity, and an open mind to re-read something we’re familiar with and see it differently. It takes a receptive heart to be invigorated by an ancient text’s relevance, to look at it differently, and become impassioned about incorporating its lessons into our daily lives. 

Torah itself may not be innovation (whatever that means) - literally, as something so ancient, it's probably closer to being the opposite. But what the plea to "renew our days as days of old" presents is the equating of that wizened age with inspired thinking, expressing perhaps a yearning for the enthusiasm we once had before our lives got in the way, the kind of inquisitive interest and fresh perspectives that we had when we were children, or students, or before we were encumbered by life’s responsibilities.

By opening our minds and hearts to innovative readings - of a contemporary situation, a passion project, an ancient text or an encounter with a creative thinker - we have the ability to further amplify the impact of our tradition and generate the necessary energy to recommit to pushing through challenges. By embracing perspectives outside our own, we renew our openness to perceiving and absorbing new meaning every day.

Wishing you a joyous Simchat Torah...

Approaching “Innovation”: Verbicidal Tendencies

 

Infographic on Innovation Burnout from Wall Street Journal (via creativityland.ca)

If you know me, you know that I am not a violent person. But then, the other day, a murderous thought came to mind. Not quite voices in my head, more like a clarion call, a seasonally appropriate shofar from within the realm of my professional work.  “Kill. Kill the word. Innovation. It needs to die.”

Troubling, to me personally, a heavy user of words, to advocate for the death of a word; not to mention the fact that I work part-time adjacent to the Partnerships & Innovation department at the Jewish Federation of Greater Los Angeles, and as a consultant for the ROI Community of Jewish Innovators. Most of my professional work involves being in and around what I once explained to someone was “the emerging Jewish innovation sector.” (The person’s response: “Huh?”) My attempt to name projects in this sphere as explanation – G-dcast, Birthright Israel, PresenTense, ROI, Jewcology, Hazon, Sharsheret – didn’t seem to help. I must have sounded like Hagrid, describing mystical creatures at Hogwarts.

A few years back at LimmudLA, I presented on the state of Jewish innovation, citing
G-dcast, the Mission Minyan, Kehilat Hadar, Moishe House and Challah for Hunger as examples. A voice of dissent in the room claimed that these projects were not innovations. G-dcast is “just” the weekly Torah portion; independent prayer communities are “just” the reinvention of havurot; Moishe House is “just” group living, like a kibbutz and a fraternity combined; Challah for Hunger is “just” a bake sale. My argument back was that the sum of the product itself might not be innovative, but the lens, venue or methodology used to produce it is creative, in some way “alternative” to the mainstream culture of Jewish life, or directly reflective of contemporary needs and concerns, and that it was that kind of work that was emerging under the term “innovation.”

Getting Engaged: Part Two - Courting Engagement

(It's always gratifying when a blog post here starts a conversation somewhere else. To check out how the subject of engagement might look through an education lens, check out Dan Mendelsohn Aviv's post at his blog, The Next Jew. And now, part two.)

While Jewish engagement professionals struggle with questions and answers that may not satisfy funders or program providers, it may help - because it at least helps me - to focus on building and deepening personal relationships, which should be the foundation of any expected engagement.

1. Attendance is not engagement. Having 200 people at your event doesn't mean you've engaged 200 people any more than going on speed dates with 200 people means you're in a relationship. (In some cases, speed dating might get you closer.) Like Facebook relationship statuses, connection to community often gets an "It's Complicated." A packed house creates great energy, but can dilute content, and may overwhelm in a way that prevents relationships from forming, either among individual particpants or with the convening organization(s). So if you're a Jewish professional who's staffing this incredibly successful party, get out there and talk to people you don't know. Find out what they're passionate about, introduce them to other people, especially if you discover a point of connection. Then empower them to work with you in achieving something neither of you could do separately. Create the connection, forge a relationship, then leverage it to greatness.

2. "Engagement" or "young leadership" may not be everyone’s goal. While some young adults state an ambition toward leadership or a desire to become deeply involved, most people may be satisfied with more of a browsing relationship with Jewish initiatives and institutions - read a book, see a movie, attend a party as wingman for your friend. The default mode is: don't get tied down, try lots of things. It's casual dating. Some may already identify as connected, even if you can't count them among your donors or co-chairs. If you call them "unaffiliated," you may just learn what "disaffiliated" means. Some NextGen folk may be searching and some may be happily single (communally, or within this overarching relationship metaphor). So listen to the people who come through your doors, and make sure there is room in your Jewish organization for everyone, regardless of their marital and/or procreative status.

3. Age is relative. The 20s and 30s seem to be today’s magic target population, but they’re not the only ones in the Jewish community who may be seeking engagement with community. There are people of other “Gens” around who deserve props for their past and contributions to Jewish communal life. What of the teens who see bar and bat mitzvah as a natural opt-out point but who are the true "NextGen"? What of the poor generationless 40somethings, increasingly closed out of both "young professionals" and "Jewish innovation" programs? How can today’s leadership make room for young(er) professionals without phasing themselves out? The demographics of our collective and particular communities challenge us to think about engagement (and innovation) as a goal that’s independent of age. The question isn’t necessarily “how can we expect 20s and 30s to feel that engagement is important?” but may in fact be “how can we create the space for programs that meet the needs of community members and which make Jewish life meaningful?” So focus on the relationship between the two parties and focus on creating authentic and meaningful experiences. Don’t get hung up on age – it ain’t nothin’ but a number. (For more on the age thing in regard to innovation and leadership, see this piece at eJewishPhilanthropy.)

Getting Engaged: Part One

The magic of engagement is not to be believed until it's experienced - feeling, in a moment of certainty, that this is where you belong, committing, for the foreseeable future to walk a path together, to enter into covenant, partnership, something binding that you vow to work at, to invest in, to cherish and develop actively every day. Gazing at your beloved, you just know. Engagement is the first step into a future that, although unknown, contains the tantalizing promise of more time together with the companions you've chosen, creating connections to people who inspire and energize you, who amplify your creativity, your intelligence and your impact, who partner with you to create a community that serves you as much as you serve the community.

Many of us in the Jewish world - single and married, younger and older - are tasked with creating “Jewish engagement” opportunities every day. Some of us even have the actual word in our professional titles; for others, it's implied. But the one thing everyone agrees on is that no one knows what “engagement” really means.

Some of you may know that I used to write extensively about relationships. (And here’s where I apologize for the misdirect that may have made you think that this piece was going to be an update about my social life.) But the fact that the community has so deeply embraced the term "engagement," particularly those who work with the so-called "NextGen,” has made me think that there may be something deeply resonant about the choice of this word to describe Jewish connection.

Win Prizes in ROI's Online Scavenger Hunt

In addition to being a playing field for young Jewish innovators worldwide and a creative partner for and amplifier of many of today’s new Jewish ideas, the ROI Community has just launched an online scavenger hunt with daily prizes (today, for instance, 3 winners chosen at random will win Ahava products worth $25), and the grand prize is a trip to a Limmud Conference anywhere in the world. (This includes flights AND registration, up to $4000 including taxes. This is a major prize, people...check out the LimmudInternational calendar for Limmud events around the world.)

Check out the (fairly entertaining) intro video here (one of the better uses of this xtranormal technology that swarmed the web a bit back):

There is no age limit - if you are over 18, you can join the hunt, and win prizes - but you must register in order to participate (you will not be spammed by ROI):  Here's how it works, and the fine print on the rules.

Wishing you all luck (and hoping that you all enjoy the content, which was not scripted by me, but is nonetheless entertaining)!

More Show, Less Tell: Your ROI Summit Video Rewind

I could write for days about my experiences staffing the 2012 ROI Summit - describe the kind of energy that the participants generated, analyze which components worked well and which needed improvement, and also gush rather extensively about this experience and the staff team of which I am proud to be a part. (And who couldn't write epic volumes about my role on opening day as "person who asks people to sign waivers??) But instead of telling you, I thought I'd show you.

Since the ROI staff is much more than just a group of professionals who implement programs, ROI director Justin Korda and the video staff teamed up to introduce ROI's staff to this year's participants in a memorable and creative way. (Behind-the-scenes story...We were originally tasked with writing our own lines, but then they cut most of the spoken lines. However, if you ask a writer to craft her own lines and she does, and then she's told they're to be cut, it does not go over well, And so, long story short, I still have lines. (And yes, I'm aware that's not how it works in "The Industry.")

The creativity continued as ROI used Claymation to illustrate the design evolution of the new ROI logo and branding. (NO, that's not a joke. Actual Claymation, or as it's known in Hebrew, Plastelina.) As the conference progressed, we had several rounds of Open Space, a conference ideation methodology that enables conference participants to shape discussions on subjects from their experiences and passions. In this clip, Rabbi Yoni Gordis explains the methodology, and you get a glimpse of what kinds of issues that concerned this year's group of ROI participants.

In addition to the serious issues we tackled, we like to have a little fun, too. And so we brought in 2011 ROIer, blogger and standup comedian Benji Lovitt to take a look at ROI through a topical and appropriate lens: obviously, the Olympics. In this video, I have a silent, but memorable scene with the one and only Seth Cohen. (And by "one and only," I mean that there are lots of Seth Cohens in the world, but only one who's Director of Network Initiatives at the Charles and Lynn Schusterman Family Foundation.)

At the end, this is how the video crew saw the 2012 ROI Summit. More videos, including daily slide shows of photos, are available on the ROI YouTube page. But since this is my blog, I thought I'd leave you with this clip of me talking about ROI on the IBA English News broadcast, which aired two weeks after the Summit.

Former GOOD (not "Formerly Good") Staffers Team Up, Kickstart New Magazine

I'm two and a half weeks into three weeks of conferences in Israel and have a presentation on social media to give tomorrow afternoon (6:45-9:15 am EST; 11:45-14:15 GMT; 13:45-16:15 Israel time - catch the livestream here), but I saw this story and something about it resonated with me, so I thought I'd share.

GOOD Magazine is really good. It always has been - well-written and -edited, great graphics, creative and meaningful content. You always got the idea that their hearts were in the right place. And the six former GOOD staffers who were fired and the two additional ones who took severance packages want you to know that their next endeavor - a one-off magazine they're calling TOMORROW - is not a revenge move...it's an effort to create something lowercase-good that is forward-looking, and that enables them to keep on working together.

From their Tumblr: 

[...]we’re disappointed that this editorial team won’t get to continue working together. We loved making a daily web magazine and a quarterly print magazine with and for GOOD’s community of readers and writers and designers and illustrators. We think we were pretty good at it. And we know we didn’t get a chance to realize the full potential of our collaboration. We were just getting started!

So we’d like to make at least one more magazine together. Not an issue of GOOD—something different. We’re calling it Tomorrow. It’s going to be about what’s next, what’s on the cusp. We want to get out of our comfort zone and push others to do the same. We want to meet and introduce you to great people. 

True to the crowdsourcing spirit of the contemporary age, the Tomorrowniks (that's my name for them, not theirs) are turning to the people for funding by launching a Kickstarter campaign with some unusual and cool prizes for their backers. It's working so far - they've raised over $13,000 of their proclaimed goal of $15,000, which will go to produce and print the issue, and have an L.A. launch party. (See below for video appeal and link to their fundraising page.)

Like I said, there's something about this story that I find inspiring: that even in the light of having lost their jobs, people are optimistic and literally shaping Tomorrow when they could be curled up in a collective fetal position, or that a shared bad experience creates community instead of shattering it. May we have the strength to convert despair into opportunity and channel disappointment into productivity and opportunities to keep working with people who inspire us.

Check out their video, below, and donate if you feel the urge.