Unsung Heroes and Worthy Causes

When a large corporation sponsors a charity event, I admit I’m more than a bit skeptical about their motivation. Yes, I admit that there might be some whose hearts are in the right place; but it’s also a means for their PR agencies to create press opportunities through brand recognition and try to win favor of a larger demographic by showing they care.  Large companies have the dollars to leverage corporate giving into increased market share, free publicity and a big tax write off.  In the process they do good. and their charitable contributions should not be underestimated.  But would they have garnered the attention and the turn out if they didn’t have the big bucks behind them?  Would less ROI still have made it a viable thing for them to do?

Let’s look at the other side for a moment, because when small businesses team with local non-profits, the playing field changes.  Small businesses are rooted in community because, quite simply, they’re part of it and have a vested interest in their causes, concerns, and successes. After all, aren’t people helping people what community is all about? Giving back is the heart and soul of small business, and for the most part, their efforts go unnoticed. They don’t have a PR agency out there singing their praises and soliciting media attention. In fact, more likely than not, they would be embarrassed by any attention drawn to them, and not their charity. Understandably, they’ll never be able to compete with the dollars of a big company, but they can do their best to help and if they can bring community into the giving process too, they’ve made a difference.

These small businesses who support their communities in so many ways that go unnoticed are my unsung heroes. They will always get not only my business, but my trust. From time to time I’ll be highlighting them in my blog. One of them is Joy Perkins.

An East Bay resident for over thirty years, Joy founded Omnibus Organizing to help people through everything from downsizing and major life changes, to simply finding order in chaos when they simply don’t know where to start.  But more than that, her passion goes beyond helping people gain control of the clutter in their lives.  Joy has always been finding ways to bring people and causes together.  Other people do that as well, but Joy’s philosophy is to find ways to help people who help others. That way, everyone feels rewarded.  This ‘out of the box’ approach to charitable giving, creates a double ‘win’ for all involved — no matter how you slice it.

On May 19, from 9AM-noon, Omnibus Organizing and Ma Jolie Salon and Spa will join forces to host a Paper Shredding event to benefit two, 403B charities: Leukemia and Lymphoma Society’s Team in Training athlete Alex Griffen and Shepherd’s Gate. Team in Training has trained over a half a million runners, walkers, triathletes, cyclists and hikers and through competitions has raised over $1.2 billion to fund lifesaving cancer research. We are supporting Alex, in training for his Ironman competition.Shepherd’s Gate is a shelter that has provided a safe haven for women and children, homeless because of abusive relationships, addictions and loss of financial support, for almost 30 years. They receive no government funding and rely totally on private donations. (Learn more about these charities at http://pages.teamintraining.org/sf/VineFIrn13/alexgriffen and http://shepherdsgate.org).  Co-sponsor Karen Phillips of Ma Jolie is a well known advocate of local causes, and like Joy, is firmly committed to giving back to the community.

Omnibus Organizing and Ma Jolie are subsidizing the event, to be held in Ma Jolie’s parking lot, at 2416 San Ramon Valley Blvd , San Ramon.

Seems like a no-brainer to me. Get some needed drawer space back, make two charitable contributions, have some great coffee and still have the entire day ahead of you! Look for the big white truck in the parking lot.  You’ll know you’ve come to the right place.

BTW, if you want to know more about Joy, check out her website http://www.omnibusorganizing.com. And, of course, San Ramon mainstay Ma Jolie can be found at http://www.majoliesalon.com.

 

What Makes You Different?

I was in my early twenties when I started in radio.  I was there just a couple of days when I got a call from a friend of mine who was PR Director of the Boy Scouts.  He was frantic.  There was a killing in the South Bronx.  Their star scout, a young man who with their help, had turned his life around and became a mentor to disenfranchised youth in the neighborhood, was stabbed to death in a confrontation with a couple of street toughs who were trying to mug an elderly neighbor. Could I get a location team together and cover it before the networks got hold of it?  I took down all the information, hung up. 

It was after 5PM and except for a couple of program announcers and their engineers, everyone had gone for the day. I turned to David, who was Program Director – a wonderful, seasoned old guy who had been there forever and who very much reminded me of Yoda. He listened to my story as he leaned back in his chair smoking his pipe.  ‘What do you want to do?’ he asked.  ‘Get a team up there immediately and get news coverage.’  

‘I see,’ he said.  ‘We don’t have an on call news team and there are no engineers available. Are the networks covering it?’ ‘Yes,’ I responded.  ‘Then, what makes you think we could compete with them? It would cost us minimally hundreds of dollars just to bring people in to go after a 1-2 minute news bite and it wouldn’t cost them a cent because they’re already staffed for it. Even if we could, until we got a team together it would take them at least a couple of hours to get gear up and get there.’  I was totally deflated.  ‘Forget the cost.  Someone was killed trying to help an old woman.  Doesn’t that count?’ I asked.

David looked me thoughtfully for a moment.  ‘What can you do that they can’t do given the time constraints of local news? How can you make a difference?’  I thought for a minute.  ‘Air time.  We could produce a program on crime in the South Bronx and use this as the focal point.’  ‘Very good,’ he said.  ‘Put a half hour together for us.’

So, I gathered the State Senator from the South Bronx, Bronx District Attorney, Police Chief and a couple of community leaders together for a panel discussion that aired a few days later.  It was a call to action, and we drew consensus.  I was able to use the tragedy to bring various elements of the community together and commit to working to make the neighborhood safer. It was positive, proactive, and incidentally, I was able to get good press out of it too.

As for David, he once said to me, ’There is nothing you, or anyone else, can think of that someone else hasn’t thought of first. ‘But,’ he continued, ‘there is no one who can do it the way you can.’  I’ve never forgotten that.

What we bring to the table is uniquely ours and helps define us and the products we represent.  There are millions of people and companies out there who sell the same thing or provide the same service that you do, but how you do it, and who you are, makes you special and differentiates you from the pack.  It creates a brand people either relate to and embrace, or toss aside. Which brand do you want to be?  What do you need to do to achieve it?

Keep Those Thumbtacks Handy

I know videos are the hottest thing for websites and email marketing these days, but frankly, so many people have been jumping on the bandwagon purely for self promotion and not providing any real information, that I’d rather not waste my time viewing them before I determine if it’s worth the effort. I’d much prefer reading the crib notes.

That being said, every once in awhile I’ll get a video featuring one of my ‘gurus’ and it makes everything worthwhile. I got one the other day. It was a short actuality. Branding expert Bryan Elliott spoke with one of my heroes, Chris Brogan. It focused specifically on tips small businesses can use to get their names out there, without spending any money. As someone who specializes in helping small businesses effectively leverage low cost or free avenues to gain visibility in the marketplace, I perked up and gave it a listen. 99% of what I heard seemed to be just a rehash of advice I give on virtually a daily basis:
 clean up your website
 make it easier for people to find you
 grow your email list but use it judiciously

But then he said: make sure to get your profile up on media sites like Google Local, Facebook Places, Gannett Local – and Thumbtack!

Wow, Thumbtack! It was a no brainer and I hadn’t thought of them in that context. What a wonderful idea and infinitely better than all the other sites, because not only is it free to post your profile, but you can actually contract for jobs through the site, take advantage of their optimization, marketing tools and scheduler for free, but participate in their leads program for a small flat fee or by commission. You can make money as you gain media visibility!

For those of you who haven’t heard of Thumbtack, it’s a hidden gem in the internet marketplace and a relative newcomer, having been around only three years. I learned about them a couple of months back when one of their co-founders and ‘Director of User Happiness’ (please don’t laugh), guested on a friend’s radio show and was intrigued, so I called him. When we spoke, his story was so compelling that I was sure the company was destined to be a major boon to small businesses and entrepreneurs trying to carve out a niche for themselves in this ever-changing environment.

The concept developed over time. Three old college friends, secure but ungratified in the corporate world, started kicking around the idea of creating a company together that would not only enable them to be creative and productive, but provide a genuine service. It would bring small businesses and consumers together transparently — making it easy for them to buy and sell services securely on line. It would not be an aggregator site. It would not be a bidding site. It would not be a deal-of-the-day site. It would be a site by and for small businesses to promote themselves for free, meaning they have nothing to lose and everything to gain. Services would be free, including photos, videos, testimonials and web support. Consumers would feel secure in selecting contractors from Thumbtack because they would verify all credentials — and potential customers could contact providers directly. Thumbtack would only charge a small fee or commission when a hire was secured through their leads program.

It took them a couple of years to put it all together, but Thumbtack was launched in 2008. It may not have been the most propitious year to start a company, but true to their desire to make a difference in people’s lives, it turned out to be a tremendous asset to businesses feeling the upheaval of the economic hard times.

The other thing I like about them? They have a heart. When Hurricane Irene wrecked havoc on the east coast a couple of months back, Thumbtack and their community of providers banded together to provide disaster relief services to affected communities. To insure no obstacles would stand in the way of their being able to help restore essential services to storm victims, Thumbtack waived their service and commission fees — and everything they did, they did quietly. They didn’t treat the devastation as an opportunity to grab some good press as so many others do. They earned my trust.

Thanks to Chris Brogan for my little ‘aha’ moment. You can bet I’ll be reaching for Thumbtack in my toolbox of tips.

Remembering Gus

Yesterday would have been Gus Tyler’s 100^th birthday.  Although he missed his centennial by just a few months, he likely would have downplayed the event, because he hadn’t yet reached his goal of outliving Moses.

Gus was the epitome, if not the living history, of the American Labor movement. It was his passion, along with history, philosophy, global warming, the immigrant experience, crime in America and virtually any other topic you could think of. He authored countless books, hundreds of articles and blogged until he was 98. His energy and enthusiasm were seemingly insatiable. Though he was well up in years when I knew him, it was hard to define him by age.  He was active, spirited, bright-eyed and urbane, and seemed to transcend any standard frames of reference.

I knew him from my early years in NYC radio, but it wasn’t until the 80’s when I asked him to host a regular public affairs program, did I come to understand what a remarkable life he led and the perspective he brought, not only to his role as Assistant President of the ILGWU, but as a student of the human condition.  He was a storyteller, and as such, every complex subject he tackled was brought down to earth wrapped in a parable everyone could take to heart. I may have been his producer, but he was my mentor, and my friend.

Gus had an insatiable curiosity and intellect that could tackle anything from the most complex political, social and economic issues to the foibles of the human condition, with both humor and skepticism, before making a convincing argument for his own solutions which, by the time he got there, left no reason for doubt. People who knew him, also knew that he credited his mother for his basic premise that people are people: they shouldn’t be rich and they shouldn’t be poor but everyone should be able to have what they need. Call it socialist philosophy; I prefer to call it humanistic. My family felt similarly, and I grew up thinking that life was just about playing fair and people taking care of each other.   

 I asked him once what  he actually ‘did’ for the ILGWU.  He told me he considered himself an agitator, which is what he was dubbed in his early years. Although he still relished the title, to me, the term was misleading – like being called a trouble maker.  He was more like a chef who loved stirring the pot: tasting it, adding a little of this-a little of that, and tweaking the ingredients until he got it just where he wanted it to be, which, for the most part was ‘just right’.

 The people he knew throughout his long career read like an encyclopedia of great names of the 20^th century, but it didn’t impress him in the least. True to his beliefs, people were just people and if they used their talents and celebrity to help others they became part of his inner circle – which was quite large.

Studs Terkel, the pre-eminent oral historian for the working class, came out with a new book, and I mentioned to Gus that I wanted to contact his publicist and set up an interview.  ‘Don’t bother,’ he said.  ‘I’ll just give him a call.’  Turns out they were not only old friends, but used each other as resources for decades.  I taped two hours of their recollections.

When Bayard Rustin was approaching his 75^th birthday, I suggested we do a tribute to him.  ‘No problem,’ said Gus.  ‘I’ll give him a call.’  The three of us met in the station lobby, the day of the interview. Gus teased me that if I asked nicely, Bayard would tap dance for me, and he did.  This tall, thin, absolutely elegant man with a flock of grey-white hair, who marched with Martin Luther King, tapped his way down the long hallway straight into the studio. Gus told me he was taught by none other than Bojangles himself, Bill Robinson.

Sol Chaiken retired as President of the ILGWU and Jay Mazur was named his successor. I asked Gus why he wasn’t selected. ‘Because they knew I would never accept it,’ he told me.  ‘Besides’, he said, ‘If I were President I would have to take the advice of whoever replaced me,’ he said. ‘This way, everyone needs to take my advice and I don’t have to listen to anyone.’  He had a valid point.

In time, my life changed dramatically.  Although New York was my world, I became engaged to a man who had relocated to the San Francisco Bay Area and I decided to join him. It was a major, if not scary decision that I confided to very few people. Everyone I did tell supported me and wished me well.  Then, I told Gus. It was over lunch at the University Tavern.  I thought he would be happy for me. Instead, he put his fork down and just looked at me for a minute. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and terse. Although he understood my position, ’As a daughter’s father,’ he said, ‘I can tell you, you don’t belong there. Your soul is here.  Let him come to you.’

I didn’t listen, and within a month, I was living in the Bay area.  The last time I spoke with Gus, was a later that year on his 80^th birthday.   His wife Marie picked up the phone.  ‘He’s at the library,’ she said.  I was amazed. ‘It’s his birthday!  What’s he doing there?’  She explained that it was his tradition to spend part of every birthday at the library learning something new.  When he called back, he didn’t want to talk about his birthday and pooh-poohed people wanting to make a fuss over him. As far as he was concerned, as long as he remained active and learning and doing, he wasn’t that old.  What he did want to know though, was if I was ready to admit he was right and come home.

What Do You Mean?

When I first created my website a friend suggested I should have selected a more corporate looking template. You know the type. Glossy infographics on a sleek background. Pictures of CEOs sitting around a conference table or shaking hands. Imbedded videos. Teammates looking bright eyed and smiley-faced as they exchanged ideas. That may be a good image for some, but that’s just not me.

I’m a small business, and my MO is helping other small businesses find their voices and grow their markets, effectively, creatively and inexpensively. I don’t want to misrepresent myself or my company in any way shape or form and I certainly don’t want to give the illusion that I’m out of reach to a start up who might find a glitzy, sophisticated website with all the bells and whistles and think I was out of their league. What I want to convey is honesty, transparency, creativity and competency. What I am ‘for’, is people, because after all, isn’t that what public relations and communications is all about?

The economy has put excess stresses and strains on the business community over the past few years. Statistics show that while more people are becoming entrepreneurs, over half will fail within 5 years, partly because they lack of resources they think they need promote their businesses in meaningful ways, or because they lack the time it takes to do it on their own. The truth is, small businesses have a golden opportunity to connect first hand with their potential markets in meaningful ways that do not need to involve plastering their names on the sides of buses or getting into the hole by investing in expensive campaigns that don’t accurately reflect their mission or their value. Small businesses are gifted with the potential to create ties that bind and strong brands that stand the test of time.

A website needs to be a genuine extension of what you represent as a business and as a brand, and whether you are looking at the visuals, reading the words, or hearing them spoken, the transition must be seamless. The story that you tell through your website needs to express not only the services you provide but who you are and what you stand for. Quite simply, it’s an integral part of your whole story; and your whole story must resonate in the hearts and minds of the people you want to reach. Plain and simple.

Pieces of Dreams

A few months back, I was lunching at Angeline’s in Berkeley with a fellow veteran of NYC broadcasting. We were telling old ‘war stories.’ At one point in the conversation he looked at me and said, ‘How did we ever do all that?’ My immediate response was, ‘We were young. No one ever told us we couldn’t!’ Then we laughed.

I think that’s true in most cases. There is a point in our lives when we think there is nothing in the world we can’t do. As our ideas are accepted, we build momentum, get positive feedback and encouragement the skies the limit. Then we go through space and time. We get knocked down a few times. Perhaps we take poor advice from someone we think knows us better than we know ourselves. Maybe we listen to good advice from someone about something that worked for them but doesn’t ‘fit’ us. After a while, we start questioning whether we can really achieve what’s in our hearts and minds. We start putting limitations on ourselves. Pretty soon, we just stop dreaming. We start using terms like ‘if only I…’, ‘I wish I had…’, ‘Why didn’t I…’.

One of my favorite quotes comes from George Eliot, the 19th century female writer of such literary classics as Silas Marner and Adam Bede, who used a male pseudonym to insure her work would be taken seriously. She said, ‘It is never too late to be what you might have been.’

I’m not naïve enough to take those words at face value. I know life, its constraints and responsibilities, need to temper our decisions and our dreams, but I also know that when we permit our hopes and dreams to enter our reality in the form of goals they become achievable in the context of our own lives and the lives of those around us. We become lighter, think with more clarity, are more decisive and promote an aura or ‘brand,’ that attracts people to us, enabling not only our success, but theirs as well. Lead by example. Empower others. Share the wealth.

Roots

My grandmother’s ‘garden’ consisted of an enormous lilac amid cement slabs in the back of her brownstone apartment in Brooklyn.  As a child, I loved retreating under its branches and getting lost in the intoxicating fragrance of its violet blooms, dreaming that one day my house would be covered with lilacs, growing like vines clear up to the rooftop.

No such luck. When I was grown, and living in my own apartment — a 4th floor walk up in the heart of NYC’s Chelsea district, a garden was not an option. Sun was at a premium because of the height and proximity of surrounding buildings. I opted to cover the top of my apartment sized grand piano, which was sitting in the only window facing out toward the street, with as many different indoor plants I could find.  Coleus, philodendrons, pothos, prayer plants, elephant ears, crotons, ferns, snake plants huddled side by side, their heads struggling outward toward the light, and while I tended them dutifully, my indoor garden became more like a hospital ward of tall spindly stalks whose leaves dried and withered, not standing a chance against low light and radiator heat. 

Undaunted, I placed a brilliant red geranium on my fire escape.  A couple of days later, the building superintendent knocked on my door.  “Got a present for you,” he said, “compliments of the NYFD.”  I took a paper from his hand and found a citation.  The geranium had to go. They had determined that my little 6-inch pot was a hazard in the event of a fire.

New worlds opened up to me when we moved to California.  We lived in an old Victorian house that had been converted into four apartments.  We had the ground floor — again, very little light. The front garden had a few shrubs.  As renters we couldn’t plant, but there was a wonderful porch in part shade that I quickly filled with flower boxes and planters — virtually everything I could find that would live in pots, and some that couldn’t, but it didn’t stop me from trying.  Pretty soon, I matriculated to larger plants:  small camellias, foxgloves, small hydrangeas, bleeding hearts all lined the front steps and ferns and ivies hung from the overhangs.  But l longed to grow roses and lilacs.  The one time garden out back had long been paved over to create parking space for the tenants.  When our downstairs neighbor moved out, I quickly commandeered his parking spot and put out pots filled with David Austin roses and a ‘Lavender Lady’ lilac.  We told our new upstairs neighbor who used the front entrance that the woman before her thought street parking was more practical. At least half the drive was soon overtaken by everything from delphiniums to lilies, yarrow, sweet peas — virtually every type of plant that came in shades of pink, blue, purple or white. 

Professionally, I had transitioned from broadcasting and public relations to technology after moving to the Bay Area.  It didn’t quite feed my creative spirit. I added balance back by taking courses in Ornamental Horticulture. Whenever we took a drive, I grabbed a pail, clippers, trowel and plastic bags, hoping to find some easy-to-liberate California natives I could bring home to naturalize. I pulled lichen off trees to pretty-up pots and arrangements and pulled the bark off eucalyptus to make yule logs decorated with pepper berries at holiday time. The neighbors came to me with gardening questions and asked for landscaping suggestions.   I went to work.  I came home.  I played in dirt.  Over the course of time, my husband, no longer content to be the resident pot-schlepper, joined in.  

When we bought a house and moved to the East Bay, we transported more plants than furniture with us and what the movers couldn’t fit in the van we loaded into a rental truck. Over the years the camellia has reached full height.  Our garden is studded with roses, lavenders, wisteria and clematis.  Hydrangea, lavatera and jasmine are virtually out of control and foxgloves are replenished every year. Volunteer scabiosa and nigella have reseeded year after year and a host of other volunteer seedlings offer color and pleasure as the year unfolds.  Over this past week, lenten roses and hyacinths have started to display, deciduous daylilies are breaking their dormancy and our plum is in full bloom – and my lilac, which we planted against the back wall of the house,  now stretches it’s limbs to the eaves.  It’s a childhood dream come true.