A success: One Good Deed Chicago planned a day of service at Douglas Park Oct. 22, drawing 130+ Chicagoans to help beautify and clean up the park.

Since I wrote last, the day-to-day of my VISTA work has been an ever-changing ride of successes and setbacks. Some days, it’s been thrilling, meeting new people who are doing incredible work in the city. Other days, it’s seemed a bit like an uphill battle.

Fortunately, I’ve been drawing inspiration from the book Soul of a Citizen, by Paul Rogat Loeb. Loeb tears down the barriers and myths that keep many people from getting involved in activism. Loeb writes that even though we may have no money, support or clout; even though we may not know all the complexities of an issue; even though we may think we’re way too low on the totem pole, we can still do something. We must keep out of the sticky trap of the “perfect standard” — wanting to find the perfect issue to get involved in, know everything about it, be able to express it eloquently and powerfully, etc. — if we want to get anything done. It’s better to be imperfect, or “good enough,” and chugging along in our work for progress. 

Loeb also takes on the myth of the activist as a perfect hero who instantly created change. In the book, he writes that Rosa Parks actually worked as an activist for years. Her seat on the bus was not, as typically depicted, a spontaneous act. And Gandhi was painfully shy — so much so, that when he first became a lawyer, he stuttered and was so paralyzed by fear he couldn’t speak in court.

All of these stories remind me that results don’t come instantly, and even though I’m so passionate about creating positive change, I’m just starting out. I have faith that in a year, or five, or fifty, when I step back and look at the big picture, it’ll all make sense.

“Better to help ten real hurting people — or nine, or one, than to be overwhelmed and withdraw and do nothing.” – Sister Helen Prejean

I moved on August 1 and it was 90+ degrees with 80 percent humidity. I heard the cicadas buzz for the first time. I roasted in my furnitureless room. Soon after moving, I was robbed leaving the grocery store, leaving me ID-less, cash-less and in a bind: the bank wouldn’t give me a temporary card since I’d recently changed my address and had no ID. Besides losing more than $100 in cash and gift cards, and all the subsequent inconvenience, I also lost some pride: I considered myself a savvy traveler type, always careful to double-check that I had my belongings safe. It really can happen to anyone.

Besides that little hiccup and some homesickness, the transition has been good. My roommates are sweet, responsible and drama-free; my boss is amazing; and my job is great.

I’m working as the service communications coordinator at Mayor Rahm Emanuel’s office. The position is through AmeriCorps VISTA – a federally sponsored volunteer program that seeks to end poverty through building the capacity of local nonprofits & other organizations.

Our project is called One Good Deed Chicago. It’s a Cities of Service initiative that aims to increase volunteerism in the areas where Chicago needs it most. This year, the big push is for education and college readiness. I get a chance to work with amazing organizations like Big Brothers Big Sisters, Chicago Cares and Spark.

Already, it’s been an incredibly educational experience. I run the website, social media and communications efforts. I’m learning how to use tools like social media to connect with potential volunteers, nonprofits and influencers. Soon, I’ll be case managing 10 of the selected partner organizations, so I’ll get to learn about nonprofit management from a really unique perspective. I already feel more knowledgeable than when I graduated, and I feel like before the year is over I’ll have changed and grown a lot.

However, being a VISTA has its challenges. Since the program is designed to fight poverty, part of it is that VISTAs live in poverty: The living allowance is set at 110% of the poverty line. Given that, saving for the future is difficult, trips to the doctor are anxiety-ridden and something like buying a winter coat requires planning and sacrifice.

Lucky for me, I have a family who would help me in an emergency, a pretty affordable apartment, and the tech savvy and education to be able to navigate things like the Department of Health and Human Services, where last week I applied for food stamps.

It’s definitely a little surreal to be working in Chicago’s stately City Hall, side by side with well-dressed, (relatively) well-paid people, working my butt off, and getting paid… very little.

But that’s life as a VISTA: a Volunteer In Service To America.

More to come.

With love from the Windy City,
A

I like music, restaurants, and comedy.
vs. the sane approach:
I like music, restaurants and comedy.

Because I’m a journalist trained in AP Style, that little bugger makes me want to attack it with a red pen. I’m sure literary types will disagree with me on this one, but I feel serial commas usually just slow a sentence down.

Like most lovers of the English language, I have a really twisted relationship with grammar. I hate, as NPR critic Linda Holmes calls it, “Capitalization For Cutesy Point-Making,” and when people put apostrophe’s in weird place’s it makes me want to scream. However, I’m still sometimes unsure about the difference between if I was and if I were.

I’m pretty sure my “natural” knack for grammar and spelling actually comes from reading a lot during childhood. As I was sort of a shy kid, I really loved reading. That’s not to say this was a highbrow practice. In fact, I spent the summer between fifth and sixth grades devouring tacky V.C. Andrews novels.

This little book clarifies why these things are so confusing, and is also hilarious in a very British way:

Although some of the rules in it are different here on the other side of the pond, it’s still fascinating as it delves into some of the back story of our language. The most important thing I realized from reading it is that language is a fluid, changing thing. Perhaps my defense of the use of “his or her” is already becoming outdated. Maybe I shouldn’t judge People who Capitalize Random Things in their facebook Status Updates.

(*cringe*)

And in other, way-more-important news: I’m moving to Chicago.

Apparently things are really different there:

More to come.

Here’s the kicker: “You can live in a small, poor country and work for a small company in a boring branch,” Utko says. “You can have no budget, no people, but still can put your work to the highest possible level… to be good is not enough.”

Looking at the front pages on a site like Newseum shows that most newspapers are stuck in a ridiculous rut with design. They follow formulaic templates and some — even worse — publish “grip-and-grin” photographs. I shudder. I know there are plenty of amazing designers out there. Actually, I’m pretty sure there were people in my Media Design 300 class that could design better than some of these mid-sized papers. What does that say? The companies that own newspapers aren’t prioritizing design. But they really should.

Speaking of great design, I couldn’t not mention my friends Amy and Jen Hood, who have started a design company called Hoodzpah. I got to work with the Hoods, along with the ethereal Blythe Hill, at the now-defunct OC Gazette. I have been hoping to collaborate with these lovely ladies on a project for some time. Every time I see their work I stare in awe and jealousy at their artistic skills. They’re amazing. I’ll just show you, and then you’ll be inspired to check out their beautiful and hip website:

Jen and Amy — Sorry I stole your stuff. It was all in the name of shameless promotion.

My dad and I haven’t always had the best relationship. When I was a kid, he was neither the nurturer nor the disciplinarian (my mom filled both roles, somehow), he worked hard and traveled often. My memories of him are a backyard full of the weekend type: Dad working in the yard, baseball cap and old jeans; Dad repairing a fence; Dad on vacation. I don’t mean to say that as an insult or to say he was a bad parent, and I can’t say that I was the sweetest angel of a daughter either (especially in the years 12-18). But a strange part of growing up is getting to know who your parents are as people, and seeing their flaws, strengths and how they’ve changed. Now that I am in my 20s, we have a great relationship, and I’m so lucky. Here are four things my dad taught me (most of them indirectly) that I am so thankful for.

Your destiny is not predetermined. My dad had a less-than-ideal childhood in a small town in Northern California. He could very well have gotten a job in a small business or trade and stayed there, but he didn’t. He started his own business, and had the guts and tenacity to stick with it until a decade later it started to grow. In the same vein, my father somehow rose out of a difficult family situation with amazing good sense and an open heart. He proves that no one has to live in the metaphorical tire tracks of family legacies of hurt, abuse or small-mindedness.

Love is something that happens to you — let it. This is a story that starts before I was born, but I’ll stick with the contemporary part: A few weeks after my mom died, my dad told me he was dating someone. Through the veil of grief, I took this as a personal attack on my mother, a sign he didn’t really love her, an absolute betrayal. Not until much later did I realize that his actions over the previous 25 years showed how much he loved my mom, and there was no way he could have gone out looking for a date. Rather, he met a woman and they clicked. And he let it happen. Love’s just weird like that. Now they’re married, and I have a stepmom, a new brother and sister, and a huge family of aunts, uncles and cousins. And I’m so grateful for their presence in my dad’s life and mine.

Hard work pays off. My dad’s first job was pumping gas. Today, he works with Fortune 500 companies. He regularly meets with people who work for Amazon or Disney. Having lived in a wide variety of the income and class spectrum, he accepts no excuses from me: “Have you looked for a job at Google?” he asks. “Have you applied for anything at Dow Jones?” I can’t tell if he’s oblivious to the fact that I just graduated from a state school or has some kind of incredible faith in my skills, but either way, I appreciate it.

Never accept security in lieu of what you really want. Now nearly 50, my dad has a job that allows him to live quite comfortably (I’d venture to say that if 6-year-old Joe saw it, he’d call it riches). After decades of work, he sold his business to a larger company and went to work for them. But he’s been unfulfilled in his work for some time, and recently resigned. He has a mortgage, wife and two college-aged stepchildren, but he was unwilling to accept personal misery for a paycheck at this point in his life. More importantly, he has the faith and courage to step out of a comfortable spot into an unknown. I have no doubt he’ll find something amazing.

So thanks, Dad, for these things and more. Our tee time is at 4:32. Happy Father’s Day.

“Journalist: a person without any ideas but with an ability to express them; a writer whose skill is improved by a deadline: the more time he has, the worse he writes.” -Karl Kraus

The other thing is that reporting is a career in which there are absolutely no two days that are alike. Really, there aren’t even two hours that are alike. Yes, maybe some reporters get into the swing of things and the stories start to seem the same, but for those of us who love telling stories, it’s always a thrill to meet new people and tell their stories.

When I think about that in comparison to working in pretty much any other office job, I remember what a great gig it is. Sure, it doesn’t pay well, and the hours are long, and sometimes people yell at you, but it’s exciting and there’s the chance to make a difference.

This is always evident to me, but I was just working on invoicing my stories for May, and here is a real-life (abbreviated) list of topics I’ve written about in the last few weeks:

• the Dalai Lama
• a fish fry
• a private school graduation
• a Navy SEAL who is also an artist
• a mom who survived an avocado-sized brain tumor
• a ban on registered sex offenders in public parks, beaches
• a fundraiser for a family who lost everything in a fire
• a reunion of the birth of modern sport hang gliding

I could go on, but you get the idea. I’ve only been in the industry a few years, but when I think about all the people I’ve met and experiences I’ve had that I never would’ve otherwise, it’s pretty incredible.

I’m trying to remember this as fuel for the terrible, dizzying crapshoot of applying and interviewing for jobs. (There’s that and Pandora comedy stations.) If you have any ideas, please share!

* This is much more evident in general assignment reporting than reporting on, say, a city hall, but it applies nonetheless.

Mostly I’ve been thinking about what kind of work would be most fulfilling for me. I’m still in the brainstorming phases here, but I definitely want to work in a collaborative environment where people care about what they’re doing (read: I don’t want to work from home). And I’ve realized that creating — whether it’s crafting an article or designing a page — is super important to me. On a larger level, I care about the economy, poverty, politics, social issues and much much more. Of course, I’ve been training for years to follow my dream career path, but I’m not sure how it will really fit together in the puzzle of my life. In the meantime, I’m trying to keep my mind open to all the possibilities.

I love this video from TED, in which this very talented designer discusses the value of time off. It’s a poignant reminder never to be satisfied with the status quo. Enjoy.

It’s a profile on a Long Beach business: Flowers on 7th. The place caught my attention because for months, I drove by it and the sign proclaimed “JUST MARRIED: MATTHEW AND LINA.” (Those caps aren’t for added emphasis- that’s really what it said.) I figured the shop closed down for good. Then one day, the sign had changed! It said “NEW OWNERS: MATTHEW AND LINA.” I thought it was a fluke– maybe they hadn’t changed the bottom part of the sign yet. Alas, I called, and a few days later, I stopped by the shop to meet those famous newlyweds.

That’s Matthew. He and his wife, Lina, took over the business about two months ago. They had known the previous owner (hence the sign). They’re a very sweet young couple with two kids, trying to make a go of it in this small business.  I stopped in again on Mother’s Day and took some more shots as they dealt with the holiday flower madness.

Cheers to the Matthews and Linas of the world, taking a chance on opening up a small business against the odds.

It’s actually a very interesting and controversial issue.

And I keep forgetting to write about this, but also: The story that won the Society of Professional Journalists Regional Mark of Excellence Award went on to win first place nationally. This is a huge honor and I’m so thankful! The credit should go to former Daily 49er Editor-in-Chief Brian Cuaron and all the students who helped make the phone calls, put the data together and design it in an attractive package.

I’m fairly exhausted, but in micro-blogging terms, here’s an update: Finished Daily 49er production, getting ready for finals, graduation in 10 days, more work and thinking about the future to come.

And now, back to the books.

Mom & me back in the day, circa early 1990s

It’s been about four years since I hugged my mom, heard her say my name or stayed up late watching Friends with her. My mom passed away in 2007; some days it feels like yesterday. It never gets easier to tell people. When I’m sad, all I want is her shoulder to cry on. When I get good news, all I want to do is call her and hear her voice.

On birthdays, Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving and of course, Mother’s Day, it’s much worse.

I know anyone who has lost a parent understands this. But instead of getting too mopey, I want to share a brief list of things my mom taught me. Note that this is a selection from what could be turned into a large book.

1. People are just people.
No matter if you’re talking to the guy ringing the Salvation Army bell outside the supermarket or the Queen of England, we’re all people with the same hopes and fears. When I was a shy kid, my mom taught me not to be intimidated to talk to (terrifying) grown-ups: “They’re just people, too.”

2. Be generous.
My mom is remembered as someone who gave the most incredible gifts. She’d pick some special theme for a gift and put together a big, beautiful basket all wrapped up in cellophane and ribbons. Every year, she sent my cousins who live in Utah a new pair of pajamas and slippers that fit them perfectly and matched their personalities, despite the fact that we didn’t see them very often.

3. There’s only one way: through.
My mom had to deal with some things no one should ever have to. She never became bitter at her situation or anyone. She never whined, or said “Why me?” She never let her circumstances define her. She just did what she had to do, one day at a time. She was the bravest person I’ve ever met.
She reminded me to forgive even those who had been cruel, and give people the benefit of the doubt.
She taught me that no matter how hard you cry at night, the sun will still come up in the morning.

Mom & me at the Aquarium of the Pacific.

4. Make time for fun.
My parents and I would go on weekend day trips all the time when I was a kid and teenager: to the funky vintage shops of Melrose Avenue in LA, a deli in Studio City or downtown San Diego. We never had a lot of money, but they always took a little bit of time and money to make these memories. Now, I cherish them. I remember when we went to that nursery, aquarium, museum. A Saturday spent on the couch is a Saturday wasted.

5. Never try to clean eggs or cheese off a pan with the green scrubby side.
Seriously, it’ll never come out.

Although I only got 20 short years with my mom, I know I’m one of the luckiest daughters alive. My mom taught me to be independent, confident, nurturing and driven. She raised me to believe in love, hope and myself.

Thanks, Mom.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the mamas out there.