Sandwich woman: Spread between cancers

Cancer now links my daughter and my father. I am equally helpless with both. Jelly.

I watch my daughter joking, hearing between the words the fear of the unknown.

I watch her face as she shares an update on my father that comes through my brother indirectly as he warns us to no longer consider a hospital recommended the week before. Now, my brother is unsatisfied with the care given my dad as he lets it slip that there is no feeling below the arms, that he expects The Call any day.

I think of the last conversation with my dad, the day I had to tell him what my daughter had. I heard his voice, and wish I had not. I wish I could have held forever the memory of what his voice was, not what it is. He spoke for a long time and I could feel love and fear, even as it was impossible to decipher the actual words.

I am not the perfect daughter. Not even the good daughter. I thought there would be more time, that first I had to be strong. And then, when I was ready to hear more stories, ready to make more decisions, I had to leave again. We are good at postponing, it is our tradition.

News of test results slip into conversations between my daughter and nurses or receptionists. But, then, as if they realize what was just revealed they stop reeling off the results and say the doctor will explain all of this on Thursday. Thursday can't come fast enough. Thursday should never come.

We talk of hoping that her hair will grow back curly, of a friend's offer to turn her mane into a wig, the weirdness of where hair grows and where it doesn't.

I listen. I worry. I collect information, I help where I can, I answer the emails and phone calls. I debate - how much truth can she hold now and what is the truth.

For years, it has been my father and my daughter who have visited me at the hospitals, who offered their own brands of humor and caring to nurse me through challenges.

It is hard to believe that now I am to be the strong one, the filling between the two generations stung by cancer.

Fill my ceiling with Twitter, more

I watch the world waken as Twitters slide into my account. Sometimes another screen holds Facebook statuses. Pump in Friendfeed and RSS

On days like today, when only my mind escapes the concrete truck's dump, I so need that reach of humanity. Even when the mushiness of my mind prevents timely responses, I want to read the echos of the world

Make me laugh. Make me think. Make me smile.

Above me lies - again - a boring white ceiling. Imagine the Twitters, the statuses, the feeds floating across in ink-jet perfection. 72 point? Or larger?

This distraction that could render useless the need for yet another numbing pill on days when holding the iPhone hurts as much as carrying your world.

But like the old man who remembers his roof leaks only when it is raining, these ideas of constructive distraction come only when I am incapable of implementing. Unlike the old man in the fiddle performance, the conversation is one sided. The only sound comes from the iPhone - until the battery dies or someone who can move comes home.

I watch from afar as the world starts to sleep, imprisoned by playing a normal person yesterday.

The past creates shadows on today

I am breaking a lot of self-imposed rules, ironically while reading others who write about online friendships.

I am writing on the iPhone (makes it hard to cite URLs) but last night as I reviewed another day of firsts, I started thinking about some posts that have caught my brain. There was Louis Gray, who reminded how sometimes we can help our virtual friends in the real world with a gesture as simple as using PayPal to pay a bill for someone in need. Kate Carruthers wrote about this need we have to know who are friend and who are foe.

I remember jumping yesterday, sharing everything about my server in the hopes a problem could be solved while I shivered my way through a night of badly needed sleep. I could hear my grandfather shouting, reminding me not to trust anyone, not even my own mother. Yet, I gave everything - more then was needed - because I was so tired of wrestling with permissions, passwords, scripts, etc.

I just surrender. My favorite books, notes and even techies are nine hours away. I am too fragile today to open my email, to check the server, to see if what was promised was done and that all is right in the world.

I want to believe .... at least for awhile longer. Friend or foe? Why can't I believe what I know from the eyes and the heart?

My grandmother probably turned over in her grave, too, as she watched me create a fake Alfredo sauce from cream cheese and other surprises. I cry later over the dinner too. I am finally cooking - but not in the place I so much want to be right now. I cry because I can't cuddle. I cry because I am cold.

I just cry. That makes me mad because big girls don't cry. Mothers don't cry. I don't cry.

I jokingly say I hope a recommended book has a chapter on how to stop all the crying. The emailed reply explains "The tears were there, crying releases them."

I carry the thought today as I visit Big Lots for the first time, demand (nicely) a printed newspaper and tell my credit card company that it is me making these out of character purchases in multiple states and yes, online, too

My daughter and I look for a college course, try on marked-down Halloween wigs, make plans for the years down the road, and ...

And I wait until I close the door on the game room turned bedroom to cry once more, wanting to believe I trusted, trust the right people, the right things, the right doctors, the right words, the right everything.

The fears are there; crying sometimes releases them.

The past is here with the people who preached and the choices I made. The new movements release the unnecessary to allow survival.

And I cry.

Updated 5/13/09 with links and fixes like . verb tenses and spelling.

Culture shock: Living with 24-year-olds, living here

I did not expect smooth sailing when I moved in with my daughter and her boyfriend. It is surprising, to me, the things that shock me.

Like, I have learned to bring my own reading material now to the waiting rooms of the hospitals and clinics near this small Tennessee town. First, I never know if I will have Internet access. And second, I'm a reader and I guess many folks around here are not. Otherwise, why so many out-of-date magazines.

I now look to see what is the newest magazine and the oldest magazine in the designated waiting area. Yesterday, the oldest was from 2002 and the newest from 2006.

Today, I read Wired while waiting. Imagine my surprise when I was asked if it was a home magazine. Really. I left the magazine behind so perhaps she read it.

I missed the changing of the leaves in Michigan so it is nice to catch them here in Tennessee. However, I would like some horizontal parking lots here. It is a struggle to get out of the car each time we stop.

The city I left was fairly Democratic; the one I am in now swings Republican. That led to a whole new set of political ads the days of the campaign and conversations I am sure I would not have heard back home. Interesting, but different. OK, I don't want to hear any more about the KKK.

Last, but not least, is finding the differences in how 24-year-olds live. I am discovering new TV programs and channels, new foods, new routines and even some new attitudes.

Did I mention the futon? Or exercise machine that is my clothes closet?

I also discovered the advantages of being first up are a hot shower and a fast Internet connection. Boy, games are Internet hogs :-)

Hotel of huggers, great service

My recent stay at a Marriott was bookmarked by service beyond the expected.

I love driving - especially when the traffic is light and good music is filling the car. The four-hour drive to Indianapolis brought back memories of many road trips as a roadie, a musician and a festival organizer. Only now, I could stay in touch with family and friends with a txting splash at each road stop.

I have been to Indianapolis enough times now - to visit friends and IUPUI for seminars and computer-assisted reporting workshops - that I should have remembered how much I don't like getting into the downtown area. The twists and turns are confusing.

Plus, add to the last-minute rush getting ready to go see my daughter in Tennessee after the convention. It added up to a tired woman checking into the hotel about 10 p.m. on a Saturday night.

Guess I looked bad - the hotel gave me room 444 because they said I looked like I needed an easy number to remember - and that was before I discovered my iPhone was missing.

Fortunately, the man who carried in my bags, boxes and suitcases - and I had a lot - went back to my car and found the missing phone.

The second night was broken up by a fire alarm - false - but the rest of the stay uneventful until I tried to leave.

On Wednesday night, I was to get a roommate. So, I had arranged for her name to be added to my hotel room. At 1 p.m., I learned about my daughter's cancer. At 10 p.m., I listened to a voice mail from the potential roommate who thought I was staying at a different hotel and had given up and gotten another room

When I checked out, I was surprised that there was nothing extra on my bill, but I was a little distracted so didn't review as carefully as I usually do.

Something made me stop, though, and I suddenly noticed that the bill showed I had been there one night only. Then, I noticed the bill was for the woman who never checked in. I explained that she hadn't checked in so she couldn't check out and that I needed my bill.

I burst out crying (and gee, I thought I had already cried all that I could). The clerk came out from behind the counter to hug me, then quickly got the right bill -- which did have parking and Internet charges -- and assured me they would sweep my room to see if I forgot anything. They also assured me that that the other woman was no longer assigned to the room.

It took nearly 30 minutes to cross the lobby as Girl Scout friends first greeted me with joy, then disappointment as they learned I was leaving and why. It was a lobby of hugs.

By then, the bellhop and car guys had loaded my car, filled my coffee cup, fixed my map and they, too, hugged me before I left.

Blogger writes about Conversations that Matter, while others use Twitter

The National Girl Scout Convention is getting some attention outside the walls.
Jack Martin Leith talks about the Conversations That Matter, learning about them through a post by Christine Whitney Sanchez, on the Open Space Technology e-list.

Jack quotes Christine:

"The 900 person Open Space for Sharing and Learning has just concluded with members posting 62 topics over two sessions. Picture girls standing at the microphones, thanking the adults for truly listening to them and adults tearfully expressing their passion and gratitude for everything they learned. Lisa Heft did a magnificent job of holding the space and inviting new thinking."

He also Twittered several times about Girl Scouts, including these Tweets

@skap5 says" K Cloninger CEO of Girl Scouts flipped business model on its head." Membership orgs?

Girl Scouts of the USA model participatory democracy using Open Space, World Cafe & Appreciative Inquiry. www.jackmartinleith.com/?p=... about 14 hours ago from web

Also excited to be here is PJClou9 from Minnesota, who tweeted just a few minutes ago:

"Having fun at Girl Scout convention!"

Early her Tweets included this:

"Hoping everyone's Halloween festivities are ready to roll. I am going to eat dinner than Wii w/Girls Scouts til 8. "

Here's another Tweet:

skap5: @jackmartinleith I spoke with Kathy Cloninger CEO of Girl Scouts recently and she is fantastic. Flipped the business model on its head.
And another:


brandologist: Went to opening ceremonies of Girl Scouts annual convention tonight. Mayor Ballard read proclamation of today as Girl Scouts day.


CMCMediaGroup: covering the girl scouts convention

Did I miss anyone?

This originally appeared in Convention Talk, a discussion board set up by the national Girl Scouts organization.
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Big blow: Daughter, 24, has cancer

It's getting tiring to hear how unexpected it is for a 24-year-old to have cancer. To fight the insurance battles so soon. And to know how fast we must act.

I left Michigan on Sunday to drive to Indiana to get ready for the Girl Scout Convention, where a project was to drive Conversations That Matter and get girls to become digital storyweavers.

On Wednesday afternoon, I got the unbelievable news that my daughter has breast cancer. For the rest of the day, the phrase "first, you cry" came to mind as the tears just kept coming. I knew they needed to be out of my system before I made it to Tennessee where my daughter now lives.

The people I had been working with were wonderful - understanding why I had to leave and several people added to their jobs and new ones stepped up to take over some of the things I had taken on.

They also quickly provided support in numerous ways, making sure I ate, rested and surrounded with hugs and love.

I drove from Indy to Tennessee, through construction and detours, stopping frequently to stretch, and rewarded by being able to hug my daughter.

Today, we spent at the Hope Cancer Center learning how much we don't know yet and getting scared by what we know. One thing for sure is that it is aggressive and treatment needs to start ASAP. But first, we need to know more:

Is the cancer in one place? That requires more tests, which the insurance company says it must precertify the need first.

Did the pathologist have more information and it is just the fax that is missing it?

Yet, the doctor was frank: surgery, chemo and radiation is necessary. What's left is how much and when. And for that we need some of the blood results back, an MRI and a cat scan done.

Looks like we have found another good reason I took the buyout. I can now live in Tennessee and help my daughter survive choosing a doctor, a treatment plan and then living through it. Perhaps I can find a way to stop the weight loss, the pain.

Perhaps, my being here will help my daughter - already determined she will fight and win. In fact, she went to work today at her pizza place. She's swamped with customers, can barely stay awake and yet says she needs work to help her focus.

Much in the same way, I'm trying to help with the Girl Scout convention long distance.

But mostly, I still want to cry at the unfairness even as I know nobody ever said life was fair.

Open Space starts with listing ideas

The idea of self organizing through Open Space fascinates me. It's the ultimate in showing democracy rules, that the crowd is wise.

The people present at Open Space determine what will be discussed during the session. Before I left Indy for a family emergency, Gabriel Shirley took time from his from his Digital Production and Digtial StoryWeaving duties to give me a quick tour and explanation of Open Space.

I watched girls and women go to a table, pick up a note that listed the issue they wanted to talk about, announce it over a microphone and then go post it on the "wall."

Later, I took a few minutes to look over some of the topics that people wanted to talk about and had posted on the wall. I was glad that someone took this photograph to help me preserve this memory.

I heard lead facilitator Lisa Heft announce that the enthusiasm of the group meant Open Space volunteers had to expand the number of topic groups. That was exciting. so was seeing girls among the adults.

Volunteers are working to transcribe the discussion and plans created by self-organizing groups. I'm hungry for information from the convention floor as well as from open space.

Originaly posted in Convention Talk, a new discussion board for the national Girl Scouts organzation.

GS Central unfolds in Indy

It's been inspiring to watch the Indy convention center unfold into Girl Scout Central.

The city too! I came back to my hotel tonight to discover a request to share my unused lotion, shampoo, etc. by putting it in the provided Girl Scout bag for a local service project

Speaking of donations ... got time to help some of us transcribe what happens at Open Space (a few spots left - register at 8 Thursday). Stop by StoryWeaving Cental anytime after 3:30 Thursday. That transcribing will take awhile so if you can't make it Tursday stop by another day.

We also want to share results from conversations. If you are willing to text for those who can't stop by, get a Ask Me About texting sticker. During or after the business meeting just text when asked, see if a conversation supporter (in aprons) has collected written thoughts by non- texters that you can text or stop by StoryWeaving Central to see what we have collected.

You will be able to see texting results live on screens at convention and via a web site plus on some printouts.

Oh and we are looking for people who were at 2005 convention to interview. Plus we need folks willing to journal about this year's convention.

We have other needs posted on site. Stop by. Say hello!

Originally posted in Convention Talk, a discussion board created by the national Girl Scouts.

Meet a StoryWeaver

A big part of the effort at the Girl Scouts annual convention is to use story to connect people.

In Convention Talk, the online discussion board for Girl Scouts, I wrote:

Remember back in July 2008 when the first Convention Connections newsletter was distributed to Girl Scout Councils and posted on the convention web site. One article suggested we practice story-telling by thinking about our own Girl Scout experiences, including leadership lessons and special people who had an impact on our lives.


In the past three months, I've "met" some incredible people by becoming involved in the StoryWeaver project. (I put met in quotes because those meetings have happened over the phone and on the web.) And I love hearing, reading and seeing their stories, especially their Girl Scout stories.


One of the first people I "met" was Gabriel Shirley But Christine Whitney Sanchez was the second.


I've been inspired to do a little weaving thanks to Lou Creber, who was heading up the Story Looms and organizing the Elders and Greeters. Unfortunately, Lou won't be in Indy.


I did get to meet Nancy Moeller, when I went to Macy and did some practice texting and worked with three girls who used borrowed video cameras to interview adults about their Girl Scout leadership stories. (Watch for the videos soon, and watch for the girls in Indy.)


Meanwhile, keep coming back through the convention.


UPDATE: Lou did make it to convention - she arrived on Wednesday. I still didn't get to meet her as I had to leave to be with family. (Yes, before the official opening of the convention. Thank goodness for the Internet)

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So many firsts: Some alarming, some scary

It's not often I get to have so many firsts on the same day/night. Let's see, 3 a.m. false fire alarm at hotel, a few scary phases and then all those new people. I survived.

We'll go backwards and start with the fire alarm that sounded at 3 a.m. in the hotel. I was almost ready to make the trip down to the stairs when the announcement came on and said it was false. Nice wakeup call.

Of course, I'm wondering if it is related to the problem of no hot water earlier today at the hotel.

Earlier in the day, I finally got to meet with some folks who really made the last three months of my life beyond interesting. I've talked with them on the phone (almost daily in some cases), exchanged lots of emails (definitely daily) and txted some (including sending one a message meant for my husband (must be careful).

Still despite that Dale Carnegie class, despite hosting a radio show, despite speaking on stage before thousands, was I ready to walk in the lobby and say hey? (They have all met before).

They didn't bite. Well, not at least until dinner.

The day started off scary - seems that a prescription is missing. I unpacked everything - including the stuff I packed for the time I'll spend in Tennessee. Nothing. My theory is the dog ate the pills, grabbing the box during the round of packing. Whatever. That left me with finding a way to get refills. (OK, first I debated skipping the prescription, but since I already skipped the flu shot I thought that might be too scary.)

I don't like it, however, when the concierge tells me "I should be safe there."

Actually, there was no reason to be scared of the drugstore or meeting the folks I could never call strangers. Dinner was much more of a family affair.

Study: Txting helps parent-teen relationship

I think I already knew this but it's nice to have some confirmation - even if the study was funded by a phone company.

Sometimes, it pays to clean out the files from your computer. I'm trying to make sure I'll have lots of space for video, text messages and other items from the Girl Scout national convention so I'm tossing a few things.

I re-discovered a study released in April that found that parents who text may have a better relationship with their teens:

• More than half (53%) of teens that text message think their relationship with their parents has improved because of text messaging.
• More than half (51%) of parents who text with their teens agree that they communicate more often with their kids now than they did before they began text messaging and that text messaging has actually improved their relationship.

The survey, commissioned by Samsung Mobile, was conducted by Kelton Research and included 300 American teens ages 13 – 19 and 500 American parents with children ages 13 – 19.

A press release on the survey is available. So is a video with teens and parents talking more about why they text.


originally posted in ConventionTalk, a discussion board created on the national Girl Scout web site to discuss the national convention/meeting of delegates.

Helicopter or chicken soup mom: How do you decide

Struggle time - just when should a mom drop everything to be with her daughter? Is support from miles away enough? Or should I leave this event and drive six hours to be next to her just in case the biopsy finds cancer?

But what if the results are not in? If it's not cancer?

Am I listening to the words and missing the meaning when she says "please, wait to come."

Will it be enough to wait by the phone? To send warm, encouraging thoughts.

Oh mom, what should this mom do?.

I voted - but it wasn't easy getting a ballot

Unbelievable is the only way to describe the way the absentee ballot system runs in Grand Blanc Township, near Flint, Michigan.

I'm heading out of town and originally expected to return the day before the election.

My daughter will soon get a biopsy so I want to extend my trip - by days and places - and spend some time with her.

It is a last minute decision, so I stopped by my local government office to get an absentee ballot. That's when the unbelievable part started.

I needed the paper ballot now, not mailed to me at the house I wouldn't be at until after the election. I also didn't want it mailed to a hotel.

Instead, I was told that legally it was impossible to give me a ballot now.

As I pressed the issue, I was told that it would be too confusing to do it now but I could call the next day, make an appointment and come in to get a ballot. And no, I couldn't tell her what time I was coming the next day, I had to call the next day.

By the time, I reached my car I was fuming. First call went to the county election department - very helpful. She led me to the state elections department. In between, a search of regulations and court rulings.

The county and state were sure I had heard wrong and the state even called the township to clarify.

I got my ballot. It took a while - long enough for one official to have a long discussion with me about how busy they are and can't really provide a ballot to every person who wants one on their time.

A steady stream of people came in and out during the two hours I was there. Each filled out the required absentee ballot request and patiently nodded when told the ballot would be mailed to them. Guess we have money to burn in my local government as we certainly wouldn't want to save on postage by handing them a ballot.

So a future fight, on another day I blackened the holes; let's see if it gets counted.

Faith: The bigger picture

I collect quotes - for inspiration, for cards, for journaling, and now for blogging. I was stopped by what one mother said about her son's recovery in a recent newspaper article.

The 14-year-old was hit by a car while riding his bike. The mother was praying. And though she hoped for recovery, that is not what she prayed for:

"I wanted God's will to be done no matter what it was because he knows my son better then I know my son....he knows what kind of life (Chris is) going to live - I don't.

Kelly Thornsberry, who was quoted in The Flint Journal on Oct. 19, 2008, page A4, has the bigger picture in mind. She reminds me once again that our children are not ours, no matter how much we would like to think they are.

It's a tradition: Change and griping

"What Happened to the Girl Scouts" is the headline on a magazine article that comes up in an Internet search. I'm amazed that mass media has picked up on the changes, an undercurrent of dissatisfaction in Girl Scouts.

Will it be about the merging of councils, the changing of programs, or lambasting the values? Is it pegged to the 51st National Council meeting in Indianapolis Oct. 29-Nov.2?

It is a look at values - the downplaying of international relationships. It is a look at changes - a handbook revised just 11 months after being published.

Nice - an article written in 1955 - has words that connect with today's Girl Scouts.

What pops out for me in the May 1955 Atlantic article is this:

"Every six or seven years the Girl Scouts completely revise their manual. In between - ordinarily the book remains the same during additional printings except for minor typographical corrections."

So change is a tradition.

"Yet less than a year after the first printing, more than sixty changes were ordered. Some expressions were toned down, strong sympathies diluted, and a few plain facts erased."

So revision is a tradition.

Author Ben H. Bagdikian, "one of the first to be alarmed by the policy of retreat disclosed in the article which follows" carefully looks for evidence that Girl Scouts, the organization, has changed its thinking, its values. He cites examples like this:

"The old Handbook said, "Scouts and Guides all over the world are known for their willingness to help other people." In 1953 the "all over the world" was dropped."

So debating the inclusion or exclusion of a phrase in documents is a tradition.

Today's hot topic on the Internet e-mail lists is that "they" are against "unhealthy traditionalists."

The phrase - an obstacle to changing a program - is found in a table cell in a "Strategic priority" document shared with a Yahoo group on Feb 16, 2008:

"There is an unhealthy devotion to traditions on standards, uniforms and
awards."

Another shares that she saw the phrase as "an unhealthy attachment to tradition" in a PowerPoint she was forced to watch. Later, someone sends out a PowerPoint from an annual meeting where it was held.

Now, a group has ordered shirts that say Unhealthy Traditionalist: Eat 2 Thin Mints and call me in the morning."

I'd prefer to push for the positive: Healthy Traditionalist: Eat 2 Thin Mints and call me in the morning (Can you be healthy eating thin mints?) because I think traditions are healthy.

But then I think debate is healthy and so is change.

"Have the Girl Scouts themselves changed? Have they altered their basic ideas about international friendship and the United Nations?

Nothing of the sort. The Girl Scouts of America was and is a fine organization which still encourages idealism, good citizenship, and international friendship. What happened in 1954 was that the Girl Scouts in the forty-second year of their existence decided it was no longer safe to say so too plainly."

Another section in the article also makes me smile:

"The (1954) pamphlet correcting the new 1953 Handbook was filled with instructions like: -

"Page 86. Change the sentence beginning with Line 2 to read: 'Service is your way of making a contribution to your community." A few months before, it had read: "Service is your way of making this a better world in which to live."

In 2008, we are back to "Girl Scouting builds girls of courage, confidence and character who make the world a better place."

Traditionalists, after all.

What's best? Mashed, baked or hash brown potatoes

Pulling someone's dream into yours or yours into theirs is like dealing with spuds.

I just can't decide which way is best.

Should you strive for mashed potatoes, peeling the skin to see what is inside, cooking each individual piece to the right degree, then throwing them under the mixer with just a bit of milk and butter.

Can you live with lumps? Or do you keep beating until everything, everyone is on the same page.

Or do you leave the skin on, knowing the richness it can provide, and throwing each into the oven to slowly become done. There, a place where you can still identify the individual pieces to be selected and eaten individually

Or is the skin not the issue? Leave it on or leave it off, but dice each potatoe before tossing together in the well-seasoned pan to create a dish that speaks loudly of individuals but draws it's strength from the mixture.

What happens when you take on the chef's role near the end of the project? Past the time of dreaming together and nearer the time of it must be done.

I wonder why i was I supposed to know there were pictures in your head. Or that easels shed pages filled with sketches that explained concepts some believe were magically implanted in my brain.

Did I maneuver the group plan to fit my dream because I was the one willing to use the tools? Did I let the all positive affirmations drown out the collection of no's and maybes.

Yet, now I have enough time in to see the pattern of how some can complete, compete, and/or critique only when the work is almost done. Some need an almost finished structure before they see the possibilities which, of course, means redoing

Quotes of resistance being a part of the story strengthen the one told by my body as the leg starts to wobble and the mind escaped into mush.

I hear again folks telling me chaos is expected, to be prepared for surprises.

Right now I am thinking of skipping the potatoes.

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Finding results not always easy

My journalism background helped me reply to a post on GSUSA's newly launched discussion board.

Girl Scouts elect and send delegates to a National Council meeting every three years. In 2005, many came early to participate in Open Space. There's another Open Space to kick off the meeting this year. Some are asking why repeat it if there's no evidence of results from the 2005 conversations.

That evidence had started being discussed in another thread. Plus there's a video final report that I think shows someone was listening.

And I think in all parts of our lives the only assurance we have that issues we bring up won't be ignored is if we take the responsibility for making sure they are not.

Here's the rest of my reply:

I wasn't there in 2005. But as a "recovering journalist," I know I often was/am frustrated when trying to follow up on the success or failure of a project because:

• No one kept track of what happened after the big campaign, or the community discussions.
  
• Or I couldn't find out who was keeping score
  
• Or that person couldn't share the results
  
• Or the outcomes weren't measurable. For instance, how do you measure influencing a person's thought process?

Do we know if something said at the 2005 Open Space triggered an idea or action months later? Did seeing what happened at Open Space lead to the concepts of Open Space being used to solve another problem?

I ended by saying I hope we hear from folks about the 2005 and 2008 conversations here so we can all share what we know.

Yet, I don't expect many responses because I don't think people connect what was said in 2005 with actions in 2008. I'll base that on years of watching too committees coming up with plans to breathe life into downtowns.
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Did I stumble by asking?

If you think someone is smart, do you ask if they social bookmark?

Or is that intrusion?

Is it better to search through digg, delicious, stumble it etc. on your own?

I don't mine sharing (should I be deleting the ones I am no longer want? Or never go back?)

Quick, I need help.

Even Girl Scouts have stories to tell

My buyout-funded sabbatical is turning into an amazing adventure of story-telling, crowdsourcing and surprises.

Helping to start the discussion board for the Online News Association's convention in September was so simple compared to launching a discussion board for the upcoming convention of the Girl Scouts.


The Girl Scout board is part of an effort called StoryWeaving and it should surprise no one that someone soon posted a question asking what StoryWeaving is anyways.

Here's my answer from there:

"I've asked the woman who is leading the StoryWeaving idea at this convention to also answer but I wanted to share my thoughts as a long-time Girl Scout and "retired" journalist who volunteered to help via the convention web site in late July.

When I first heard the term "StoryWeaving", I thought people would collect stories from Girl Scouts of all ages and then share them at convention, in new trainings, web pages, wikis, etc.

I expected to tell - and hear - stories about times when I saw the guiding principles of Girl Scouts in action ... those times I remember because they keep me in Girl Scouting when I'm neck-deep in the parts of the movement I don't like.

Since then, I've learned that type of story-telling, story-sharing and story-swapping will happen but it is just a part of StoryWeaving.

StoryWeaving is more then "once upon a time." It's real conversations about things that matter to us, the members of the organization. It's using techniques (methods?) to draw out the thinking, the wisdom of the crowds.

StoryWeaving will give us the chance to talk about leadership and the Stewardship Report.

StoryWeaving will let us share ideas about what we think is essential if the Girl Scout organization really is going to be (and be recognized) as the best organization for girls, Another acitivity should get us thinking about what we do next. (That we, by the way is the organization, the councils and the individuals.)

I think StoryWeaving tries to fix what happens at most of the conferences and conventions I go to - the brilliant ideas and best solutions come from conversations that happen in the hallways, the lobby, and over a meal.

I can't (yet) explain all the terms to you - Open Space, World Cafe, Appreciative Interviews, Digital StoryWeaving, etc. But I've already seen how powerful we become by using the wisdom of the crowd.

And I end with what is my biggest surprise: the Discussion Board. I've wanted the membership organization to tap the advice, the wisdom of at least its Internet-using Girl Scouts ever since we first had an AOL home that became a listserv (That's WAGGGS-L, still a listserv, still running - I know because I'm still the moderator.)

Wait until I tell you about arming teenage girls with video cameras or building wikis or ...

Update:Sometimes, I hate the written word because can't see reactions and there are no followup questions. Some saw the above as negative. I was trying to say that maybe this discussion board is a success story from 2005.

The reasons I diid not believe such a board was possible five weeks ago is my experience outside Girl Scouts.

This is the third time in 15 months that I have been involved in helping a non-profit organization start a discussion board. This was the fastest operation.

Even in an all-volunteer organization using free software, it can take months. There are technical, financial, and legal, issues. Plus there are things like what to call it, getting everyone on the same page, training moderators (I can go on)

So yes , there was a a discussion board set up for the proposals. There were plans to seek topics for one of the conversations through the web somehow.

But there was no budget or staff in place for an all-member ConventionTalk board - our own virtual open space

Actions speak. ConventionTalk shows a commitment to listening and a willingness to using technology

(a public thankyou to the WAGGGS-L listserv beta-testers,, and GSUSA staff and volunteers who moved at the speed of light to launch this)
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