Re-Starts and Re-Runs

As it has the past 9 years that I have attended, my family at the National School Public Relations Association put on an incredible networking-PR learning-healing-refreshtastic annual seminar this summer in Nashville and I almost didn't go.

As you may know if you've read some past posts, I was trying out a few things here in Guate and while I was continuing my school PR work for several US clients, I just wasn't sure it made financial sense for me to go. And then the universe, as it often does if you let it, stepped in. My session for my first 2 hour workshop on communication planning got accepted (kind of a big deal), and a couple friends stepped in with offers of shared hotel rooms and team discount registrations.

My session was first thing Monday 8 a.m. and it got off to a little bit of shaky start...I had tested my mic and everything else (something I've done every year since a fiasco presentation at CAPIO.) Then the techies stopped by to check my work and offered to replace my mic batteries to make sure they lasted the full two hours. My bestie Kate had offered to be my right hand during the session and the two of us started joking that now that everything was set up, no one would probably show up in my room set up for 200. We even started making practical plans for how much more interactive things could be if we had as few as five people come.

Then 20 minutes before the presentation, they started filing in...and in...and in. Be careful for what you wish for, right? After an introduction that sounded like it was about some other lady living some other life, I got up and hoped I could deliver on what was being promised the now close to 200 folks. As I started to speak, I saw lots of confusion, head shaking and a couple people at my nearest table signaling for me to come over. A few quick seconds later, the mic actually turned on and so did I.

As I prepared for the session, I wasn't sure about taking up a full 2 hours, but it went so fast! When you are doing what you love, what you know in your heart you were meant to do, when you feel like you are having real IMPACT and are in the flow, time stops. I could have stayed there with folks all day talking about research, analysis, strategies and evaluation....my inner data geek planner goddess was in heaven.

Afterwards I realized something....I hadn't felt that way very often lately.

As the song goes, I need to be needed. And I set about the rest of the seminar asking my super smart PR peeps about different business models that would meet my needs - to stay based in Guatemala with my hubby but give me the flexibility to jump in and help folks that need me. My remote consulting work, the envy of people who wish they could travel like us, would continue but I needed more. I needed an occasional jolt of impact, where I would travel to a client and work intensely with them either because they had a gap in their PR office due to family leave or a transition or for a short-term project.

The response from my colleagues has been tremendous and I can't believe I never thought of it before.

Lucky for me, my man is always my biggest supporter and so here we are, launching SchoolPRPro. (Can you believe I got that domain? Me neither!!)

And, contrary to the way I fell into business three years ago, this time I am following my own PR planning advice. I am writing a comprehensive plan, adding several new marketing tools and even starting with a quick survey to create a baseline that I can track each year.

So, if you have a moment, I have a few things to ask that will really help me:

• Take my 6 question survey
• Check out my fancy new site (schoolprpro.com) that I created in a few days with Wix
• Share the site with anyone you think might be interested in my new services
• If youŕe interested in Wix, do it through this link so I can get credit
• Sign up for my new email updates through the front page of my site- only once or twice a month, a link and summary of the latest, greatest education and PR related stuff
• Check out this super cute pic of the new kitty, Charlie, we got to hang out with Osa
  

• Continue sending me your good wishes, it's obviously working ;-)

Oh, and if youŕe still not tired about hearing about my crazy life or missed it the first time, our move to Guatemala is already re-run material on House Hunters International. It airs again August 13th and 14th.

Peace and love!
t

PS - Sac peeps, I'll be back in town soon and will share the dates when I have them.

To my Uncle with Love

My crazy, artistic, ultra liberal cynical Uncle Roger is dying.

My earliest memory of him is in Palm Springs. He visited us driving his old VW bus and parked it on the side of our apartment building and slept there instead of our couch. He also ate his own food, which I thought was really strange. In fact, when I went out to the bus while he was standing there in his long hair and suede shirt making his breakfast of chicken livers and eggs, I thought the whole place smelled funny. But I was intrigued by this strange man that was my dad's brother and have been ever since.

I remember him again during my early high school years in Sacramento. Growing up with dad and his strong conservative views (back then), I was walking the American Dream straight and narrow. Studying hard, getting straight As, and super excited about my new job at McDonald's that I hoped would earn me a new stereo within my first couple paychecks. Rather than the typical grown up response I was getting from the folks in my blue collar neighborhood, my visiting uncle sarcastically congratulated me on becoming a ¨good little capitalist¨ which started political argument #4,587 between he and dad.

The summer after high school my best friend and I decided to take a road trip out to Santa Cruz and decided to stay with Uncle Roger in the mountains outside of town. For a couple of girls who grew up in North Highlands, nothing could have prepared us for what to expect. The house appeared to be mounds of cement interspersed with colorful glass bottles, broken ceramic pieces and curious little knick knacks just pushed into the walls. According to my memory of more than 20 years ago, Uncle Roger told me it was built by circus gypsies. Inside, there were far more books than furniture and a strong pachouli smell. I remember they offered us some pizza, which was not like anything I ever saw at Dominoes. I remember feeling some combination of pride/embarrassment that my family was soooo weird.

When it was time to go away to college, I went to University of the Pacific because frankly, they were offering me the best financial deal and although only an hour down the road, hardly anyone from my neighborhood had ever gone there and at that point in my life I desperately wanted to be different. That's probably what made me choose to bring the strange candle Uncle Roger gave me as a graduation gift. It had an Asian drawing on it and the translation read, ¨It's Okay to Wake up Laughing.¨ It's one of the few things that I've taken with me throughout the years and it has helped me through more crisis than I can remember. It's an excellent reminder not to take myself too seriously.

One of of my favorite times with Uncle Roger was him in his playwright glory. He was always very interested in dad's experience in Vietnam and at one point wrote a play about it. If I'm honest, I'll have to admit that when I saw it I was too young to fully appreciate the deeper meaning that I'm sure it was written to convey. What I remember is the awe I felt at seeing these people moving around the stage, saying the words my uncle put to paper. What I remember is my uncle's stage presence as actor-director and the way he was larger than life and demanded all the attention in the room. What I remember is that after the play while the cast was backstage, word spread that I was in fact the niece of the writer and the daughter of the soldier the play was based on and all these young people crowded around me asking questions about what I thought was my pretty mundane family.  It was really cool to see the admiration everyone had for Roger and see the love and light in his personality shine as he came out to hold court.

That's what I'll be thinking about, my dear uncle as I send you my love and wish I could be there to kiss your cheek and look into those beautiful eyes one last time. Thank you for the magic you brought to our lives, to forcing us to see the uncomfortable and question the unfair. Thank you for knowing your truth was more important than playing nice and getting along. I adore you and knowing you has changed me for the better.

And although I know you don't believe in it, I hope you are wrong about heaven, and you end up in a crazy wonderful place with your wife, loads of plays to write and act in and all the chocolate you can eat.