She Thinks

I’ve been a good boss for most of my career…but I was really lousy at it when I first started.

My first chance to step into a supervisory role was when I worked at the Jewish Community Center in Denver as their Children and Youth Director.  I was in my early twenties…and I knew nothing about being a boss.

During the school year I ran children’s programs for kids in elementary school.  Programs like vacation camps, before & after school programs and specialized classes like woodworking, and craft making on weekends.    I had a small staff to actually teach/supervise kids in these programs (although I learned how to teach kids to build a mean birdhouse) but most of my responsibilities focused on the administrative side of the department.  I wasn’t really anyone’s boss for these programs…I was more like a coordinator who ran around setting up rooms, printing out worksheets and making sure supplies were on hand.

During the summer months however, I was in charge of a 25 acre summer day camp, complete with a full swimming program, horseback riding, arts & crafts, music and tons of sports activities….and I had to supervise about 40 young college-aged staff who were counselors, wranglers, and program specialists for more than 200 campers.

It was during these summers that I discovered I knew nothing about being a boss.  I could fill out P.O’s (purchase orders), work with the maintenance staff to get the facility in order, make sure we had all of the supplies we needed, and even figure out how to “lease” over 2 dozen horses for the season…but I had no idea what it meant to supervise or lead my staff through the course of a summer camp program.

I was terrible.

I thought the word “boss” meant that I had to “boss” everyone around!  I yelled incessantly.   I yelled at my staff, and I’m embarrassed to say…I also yelled at the kids.

I went through the summer yelling and bossing, and basically bullying everyone around to get them to do what I thought should be done.

I had no idea what it meant to actually be a boss…let alone, a good one.

And then I went to graduate school.  I think it was there that I first began to learn new and effective ways to communicate.  But it wasn’t until I left the JCC and started my own company and started to hire my own employees…that I started to really understand what it meant to be a boss.

I still had no idea what it meant to be a good boss…but at least I figured out that it wasn’t about yelling and bullying people to get what I wanted.

It was about leadership.  About inspiring people to join me in whatever work needed to be done.

I realized after about a trillion mistakes, that being a boss wasn’t about proving that I was in charge.  It was about leading the charge.

And that took time to learn.

It’s not something that I learned in graduate school however, because they don’t teach leadership in school.  It was something I had to learn on my own and grow into overtime.

Moral of the story

Maybe we should teach leadership in school so that there will be a lot more good bosses out there.

2^nd moral of the story

Maybe that’s something I should try to do at some point in the future…

I like purses.

I have a lot of them.

Different shapes.  Different colors.  And…different sizes.

They make me happy.

But I must admit I tend to gravitate toward larger bags.

For me…size does matter (you knew it had to show up somewhere in this one).

I’m not sure why.  It’s not like I put more in a large bag than any other bag (the proverbial “evening” bag being the exception since you’re lucky to fit a lipstick and license in those).

I put the same stuff in every purse that I assume other women put in theirs.  Wallet, checkbook, phone, lip stick(s), Advil bottle (filled with a variety of pain relieving substances), pen, and reading glasses.

Oh…and tissues, card holder (with my She Thinks business cards), tic tacs and loose change of course.

And sometimes my e-reader.  (You never know when you’ll have the chance to finish a chapter.)

And a sweater or scarf.  (You never know when you might get chilled.)

I think a big purse makes me feel secure.  Like I have options.

Ya know…the option to carry more stuff should I have the need to pick stuff up and carry it somewhere.

Maybe it’s a girl thing.

Or a mom thing (God knows, we moms seem to carry a lot of stuff).

But there are women out there who use really small bags and seem to have everything they need in them.

I admire that.  I couldn’t do it.  But I admire them for it (it makes me think they must be VERY organized and efficient).

The other day someone (a guy) saw me with one of my big purses slung over my shoulder and asked me if I always carried my “luggage” around with me.

I wasn’t offended.  Guys don’t understand big purses.  They’re intimidated by them.  Like they’re scare of ‘em (or they’re scared of what they might find in them).

How many times have you heard a guy say “what do you carry in that thing?”

As if we carried a bunch of deep dark scary stuff like poisons or snakes or bags and bags of feminine hygiene products that we’re ready to whip out in public at any time.

But the bag in question wasn’t that big.  It was a hobo bag and it was just a bit stretched out from months of swinging it from my shoulder to the floor, or over into the backseat of the car, or onto the end of the banister where it lives when I’m at home.

But the comment did give me reason to take a good hard look at what had become my “go to bag”…and I was forced to admit that it did look BIG.

Or rather…long.   Months of daily use and abuse had caused it to look more like a woven laundry sack (albeit with a nice leather strap and matching leather bottom) than a stylish shoulder bag.

Not what I was going for.

Apparently I had become too lazy to change my bag and I had entered into a purse rut.

Normally, I love to change my purses to go with my outfits.   It’s part of the game of mixing and matching different colors and textures to make a full outfit, with purses adding another piece to the puzzle.

But over the course of the winter I seem to have ignored all the other bags lining the top shelves of my closet…and my one “go to bag” was obviously now showing the worse for wear.

I’m so embarrassed.

I guess I have no choice but to seek out one of the many big purses I have at the top of my closet, so I have the option to fill it with lots more stuff.

I need to preface this whole post with the disclaimer that I am not a big reader.  Ally is a voracious reader…but I’m not.  I love to read when I travel…or at the beach…or on a rainy/snowy Sunday with a hot cup of French vanilla coffee by my side.  But I don’t read every day.

It takes a really good story to get me hooked on a book, and then once I’m hooked, I don’t put it down.

So when I do think about reading a book…I’m totally drawn to fiction, as I love a good story.

Not that true life can’t be turned into a good story, but I guess I prefer the made-up version of life when I curl up with a book.

Interestingly – even though I’m a sporadic reader – I’m particularly drawn to novels in a series.  I guess I like to know that when I start a book, I’ll be able to follow the characters through different times, places and experiences…taking multiple books to complete the saga.

(Or maybe I’m just lazy and like the idea of having my next few books all laid out for me)

And I’m not at all particular about the genre of the books/series I choose.  In fact…I’ve read and totally enjoyed…

• “Young adult” fiction like The Hunger Games series and The Twilight books;
• Books that deal with espionage, terrorism and political intrigue like The Bourne series, Vince Flynn’s series featuring the super good guy assassin Mitch Rapp and anything by David Baldacci;
• Stories about prehistoric times like Jean Auel’s the Earth’s Children series (Ally and I just went to a book signing last week and heard the author talk about her latest book and each got a signed copy!);
• Quirky stories about weird people in Sweden (yep…I got hooked on the whole Girl with the Dragon Tattoo series);
• And most recently, a story about a woman who steps through a group of large rocks in the 1940’s only to get sent back in time to Scotland in the 1700’s where she falls in love with a hunk of a Scottish man who rescues her about 20 times from danger in the first two books alone (the Outlander series)!  LOVING IT!

I think I like historical novels a lot…but I can’t seem to get through a nonfiction book about a historical figure or event.   I’ve tried to read about several of our Presidents, various wars, and even the civil rights movement.  But honestly…I haven’t finished any of them.

I love to read stories about strong and interesting women, but when I’ve tried to read about real women (who I thought were role models) like Hillary Clinton or Jane Fonda, I found that I don’t really care all that much about their lives once I got into their books.  They’re still role models…but just not as authors.

I’ve tried to read about how to better my health, my mind and my body…but I lose interest quickly and end up sitting in front of the TV eating a big ham and cheese sandwich.

But oddly enough, I like to read cookbooks.   I know it sounds silly…but I can read through an entire cookbook, learning different techniques, food and spice combinations and serving ideas, and walk away feeling totally fulfilled…but not feeling like I just read a book.

Weird.

So I guess I do like some types of non-fiction.

And as I think about it…I think I read more than I think I read.

So I guess I’ll go finish up the 2^nd book in the Outlander series right now.  I’ve already got the next two in the series waiting for me.