Archive for the ‘NYC life’ Category

Your Loss was My Gain.

Monday, October 15th, 2007

‘Tis the season to remember what was once the heart of the baseball world here in New York City. No, not the Yankees. The Brooklyn Dodgers. It was 50 years ago that the Bums left the area and moved to warmer climes. Specifically, my hometown of Los Angeles.

Listening to people who call in to WFAN, the sports talk radio show in NYC, I feel as if the move happened yesterday the caller’s pain sounds so raw. Reading stories like, “Exorcising the Dodgers: 50 years ago, the Dodgers left Ebbets Field for Los Angeles. Isn’t it time their ghosts left, too?” in New York Magazine is representative of the hold the team still has on the hearts and minds of the faithful.

I was close to making my first call to WFAN to say that, “Your loss was my gain.” I was a Dodgers fan at a young age. A Los Angeles Dodgers fan. My father made me and my sisters into loyal followers of the team. I’m glad for it. The team built relationships and started conversations within my family and also with neighbors in my changing neighborhood near Watts – conversations that happened before and continued after the riots of 1965.

Pop and Mom had five boys then produced four girls – of which I’m the youngest. The boys all played sports of one kind or another. The girls a little – but we made up for that by watching not just baseball in person plus football and basketball games on TV with Pop. It wasn’t just that Pop wanted to go to the games and needed company. That was part of it. It was also, though, part of our training in life to go with him. There was something about his observations of the players and the strategy of walking someone intentionally that has stuck with me. Watching my sister Lou fill-in the scorecard then doing it myself to record the statistics of achievement. Cheering when the bugle sounded whether the Dodgers were winning or losing; we did it because they were the home team.

There were times when it wasn’t fun. Like watching a one or no-hit game. Sandy Koufax and Don Drysdale were great pitchers who could finesse a baseball to get it right where they wanted it. Watching got fun when Maury Wills tested the pitcher with a long lead from first base and then proceeded to slide into second, looking up to see if he could keep on going. Don, Maury, and Duke Snider were some of the players whose pictures hung on our bedroom wall. A closer look at our favorite players since our usual spot in Chavez Ravine was high up – the cheap seats – right behind home base. It hadn’t been any closer in the Coliseum where we first saw the Dodgers play.

As a leader, I’ve grown to appreciate the lessons I got from attending games with Pop, grateful that he didn’t write us off as just girls who wouldn’t be interested. There was another thing about sports that was important. It gave us a reason to go out and do something with Pop, to relate to him in new ways. Also, the girls used baseball as an excuse to travel. The four girls packed our Dodger blue sweaters and grey skirts then drove up to San Francisco to cheer our home team on in front of the other New York deserters – the Giants.

One of my nieces lives in Northern California and is a serious San Francisco 49ers football fan. In 2004, she said she wanted to come to New York to see her team play the New York Jets. Okay. The Jets won. That was fun. The next year, I went out to her stadium to watch the New York Giants beat the 49ers. Last December I volunteered my leadership services in New Orleans and that weekend the Saints were playing the 49ers. Yup! She was there with me – staying until the very last second of the game, risking missing her flight home even though her team couldn’t catch up. Next week, the 49ers are playing the Giants. My niece flies in on Saturday and leaves on Monday.

I’m looking forward to watching a game with her. It’s like watching a game with Pop. New Yorkers, thank you for parting with the Dodgers. Your loss was my gain. The gain of a gift that keeps on giving in new and delightful ways.

My One Good Nerve

Monday, July 30th, 2007

According to the Urban Dictionary, the term my last good nerve means, “The final point of remaining calm.”

Working as a leader you no doubt have found your own last good nerve on a few occasions. If you’ve not experienced your last good nerve, I have a suggestion for you: undertake a renovation of your home and find out that the work estimated to be done in three months is now dragging out to five months.

The term last good nerve came to me to describe my feelings when having to speak with my contractor about the status of projects and my move in date. I thought “My Last Good Nerve” was the title of Ruby Dee’s one-woman show I saw in 1998 at Hunter College. Ms. Dee, wife of the late Ossie Davis, named her show, My One Good Nerve, the same as her book of that title.

By Friday of last week, my one and last good nerve was stretched to the point of disintegration! I felt depleted of patience, creativity, and energy (and of course money but that’s a different entry). The master bathroom alone was just cause. The radiator looked ugly, too big and not at all in the style of my glass tiled walls. The gorgeous glass wall tiles cracked on one wall and another wall caught the infection when the shower curtain rod holder was installed. The contractor cut a “U” in the second drawer of the vanity so it could fit around pipe; when I opened the drawer, it was obvious anything put in there would fall out.

My one and last good nerve gave way when I heard that it would be two more weeks until I could move in — necessitating what would be my fifth move during this process. What a way to end a week!

Saturday morning as scheduled, however, I met a close friend, her husband, and six year old twins for a tour of the apartment that they hadn’t seen since the reno started. “Oh, Leigh, this is beautiful.” “Wow, this is great!” The children’s eyes were wide with the transformation.

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My close friend loved the radiator, thought it fit perfectly. Her husband admired the glass tiles and said, “Cracks can be fixed.” “Leigh, this vanity is the best part of the bathroom. I love it,” my friend said touching the drawers and admiring the color in between.

What did I learn from this timely visit? Obviously, the radiator can be boxed in, the glass tiles replaced, the “U” in the vanity finished. My leadership lesson, however, was that fresh eyes can bring new perspectives to issues.

Plus, I know now that I will have a place to stay thanks to another good friend and that in two weeks my one good nerve can relax as I settle into my new home.

 

Moving from Your Core

Thursday, July 26th, 2007

The Pilates Method of physical exercise agrees with me. I started attending Pilates classes in 2003 and have continued to take two or three or more classes a week because I’ve experienced better posture, fewer knee problems, and stronger abdominals.

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The key in Pilates is moving from your core – that group of abdominal muscles that hold you up and help everything else work efficiency. I’ve enjoyed moving from my core so much that last year I decided that teaching Pilates was a good occupation for when I retire (which is still a long way away!) and I started taking one-on-one classes that would lead to certification in the future.

Funny, how in a New York minute things change. In a heartbeat I moved from student to leader of a Pilates class at the Jewish Community Center (JCC) near where I live. How I got to be a leader – now co-leader since Wendy Schwartz is in front of the class with me – is a lesson for those seeking ways to step into a leadership position outside or inside of the workplace.

In essence, I thought creatively, came up with a plan, and executed that with the help of others.

Our long-time Pilates instructor on Tuesday morning at 7:00 a.m. left in the winter and by late June there was still no permanent replacement for her. The fitness director found someone to fill the slot but that instructor wouldn’t be able to begin until September. The director was considering cancelling the class for the summer.

An idea came into my head – based on a previous experience. A couple of weeks earlier, a Sunday morning Pilates instructor didn’t show up on time for her 9:00 a.m. class. Wendy and I co-led the class until the instructor arrived. Wendy and I got good feedback from our peers – and encouragement that we should teach sometime.

A short while later when the director suggested she might “cancel” the Tuesday morning class, I went into action. I wrote a note to the director and asked her if she would consider a Peer Pilates class for the 7:00 slot. The director of course had to consider the implications and ran the idea by her colleagues at the gym. They all liked that I thought outside the box and that we could truly put ‘community’ in the JCC fitness schedule.

I led the class for the first session on July 3 when lots of our Pilates Pals showed up to demonstrate their support for the idea. Wendy and I have been co-leading since then – and now have a slot on Thursday mornings that could become a regular time for us in the fall.

The lesson from all this: if you love something and want to see it remain, put some energy into making that happen.

P.S. This picture of me was taken by my Pilates Pal Dan. When another Pilates instructor left the JCC in 2006, her students got dressed up and created a booklet called, “Pilates the Pals’ Way: Helpful Hints So You, Too, Can Look Like Us After Classes With Celina.” The other pictures from the book will not be published for public viewing!

Are you a teacher?

Tuesday, July 24th, 2007

carla-harris.JPG“Are you a teacher?” a woman who was sitting on the sidewalk hollered at me.

“Are you a teacher?” the cashier at West Side Supermarket asked me politely.

Is my role in life so apparent that complete strangers are able to pinpoint what I do for a living?

I wanted to be a teacher since I was seven. Today I do what a teacher does: translate and impart knowledge for leaders to learn and apply to their own careers.

In that capacity, I want to introduce you to the philosophy of Carla A. Harris, managing director, head of Equity Private Placements, Financial Sponsors and Retail Capital Markets Coverage for Global Capital Markets at Morgan Stanley in New York. Here’s a link to an article about her in the Harvard Gazette.

I first heard Carla speak at the “Women on Wall Street Conference” in 2005 and was taken by her passionate energy to share with others her tips for success. Last week I attended the Women’s World Banking Women’s Leadership Conference luncheon where Carla was one of the panelists. Carla’s energy was still at a high level when, like an effective teacher, she imparted her tips for career success or as she calls them, “Carla’s Pearls”:

1. Authenticity. The power really is you. Be true to yourself. Somewhere along the way you started patterning yourself along someone else’s style. Be the best at being you.

2. Perception is the co-pilot for reality. You can train people to think about you in a certain way. Think of three adjectives you want others to use about you when you are not in the room. Start using those adjectives about yourself. In another month or so, you’ll hear others use those adjectives when talking about you.

3. Find a mentor and a sponsor. A mentor is someone who will give you the good, the bad, and the ugly. A sponsor is a passionate advocate who “carries your papers for you” – they are the ones who fight for you when you are not in the room such as at a performance review.

4. Be willing to take risks. Be willing to take risks. Be willing to take risks. Remember: FEAR is False Evidence of things Appearing Real.

5. Balance. Balance. Balance. What’s fueling your professional platform? Keep that on you calendar and also make time to give back to others.

You can read a lot more about Carla’s accomplishments and how she lives the words of her “Pearls” by clicking here and here. You can also go to Amazon to check out the CDs she has recorded.

Wanting to be heard.

Monday, July 16th, 2007

110-subway-station.JPG“You’re a woman. Someone hits my sister, I’m going to f*(# him up.”

These were the first words spoken to me as I walked down Broadway at 5:30 a.m. to the 110th Street subway station on Manhattan’s Upper West Side on a Tuesday morning. The man who spoke them – who was dressed nicely and held a paper coffee cup in his hand – looked as though he had spent a night drinking non-caffeine beverages. After walking in my direction, he veered off and continued walking, not pausing for a response from me.

Two days earlier, I had been seated on a bench below ground in the subway station waiting for the #1 train at 7:30 a.m. A woman at the other end of the bench stood up and asked me, “Is my skirt okay?” pointing to the back where she might have sat in some unknown substances left behind by previous sitters. “It looks fine,” I said, wondering if she wanted a comment on the cleanliness or the style. “Think this toothpaste is good?” she next asked pulling out a travel tube of Colgate from her purse. “Fine,” I said again. “What do you use?” she inquired. “Aquafresh,” I replied to the amazement of a man who sat between us and obviously wanted nothing to do with this needy person who continued with more questions. Finally when she asked, “Should I go to church or visit my mom?” I suggested church first as that would provide her a community to which she could ask her questions.

Some of us want to share information. And some of us want to ask questions.

That’s why I started a blog. Working to Be a Leader is my informal chronicle of observations, thoughts, and advice on how to level the leadership playing field. I get to share information here in a more casual format than my newsletter Dear Leader or on my website www.ltr-nyc.com.

And you get to share your thoughts as well. Or ask a question – or many of them.

Right now you’re probably wondering, “Why was Leigh up so early?” and “Why she at 110th Street when she lives in the 70’s?” As I’ll do with all your questions, I’ll answer them: 1) I was sticking to my usual routine of going to the gym at the beginning of my day, and 2) I was staying in temporary housing while renovation work on my apartment was being done.

Looking forward to hearing from you and reading your posts.