To my Raytheon Colleagues,

When I left Starlight Children’s Foundation, a global children’s charity supporting chronically ill and hospitalized children, I begged the Universe…please I don’t want to work for a non-profit again.
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My entire career had been in service to others through cause-based campaigns. I think it’s because I am keenly aware of how lucky I am in life. I have had it good. I have had it easy. And I feel a certain measure of guilt for my luck. So early on I committed my work to help the environment, or help people get organ transplants or help hospitalized kids smile.

I gave all of myself to my work. My time and talent. My passion. My work defined me. People knew me as part of what I did. And I worked hard to give back for the all luck I felt like I didn’t truly deserve.

Then I had medical challenges of my own and I didn’t want to give all of me anymore. I wanted a job that was just a job, a paycheck and a good one, to support my family comfortably. I wanted a job I could leave at the end of the day and it didn’t follow me home begging for my thoughts, demanding my time after the kids went to bed. I wanted to abandon the non-profit world. 

But I kept applying for non-profit jobs, and getting interviews, because that was all I knew how to do. All I knew how to do was to communicate for a cause. Even so, I kept clear my call to abandon those causes and the universe listened. Out of the blue a recruiter phoned. He saw my resume on Career Builder. He had a position for content manager at Raytheon, was I interested? I didn’t know what a content manager was, or what Raytheon was, but I never said no to an interview.

After I met the team in El Segundo I stood by my car, which looked like it was in long-term parking at LAX. This place was immense. It was completely different. It was exactly what I wanted. I turned to the sky and begged, please! Please! I want to be here. So the job was mine. A one-year contract in internal communications at Raytheon Space and Airborne Systems.

Now the year is over and the contract ends. And I am thankful that the universe heeded my call. In a very short time I learned invaluable lessons from this foray into a Fortune 500.

I learned that even in a $6 billion enterprise with 14,000 employees at 7 sites across the country, you get things done by knowing who can help you get them done. In my first week I was asked to set up a road show for a VP. I expected some sort of online system to reserve rooms at our multiple facilities and quickly learned that the system is to call the person at the site who can reserve the room for you. Need something in Forest, Mississippi? Call Kim. She will get you what you need. And you only know to call Kim because someone told you to call her.

I learned that because these relationships are key to getting things done, individuals are much more than cogs in a behemoth wheel. People are the engines, the drivers, the spark, the heart and soul. The importance of the individual seemed obvious in my tiny charities, but here it struck me as a universal and undeniable truth. The heart of a company is always its people.

I learned how important it is to keep employees inspired and connected to the mission of a company. If people are the heart, the mission is the oxygen to keep it beating strong.

At a non-profit you are never not connected to the mission. You are driven by mission. You are battered and abused by mission. You are asked to give everything of yourself for the mission. Save the earth. Save lives. You know exactly why you are doing what you are doing, even when what you are doing isn’t all that clear. The why is everything. The why keeps you balanced when the every-day insanity of work feels like it might crush your very soul. Your soul is protected, for the most part, by the mission.

I learned the impacts of a disconnect to mission.

I learned this disconnect intensifies when a company is a tapestry of former brands that at one time had their own mission and their own employees and their own, distinct, beating heart.

I learned that the disconnect can be long-lasting.

I learned that disconnect is possible even if the new mission is powerful and good.

I learned that a company needs to actively invest in ways, big and small and authentically, to connect to all the little hearts and inspire them into the bigger whole.

I learned that communication needs to give oxygen.

And I finally learned why I had worked for all those causes for all those years: to learn how to give oxygen wherever I go. 

Raytheon’s mission is to make the world a safer place. It’s a mission befitting a cause-based organization. It’s a mission that inspires. This $36 billion global powerhouse in the aerospace industry is working every day to create eye-watering technology that makes sure the men and women out there right now serving in the cloth of our nation have a damn good chance of coming home to their country and to their families. That is something to get behind.

And we give to Veterans groups, and we invest in STEM to educate the next generation of engineers, and we believe in diversity and we do it all sustainably. That’s good stuff. That is a mission that could protect your soul from the every-day insanity of work, for the most part.

So as the heart of this company, keep the mission close. Tap into it, engage with it, breathe it in and exhale it out. It’s not up to the “leaders” or your supervisors or the board of directors or shareholders to keep you connected to the mission and be your oxygen, it’s everyone’s job.
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Because you are the heart, so beat strong. 

 On Halloween night I had an epiphany: I realized why I live in Los Angeles.
 
There are many, many times when I wonder why I live here. Sitting in traffic, inching home for an hour and a half, I wonder. Flipping through the Real Estate section looking at prices of homes, I wonder. Making a decent salary and yet feeling like we are just holding on, I wonder. Aging in a town of agelessness, I wonder.
 
The wondering is bond amongst Los Angelenos. When I was 18 I vowed never to return to this town and chose a college multiple time zones away, but life led me back. Friends who moved wonder critically how the rest of us remain. Friends who here spend at least part of their day wondering if they should stay. The wondering is so prolific that the LA Times ran an Op-Ed on why.
 
Recently my husband and I walked around the Silver Lake reservoir hand in hand wondering out loud together where else we could go. We discussed the ten most livable cities we had seen in a Facebook post. But he doesn’t want to move back to the south, and I don’t want to be cold and neither of us wants to be in a small town. So we stay in L.A., because this is where our life is.
 
I didn’t expect to have my wondering answered so wholly and profoundly on Halloween night in an old downtown wherehouse near the 6th Street bridge. But it happened. Surrounded by costumed Los Angelenos dancing together to a great D.J. I understood: this is why. This exquisite level of creativity is why I live in L.A.
 
On Halloween night these creatives came together to dance in costumes crafted with care, engineered and executed expertly. Every person brought all of themselves to their work.
 
The sequence goldfish, both elegant and whimsical. The anglerfish headpiece with working light masterfully constructed from wood. The six-foot tall Marie Antoinette, with coiffed white wig, brocade dress and ruffles, revealing her dedication to detail. Poison Ivy, stunning…and a man. Even the pimp looked elevated.
 
These inventive souls came to Los Angeles to create. Drawn from locations around the world, they joined this city of dreamers and doers to bring ideas to life. To be themselves and invent themselves. To compose something wonderful and whimsical. They didn’t come to concoct costumes, of course. But costumes  revealed to me powerfully and profoundly the reason why we are all here…because L.A. is a place to create.
 
So while I sit in traffic I vow to create more stories. While I rent a house I can afford I promise to explore more exhibits. As I age I commit to show the next generation what a graceful native looks like.
 
And the next time you get to wondering why you are here, breathe deep and devise. Fabricate, originate and bring something new into existence.

I went home from the hospital without a name. No na-me as my mom says.

It isn’t as if my parents weren’t ready for a child, they were, and they had a boy’s name all picked out: Daymond Kenneth after my father and grandfather. But the girl’s name was more…elusive.
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They considered Alexis, after the small town in Illinois where my father grew up, but they settled on Clara. Clara was my great-grandmother’s name on both my mother and father’s side. My mother’s grandmother raised her so not only was it a family name but it had special meaning and significance for my mom.

In the hospital the nurses did not like the name Clara. Clara? They would ask with their faces twisted in disgust. This was the era of Jennifer and Michelle. Clara was too old-fashioned.

My mother could have ignored the nurses, but she couldn’t ignore ME.

As the story goes, every time my mother called me Clara…I cried. Every time. My darling Clara she would coo…and I would burst into tears, protesting the name. My parents realized they couldn’t call me Clara, but they had to take me home, so I went home No Na-me.

When my parents lived in San Francisico they had friends who loved Yosemite. These friends would camp and hike there and always said, if we have a daughter we will name her Tenaya.
The name Tenaya stuck with my parents and finally they called their friends to ask if they could steal the name. We have an infant daughter here without a name, they said, can we call her Tenaya? Their friends said yes. That couple ended up having two boys so they never would have used the name, and I got to be Tenaya.

Now, to be honest, I did not love the name Tenaya when I was a child. It was hard to pronounce and remember. Every time my mom made an appointment for me over the phone she would say: her name is Tenaya, it rhymes with papaya, T-E-N-A-Y-A. Tenaya.

She said it so often I thought that whole thing was my name. As a toddler people would ask, what is your name little girl?  I would dutifully reply dutifully, my name is Tenaya. It rhymes with papaya. T-E-N-A-Y-A. Tenaya.

But when I played dress up and princess I would choose Sarah or Tracy, those where the names I preferred.

It wasn’t until my parents started taking me to Yosemite that I really understood what an amazing name Tenaya really is. Not only is it a Lake in Yosemite National Park, Tenaya is the last chief of the Yosemite tribe.

When the white men came into Yosemite Valley led by Major Savage, and that was his name, it was Tenaya who resisted them and worked to keep his tribe in the valley. But Major Savage was a bad man and kidnapped Tenaya’s sons. To make sure no harm came to his sons Tenaya retreated and kept his tribe together as they moved to Mono Lake where his mother was from. Now there is a lake, creak, canyon and peak named Tenaya.

Every summer I take my kids to Yosemite. We hike and ride bikes and float down the Merced, all the things I loved doing as a kid. I get to share Yosemite with them and it is still very much my happy place.

My name has defined who I am. I am an environmentalist, like the chief. I strive to build community, just as Tenaya worked to keep his tribe together. I am a communicator, and Tenaya was too, calling his people together in celebration from the very top of Half Dome.

So I think I knew what I was doing as an infant. I protested the name Clara because I was not a Clara. I am, and am honored to be, Tenaya.

I want history to take note. I want this year to be noted for all time as the year environmentalists threw down the gauntlet. The year they got organized. The year they kept pace with big oil on campaign spending. The year we won.

It might not look that way right now and devout climate deniers are going to take very powerful positions after this election.  But I still see a story of hope. I only ever see a story of hope. It’s how I stay alive.

Don’t get me wrong, I am heartbroken and deep down, if I let myself feel it, I am terrified. Terrified about how far Republicans will go to repeal environmental regulations on oil and coal when taxing carbon is the one thing we need to do right now to holistically and dramatically decrease carbon emission. Terrified of crazy right wing tactics and how they twist the truth. I get what’s at stake. Environmentalists have already scared me into signing online petitions with promises of the horror that will come from Mitch McConnell's anti-environmental agenda. 

But you know what? Screw that. Screw @bradplumer his totally dismal view on this midterm election and the dour title of his article: The biggest loser in this election is the climate.  You know what @bradplumer climate did become a defining issue. From marches on Washington to candidate support, environmentalists got together this year around a common message and invested financially and significantly in this election. We got candidates to speak, in public, about a totally divisive issue. We didn’t #WinOnClimate, completely. But we had a hashtag and that counts for something. Seriously. People identified as a #climatevoter. Candidates engaged people around this issue. They made public statements about a subject that might very well not get them elected, and they did it anyway because this is the year environmentalists threw down the gauntlet. So whether they won or not is not the point. This year, environmentalists took a stand and politicians stood with them, and that deserves a nod in history.

And of course candidates were defeated. I don’t think we are all shocked that environmentalist money didn’t beat out big oil money. Plus, according to polls people keep posting, part of this country doesn’t even believe climate change exists.

But you know what I think? I think people who “deny” climate change are just scared. They are scared to believe climate change is real and they should be because we have made it sound very, very, very scary. Like the biggest, scariest most terrifying thing you could ever imagine. Worse than any destruction Hollywood has put on screen. I mean, we have told everyone it is the end of the world as we know it. And that is scary stuff.

Then there are those nice old white guys who tell these scared people, “no way, you don’t need to believe all that crazy talk. Those kooky environmentalists just want to destroy the economy and destroy America.” So people are like, “cool, whew. Because that s*&% is freaky. Good to know they are just un-American.”

But we know the truth. 

As @bradplumer concludes in his gloomy piece, this election “means that if anything's going to change, it may have to happen outside Congress.” That's right @bradplumer. That is exactly what this election shows us. It is a point that was actually driven home in this midterm by, of all people, the stoners of America. Are they are waiting on Congress? Hell-to-the-no. They are clear that old white guys in deep red states are never going legalize pot. They know they have to go around those old dudes.

So here we go. Keeping watch, of course, on Mitch and Oklahoma Senator James Inhofe, next chair of the Senate Environment and Public Works Committee, and others. Signing online petitions telling Congress what we want and what we don’t. Shining a spotlight on the crazy shenanigans this bunch is going to pull.

We could also tell inspiring stories. We could stop scaring people with the latest IPCC report in which “the world’s leading scientists released their gravest warning yet about the threat of climate change, saying we will face ‘severe, pervasive and irreversible impacts’ unless we act now” all while knowing perfectly well that Congress will not be acting any time soon.

We can continue plans for a carbon tax both nationally and at the state level. We can incentivize emission reduction. We can work with the western state governors and mine the solar background of newly elected State Senator Bob Hertzberg to show off good policy. We can use some of that billionaire election money to invest in alternatives.  We can share our vision of an energy economy that is clean and strong. We can invite more people into this vision.

We can make great strides.

We can keep writing history.

Tomas O’Grady describes what it’s like to walk onto a typical LAUSD campus, “grey, filthy, uninspiring.” There is a lack of love in the dreary architecture of L.A.’s schools. There is a lack of pride on the campuses where we send our kids. Things are broken and disorganized, a symptom of the larger system.

O’Grady’s answer has been to bring in gardens. Gardens. When I first heard of Enrich L.A.’s agenda I rolled my eyes and muttered under my breath in dripping sarcasm, “yeah, gardens will save our schools.” I was a cynic.

But after an hour talking to O’Grady I think maybe they can, maybe they will. Maybe gardens are the answer.

Even a doer like O’Grady realizes that no one can fix the entire school system. It’s too big, too broken. What the gardens do is put a literal and figurative crack in the concrete. In a sea of grey, the gardens are green. In a place where bathrooms are broken, the garden is growing. Despite disorganization, the gardens thrive.

As he spoke I started to understand what these gardens do: they let something new and vibrant and successful and beautiful take root in our schools.

Kids get out of their bungalows and enter an outdoor classroom. They learn in a new way from a new kind of teacher, a Ranger who is passionate and engaging and invested in the kids. They learn their science and math common core amongst growing, living things.

With the garden a change has been made to a system that feels unchangeable, and it  becomes an irreversible shift. It shifts how kids interact with their curriculum and their classroom. In this new outdoor space they are part of making things grow and thrive. They are invested. They feel a sense of pride in every tomato and green bean. They see the actual fruits of their labor. They see an alternative to the broken greyness. They see a different future and they have a hand in creating that future.

Beyond the common core, that is a lesson worth teaching.

At this point I am inspired. Inspired by the “alternative tomorrow” that O’Grady can see and that the gardens start to show to everyone on campus. I am inspired by what is taking root within these forgotten schools. But the cynic asks, is there research on this? Are their studies showing the impact of school gardens or the look of a child’s learning space on their behavior, productivity and test scores? Can we tie these thriving gardens to thriving children? A simple Google search shows that we can, somewhat anyway.

But what makes O’Grady the most excited, the most impassioned, the most committed to Enrich L.A.’s school gardens is the impact they have beyond growing veggies. “The gardens attract more action,” he confides in an awed reverence of one who values action above all else. “Things start to really change.” Because that is the goal of a doer, a reformer, an activist. To disrupt a stagnant system. To crack open the ground of inefficiency. To cause transformation. That is the real goal for a man like O’Grady, and apparently it’s working.

Teachers begin to innovate. The ones who have never been satisfied by the state of their school start to see hope in the lush greenness of the new outdoor classroom. They start to step out and step up. Change expands beyond the tomatoes and green beans. It creeps into the fiber of the school and transforms it from the inside out.

So now I see. I see what a tireless optimist sees. I see how something as seemingly trivial as a school garden can be the catalyst to transform something as unwieldy as a school district. I see how breaking up concrete can transform a culture.

And there is a greater vision for these singular gardens: an LAUSD farm complete with goats and tractors that would produce enough to take food to take over the food services division. Cheerful rangers delivering daily garden programs. A clean fuel fleet of Enrich L.A. vans bringing nutrition to every campus across L.A.. Transformation in every corner. Pride in abundance. Concrete replaced by vibrancy. It’s not just a metaphor, it’s an achievable vision.

So yeah. Gardens. Gardens might just transform our schools. Let’s start pulling up some of that concrete and see new possibilities take root.

 

Dear Climate Denier,
I don’t really care if you “believe” in climate change. I am not writing to change your mind. I don’t care if you belittle “Global Warming” with funny Facebok posts featuring epic cold spells or roll your eyes at “scientific evidence.”

I am not going to overwhelm you with facts and stats. I am not going to forward you the tid-bits created by 350.org. I know you don’t care what “experts say” and I don’t care that you don’t care. I don’t.

Throughout history there have been people, large groups of people, who both denied scientific evidence and refused to support legislation that would help society evolve to a new way of thinking. You are nothing new.

But you know what happens to those kinds of people? They don’t get their way. Things change whether they believe in the change or not.

Today, the handful of people who don’t believe the earth is round are dismissed as ignorant, but back in the day those people were the vast majority. When the idea first came to light, that the earth was round, there were many who denied it. But denying the roundness of the earth doesn’t change the fact of the matter.

People who denied individuals of color and women the same rights afforded to men used to be a powerful majority. They labeled emancipation an economic disaster. They refused to let blacks sit at the counter. And you know where those people are now? Extinct. Sadly, bigotry still exists, but laws have changed forever and society has evolved.

So it doesn’t matter to me whether you think the world’s climate is changing due to the human behavior of burning fossil fuels and emitting CO2 into the atmosphere. I could care less whether you think this cause and effect scenario is true. 

What I do care about is the reality that we who see the cause and effect (97% of scientists and 53% of the American public) are going to change things around here and stop this nonsense.

Here’s what’s going to happen. We are going to:

1)   TAX (yep, I said it, deal with it) pollution. I could go on with an economic explanation about externalities to prove the validity of this policy, but I’m not going to. I am just giving you a head’s up that it will happen, it should happen, it is the best thing for the economy and America (insert flag wave here.)

2)   CREDIT fossil-free sources of energy. All those take breaks the oil and coal industry get are going to be invested in American jobs that will build the NEW economy. It’s going to be cool and good for all of us.

3)   Do a whole bunch of other stuff to make our cities and communities more amazing and sustainable. You will like it whether you support it or not. Or your grandkids will like it, and you will be extinct.

We who “believe” are working on a radical transformation of our economy to one that puts a priority on fossil fuel reduction. We are going to make it happen, and we don’t need you to believe in it.

Just enjoy the zero emission ride and know that it’s going to be awesome.

Your EcoChix,

Tenaya 

Do you know who gets hope? 
Al Gore does. Al Gore gets hope.

That’s right people, our favorite Eco-VP understands that the climate change movement, which is the environmental movement, needs a whopping dose of hope over doom.

On September 16-17 the Climate Reality Project hosts 24 Hours of Reality: 24 Reasons for Hope.

The 24 hours of streaming content brings us, in the words of the EcoChix, inspiring stories of sustainability in action to give us hope for humanity.

The group invites you to host a viewing party, so I am.

You can show any of the streaming segments about how business and government and individuals are, right this instant, creating the green economy. Then engage in a meaningful, hopeful conversation. The sky isn't falling, it's transforming and it's awesome. 

To add a heaping dose of people-powered hopefulness to this bounty of Gore-generated hope this month, the #PeoplesClimate March on September 21st will be the “largest climate march in history,” which means the largest gathering of people advocating for a sustainable society.

The Sierra Club, Greenpeace, Rainforest Action Network, Environmental Defense Fund and over 1,000 organizations are mobilizing their own supporters to attend this March.

That’s right. Environmental organizations are working together on a singular initiative with a unified message. If that doesn’t prove that radical transformation is on the way, I don’t know what does.

I am going to tell you a secret though, about the March. I’m worried. Worried it might fall back on the eco-doom lexicon I dread. (Read the "We Are Doing It post below.)

I fear that the message of the March is going to sound like a whiney condemnation of the oil and coal industry, which is a tired and ineffective narrative. It’s a true narrative, their profit is at the cost of our people and our earth.  But the other guys just say that they aren't sure about all this "scientific evidence" about warming and that regulating oil and coal means hurting America and our economy...then wave the flag and BAM! They have won the election and transformation slows.

I am worried that these stories of hope that Mr. Gore is hustling are not getting the attention they deserve. Why aren’t they part of the March? Why the disconnect of these two impressive initiatives?

Part of this worry comes from watching Disruption, the film that the People’s Climate March is promoting to energize their base.

Disruption is “an unflinching look at the devastating consequences of our inaction in the face of climate change” and is pretty much what you would think an eco-film about climate change would be. Hard core, terrifying facts: artic ice cap melt, CO2 on steroids, ocean acidification, catastrophic changes.

The film also takes a crack at the reason why we have failed to take action on the issue. We have more pressing needs, climate change is in the future, the issue is overwhelming, we tune out.

One speaker talks about two interlocked processing systems humans have: the analytical and the intuitive. The intuitive or emotional system is what moves us into action. The speaker asks, as if this is really a question, “how do we get something so based in science to move over into the side that makes us feel something?”

At about 40 minutes into the film an EcoChix finally comes on screen. Naomi Klien says that what we need is a vision for the post-carbon economy that is inspiring and exciting. That’s right. That is how you move people to action. EcoChix know that.

At the end, with stirring music building to a crescendo, I was teary-eyed as they asked “are you ready to march?” Totally. I am totally ready. I love to march. My social action began at an ati-aparthied march in the early 90's as a high school student. Now I am ready to be part of the mass of people standing in solidarity to “take the wheel of history” and demand action towards a green economy. Because as the film states, major social change only happens when people take to the streets.

But I can’t get to New York, so what else can I do? I scoured the website. Nothing. 

I have to go to NYC to be a part of this momentous occasion? Really? No virtual March? Where is my iMarch app so that I can be part of the March wherever I am? Where is my local March? I could be missing this, but I looked. What I found was an opportunity to join a discussion in Pasadena about “How to Talk to Climate Deniers,” which inspired my next blog post: An open letter to climate deniers.  

I want an event in Grand Park in LA, sponsored by the city and promoting Garcetti’s new increase in minimum wage campaign, because equity is part of the sustainability mantra and labor and business are critical to “climate” success.

And let’s talk about that word for a minute: “climate.” People’sClimate March. We are people marching for the climate? Hmmm. How…inspiring?

Of course I sit here in my ivory blogosphere and can’t come up with anything better.

What do we want?

Radical transformation of our economic structure to support a sustainable society.

When do we want it?

Now!

Yeah, that’s not going to fly.

The point is that the reason we are marching (yes, we…I am going to just establish myself as part of this March) is to show that there is a large and growing and diverse and active and vocal and voting force that is expecting and demanding our leaders to reject policies that continue to create climate-changing pollutants and support instead those policies that require and incentivize a transformation away from fossil fuels.

#iMARCH for a NEW economy.

See how the “new” is in green? Clever, right?

#iMarch for our SPECIES

#iMarch for SURVIVAL

#iMarch for TRANSFORMATION

#iMarch for an EVOLUTION in thought

#iMarch for the next CHAPTER in our TIMELINE

There are a million reasons to march but they aren't really for the climate, right? How about we ask the masses who are marching, virtually or in NYC, why they march. Turn the answers into social media buttons, just like the transgender people did. (I saw this great asset they did on Facebook but can't find it now.) Turning tweets into campaign slogans; the new brilliant social-change concept that you heard here first.

The #iMarch tweets become a living manifesto, like that list of things the guy nailed to the door of the church that launched a new religion.

Give out #iMarch buttons for a $2 donation at Starbucks. Write your #iMarch statement on a recycled-content paper that is posted up for all to see. Money goes to organizing and financing Marches across the country, letting us all take to our streets. Barristas wear #iMarch t-shirts on the 21st and coffee is free when you bring your own cup that day.

This March is a celebration of new ideas that will save, enhance, benefit and transform our society. #iMarch for this celebration, whether I am in New York or not.

In the meantime I will watch Gore’s stories of hope and know that transformation is already happening and the March is another needed push in the right direction of this gigantic, unwieldy, heavy, momentous wheel of history.

Why do you March?