Value Reclamation

How can we work together to preserve the gifts of many, for the profit of all?

This summer, I had the opportunity to learn more about Patagonia and its social mission to protect the planet. And while I am intrigued and fascinated by its innovative, purpose-driven ownership model, what really moved me was seeing how the roots of environmental integrity and social justice were evident at its very beginning. 

Before starting the outdoor goods and apparel company, founder Yvon Chouinard made and sold climbing equipment, a vocation that pulled together his passions as a blacksmith and mountain climber. Within just a few years, Chouinard was the largest climbing equipment supplier in the United States, yet when he discovered his handmade steel pitons were scarring mountains, as climbers hammered the pitons into rock faces, Chouinard decided the cost to the environment was way more than the cost to his bottom line. He immediately ceased production and sales.

I appreciate Chouinard’s different approach to quality control and assurance. 

Furthermore, I wonder what other intersections of business and society, production and environment, could benefit from a lens so honest, from an inspection so true. 

What might we find if we listen and learn more about popular, standardized designs and the actual impact of their delivery? And then, what will we do about what we discover? 

The roots of my professional career are newspaper journalism and the narrative process, yet joy and purpose have been revealed through my work with students and particularly mentoring undergraduates to apply their skills and talents and make a difference in their communities. But more recently, I have worked with learners from elementary to high school age, and specifically offered them tutoring services to build literacy skills. Many students seek support with reading comprehension and confidence or with how to fully express their thoughts and ideas in an essay format. 

Though my evidence is anecdotal, I am compelled to believe that many of the standardized, conveyor belt systems that guide our English-Language Arts grading scales and measurements, perhaps well-intentioned to leave no child behind, are actually leaving emotional scars not unlike steel spikes pounded into mountain sides. 

I have witnessed young elementary students who take immense pride in pencil strokes that curl the lower-case letter “a,” and who thoughtfully examine the trace of every letter symbol before producing its specific sound, confess to hate reading and be bad at spelling. I have listened to high schoolers, bold with spirit and bright with abstract creativity destined to design systems of infrastructure few else can imagine, describe the guilt they experienced in elementary classrooms because they felt their reading skills slowed down everyone else. 

What are we teaching our children about the way they uniquely receive and express letters and words, if the methods we use to educate them are leaving young people feeling ashamed and fearful?

Please understand I am not an expert. I am not a certified teacher nor an accredited specialist in any field. But I do not need to be, because you are the expert. 

You are the expert in your story. 

And my hope is to not only help you tell your story, but also to share it in such a way that empowers you and enlightens others. What makes me different is a determination to extend that invitation to young people. What if we started asking children how they read, or what it feels like to spell, or why one plus one equals two? My bold claim is that by listening to young people, their stories, and their ideas, children will actually teach us a better way to educate. 

Your help is vital. Your participation is the key to achieving our mission. 

I look forward to meeting you, listening to you, and learning with you.