From Robyn

There are two iconic figures whose famous words have guided my work for most of my career.

The first are the words of Steve Jobs in Apple’s 1997 Think Different campaign:

“Here’s to the crazy ones, the misfits, the rebels, the troublemakers, the round pegs in the square holes … the ones who see things differently — they’re not fond of rules, and they have no respect for the status quo. … You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them, but the only thing you can’t do is ignore them because they change things. … They push the human race forward, and while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius, because the people who are crazy enough to think that they can change the world, are the ones who do.”

The second are the words of Robert Kennedy: “Some men see things as they are, and ask why. I dream of things that never were, and ask why not.”

Both sentiments are so completely captured in this new full video by Nike. Take two minutes to watch it.

Courage does not have a color, justice doesn’t either. And when one brave voice speaks out, others follow. It was U.S. Army veteran, Nate Boyer, who suggested to Kaepernick to take a knee to peacefully protest as a sign of respect.

So much of my work has been about courage, and for those who will inevitably say “Stick to food, Robyn.” I didn’t on #epigate, I haven’t on the diversity and justice needed in our food system, and I won’t here.

And for those who want to destroy their Nike gear, the Houston Police Department is asking that you please donate it instead.

Here’s to the crazy ones, the ones who say why not? The ones building a better world for all of us.

The Boston Globe just shared an article: What Separation from Parents Does to Children: “The results are catastrophic.” While I have been posting on social media about this, this week, I spoke with attorneys in Texas on how we can do more.

The American Academy of Pediatrics, American College of Physicians and the American Psychiatric Association have all issued statements against what is happening at our borders—representing more than 250,000 doctors in the United States.

“If you take the moral, spiritual, even political aspect out of it, from a strictly medical and scientific point of view, what we as a country are doing to these children at the border is unconscionable.’

‘‘To pretend that separated children do not grow up with the shrapnel of this traumatic experience embedded in their minds is to disregard everything we know about child development, the brain, and trauma,’’ the doctors wrote

If you need an action step, I’ve spoken with attorneys in Texas working on behalf of these children and families.

Here are some suggestions for non-lawyers on how we can help with the border immigration issue:

There have been calls for Spanish Speakers and Therapists/Counselors—we will try to connect you, if you fall into that category, when we have more information.

If not, please consider a financial donation to any of the organizations below, or RAICES, who has a bond fund, which will help people pay their bond and get out of detention (to be able to be reunited with their child).

Kate Spade.

As anxiety, depression and suicide become more and more prevalent in our children’s generation, I’m trying to process the death of this incredibly successful woman.

I’ve seen this feed full of friends sharing their thoughts, her products.

There are many posts and articles that stuck with me, but this one from a friend in the advertising world, a creative director and writer named Steven Foster, is the one whose words stuck with me:

“LAST NIGHT I HAD DINNER WITH SOME FRIENDS and they mentioned that they were traveling to New York to see a sibling whose ex-husband had committed suicide. He was a successful Manhattan psychiatrist who jumped out of a window. He left behind a 13-year-old daughter.

Now I read that, 8 minutes ago, they found designer Kate Spade, dead, hung in her apartment. She was 55 and she leaves behind a husband, child, and millions of fans.

I don’t know why someone would seek out suicide. I would be lying if I said I’d never felt the inclination. I think that’s something we all have. When there seems to be no end to our sorrow. When the pain doesn’t stop. When the weight of the world is too much to carry (on). But I’ve never had to guts to do it. Never wanted to put those I love through so much pain and painful questions. I couldn’t take it if I left so many people wondering if they “could have done something.”

The only thing I think I can take away from this tragedy is that, in a world where there is such misery, so much loss, so many confusions, so much pain, and so much secret agony, that we never really know what’s actually going on with someone behind their eyes. What chaos and horror is commencing behind that face we see.

So I vow to just…be a little more kinder…to everyone. That when someone is speaking, I’ll try to listen more. When they’re sharing, I’ll try to be more understanding. And know that what they’re telling me may not be all that they’re saying. I think we should all try to empathize a little more. Probably especially to those we don’t know very well. And, of course, never take those we do for granted.

There is, as they say, a world of hurt. And so many people are hurting. And many find it impossible to ask for help. So, because of that, we who “feel better” should give it. That extra minute. That added kindness. That encouraging word. That sympathetic self.

Because we never know what impact our gentleness, our friendship, our caring could have. Kate Spade may have been surrounded by loving friends and family and enviable success, but she still took her own life. It’s a sad, impossible situation. And I’m not saying, “If someone would have only…” I’m not saying that. But I’m not denying the power of loving eyes and understanding hearts. I’m sure her friends and family are asking themselves those pointless questions. Wondering what they could have done. How they could they not have seen? And that truth of the matter is, they’ll never know. We’ll never know.

All I know is that we’re the ones left behind and we still have a duty. To be there, when we’re asked to be. To maybe even ask how another person is feeling and truly, deeply mean it. There is power in love. It’s a power we could stand to use a little more, perhaps. I know I could.

Meet opposition with compassion. Greet frustration with empathy. Counter sadness with understanding. So I’ll do that here. If you’re hurting, talk to me. I’d like to know. I’d like to help, if I could. Because I would miss you if you weren’t here. I’d miss you deeply. So don’t put me through that. No matter what you’re going through, let me try to help you. Because even though it may be unspeakable pain, I’d like to try to help you. Because I’ve been there too. And it was a kind word and a loving gesture that made me stay. So I’d like you to stay with me. Because you’re loved. You’re deeply, deeply loved. If I know you. Just a little. Or a lot. I do love you. And my life is all the better simply because you’re in it. Maybe I don’t tell you that enough. But it’s something you should know.”

There is power in love.

It’s Mother’s Day, and everything in me is swirling this year, as our oldest gets ready to graduate high school this week.

I find myself waking up in the night. Have I helped to secure in her the compass she will need to navigate this world? Have I helped her learn to silence the noise so that she can use her head and listen to her heart? Have I taught her the lessons she needs to know? To be soft to all that is beautiful and yet tough enough to navigate things when it is not?

Mother’s Day brings out a lot every year: flash backs to pregnancies, baby years, toddlerhood, funny stories, sleepless night and the friends and families that have seen us through. This morning my husband asked me what my favorite motherhood memories are: really, just the times when all of us were together.  That, and telling him we were pregnant with our first.  He was shaving in our tiny bathroom in the rental we lived in. I still remember the “Whoop!” he let out.

This year, I’m really thankful for the friends and family that have seen us through. We tend to see a lot of perfection across social media feeds, as if motherhood is a perfectly straight line through the years, but life is actually full of curve balls, and some of the best advice I ever received was “Your happiness in life will depend on how you handle the curve balls.”  Motherhood is full of them in the 21st century. The advice came from my boss when I worked on the fixed income desk back in the finance world.  She was probably 50 at the time, also a mom, and man, she knew what she was talking about. I remember it so clearly.

What I’ve learned is that if you are going to successfully field those curve balls, you need a good team.

If one thing is certain, life throws us curve balls. We’ve been dealt ours, and I’ve watched parents navigate some of the hardest ones out there.  Some have been dealt a condition or diagnosis like pediatric cancer, some have survived it and others have suffered the immeasurable grief of losing a child.  I had a math teacher in high school who once said, “It goes against the laws of nature to lose a child.  Parents are supposed to go first, it’s why it’s so impossible for us to accept.” That was another lesson that stuck with me, not just from this teacher, it was because she was also a mom.

And today, I felt really grateful. Because of all of the love and work that goes into it. We have a house full of four teenagers. This last year has been a ride. Some years have been really fun, some really difficult.  Raising teens makes raising toddlers feel like a piece of cake. There is so much going on in their world today that is so different to what we experienced: escalating rates of teenage depression, anxiety, suicide, drug use, alcohol use, Juul-ing, social media, social media, social media. Their struggles in their world are very, very real and amplified across social media.  I want home to be a safe place for them in the midst of all of that chaos and amplification.  A place where they can come in, put down the mask they may or may not feel they have to wear in the world, put down the armor and the shield and rest.

So today, to have them around was all I could ask for when we went out for lunch.  The local brunch spot was packed, and they gave the moms a glass of champagne as we came in the door.  As I sat there, listening to our teenagers swap stories from their weekends, a family sat at the table beside us.

And suddenly, all of the memories of the toddler years flooded back.  But in a different way, as I watched the mom beside me.  She had a three year old daughter in a sundress and little cowboy boots, and she had a baby boy on her lap.  He wore glasses, and due to my friendship with an extraordinary mother of four who works on inclusion issues for children with Down’s Syndrome, I knew he had Down’s. He was beautiful and so full of love and such a handful as any 10 month old baby is going to be. Her patience was incredible, and her love so limitless for her little man. I wanted to tell her about my friend Beth whose son Patrick was heading off to college this year, but I didn’t want to interfere, so I kept to myself and simply watched her love him.

As that family turned to go, she looked under the table at the mess and bent to pick it up, with him on her hip. How many times did we do that?  We’d actually just been reminiscing about it the night before.  The endless trail of crumbs.  And there she was, doing it on Mother’s Day.

As we headed home, we swung by the post office, so that I could run in and mail a few cards. At the dropbox was a couple, she held an enormous amount of envelopes in her hands, as he stood to take her picture. I walked past, then turned back.

“Are those wedding invitations?” I asked.

They both beamed and exclaimed, “Yes!” “They are!”

“Would you like me to take a picture of both of you mailing them?” It was a Sunday afternoon, the place was empty.

“We would love it,” they said.

As I handed their phone back to them, I asked if the pics were OK, “I could take another”, I said.

She looked at them and turned to him and said, ” You can see my ring!”

So I left.

If you pay attention, you will see that there is so much love in the world.  It will help you find the courage you need to do the things you never thought you could.

Pay attention to the love, don’t miss it because you have your head in your phone, or are afraid to say yes to a meeting, or because you’re afraid it’s been too long since you’ve called. Don’t miss it.

And if you don’t see it, keep moving until you do. And if you still don’t see it, create it. It will attract more. You can amplify it.

Love is a rocket fuel, on Mother’s Day and always.