As a prelude to this, I should explain that several years ago I was involved with the state of Maine’s creative economy initiative, which was an effort to acknowledge and encourage the link between Maine’s stellar arts community and its economic development goals. I spent a lot of time thinking about and trying to find resources to support the initiative, in part so that we (like many other states) could support our downtown revitalization strategies with artists and art-related endeavors. As a “wanna-be” writer and fiber artist, who is also enamored with photography and mixed-media work, I liked the idea of helping working artists succeed. And I truly believed their work was helping support the state’s economy (still do).
As a result of that work, and because I have artist friends, and because I’m now a full-time grant writer, I’ve watched with dismay over the past few years as the recession has decimated funding for arts projects across the country. Further complicating matters is that very few grants are available that provide funds directly to artists - and they are so competitive that there's virtually no return on investment for the time the artist puts in to preparing proposals. Most grant funds are given to nonprofit arts organizations, who apply for them and set the budgets and pay the artists. Strangely (to me, anyway), the artists are often the last to get paid, and their fees are often small “stipends” that are so inadequate that I feel like there should be an artist tip jar at every performance. Meanwhile, the nonprofit managers collect salaries and health insurance and paid sick/vacation days.
Let me be clear: I’m not saying arts managers are unimportant; I’m actually not even saying they are (necessarily) overpaid. In my own brief stint in an arts-related organization, I saw what a thankless job arts management can be, and contrary to what the media would like you to believe, most administrators are not inappropriately compensated (particularly if you calculate an hourly rate, since most easily work 60-80 hours/week). What I AM in a knot about is that somehow the costs for managing and producing the art are valued so much more than the actual creation of the art itself. Take a new musical theater production, for example. 200 hours of nonprofit management staff time might go directly to a new project…but the artists spent the better part of two YEARS creating the work, writing the script and music. On top of this, the artists have to market the work, chase down potential investors, and otherwise try to make a living. While there are exceptions, of course, the average artist doesn’t stand a chance at recouping her costs. (I actually drafted a make-believe grant budget to illustrate this, which I can post if anyone is really that interested.)
But this doesn’t just apply to theater. Kevin Smith, the film director/screen writer/potty mouth extraordinaire, figured out that the marketing and distribution costs for his movies were as much if not more than the production costs, and he recently ticked a bunch of people off by essentially self-releasing his latest flick. Many book authors find themselves self-financing their own book tours, and their residuals get eaten up by management and production costs, such that out of every $15 book we buy, something like $1 actually winds up in the author’s pocket. It’s why so many writers don’t (can’t) quit their day jobs. And this article about Ray LaMontagne suggests he too came to realize how much the traditional music business machine was putting the screws to him, both artistically and financially.
Recently an alternative strategy has developed to help the public directly fund artists who have projects in development. Several websites have cropped up that allow artists to post their projects online and solicit funding from friends and family members, including Kickstarter, United States Artists and Pledge Music. It’s kind of like Etsy, except they’re selling ideas instead of necklaces, and your "purchase" (contribution) helps those ideas come to fruition. Like Etsy, these sites do take a small transaction fee, but it appears that the majority of your contribution does land with the artist.
These sites intrigue me. On the one hand, it’s a fairly simple way for artists to circumvent the traditional, institutional-based grant path and gain a bit more control of the project development process. And, y’know, potentially get paid for the work they do. On the other hand, realistically how many times can an artist tap his friends and extended family? Even more challenging is the issue of getting the public to these sites. Nonprofit arts organizations function kind of like our representative democracy does – the public “elects” nonprofits (by donating money) because we want to support certain causes, and we let them sort out the details that we don’t have the time or inclination or knowledge to deal with ourselves. I mean, if I don’t know the artist personally, how am I even going to know projects exist? Plus, unless I am *really* passionate about something, I’m not going to take the time to sort through pages and pages of project profiles, and I think that’s true for most people. (And, in case you are curious, there were two quilt projects listed on Kickstarter, neither of which was successful in its fundraising efforts. Knitting projects have fared slightly better.)
Lo and behold, and because the universe likes to keep reminding me the world is a really small place: as I was drafting this post, someone on Facebook sent out a message about a friend of hers who is using Kickstarter to fundraise for a musical theater project (go on, pledge a few bucks, I'll be here when you are done - the artist is legit and a nice person to boot).
Frankly, although I use social media on a daily basis, I never really saw how it could have a whole lot of positive impact; mostly I just like to complain about my commute and share pictures of my cat. But (late to the party, I suppose), now I'm thinking that social media has the potential to instigate more revolutions than the one we saw in Egypt this week; that it could turn all sorts of taken-for-granted institutions on their heads, including the traditional models of philanthropy. Just to further underscore my point, I read this morning about Andy Carvin, a strategist at NPR who gained worldwide attention through his tweets about the Egypt uprising. He was using his personal Twitter feed, rather than an official NPR one, but NPR was smart enough to not shut him down - and in return, Carvin suggested his followers donate to NPR. While it's hard to say how much this will actually generate for NPR and its affiliate stations, this article here suggests it could be substantial. Great lessons there, not just for the nonprofit sector but for all of those institutions who seek above all to "control the message".
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Sockpocalypse 2011
Yesterday I stopped by one of my local fabric stores, which also sells yarn, because I needed some thread and a couple of fat quarters for my quilt guild meeting this week. I reminded myself that I was on a budget and needed nothing else, particularly any more yarn since I have barely put a dent in the yarn I bought last summer, and especially since I'd bought some Noro just two weeks earlier to make myself some mittens. (Which, by the way, are currently sitting in my sink in some ridiculously hot water in an attempt to shrink them. Apparently I cannot be trusted to measure my own hand.)
This particular store has two entrances; I usually use the front because I generally walk there, since it is not far from my apartment. Yesterday I was running errands and this was my last stop, so I had my car, and I had to park at the back of the lot, which was totally iced over and necessitated using the back entrance. This meant that I had to walk past the yarn section. I tried not to look, but you know how these things go, right? I had to pet a few skeins of Noro, cursing their twiggy-ness while coveting the colors. And I had to gaze lovingly at all the fabulous Auracania they had in stock, right? I mean, it's only natural.
I was fine until I saw the sock yarn display. Because this has been the winter of Snowpocalypse, I've been wearing my handknit wool socks almost every day. My sister even broke out the pair I made her a few years ago, and my nephew and oldest niece keep stealing them from her when they go play in the snow, because the socks are warm and cozy. (And just like that, I'm no longer crazy for dropping $20-$25 on a skein of yarn.)
The store had some new sock yarn stock in, and I quickly became enamored with a skein of hand dyed sock yarn from Pagewood Farms, a company I'd never heard of (according to their blog, they were recently on the Martha Stewart Show). It was lovely; really, really lovely; there were several shades I liked but the Prism colorway struck my fancy best. And, well. You know what happened next.
As I was knitting along last night, watching NCIS reruns during a winter THUNDERSTORM with lightening so bright I thought a police car with flashing blue lights was outside my window, I suddenly remembered I had another sock project floating around. I unearthed it from the heap that is my yarn basket, only to discover that one sock was completely finished except for the kitchener stitching of the toe.
This yarn is from Silver Moon farm, which I bought last May at the Massachusetts sheep and wool festival (I wrote about it here.) I loved the yarn on the skein, but I never would have expected to wind up with camouflage socks from it:
Also in my basket? A half-knit sock using Noro sock yarn, and a half-knit sock using (*gulp*) my precious skein of Madelinetosh. I stopped looking after that. I don't think I want to know what else might be down in there.
(*Both socks are knit using the pattern/instructions found in Knitting Rules by Stephanie Pearl-McPhee. I find that with hand painted yarn, a plain old sock shows of the colors best.)
Cat Lady Chronicles
I keep my fabric in a cubby-hole sort of thing, and I have some cloth "drawers" that I picked up at Target in a couple of the cubbies. One of the bottom drawers was empty, and the cat somehow figured out how to pull the drawer out just enough so she can hop in and sleep. This picture is a bit blurry, but I love it because I caught her mid-yawn before she settled in for a nap, and it looks like she's laughing:
Friday, February 4, 2011
My Winter Song To You
I’ve written before about my inexplicable hatred of fall…but I’m not sure I’ve ever written about my inexplicable love of winter. Yes, I’m a knitter so I love to wear my hand knits, and yes I’m a quilter so I love curling up under my quilts. And I definitely love, love, love that it is now February and it's after 5 pm before it gets truly dark out. But there’s more to it than this. I'm not sure I can really articulate it, but I'm going to try.
One of my favorite books is “Winter’s Tale” by Mark Helprin (despite the author’s political leanings…). Coincidentally, I just read today that the book is being adapted for a film, which ought to be interesting; it’s a strange and complicated story and I cannot imagine how they will manage certain scenes. At any rate, in the book is a character named Beverly who is dying of consumption and has such a raging fever that she spends most of her time up on the roof in the dead of winter. I don’t know why, but I could see myself doing such a thing, had I the time and money (or access to my roof). Yes it’s cold and I hate being stuck inside during storms and I hate trudging around in boots and I loathe what this particular winter has done to my commuting (see my Twitter feed for the painful details). But there’s something invigorating about all that fresh air, the way it opens your eyes and clears out your lungs and flushes your cheeks. I love it. It kills me that I am so completely uncoordinated, because I think I would have otherwise really enjoyed skiing and the other winter sports. I’ve put my order in already; if there is such a thing as reincarnation, next time I want better hand-eye coordination along with stronger knees and ankles.
But mostly I love winter because there are mornings like the one I had today, when the sky is blazing blue and the trees are covered in ice, branches glistening in their little cocoons of frozen water, and the snow sparkling diamonds through the forest. It’s about as magical as things can get, at least around here. And when you are stuck on a painfully slow and clunky commuter rail train for the umpteenth day in a row, eating your Luna Bar for breakfast, it’s easy for even an almost 40-year old woman to imagine herself a more pleasant version of Narnia’s White Queen. Even when dressed completely in black.
Anyway. I’m loving winter at the moment, the oodles of snow and pain-in-the-arse commute notwithstanding. And in a deliberate attempt to be more positive, because something else in my life decided to fall apart this past week, here are a few more things I’m loving:
1. Ingrid Michaelson’s new album, Everybody. Also, the Ingrid Michaelson/Sara Bareilles song "Winter Song", which makes me happy every time I hear it.
2. Skinny caramel macchiato’s from Starbucks. My sister says that even when they are made with skim milk they are still loaded with sugar and caffeine, but they have become my Friday afternoon treat.
3. Apples. My appetite finally showed up again, which I had some mixed feelings about, and it kicked into gear with apples. Growing up my mother rarely allowed junk food, and if I had a dollar for every time I whined about being hungry in between meals and she told me “Have an apple!”, I would never want for cashmere yarn again. Alas, she was right; it's a perfect and portable snack. My favorites are honey crisps at the moment, but braeburns work just fine in a pinch.
4. My work. I’m currently working on 2 grant proposals that I’m really excited about. Neither is for a ton of money, but they are both unique and are forcing me to really think creatively and strategically about how to write them. It’s the sort of mental challenge I enjoy.
5. I finally applied for my passport! I kept putting it off because of the state of my hair, which is just about the most ridiculous thing I could ever say but it's the complete and utter truth of the matter. The downside is, no drastic haircut until after I get back from Ireland, lest they not let me out of the country.
6. My old journals. I had to haul them out this past weekend, as I was on a fact-finding mission to prove a certain someone wrong about something. *ahem* Now that the dust has settled it's fascinating to read what was going on inside my head back in 2006/2007, leading up to my move to NYC. You know how every once and awhile you think to yourself, "What was I thinking?" Well, thanks to these journals I can actually answer that question. And I wasn't half as crazy as I had begun to think, which is frankly quite comforting to know.
I know there's no knitting in this post, nor any sewing. I finally downloaded the last batch of photos I took of my various projects, and not one of them was usable. I must begin again. In the meantime, if anyone has any ideas as to how to hand felt a pair of Noro mittens that came out a little on the big side, please drop me a line!
One of my favorite books is “Winter’s Tale” by Mark Helprin (despite the author’s political leanings…). Coincidentally, I just read today that the book is being adapted for a film, which ought to be interesting; it’s a strange and complicated story and I cannot imagine how they will manage certain scenes. At any rate, in the book is a character named Beverly who is dying of consumption and has such a raging fever that she spends most of her time up on the roof in the dead of winter. I don’t know why, but I could see myself doing such a thing, had I the time and money (or access to my roof). Yes it’s cold and I hate being stuck inside during storms and I hate trudging around in boots and I loathe what this particular winter has done to my commuting (see my Twitter feed for the painful details). But there’s something invigorating about all that fresh air, the way it opens your eyes and clears out your lungs and flushes your cheeks. I love it. It kills me that I am so completely uncoordinated, because I think I would have otherwise really enjoyed skiing and the other winter sports. I’ve put my order in already; if there is such a thing as reincarnation, next time I want better hand-eye coordination along with stronger knees and ankles.
But mostly I love winter because there are mornings like the one I had today, when the sky is blazing blue and the trees are covered in ice, branches glistening in their little cocoons of frozen water, and the snow sparkling diamonds through the forest. It’s about as magical as things can get, at least around here. And when you are stuck on a painfully slow and clunky commuter rail train for the umpteenth day in a row, eating your Luna Bar for breakfast, it’s easy for even an almost 40-year old woman to imagine herself a more pleasant version of Narnia’s White Queen. Even when dressed completely in black.
Anyway. I’m loving winter at the moment, the oodles of snow and pain-in-the-arse commute notwithstanding. And in a deliberate attempt to be more positive, because something else in my life decided to fall apart this past week, here are a few more things I’m loving:
1. Ingrid Michaelson’s new album, Everybody. Also, the Ingrid Michaelson/Sara Bareilles song "Winter Song", which makes me happy every time I hear it.
2. Skinny caramel macchiato’s from Starbucks. My sister says that even when they are made with skim milk they are still loaded with sugar and caffeine, but they have become my Friday afternoon treat.
3. Apples. My appetite finally showed up again, which I had some mixed feelings about, and it kicked into gear with apples. Growing up my mother rarely allowed junk food, and if I had a dollar for every time I whined about being hungry in between meals and she told me “Have an apple!”, I would never want for cashmere yarn again. Alas, she was right; it's a perfect and portable snack. My favorites are honey crisps at the moment, but braeburns work just fine in a pinch.
4. My work. I’m currently working on 2 grant proposals that I’m really excited about. Neither is for a ton of money, but they are both unique and are forcing me to really think creatively and strategically about how to write them. It’s the sort of mental challenge I enjoy.
5. I finally applied for my passport! I kept putting it off because of the state of my hair, which is just about the most ridiculous thing I could ever say but it's the complete and utter truth of the matter. The downside is, no drastic haircut until after I get back from Ireland, lest they not let me out of the country.
6. My old journals. I had to haul them out this past weekend, as I was on a fact-finding mission to prove a certain someone wrong about something. *ahem* Now that the dust has settled it's fascinating to read what was going on inside my head back in 2006/2007, leading up to my move to NYC. You know how every once and awhile you think to yourself, "What was I thinking?" Well, thanks to these journals I can actually answer that question. And I wasn't half as crazy as I had begun to think, which is frankly quite comforting to know.
I know there's no knitting in this post, nor any sewing. I finally downloaded the last batch of photos I took of my various projects, and not one of them was usable. I must begin again. In the meantime, if anyone has any ideas as to how to hand felt a pair of Noro mittens that came out a little on the big side, please drop me a line!
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Return to Reality
2011 started out really, really great - I was happy and full of positive energy and all sorts of plans for sewing and knitting and writing and work and life in general. And then - well. Life got back to normal.
1) You may have heard, but it's snowed a lot this month. Today was my third work-from-home snow day in as many weeks. And this week's super cold weather has meant that the commuter trains have been a disaster; on Monday it was 11 am before I got to work, and it wasn't much better yesterday. I enjoy working from home occasionally during slow times, but this is not a slow time. And as an introvert, I need the occasional visit from a coworker or a run to Starbucks every once and awhile to get me out of my own head. It's also difficult to write with the cat around -- at this very moment, she is standing on my stomach as I type, purring away and nuzzling my neck. Cute, but after the seventy-eleventh time I've plopped her on the floor it gets a little old.
2) One morning I got up and my car made horrible noises when I tried to move it. $550 down the drain to fix it. Now, honestly - in the grand scheme of things it's not a ton of money, but my car is a 2002 Saturn so I basically tripled the value of the thing. And it happened just a few days before...
3) I had to drop $300 on another vet visit for the cat. It turned out to be money well spent, because we learned that her heart murmur is benign and I can stop worrying about it. And I loved the cardiologist's report the vet sent me, labeled Calypso Allen, as if she were my child. But it was another painful check to write.
4) I have totally and completely lost my appetite. In the normal course of things, this should elate me. But I have had the same Cadbury chocolate bars in my cupboard for three weeks now, and this just isn't normal for me. To amuse myself, I've been all over the internet looking at health websites and, hypochondriac that I am, have self-diagnosed myself with all sorts of terrible diseases. Fun times. What did people do before the internet? (I suspect it's stress related, but if it continues I'll have to march myself off to the doctor.)
5) The elderly woman who lived downstairs from me moved out. Noisy people moved in. Enough said.
6) The governor (see previous post) continues to annoy the bejeezus out of me. One day he's rolling back Maine's environmental laws, the next he's nominating someone who admits to having no community development experience to lead the state's Department of Economic and Community Development, and now according to this thinks he can use state workers as election fodder. (Dude, there are LAWS about that, y'know.) I have to tell you, I own exactly one thing from Marden's (a desk) and I'm seriously contemplating having a big ol' bonfire with it.
Despite all this, there has been a fair amount of knitting - in part necessitated by the fact that I lost my handknit mittens. I went to 3 different stores to buy some gloves, but there were none to be had. Plenty of bathing suits, but no gloves. I really don't understand retail. More on that soon.
1) You may have heard, but it's snowed a lot this month. Today was my third work-from-home snow day in as many weeks. And this week's super cold weather has meant that the commuter trains have been a disaster; on Monday it was 11 am before I got to work, and it wasn't much better yesterday. I enjoy working from home occasionally during slow times, but this is not a slow time. And as an introvert, I need the occasional visit from a coworker or a run to Starbucks every once and awhile to get me out of my own head. It's also difficult to write with the cat around -- at this very moment, she is standing on my stomach as I type, purring away and nuzzling my neck. Cute, but after the seventy-eleventh time I've plopped her on the floor it gets a little old.
2) One morning I got up and my car made horrible noises when I tried to move it. $550 down the drain to fix it. Now, honestly - in the grand scheme of things it's not a ton of money, but my car is a 2002 Saturn so I basically tripled the value of the thing. And it happened just a few days before...
3) I had to drop $300 on another vet visit for the cat. It turned out to be money well spent, because we learned that her heart murmur is benign and I can stop worrying about it. And I loved the cardiologist's report the vet sent me, labeled Calypso Allen, as if she were my child. But it was another painful check to write.
4) I have totally and completely lost my appetite. In the normal course of things, this should elate me. But I have had the same Cadbury chocolate bars in my cupboard for three weeks now, and this just isn't normal for me. To amuse myself, I've been all over the internet looking at health websites and, hypochondriac that I am, have self-diagnosed myself with all sorts of terrible diseases. Fun times. What did people do before the internet? (I suspect it's stress related, but if it continues I'll have to march myself off to the doctor.)
5) The elderly woman who lived downstairs from me moved out. Noisy people moved in. Enough said.
6) The governor (see previous post) continues to annoy the bejeezus out of me. One day he's rolling back Maine's environmental laws, the next he's nominating someone who admits to having no community development experience to lead the state's Department of Economic and Community Development, and now according to this thinks he can use state workers as election fodder. (Dude, there are LAWS about that, y'know.) I have to tell you, I own exactly one thing from Marden's (a desk) and I'm seriously contemplating having a big ol' bonfire with it.
Despite all this, there has been a fair amount of knitting - in part necessitated by the fact that I lost my handknit mittens. I went to 3 different stores to buy some gloves, but there were none to be had. Plenty of bathing suits, but no gloves. I really don't understand retail. More on that soon.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Tangent: Where She Rants About The Governor
I was born and raised in Maine, though I left for college and, with the exception of the years 2003-2007, have lived outside the state ever since. However, despite my "Mainer-in-Exile" status, I have found that while you can take the woman out of Maine, you can't take the Maine out of the woman. I still read the Maine newspapers every day (online), and pay much more attention to what is going on up there than I do in my own locale. I still dream of Vaughn Woods in Hallowell, and still jabber with anyone who will listen about the state's downtowns. If one's home is where one's heart is, then Maine will always be my home. Or my home-away-from-home, if I must be realistic.
During those 4 years I was back in Maine, I spent some time as a board member of RealizeMaine, an initiative designed to retain and recruit people under age 40 to the state. (Just to be clear, I am no longer on the board, and the comments to follow represent my own personal viewpoint.) Maine is not only the whitest state in the nation, but it also has an aging population, and for a number of reasons young adults tend to leave (the lack of jobs being pretty high up on the list). This is not good for the state's economy for a whole host of reasons. Research demonstrated that one of the most critical factors in attracting young workers, particularly young professional workers, to the state was diversity; ie, we were more likely to attract them if we increased the state's diversity. And we're talking about diversity on a broad scale: race, gender, ethnicity, socio-economic status, etc. The state's lack of diversity makes many people LEAVE, and many who wish to start new businesses look elsewhere because they know their business will best thrive in a truly diverse community, something most places in Maine cannot offer them.
So you can imagine my dismay this week when I learned that (at least as of Monday) the new Governor of Maine had not appointed one single woman to his cabinet (see the Maine Women's Policy Center's press release here.) And today, he told the NAACP to "kiss his butt", calling them a "special interest".
I'll put aside the ridiculous notion of human and civil rights being "special interests", because frankly it's so absurd I can't even wrap my head around it (not to mention the fact that the Governor's adopted (black) child is equal in front of the law as a result of Martin Luther King and the NAACP's work). And I'll put aside the fact that a governor telling any group to "kiss his butt" is simply unprofessional and unbecoming of such an elected official, because it is. I'll also put aside the ridiculous notion that in a state that produced Senators Olympia Snowe and Susan Collins that he can't find any smart and qualified Republican women to hire (maybe women are just too smart to work for him?).
But that a Republican so focused on making Maine a "business friendly" place could not see how his actions and comments will affect the business climate in Maine is horrifying to me. Because, statistically speaking, if you are going to increase small business creation, you'd best be talking to the women and the minorities:
During those 4 years I was back in Maine, I spent some time as a board member of RealizeMaine, an initiative designed to retain and recruit people under age 40 to the state. (Just to be clear, I am no longer on the board, and the comments to follow represent my own personal viewpoint.) Maine is not only the whitest state in the nation, but it also has an aging population, and for a number of reasons young adults tend to leave (the lack of jobs being pretty high up on the list). This is not good for the state's economy for a whole host of reasons. Research demonstrated that one of the most critical factors in attracting young workers, particularly young professional workers, to the state was diversity; ie, we were more likely to attract them if we increased the state's diversity. And we're talking about diversity on a broad scale: race, gender, ethnicity, socio-economic status, etc. The state's lack of diversity makes many people LEAVE, and many who wish to start new businesses look elsewhere because they know their business will best thrive in a truly diverse community, something most places in Maine cannot offer them.
So you can imagine my dismay this week when I learned that (at least as of Monday) the new Governor of Maine had not appointed one single woman to his cabinet (see the Maine Women's Policy Center's press release here.) And today, he told the NAACP to "kiss his butt", calling them a "special interest".
I'll put aside the ridiculous notion of human and civil rights being "special interests", because frankly it's so absurd I can't even wrap my head around it (not to mention the fact that the Governor's adopted (black) child is equal in front of the law as a result of Martin Luther King and the NAACP's work). And I'll put aside the fact that a governor telling any group to "kiss his butt" is simply unprofessional and unbecoming of such an elected official, because it is. I'll also put aside the ridiculous notion that in a state that produced Senators Olympia Snowe and Susan Collins that he can't find any smart and qualified Republican women to hire (maybe women are just too smart to work for him?).
But that a Republican so focused on making Maine a "business friendly" place could not see how his actions and comments will affect the business climate in Maine is horrifying to me. Because, statistically speaking, if you are going to increase small business creation, you'd best be talking to the women and the minorities:
- 10.1 million firms are owned by women (50% or more), employing more than 13 million people, and generating $1.9 trillion in sales as of 2008.
- Three quarters of all women-owned businesses are majority owned by women (51% or more), for a total of 7.2 million firms, employing 7.3 million people, and generating $1.1 trillion in sales.
- Women-owned firms (50% or more) account for 40% of all privately held firms.
- 1.9 million firms are majority-owned (51% or more) by women of color in the U.S.
These firms employ 1.2 million people and generate $165 billion in revenues annually.
(taken from the Center for Women's Business Research)
Small businesses are the back-bone of the United States (and Maine's) economy, and generate over 60% of all new jobs in the United States (see the SBA website here). Women and minorities, those "special interests", represent the fastest growing segments of entrepreneurs. And yet the Governor of Maine is both literally and figuratively telling them to kiss off, while simutaneously telling everyone he's going to make the state a great place to do business. Realistically he can cut all the red tape he wants, but generally speaking people don't go where they aren't welcome. If you want to improve your state's economy, why on earth would you insult the people most likely to start new busineses and create new jobs in your state? At best his words and actions are irrational, and at worst they are patently offensive and childish and wrong. Mostly, though, it's just backwards, and I think we'd all agree that backwards is the one direction in which Maine can least afford to move.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
A Few of My (Current) Favorite Things
1. Ingrid Michaelson's album Boys and Girls.
2. Brene Brown and her books.
3. Goat cheese.
4. Castle. (No one but Nathan Fillion could make this show work.)
5. It's no longer completely pitch dark at 4:30 in the afternoon! (ok, so it's pitch dark at 4:35...still, we're moving in the right direction!)
6. Counting the days until we leave for Ireland.
7. Scrambled eggs and toast with strawberry jam and butter. For dinner.
8. Not having to do Christmas shopping during lunch break, hurrah!
9. Finding quarters that my niece needs to complete her state quarter collection, which she is really excited about (today I found both American Samoa and Yellowstone in my purse).
10. Spirituality and Health magazine. I don't know why, but reading it always makes me happy.
What's making YOU happy these days?
2. Brene Brown and her books.
3. Goat cheese.
4. Castle. (No one but Nathan Fillion could make this show work.)
5. It's no longer completely pitch dark at 4:30 in the afternoon! (ok, so it's pitch dark at 4:35...still, we're moving in the right direction!)
6. Counting the days until we leave for Ireland.
7. Scrambled eggs and toast with strawberry jam and butter. For dinner.
8. Not having to do Christmas shopping during lunch break, hurrah!
9. Finding quarters that my niece needs to complete her state quarter collection, which she is really excited about (today I found both American Samoa and Yellowstone in my purse).
10. Spirituality and Health magazine. I don't know why, but reading it always makes me happy.
What's making YOU happy these days?
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