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Day Lilies: We Choose How We See the World

Day Lilies at Carondelet Pottery

Day Lilies at Carondelet Pottery

When I am throwing pots at Carondelet Pottery, I usually take a break and sit in the garden. And when I do, I make a choice. I can choose to focus on the weeds that need pulling or the fence that I have been meaning to paint, or I can choose to see day lilies blooming.

Every day we have times when we choose how we see the world.

Later that morning as I was emptying the trash at the studio I saw two men fishing for cans in the dumpster. This presented me with several choices.

I can choose to ignore them.

I can choose to inform them in no uncertain terms with only a glance, not words, that they shouldn’t be fishing in the dumpster and that they had better not knock trash into the alley.

Or I can choose to say, “Good morning.”

Which is what I did. And they responded with “Good morning” as well.

We had a brief conversation about the beautiful weather, the nice people at the Methodist church a few blocks away, and the price of scrap metal. All three of us made a choice about how we saw each other that morning.

And it was the beginning of a lovely peaceful day.

Day Lily, Carondelet Pottery

Day Lily, Carondelet Pottery

Relationships: Begin as You Mean to Go on

Blue/Purple Vase, Carondelet Pottery

Blue/Purple Vase, Carondelet Pottery

When I am throwing at the wheel, typically I begin as I mean to go on. As I center the clay, I am intentional. For a vase, I keep my left hand firm against the side to maintain a centered clay column; I push down with my right fist and strong arm the clay into a flat disc to create what will become a plate. I begin as I mean to go on.

Recently, a friend was worried about how she would work with a new colleague. She liked this person but, as an introvert, she was worried about being overshadowed. Would she be second fiddle, not because he put her in that place but because she placed herself there?

I told her quite simply,

Begin as you mean to go on.

At meetings, continue to share your perspective and not hold back because your new colleague is the extrovert. Continue doing your part of the work, and don’t carry his water.

It may appear to you that he doesn’t have all of his ducks in a row for a meeting, but don’t begin by assuming he is unprepared and then put yourself in a support role to provide what you think he needs to make his presentation a success. He is a professional and his way of preparing might be quite different, but still successful. And if turns out you were right and he wasn’t as prepared as he should have been, he will learn to do a better job the next time.

You need to establish an equitable relationship from the start and not place yourself in a subordinate role. You are, in fact, colleagues. If you represent yourself as support staff, that is how he will treat you.


When I throw that vase, I establish the parameters from the outset. Because if it starts as a plate, it is almost impossible to force the clay back into a cylinder and pull it up into a vase. The clay particles have been pushed in a different direction. Even if you do force it back, the results are usually not happy.

Begin as you mean to go on.

Bluebells Emerge

Bluebells at the Studio

The sun is finally warming the north-facing garden at the studio dappling crisp silver maple leaves that blanket the shade garden. Bluebells are the first to emerge and their drab 1930s green leaves provide a soft frame, holding stalks topped with startling sky blue tassels and buds tinged with a faint sunset pink. Within two months there will be no trace left–just bare ground.

I am glad I left clay wet on the wheel for a quick glance.

Being Intentional: A Path to Equity

Vase, Carondelet Pottery

Vase, Carondelet Pottery

At my pottery studio I mix my own glazes in a century-old cool gray stone cellar with half-windows that provide dappled natural light. Silica is usually the dominant ingredient, followed by ball clay and kaolin. They are heavy flour. Neph sy is lighter and a bright white while strontium carbonate that makes me think of NASA and the space program for some weird reason.But no glaze is complete without the colorants–the green patina of copper carbonate, the dirty mustard of rutile, and the deep red of Spanish iron oxide. My favorite is finely milled cobalt, its delicate lavender a paradox given that the smallest bit can color glazes the deepest midnight blue. There is nothing random about mixing a glaze. It is intentional. Each ingredient is essential and no measurement is left to chance. And that is the same when you are leading a work group; the involvement of each person is essential to the best end result. Everyone has a critical role to play.

How we interact with others is fundamental to the issue of equity. Have you ever attended a meeting where the only people speaking are the white participants? Or the older participants? Or the male participants? Are the contributions of those in the minority dismissed? Is a suggestion made by those in the minority ignored, only to be accepted when it is given later by someone from the majority? This calls us to be intentional. When we are working in a group, it can be as simple as being deliberate in how the meeting flows.

  • Recognize the ideas of each person and acknowledge those.
  • Take an intentional approach and use processes at meetings to ensure everyone’s voice is heard by going around the table, or start the meeting by asking someone who is typically overlooked or not in the majority to lead off with their comments or thoughts.
  • Invite those who are heard the least  to speak first.

Be purposeful in everything you do–who you invite to the table. It’s not enough to have stereotypical diversity–go deeper–mix old powerbrokers with new voices, large established groups and new innovative grassroots organizations, senior staff and the new intern.

Take a moment to be intentional to ensure that everyone has the opportunity to be heard and that there contributions are recognized and respected.   Sometimes small things make  big difference.

A pinch of cobalt added to a copper carb glaze changes a green into turquoise.

Between Winter and Spring

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The time between seasons–specifically the time between winter and spring–can be hard.  We are ready for daffodils and a bright sun cutting through the sharp blue cold air.  It is time for planting dried peas and opening the bee hives to see if the first nectar is in and queen is laying.  Each day brings a check on the weather and the almost physical yearning to pull aside the mottled straw stems of the phlox and bee balm to see the new growth breaking through the cold ground.  But the temperatures still linger near freezing and the dirty snow melts into a grey muck of a landscape–bare trees and tangled brush, last year’s flower pots in a jumble on a corner of the deck, a scattering of leftover leaves.  It took a brave sparrow landing on the pot of thyme on the top railing, indulging in an organic herbal feast to remind me–spring is budding whorls of tangy sweetness waiting for a discerning eye.