See One. Do One. Teach One.

You know the expression, ‘See One. Do One. Teach One’?

In a medical context the saying always weirded me out a bit. (Like, really? You’re going to stick me with that needle only after seeing it done by someone else a time or two?) But, funny enough, over the last couple of weeks I’ve found a new meaning in this expression, and it has to do with the teaching part.

First, an admission: I really like leading workshops. I may not be a complete extrovert, but leading a workshop – facilitating discussions, working through challenges, seeing lightbulbs igniting over people’s heads and post-its flying in the air – is a guaranteed path to my own personal happy place. At IDEO I had the opportunity to run a number of client workshops on various parts of the OpenIDEO challenge process. Each time I ran a workshop I got a bit smarter, a bit more adept at addressing tricky questions or common hurdles, and a bit savvier at structuring the day so it was fun and productive. Which means that over time I developed a tried and true method for bringing clients through the OpenIDEO process – and I loved it.

Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago when I had the opportunity to lead a half-day design thinking and innovation workshop at the National Archives. Knowing that I’m a workshop person, of course I quickly jumped at the chance – even after I remembered that I’d need to create all my slides and accompanying materials from scratch (since I didn’t have anything from my IDEO days). This, I thought to myself, will be a lot of work. So I sat down and started on my deck.

And it turns out yes, it was a lot of work. But, so much more importantly, it was an opportunity for me to actually learn the content I was teaching. What I realized is that when I was leading OpenIDEO challenges, or even talking with clients about IDEO’s approach to design thinking and innovation, I was representing IDEO – using their stories and their content. Teaching the design thinking approach to a new audience and doing it in my own voice and with my own language really, truly helped me learn it, internalize it, and then share it in ways that I knew would resonate with my audience.

Creating something from scratch – even something that I thought I knew well – pushed me to understand my content more fully and engage with it more deeply. Getting my hands dirty through doing? Awesome.

I spent the next 24 hours after the workshop buzzing with the knowledge that I had just learned and practiced something new and important…and it felt really good. And, in that halo glow of those 24 hours, I actually got offered an opportunity to run the session again, this time for different clients. So I got back on the horse, reopened my slide deck, and set about recreating the wheel.

One week later, I stepped in front of another new audience to teach them what I know. This time around, like the session a week earlier, I didn’t have all the right answers prepped in advance. I didn’t have the best tips for overcoming hurdles on instant recall. Nor did I instinctively know the smartest ways to diffuse a difficult conversation.

Teaching something from scratch – even when it felt untested or uncharted – pushed me to open myself up to even more learning in the moment and to make small course-corrections throughout. Being able to respond to the needs of the room, as they arise? Even more awesome.

And in the process, I experienced the value of learning as I was doing, of challenging myself to know something inside and out through the act of teaching it to others.

See One. Do One. Teach One. I still don’t love it for needles! But in my own work? I’m onboard.

An Evolving Definition of Community

Who knew 'Presidential' was a flavor of cupcake?

When I was in business school, I defined community as a collection of people – consumers especially – who were uniting around causes and missions that they cared about and using their purchasing power and their voices (especially on social media) to effect change in the world. Once I joined IDEO, I began to round out this working definition of community to include location – that is, whether the community exists online or offline – and how that location influences the type of work people can accomplish together.
Over the last 3.5 years with OpenIDEO, my passion for community – and particularly unlocking new ways of supporting communities to collaborate, innovate and see positive change where they live – has deepened and taken on new dimensions that I couldn’t have expected. And I’m very proud to say that my next step – as a Presidential Innovation Fellow in Washington, DC – is helping me continue to round out my understanding of community on a scale that I could have never imagined (Read more about the Presidential Innovation Fellows program and the incredibly talented folks who’ve joined this year’s class).
For my first project, I’ve been paired with an innovative team of strategists and doers at the National Archives and Records Administration. I, along with another PIF, are charged with exploring how crowdsourcing and online community engagement can help NARA accelerate its efforts to expand public, online access to our Nation’s most valuable historical records. It’s no small task when you consider NARA has over 12 billion pages of paper records within its holdings! Yet I’m confident that crowdsourcing, if applied in smart and intentional ways, can quickly and effectively scale this effort.

When I started The Changebase, way back as an MBA student in 2009, I had a hunch that the idea of community – a collection of people united by common experiences, shared values or like-minded goals – would play a large part in my professional career, but I couldn’t have anticipated exactly how.

In business school I defined community as a collection of people – consumers especially – who were uniting around causes and missions that they cared about and then using their purchasing power and their voices to effect change in the world. Once I joined IDEO, I began to round out this working definition of community to include location – that is, whether the community exists online or offline – and how that location influences the type of work people can accomplish together.

Over the last 3.5 years with OpenIDEO, my passion for community – and particularly unlocking new ways of supporting communities to collaborate, innovate and see positive change where they live – has deepened and taken on new dimensions that I couldn’t have expected. And I’m very proud to say that my next step – as a Presidential Innovation Fellow in Washington, DC – is helping me continue to round out my understanding of community on a scale and through a lens that I could have never anticipated (Read more about the Presidential Innovation Fellows Program and the incredibly talented folks I'm lucky to partner with in this year’s class).

For my first project, I’ve been paired with an innovative team of strategists and doers at the National Archives and Records Administration. I, along with another PIF, am charged with exploring how crowdsourcing and online community engagement can help NARA accelerate its efforts to expand public, online access to our nation’s most valuable historical records. It’s no small task when you consider NARA has over 12 billion pages of paper records within its holdings! Yet I’m confident that crowdsourcing, if applied in smart and intentional ways, can quickly and effectively scale this effort.

What will be the tangible outcomes of my time as a Presidential Innovation Fellow? Thankfully I'm only two months into the program, so I don't need to know that answer just yet. But I do know that over the next year I'm looking forward to further evolving my definition of community, this time on a national scale. How might we design citizen services that meet the needs of a community as diverse and complex as the American people? Wish me luck!

The Values We Wear to Work

When you think about the work that you do - the companies you join, the teams you're a part of, even the projects you take on - how often is your approach to that work determined by values?
Sure, a lot of us have chosen to go into work that feels like it aligns with our personal values - but that's not what I mean. Rather, I'm talking about overarching values that either you, your employer or your team have set as guiding principles. If you had to describe the North Star of what you do at work and how you make decisions, what would that star look like and where would it take you?
Recently I had the opportunity to visit the very nice community of Bozeman, Montana and speak on the campus of Montana State. The title of my talk was "Creativity, Design Thinking and the Crowd" and my intention was to talk about how OpenIDEO approaches the intersection of design thinking and crowdsourcing in its own way.
As I prepared my slides and delivered my talk, however, I realized that my talk - more than anything - was an exploration of the values that we hold dear as part of the OpeniDEO team and, by extension, as members of the OpenIDEO community.
In the end, I circled around 10 core values that I believe both steer and ground the work we do:
We’re about people
We design for inclusion
We focus on collaboration, not competition
We speak to different motivations
We invest in framing the question
We use a process
We’re transparent
We design with, not for
We believe in-person matters, too
We leave room for emergence.
Interestingly, having had some time to reflect on the experience of delivering this talk, I'm actually not sure that this list couldn't benefit from some refinement, a couple of additions, and maybe even some edits. Perhaps that’s true with all workplace values – they are subject to change with time and perspective. Regardless of what stage of development they're in, many of the values I’ve outlined in my talk have been true to me for some time and remain that way to me right now, like a badge of honor that I wear proudly everyday at work.
What values do you 'wear to work' each day? Are they codified somewhere in writing, or are they more reflective of an informal, collective mindset that you and your team shares? I'd love to hear what you think.

MontanaState

When you think about the work that you do – the companies you join, the teams you're a part of, even the projects you take on – how often is your approach to that work determined by values?

Sure, a lot of us have chosen to go into work that feels like it aligns with our personal values - but that's not what I mean. Rather, I'm talking about overarching values that either you, your employer or your team have set as guiding principles. If you had to describe the North Star of what you do at work and how you make decisions, what would that star look like and where would it take you?

Recently I had the opportunity to visit the very nice community of Bozeman, Montana and speak on the campus of Montana State. The title of my talk was "Creativity, Design Thinking and the Crowd" and my intention was to talk about how OpenIDEO approaches the intersection of design thinking and crowdsourcing in its own way.

As I prepared my slides and delivered my talk, however, I realized that my presentation – more than anything – was an exploration of the values that we hold dear as part of the OpenIDEO team and, by extension, as members of the OpenIDEO community.

In the end, I circled around 10 core values that I believe currently steer and ground the work we do:

  1. We’re about people
  2. We design for inclusion
  3. We focus on collaboration, not competition
  4. We speak to different motivations
  5. We invest in framing the question
  6. We use a process
  7. We’re transparent
  8. We design with, not for
  9. We believe in-person matters, too
  10. We leave room for emergence.

Interestingly, having had some time to reflect on the experience of delivering this talk, I'm actually not sure that this list couldn't benefit from some refinement, a couple of additions, and maybe even some edits. Perhaps that’s true with all workplace values – they are subject to change with time and perspective. Regardless of what stage of development they're in, many of the values I’ve outlined in my talk have been true to me for some time and remain that way to me right now, like a badge of honor that I wear proudly everyday at work.

What values do you 'wear to work' each day? Are they codified somewhere in writing, or are they more reflective of an informal, collective mindset that you and your team share? I'd love to hear what you think.

Three Lessons from Three Years at OpenIDEO

This February marked my three year anniversary as a member of the OpenIDEO team at IDEO – amazing how the time has flown!
Maybe it's because I'm marking this anniversary, or because our team is growing and I find myself training and coaching new colleagues, but I've started reflecting on how OpenIDEO has evolved over the last few years – and by extension, how I've evolved with it. When I joined OpenIDEO way back when, our platform and our community was less than six months old. We were an exciting new initiative in IDEO's eyes, and yet most of our colleagues weren't quite sure what to make of us. We were small, scrappy and said yes to (almost) everything for the sake of continued learning and growth. We knew enough to be dangerous and had some hunches about where we were headed. But beyond that, the rest was open, white space.
Joining OpenIDEO marked a true departure and a leap of faith for me: prior to IDEO I'd never worked in technology, I'd never been part of a startup, and I'd certainly never imagined I'd join a design company. Even with all of these unknowns, it was a no brainer to jump in with both feet.
One of the cool things about joining OpenIDEO when I did is that I've had the chance to be around long enough to see our efforts grow and blossom. Ironically, in a world of fast-moving, short attention-span startups (and the employees behind them), having some staying-power has enabled me to get mired in the details AND see the forest for the trees, so to speak. As I round out Year 3 and move into Year 4, here are a few highlights of what I've learned and how I've grown so far:
Finding Comfort in Chaos
When I first joined OpenIDEO, I was looking for structure. Ten months into what felt like a topsy-turvy, post-MBA job search that I had no control over, I viewed my IDEO offer letter as the guarantee of stability I was craving. How wrong I was! Instead, what I found was a brand new business with a largely unwritten future. Admittedly, in my first year at IDEO this mismatch was really challenging for me. I often found myself feeling inwardly resistant to conversations or projects that seemed too chaotic, or simply wishing we could have figured out all this messiness already. Everyone talked about things like 'experiments' and 'iteration' – and in truth, at the beginning of my OpenIDEO tenure, I often wanted to run screaming in the other direction.
Being a natural project manager, though, my inner organizer eventually took over and I started creating the structure I needed. In the beginning, this meant nailing things down, making quick decisions and clamping down on anything that felt ambiguous or undecided. Not surprisingly, I wasn't so successful in those early days – not only was that way of working not in line with our cultural and team values, but it wasn't any fun either. Later, I learned to move forward in my work by creating a skeleton outline – just enough structure to give myself a North Star to follow, while also still leaving a bit of room for spontaneity and unexpectedness.
At the time I thought I was just trying to wrap my arms around something to force it to make sense. Now, however, I can now look back and say that the experience of creating something out of nothing, of finding comfort in the chaos, was hugely valuable because it pushed me to do the very thing I was resisting – namely being flexible, not having all the answers from the outset, and learning to be comfortable with iterating along the way.
The beauty of working in a startup – as chaotic as it can be – is that in the chaos, there is possibility. There is growth and movement and fluidity in ways that you don't experience when you're working in a more traditional, 'pre-built' organization. Yes at times it can feel frenetic or unstructured…but strangely enough, this way of working has rubbed off on me. In fact, I can now say that I proudly use words like 'prototype' and 'test' in a sentence! Only this time around, it's not just jargon – I believe it.
Speak Now…or Don't
Prior to joining OpenIDEO, I'd worked in pretty traditional, hierarchical organizations where rank mattered. Where I sat in the food chain not only influenced the work I could do, but it affected the opportunities I had to participate in conversations. Because of this, I got trained (for better or for worse) to often times keep my opinions to myself. When I did speak, I agonized in my head: when was I going to chime in? what would I say? what questions will other people ask and how will I answer? It was exhausting.
One major shift that caught me off guard at IDEO was that suddenly, people wanted to know what I thought about things. Unlike other organizations, OpenIDEO (and IDEO more broadly) has a fairly flat structure and culturally, we value healthy, constructive dialogue and inquiry. This meant that, at any number of times during a day, my teammates, my manager, other folks at IDEO would ask, 'Ashley, what do you think?'. Other times, they wouldn't even bother asking – the expectation was that I would just dive right in.
While this may sound like a breath of fresh air, it was actually very challenging for me. Outside of some impassioned conversations in MBA team rooms, I actually didn't have much practice using my voice. So, when pushed for a point of view on something, I instead turned inward and became speechless. While I'd always thought of myself as an extrovert, every day I sat in a roomful of extroverts who were well-practiced in speaking up – and suddenly the introvert in me switched on.
That's not to say that I didn't have an opinion; in fact I had opinions about everything! I just didn't know how to share them.
Over time, and with the support and coaching of my manager and others, I slowly started practicing speaking up. And believe me, it takes practice. But incredibly, through this practice I don't just feel more comfortable going through the motions of speaking my mind. Instead, I've come to trust even more in the content I have to share. Maybe it's that I've been doing this long enough to have that are rooted in real work and a real understanding of what we do, maybe it's just something I've been practicing long enough that it feels less rehearsed and more spontaneous. Whatever the reason, it's a liberating feeling to have a point of view and feel confident enough to share it.
There's No Substitute for the Real Deal
At OpenIDEO, we're quick to celebrate the online partnerships and virtual teams that form on our platform. After all, we're an online tool – which means 99.9% of what our community does is online too.
For our team at IDEO, the same is true: our 10-person group is actually made up of a collection of people across multiple locations: the U.S., the U.K., New Zealand, even Eastern Europe. Amazingly, there isn't actually one time during the day when we can all get on a phone call together. At first this was incredibly frustrating and felt agonizingly slow (even now, when the phone or video connection is poor, it's easy to want to pull your hair out). But as they say, necessity is the mother of invention – and working as part of a virtual team means getting creative. Whether it's finding new tools to support our online brainstorming sessions or establishing new rituals that support our team to form bonds across time zones, we're definitely seeing some advantages to working this way.
My sense is the trend these days is to further shift the balance toward virtual teams – and I'll admit that it's a skill I've worked hard to acquire. Nonetheless, one final learning from the last three years is that there really is no substitute for the 'real deal'; that is, in-person, face-to-face connections and collaborations. On the OpenIDEO community side, we're starting to see incredible traction when community members take their efforts 'offline' and continue their collaborations locally as a team. You can check out some great examples here. And for our team, we're all starting to coalesce around the idea that certain projects 'live' in certain locations. It helps us focus, it means that projects can move forward more quickly, and it gives each local team the chance to form an identity and a bond.
It's funny to look back on the last three years and wonder whether these lessons have been ones unique to working at a place like IDEO, or whether I'd have caught up to them at some point somewhere else. I'm not much of a risk taker, but I can say now that I jumped into IDEO with both feet – even though I had no idea what I was getting into.
One more note: even though these are lessons I've learned, I'll admit I still have to practice them everyday. At times I still struggle in chaos, lose my voice or miss feeling an in-person connection. Some days are easier than others. Three years in, though, I'm thankful for the journey and learning so far – and I'm excited to see what the lessons are in Year 4!

A desk with a view

This February marked my three year anniversary as a member of the OpenIDEO team at IDEO – amazing how the time has flown!

Maybe it's because I'm marking this anniversary, or because our team is growing and I find myself training and coaching new colleagues, but I've started reflecting on how OpenIDEO has evolved over the last few years – and by extension, how I've evolved with it. When I joined OpenIDEO way back when, our platform and our community was less than six months old. We were an exciting new initiative in IDEO's eyes, and yet most of our colleagues weren't quite sure what to make of us. We were small, scrappy and said yes to (almost) everything for the sake of continued learning and growth. We knew enough to be dangerous and had some hunches about where we were headed. But beyond that, the rest was open, white space.

Joining OpenIDEO marked a true departure and a leap of faith for me: prior to IDEO I'd never worked in technology, I'd never been part of a startup, and I'd certainly never imagined I'd join a design company. Even with all of these unknowns, it was a no brainer to jump in with both feet.

One of the cool things about joining OpenIDEO when I did is that I've had the chance to be around long enough to see our efforts grow and blossom. Ironically, in a world of fast-moving, short attention-span startups (and the employees behind them), having some staying-power has enabled me to get mired in the details AND see the forest for the trees, so to speak. As I round out Year 3 and move into Year 4, here are a few highlights of what I've learned and how I've grown so far:

Finding Comfort in Chaos

When I first joined OpenIDEO, I was looking for structure. Ten months into what felt like a topsy-turvy, post-MBA job search that I had no control over, I viewed my IDEO offer letter as the guarantee of stability I was craving. How wrong I was! Instead, what I found was a brand new business with a largely unwritten future. Admittedly, in my first year at IDEO this mismatch was really challenging for me. I often found myself feeling inwardly resistant to conversations or projects that seemed too chaotic, or simply wishing we could have figured out all this messiness already. Everyone talked about things like 'experiments' and 'iteration' – and in truth, at the beginning of my OpenIDEO tenure, I often wanted to run screaming in the other direction.

Being a natural project manager, though, my inner organizer eventually took over and I started creating the structure I needed. In the beginning, this meant nailing things down, making quick decisions and clamping down on anything that felt ambiguous or undecided. Not surprisingly, I wasn't so successful in those early days – not only was that way of working not in line with our cultural and team values, but it wasn't any fun either. Later, I learned to move forward in my work by creating a skeleton outline – just enough structure to give myself a North Star to follow, while also still leaving a bit of room for spontaneity and unexpectedness.

At the time I thought I was just trying to wrap my arms around something to force it to make sense. Now, however, I can now look back and say that the experience of creating something out of nothing, of finding comfort in the chaos, was hugely valuable because it pushed me to do the very thing I was resisting – namely being flexible, not having all the answers from the outset, and learning to be comfortable with iterating along the way.

The beauty of working in a startup – as chaotic as it can be – is that in the chaos, there is possibility. There is growth and movement and fluidity in ways that you don't experience when you're working in a more traditional, 'pre-built' organization. Yes at times it can feel frenetic or unstructured…but strangely enough, this way of working has rubbed off on me. In fact, I can now say that I proudly use words like 'prototype' and 'test' in a sentence! Only this time around, it's not just jargon – I believe it.

Speak Now…or Don't

Prior to joining OpenIDEO, I'd worked in pretty traditional, hierarchical organizations where rank mattered. Where I sat in the food chain not only influenced the work I could do, but it affected the opportunities I had to participate in conversations. Because of this, I got trained (for better or for worse) to often times keep my opinions to myself. When I did speak, I agonized in my head: when was I going to chime in? what would I say? what questions will other people ask and how will I answer? It was exhausting.

One major shift that caught me off guard at IDEO was that suddenly, people wanted to know what I thought about things. Unlike other organizations, OpenIDEO (and IDEO more broadly) has a fairly flat structure and culturally, we value healthy, constructive dialogue and inquiry. This meant that, at any number of times during a day, my teammates, my manager, other folks at IDEO would ask, 'Ashley, what do you think?'. Other times, they wouldn't even bother asking – the expectation was that I would just dive right in.

While this may sound like a breath of fresh air, it was actually very challenging for me. Outside of some impassioned conversations in MBA team rooms, I actually didn't have much practice using my voice. So, when pushed for a point of view on something, I instead turned inward and became speechless. While I'd always thought of myself as an extrovert, every day I sat in a roomful of extroverts who were well-practiced in speaking up – and suddenly the introvert in me switched on.

That's not to say that I didn't have an opinion; in fact I had opinions about everything! I just didn't know how to share them.

Over time, and with the support and coaching of my manager and others, I slowly started practicing speaking up. And believe me, it takes practice. But incredibly, through this practice I don't just feel more comfortable going through the motions of speaking my mind. Instead, I've come to trust even more in the content I have to share. Maybe it's that I've been doing this long enough to have opinions that are rooted in real work and a real understanding of what we do, maybe it's just something I've been practicing long enough that it feels less rehearsed and more spontaneous. Whatever the reason, it's a liberating feeling to have a point of view and feel confident enough to share it.

There's No Substitute for the Real Deal

At OpenIDEO, we're quick to celebrate the online partnerships and virtual teams that form on our platform. After all, we're an online tool – which means 99.9% of what our community does is online too.

For our team at IDEO, the same is true: our 10-person group is actually made up of a collection of people across multiple locations: the U.S., the U.K., New Zealand, even Eastern Europe. Amazingly, there isn't actually one time during the day when we can all get on a phone call together. At first this was incredibly frustrating and felt agonizingly slow (even now, when the phone or video connection is poor, it's easy to want to pull your hair out). But as they say, necessity is the mother of invention – and working as part of a virtual team means getting creative. Whether it's finding new tools to support our online brainstorming sessions or establishing new rituals that support our team to form bonds across time zones, we're definitely seeing some advantages to working this way.

My sense is the trend these days is to further shift the balance toward virtual teams – and I'll admit that it's a skill I've worked hard to acquire. Nonetheless, one final learning from the last three years is that there really is no substitute for the 'real deal'; that is, in-person, face-to-face connections and collaborations. On the OpenIDEO community side, we're starting to see incredible traction when community members take their efforts 'offline' and continue their collaborations locally as a team. You can check out some great examples here. And for our team, we're all starting to coalesce around the idea that certain projects 'live' in certain locations. It helps us focus, it means that projects can move forward more quickly, and it gives each local team the chance to form an identity and a bond.

It's funny to look back on the last three years and wonder whether these lessons have been ones unique to working at a place like IDEO, or whether I'd have caught up to them at some point somewhere else. However they came to me, and even though I call these my lessons learned, I'll admit I still have to practice them everyday. At times I still struggle in chaos, lose my voice or miss feeling an in-person connection. Some days are easier than others. Three years in, though, I'm thankful for the journey and learning so far – and I'm excited to see what the lessons are in Year 4!

Change Starts at Home

The Jablows

Change starts at home
I realized recently that it's been a year since I last wrote on The Changebase. While I don't like to make excuses, I think I've got a pretty good one: motherhood. In January 2013, my husband and I welcomed our wonderful little boy. Little did we know what a journey we were about to embark on.
Over the course of my first nine months as a parent, I've reflected often on the topic of community. When I started this blog, I set my focus and intentions around communities of change – high impact, innovative people and organizations doing great work out in the world. When I went on maternity leave last December, my own personal community of change was redefined, becoming infinitely smaller, tighter and ultimately much more meaningful than I could have imagined.
I've always believed in the 'it takes a village to raise a child' mentality, and I've learned firsthand that my child is truly a village baby. We're incredibly lucky that our inner circle of family and friends have stepped up and supported our little baby and our little family during this daunting, scary and amazing time of transition and change. There's no way we could have grown into the happy trio we now are without the love and support of our greater community.
This past weekend I went to the Net Impact conference in San Jose and spent much of my time there continuing to reflect. Last year at the conference I was 7 months pregnant; now I am mother to an almost one-year old! And yet, like always I felt wrapped up in the warm arms of that incredible community.
The theme of the conference was Change Starts Here. Each of the keynotes focused on various elements required to create lasting change: leadership, a network, dialogue, an idea. As I sat in the keynotes and many of the sessions, I thought about the kind of change I want to create in the world, and what I need in order to get there. Like any new mom, I face the internal (and sometimes very visible, external) struggle of balancing my career aspirations and dreams with an almost-primal urge to soak up every moment I can with my son. Let's just say that while the conversation about work-life balance for working moms has been carrying on for decades, all of a sudden it feels very relevant to me.
What I'm learning is there's no resolution, no end-point to this conversation. Rather than a period, it's a comma – or maybe a run-on sentence that twists and turns and never lets you know where it's going. Some days work feels like my #1, my purpose and my focus. But then I come home, racing in the front door in time for playtime and bath time, and I think to myself: how could I possibly miss this? What could ever be more important than this moment, right here and now?
In the end, I'm starting to see that there's a ebb and flow to this new way of living. A give and take between any number of identities that I hold true and core to me, to Ashley. I'm a mom – and I love being a mom. I'm a professional – and I find fulfillment through working. And I'm lots of things in between. Sometimes one part of me shines through more than the others, but these parts of me are always there. Working in tandem to make up the whole.
No where was this more evident than at Net Impact's three-day conference. For two of those days, I poured myself into the schedule, the networking and the learning. I was inspired and energized, and eagerly awaiting day 3. Yet as I pulled into my driveway at the end of a long second day, I turned inward and asked myself, "if I could do anything tomorrow, what would it be"? The answer rang loud and clear: family. So, on day 3 of Net Impact – while my twitter feed hummed with conference insights and learning from just down the road – I stayed home with my son and husband for some time together. And it was a great day.
When I think about where change starts and how it happens, I agree: it starts with leadership and networks and a big idea. But in my definition of change, it also starts with my family. I'm not yet sure exactly what my mark on the world will be, or how I'll create my own community of change, but I do know that investing in my son, helping him grow into the person he's meant to be and building a community around him is one big way I'll get there. Change may start in many ways, but sometimes – in my world – it starts at home.

I realized recently that it's been a year since I last wrote on The Changebase. While I don't like to make excuses, I think I've got a pretty good one: motherhood. In January 2013, my husband and I welcomed our wonderful little boy. Little did we know what a journey we were about to embark on.

Over the course of my first nine months as a parent, I've reflected often on the topic of community. When I started this blog, I set my focus and intentions around communities of change – high impact, innovative people and organizations doing great work out in the world. When I went on maternity leave last December, my own personal community of change was redefined, becoming stronger, tighter and ultimately much more meaningful than I could have imagined.

I've always believed in the 'it takes a village to raise a child' mentality, and I've learned firsthand that my child is truly a village baby. We're incredibly lucky that our inner circle of family and friends have stepped up and supported our little family during this daunting, scary and amazing time of transition and change. There's no way we could have grown into the happy trio we now are without the love and support of our greater community.

This past weekend I went to the Net Impact conference in San Jose and spent much of my time there continuing to reflect. Last year at the conference I was 7 months pregnant; now I am mother to an almost one year-old! And yet, like always I felt wrapped up in the warm arms of that incredible community.

The theme of the conference was Change Starts Here. Each of the keynotes focused on various elements required to create lasting change: leadership, a network, dialogue, an idea. As I sat in the keynotes and many of the sessions, I thought about the kind of change I want to create in the world, and what I need in order to get there. Like any new mom, I face the internal (and sometimes very visible, external) struggle of balancing my career aspirations and dreams with an almost-primal urge to soak up every moment I can with my son. Let's just say that while the conversation about work-life balance for working moms has been carrying on for decades, all of a sudden it feels very relevant to me.

What I'm learning is there's no resolution, no end-point to this conversation. Rather than a period, it's a comma – or maybe a run-on sentence that twists and turns and never lets you know where it's going. Some days work feels like my #1, my purpose and my focus. But then I come home, racing in the front door in time for playtime and bath time, and I think to myself: how could I possibly miss this? What could ever be more important than this moment, right here and now?

In the end, I'm starting to see that there's a ebb and flow to this new way of living. A give and take between any number of identities that I hold true and core to me, to Ashley. I'm a mom – and I love being a mom. I'm a professional – and I find fulfillment through working. And I'm lots of things in between. Sometimes one part of me shines through more than the others, but these parts of me are always there. Working in tandem to make up the whole.

No where was this more evident than at Net Impact's three-day conference. For two of those days, I poured myself into the schedule, the networking and the learning. I was inspired and energized, and eagerly awaiting day 3. Yet as I pulled into my driveway at the end of a long second day, I turned inward and asked myself, "if I could do anything tomorrow, what would it be"? The answer rang loud and clear: family. So, on day 3 of Net Impact – while my twitter feed hummed with conference insights and learning from just down the road – I stayed home with my son and husband for some time together. And it was a great day.

When I think about where change starts and how it happens, I agree: it starts with leadership and networks and a big idea. But in my definition of change, it also starts with my family. I'm not yet sure exactly what my mark on the world will be, or ultimately how I'll create my own community of change. But I do know that investing in my son, helping him grow into the person he's meant to be and building a community around him is one big way I'll get there. Change may start in many ways, but sometimes – in my world – it starts at home.