During the past few months, we have passed other milestones with some staff changes. When wonderful people find their way into my life, I feel quite blessed. As someone who is a builder at heart, I like the feeling of resources coming together to achieve common goals. I freely expend lots of my life energy as an agent of change, but when relationships take on a new form or appear to fade, I sometimes find that I am reluctant to embrace the change. I find myself feeling mixed emotions. Sure, there is the part of me that wants to walk my talk and simply bless someone’s new journey, perhaps knowing that in many ways I have helped make that possible. I can think about making space in my life for other relationships. I also know that I’ll have an ally in another realm. But there is another part of me that dreads the uncertainty of change and the sometimes awkward dance during which a new acquaintance becomes a trusted ally. I had been planning a rather large undertaking when staff changes were announced at the beginning of the year. The most difficult time for me is when change is known and the choices are not clear. This situation could have precipitated a time of liberation and great creativity for me. Instead, I sometimes let my mind wander into bleaker scenarios, and end up feeling that just when everything was going along fine, someone pulled the rug out from under me. Today, my staffing has been re-established and I can see the situation more objectively. When I review my past, I find plenty of examples of special people who found their way into my life. Likely by the time you read this, Steve McCardell, our reviews editor for the past year, and his wife, Ana, will have left Seattle to start their family in Michigan. His relationship with The New Times started out in late summer 1999, when he sent us an e-mail offering to volunteer for us. I didn’t feel like I had the resources to jointly develop a work plan, conduct training, and supervise a volunteer position at the time. For several months, Steve’s e-mail received an icy "no response." I finally made contact with Steve, and assigned him the task of helping David, our editor. We loved his work. He loved our work. In the ensuing months, we had a vacancy, and I offered Steve a full-time position. He has been a tremendous asset to us as someone who efficiently takes care of the many details behind the scenes of our operations. I have spent hours brainstorming everything from esoteric concepts to mundane details with him. We have gotten excited mapping out possibilities for the future of The New Times and developing ways to make our work more effective. We have a staffing plan in place to make sure that what has been his work continues to be done, and I am thrilled with the job that Claudia is doing. Right now, though, as I have with others before him, I find myself reflecting on the time when Steve and I connected to serve an important purpose. I think about the problems he helped solve, the innovations that he helped implement, and the ways The New Times benefited from his time here. In some ways he, like many others who have worked at The New Times or have been important in other areas of my life, has been like a booster rocket that helped propel me and my work from one point to another. These people contributed until their mission was accomplished. Of course, I wanted more of a good thing and felt saddened when the time ended. I think of my own time here at The New Times, and know that it, too, is finite. I certainly couldn’t have done my work here without the groundwork of the previous publisher, who manifested The New Times from a mere thought. Likewise, I am laying the groundwork for someone to steward The New Times on the next leg of her journey. So, in sort of an unwritten partnership, serendipity works to accomplish important work with a team of relay runners, runners who may never know who or even if anyone will complete the task, but who are committed to their part of the mission, and who will enjoy their individual journeys. Many of you know Steve’s great work from the many thoughtful reviews that he’s written for us. Although he will certainly be missed, I hope that his writings will continue to find their way onto our pages and take pleasure in knowing that The New Times will have another set of eyes and ears in Michigan. As a reader of The New Times, your relationship to The New Times had a beginning and will have an end, too. I appreciate that you are here now, and I sincerely hope that your time with The New Times will enrich your life as much and in as many ways as it has — and does — mine. |
This issue marks the beginning of The New Times’ 17th year. Only about 15 percent of the monthly periodicals launched in 1985 still exist, so for every successful New Times, there are six other publications that no longer exist. This is a challenging business. I’d like to thank our writers, advertisers, subscribers, and the readers who patronize our advertisers for continuing to make this publication possible by helping to create win-win energy exchanges.