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Tag Archives: wisconsin

The Bowl Game Names I Want to See

05 Thursday Jan 2017

Posted by Ann S. in Musings

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Badgers, Bowl Games, Bucky, Campbell's, College Football, Cotton Bowl, Dole, Football, Goodyear, Kellogg's, Kibbles n Bits, Kitchenaid, Liquid Plumber, marketing, musings, names, Orange Bowl, sponsorships, Willy Wonka, wisconsin

While watching my beloved Wisconsin Badgers win the Cotton Bowl on Monday – Go Bucky! – I remembered when bowl game names actually made sense in the connection of companies and locations that sponsored them. The Cotton Bowl name still fits the location since Texas is/was the largest producer of Cotton but it’s sponsored by Goodyear. I don’t think of anything soft and fluffy – not even the blimp – when I think of Goodyear.

College football is undoubtedly big business and corporate sponsorship and the names of bowl games change year to year. Didn’t Sunkist sponsor the Orange Bowl at one time? Then FedEx? Then Discover? Well, Sunkist was perfect match with King Orange, but now it’s the Capitol One Orange Bowl. Maybe Capital One should sponsor the Spare Change Bowl and leave the fruit sponsorship to the citrus farmers.

So on that note, here is a list of bowl game names I’d like to see that make sense in terms of product + bowls:

Campbell’s Soup Bowl
Dole’s Fruit Bowl
Blue Bunny’s Ice Cream Bowl
Kellogg’s Cereal Bowl
Liquid Plumber Toilet Bowl
Kitchenaid Mixing Bowl
Willy Wonka Candy Bowl
Kibbles N Bits Dog Bowl

Any bowl names you can add? Please put them in the comments.

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Figments and Fragments

21 Thursday May 2015

Posted by Ann S. in Musings, The Technical Side

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complete sentences, map, noun, public speaking, Real Housewives, Real Housewives of Orange County, sentence fragments, speaking, speechwriters, technical writing, verb, wisconsin, writing

I hate to hear myself recorded. Unfortunately for me, I interview people for articles and have to listen to myself when transcribing notes and information. Cringeworthy!

fragment but when i doOne, I can’t stop hearing my native-Wisconsin nasal tone which comes through loud and clear, especially in contrast when I’m interviewing Southerners. I try to get away from the accent, but the tonal quality is ingrained.

Two, I really need to speak more like I write. Sometimes my sentences are fragments without both the necessary noun and verb.

My only consolation is I’m not alone. If we were to record ourselves speaking, we no doubt discover we speak quite differently than how we write. In composing memos, articles and presentations, we typically construct the work with a beginning, middle, and end. We include supporting subpoints and information. We work toward a logical conclusion that may summarize, reinforce or assign tasks.

sentences-fragments-runons-combining-7-728However, when it comes to our daily speak, we (myself included) don’t always follow the rules of cohesion. How many times have you overheard a group at another table and thought (not just because they’re discussing the Real Housewives of Orange County but rather the way they speak), “wow – they sound stupid!” Maybe it’s their word choice, perhaps their sentence structures, or just the inability to present a concept. No doubt I have been on the receiving end of that comment.

Sometimes the words just do not come out as intelligently as I hoped.

There are also times I thought, “Boy, I wish I could map this conversation to see just how far off base I travelled.” If I were to edit my daily conversations, I would probably remove about 50%, most of which is fluff or unnecessary details.

Effective speechwriters do a great job, which makes the speaker seem exceptional. Each sentence is crafted as coherently and completely as possible. My goal is work on my daily speak – to make the most of the words I choose to use and the content I discuss. And, hopefully, by editing my language as I go, I can be a quieter but more impactful person as well.

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Moving Gave Me Lots of Bruises.

21 Thursday Aug 2014

Posted by Ann S. in Musings

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

basements, books, boxes, charity, cross-country, downsizing, family, friends, homesick, move, moving, musings, networking, north carolina, photo albums, readers, relocation, throttle, wisconsin, yoga

Moving didn’t kill me but it gave me lots of bruises.

Completing a cross-country move is exhausting. I won’t sugarcoat it. During all the cleaning, packing, more cleaning and unpacking, I sweated more than doing hot yoga. When moving boxes, furniture and anything else that needed hoisting, I bruised more than if I had participated in the Tough Mudder. And when all the little things that pop up and become really big annoying things, I probably swore enough to make a hardcore trucker blush.

But moving was also cathartic. Maybe I can say that now because my new household is unpacked and organized. I no longer have to relax on an air mattress on the floor.

A while back, I posted a blog about having too much stuff (http://wp.me/p28T80-bg). I had noticed many people in my subdivision could not park in their garages because their homes were filled to the eaves with stuff in the basement, attic and parking areas. Well, moving to a location where basements are virtually non-existent provides an even more disciplined approach to downsizing. As a friend who lives nearby told me, “If we don’t use it, we get rid of it. We can’t afford to keep extra stuff.”

Even the smaller boxes didn't make the mover happy about all the books!

Even the smaller boxes didn’t make the mover happy about all the books!

It was a tough exercise to weed out what really wasn’t necessary to make my life worth living, especially in a new geographic area where I’m not really sure what to expect. I won’t lie and say I’ve tossed out everything I should, but I made a good dent. Of course, some things I simply won’t part with, like photo albums. And as one of the movers lugged box after box of books up to my office, he was overheard muttering exasperatingly, “I hate readers.” I felt bad for him, but only for a little while. When I look at the books on my shelves now, it’s as if friends and familiar faces surround me.

Ultimately, the most important part of this move is the intangibles. One is my family who has already come to visit and help me feel a little less homesick for the town and state I have lived in all my life. The other is the reason I moved here in the first place and, while I felt like throttling him a few times during the move, thankfully I didn’t follow through and we’re happily exploring the new area. (By the way, I am absolutely certain he felt the same way as well.) I’m an outgoing person, and the good news is I’m always connected to my friends, no matter where I’m geographically located. Just like when conducting business with clients in Europe or associates in China, telecommunications links us together.

I’m looking forward to discovering this part of the country and expanding my network with new friends and associates. All it took was a cross-country move to make this happen.

 

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Answering the Call to Serve

26 Thursday Sep 2013

Posted by Ann S. in Writings

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alumnae, Alverno College, community, feature article, illinois, Layton Boulevard West Neighbors, Milwaukee, nonprofit, ozanam house, passion, Reedsburg, rockford, School Sisters of St. Francis, serving others, volunteer, wisconsin, Womanspace

This article appears in the Fall 2013 issue of Alverno College’s Alverno Magazine. Written by Ann Stawski.

alverno volunteer article wordle

Local Community: Answering the Call to Serve

Volunteers are the lifeblood of any organization, but before the recruitment process begins, there has to be someone with a vision who is committed to develop the endeavor and set the wheels in motion.

Four such visionaries impassioned about a cause and willing to make a difference are Pat Wilde ’61, Anne Taveirne ’68, Sr. Dorothy Bock ’50 and Sr. Elaine Hirschenberger ’65.

These ambitious women did not plan their educations for careers in the non-profit sector nor dream they would establish such an organization. However, inspired by rights activities in the 1960s and 1970s, these visionaries were passionate and motivated. They identified needs within their local communities and took the necessary steps that led to the launch of three successful nonprofit organizations.

In My Backyard

Anne Taveirne ’68 surmised that creating a local initiative would help address problematic changes in her culturally diverse community. “We saw there were problems in the neighborhood to our east, and we did not want to wait to react until the problems reached us,” said Taveirne, founder of the Layton Boulevard West Neighbors, Inc. (LBWN).

A former School Sister of St. Francis (SSSF), Taveirne first gained experience with nonprofits when she accepted a challenge to be placed with a Milwaukee neighborhood right after the closure of the parish school. The SSSF team called itself “Walker Point House.” They collaborated with neighbors to organize activities–including a local newspaper–until avenues of funding ended and the project closed. A few years later, Taveirne’s superiors approached her to assist in planning the 75th anniversary celebrations for the School Sisters of St. Francis chapel and motherhouse, located on Milwaukee’s south side and directly west of the Walker Point House area.

Taveirne knew problems were headed to the neighborhood and envisioned her work and that of the sisters could be larger than just the anniversary celebration.

In 1993, the first neighborhood outreach event was an ice cream social where residents gathered and toured the chapel and motherhouse grounds and buildings. It was the first step in uniting the community. Soon after, a small group of sisters formed a planning team and canvassed the streets, talking with residents about the strengths, weaknesses and opportunities of their neighborhood. “It was a slow build, but the community understood the need we identified. Ten sisters each brought one neighbor to the first meeting. One year later the number of neighbors attending jumped to 50. This was much more hands-on than just helping, directing or contributing. This was local to what the people needed and they responded.”

Ann Taveirne, founder of LBWN

Ann Taveirne, founder of LBWN

Taveirne says she was drawn to non-profit work because of people. “I saw people struggling alone. Their children were without activities to keep them busy while they were coping with disruptive behavior on the street. I wanted to find ways to bring people together to make better things happen for themselves. It is so rewarding to see people taking charge.”

Soon V.I.S.I.O.N. — Volunteers in Service In Our Neighborhood – formally organized the community’s involvement. Eventually the program evolved into LBWN, a non-profit community development organization dedicated to revitalizing three of Milwaukee’s south side neighborhoods. LBWN established a foundation of volunteers, creating networks of communication to coordinate neighborhood activities that created a sense of community among neighborhood stakeholders.

“The success didn’t happen right away, but the sisters and neighbors were persistent. We saw what was going on locally and took small and large steps so people could make a difference before the neighborhood began to decline.”

The success of the program is evident today. Because of LBWN’s activities and initiatives, the neighborhood is a vibrant area where homes are well-kept and neighbors come together for cleanups. Community events showcase the neighborhood pride: children post photos on the website, there is an annual Breakfast with Santa Claus and new businesses continue to develop. In 2006, the Layton Boulevard West Neighborhood became one of Milwaukee’s first five ‘Healthy Neighborhoods,’ an initiative established by the Greater Milwaukee Foundation. Being a Healthy Neighborhood acknowledges the strategy in which neighbors and business owners work together to emphasize the neighborhood’s strengths and amenities.

These days Taveirne has stepped back from her duties with LBWN and is running her own small business working with the elderly. She is proud LBWN continues to thrive and meet the changing needs of the community. “If you have a passion for something and you see a problem, start trying to figure out who can help solve it. Then things start to happen and you need to be willing to listen, to work together, to be ready to act, and find funding and resources.”

Give Me Shelter

“My mother’s advice was ‘always help those who need to be helped,’” said Pat Wilde ’61, founder of the Ozanam House/Safe Harbor Homeless Shelter, a women and children’s shelter located in Reedsburg, Wis. Wilde was a high school and college chemistry teacher in Illinois before moving to rural Wisconsin with her husband, Bill. There they discovered a surprising level of homelessness and poverty.

Wilde saw an opportunity to provide temporary shelter to women and children who had landed on hard times, as well as provide tools and resources to help them achieve independence. Wilde and her team did not have formal training or experience running a shelter, but they were determined to succeed. First, they studied how other shelters operated and then adapted rules and regulations.

“I had a lot to learn. In an endeavor like this, you take a few steps ahead and fall back a few, but you always keep moving forward.” Wilde worked with local organizations, churches, youth groups and municipalities to develop the organization’s message. This generated community awareness and garnered support.

Volunteers at the Ozanam House

Volunteers at the Ozanam House

With the help of the St. Vincent DePaul Society, Wilde led the purchase of a home for the shelter. With donated financial resources, more than 100 volunteers from her church and other churches and corporations, the Reedsburg community renovated the building. When the Ozanam House opened in 2007, its mission was simple: to empower residents to become confident, independent, stable and productive members of society. In 2010, the shelter was renamed Safe Harbor and began to operate independently. Safe Harbor is a nonprofit that relies solely on fundraising, individual and corporate donations. It does not receive any state or federal funding.

In its first year, the shelter accommodated 12 women. In 2012, it assisted 39 women and 25 children. “We developed a strict admissions policy and implemented goal setting with weekly assessments. We wanted our community to succeed, and so we provided assistance for income, budgeting, agencies, life skills and parenting courses.”

Although Wilde turned over the operation’s reins a few years ago, she continues to alert others to its existence, supports fundraising events and donates to the upkeep. She is immensely proud of the shelter’s staff and volunteers and their positive impact on the community and those served. “When you go into a career, it’s important to make a difference. You go with your heart,” said Wilde. “One way to do that is to help those who have the greatest need. At the same time you’ll find you probably get more out of it then you’re giving.”

The Center of the Web

Starting a non-profit doesn’t mean doing it alone. And if you lead with another person for 38 years, there has to be camaraderie to sustain the relationship through the decades. “We’re yin and yang,” said Sr. Elaine Hirschenberger ’65 of her counterpart, Sr. Dorothy Bock ‘50. “Each time we take a personality or style test it confirms we are polar opposites. But it’s those complementary skills, talents and interests that allow us to work so well together.”

Sr. Bock and Sr. Hirschenberger, founders of Womanspace

Sr. Bock and Sr. Hirschenberger, founders of Womanspace

That relationship has certainly served well the community of Rockford, Ill., where Bock and Hirschenberger founded Womanspace in 1975. Womanspace is an interfaith center, directed toward promoting women’s spirituality with emphasis on the arts, psychological well-being and holistic health. The genesis of Womanspace actually occurred during the time Bock and Hirschenberger spent as undergraduates at Alverno College. Each woman found the college’s initiative of empowering women inspirational. However, it wasn’t until they were both teaching in the humanities department at Driscoll High School in Illinois where they conceptualized the idea of Womanspace.

Their dream was to provide a place to empower women through art and creativity. Then they got practical.

They spoke with their School Sisters of St. Francis community and then other groups in Rockford to explore the vision for a women’s center. Finding affirmation for the concept, they then spoke with people already doing non-profit work, and began cultivating relationships with like-minded people who were concerned with their mission and goals.

“If you can draw a picture of your organization, you can bring it into being,” said Hirschenberger. “Every time we draw Womanspace, it is a circular model with extensions that radiate out, looking very much like a web. The thing that never changes is the core center.” Adds Bock, “It’s the same for people. If a woman is deeply in touch with her own center, she can then reach out in a healthy and creative way to others. Our logo is a web for that very reason.”

Womanspace started out small in a rented, two room office. Because it had no meeting space, the center’s first large programs were held throughout the Rockford community in any venue that would welcome them – churches, schools and businesses. Through that initial outreach, Womanspace developed solid partnerships and community support. It has never been funded by any outside group but instead operates on membership dues, donations and fees for the services and programs offered. Over the years, Womanspace has impacted 30,000 individuals.

“Today we own a 10-room building, an adjacent teaching studio and galleries, and seven beautiful acres. We have several gardens, a large labyrinth that attracts many visitors, and a new outdoor pavilion,” said Hirschenberger. During a recent garden walk featuring the award-winning Womanspace gardens, more than 200 people visited the space for the first time and experienced the peace and unity the organization brings to the community.

Pottery in motion at Womanspace

Pottery in motion at Womanspace

Womanspace continues to evolve through innovative ideas and programs, and offers curriculum and services that are fresh and unique. “To support and encourage the many talented artists in Womanspace, we created our Gallery2Go gift shop,” said Hirschenberger. Gallery2Go offers unique creations by more than 40 artists, and won Womanspace an innovation award from the Northern Illinois Center for Non-Profit Excellence.

Bock and Hirschenberger never anticipated they would lead such a successful non-profit program, but together they always believed they could make a difference. Both continue to serve at Womanspace: Hirschenberger as Executive Director and Bock as Development Director. “When you choose a new career, you have to follow the inner-core of your own passion. First take care of yourself and your health, but continue to serve. Your work needs to be part of your own heart and soul,” said Bock. “It’s a fluid model for leadership, one that adjusts and harmonizes to the individual and the cause.”

Starting a non-profit service can be a circuitous route – no one ever starts or ends at the same place, but the mission is always front and center. These three organizations were created by women identifying needs in the community and then taking action.

Running a non-profit is about helping people take charge of their own lives, their education or their neighborhoods. It’s about using passion to enhance a community and then discovering the rewards. Not everyone starts out knowing exactly where their career will take them, but as these four Alverno alumnae discovered, where they landed is just about the happiest place on earth.

# # #

This article appears in the Fall 2013 edition of Alverno Magazine. For more photos and information, visit the magazine’s website at:  http://www.alverno.edu/magazineonline/

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What Do You Know?

06 Thursday Jun 2013

Posted by Ann S. in Musings

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Bar, Chequamagon, cousins, friend, memories, memory, musings, Slovak, tavern, toe jam, wisconsin, writing

Memories are tricky. A few weeks ago, I was asked what I remembered as my earliest memory. I sat and pondered, sweeping at the cobwebbed corners of my brain to find the tail string of that elusive first remembered experience. I struggled but couldn’t pinpoint one specific day, time or event as the first memory, but I could imagine a series of childhood objects and situations. Things like the bedroom I shared with my brother and listening to him experience night terrors while my parents rushed to our room to calm and soothe him. Or taking afternoon naps after my mother pulled the shades tight, clasped the curtains together and tucked me under the covers. Or sitting at the white Formica kitchen table in the high backed vinyl covered chairs, eating a breakfast of custardy farina cereal out of Corning Ware dishes. My memory hops and jumps from spot to spot and I’m not exactly sure which event happened first, but I think it was all around the same time. I trust my memory in the sense that I know all this happened to me.

I have a friend who, I’ve discovered over the years, will tell stories that are not hers. It took a while to figure this out – it was the day she told me a particular crazy story and I blurted out that it didn’t happen to her, but to me! I was appalled. I felt betrayed. I was disappointed. I had laughed, cried, questioned and supported her through so many tales, and suddenly I was left wondering it if was all a façade. Was there any truth to any of it? Did any of the stories belong to her? It took some time, but I finally learned to sit back and enjoy the tales she continued to tell, always certain the story belonged to someone else. I think she does this because the incidents or people are so appealing and interesting that perhaps she wishes it belonged to her. **************

There’s a tiny little bar along Highway H in Mason, Wis., that’s been in operation for years. It’s directly across the road from the farmstead my grandmother’s family founded sometime around 1901. Mason is a small farming community located between Delta and Ino townships on the edge of the Chequamagon National Forest in Bayfield County. It’s a beautiful area where the earth is tinged red with clay and the pine trees grow tall and thin. My grandmother and her eight siblings were raised in a five-bedroom farmhouse complete with a summer kitchen, barn, tool shed and hundreds of acres. It was known as the Homestead and still stands today, although in a well-worn state. The small community was founded mostly by Slovaks who immigrated to the U.S. because the countryside and farmland were reminiscent of their homeland. I’m not certain what ancestry Frosty Munson descended, from but he was a colorful swatch in the fabric of the community.

Frosty Munson ran his bar – simply named “Frosty’s” – for years. Frosty’s never changed. Off the beaten path and often passed by tourists travelling the north woods, it wasn’t fancy or impressive and had no false pretenses. It was a small establishment, attached to the front of his house. Six stools and a few tables filled the space. And if you looked to the right when you entered, you could see directly into his living room. It was that kind of place. Whenever the sign was on, it was open. It was a convenient stopping place for our family’s grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

One warm summer day, a couple of my cousins and their friends stopped at Frosty’s on their way to a fish fry at one of the lake resorts. They found Frosty inside, perched on a bar stool. He greeted them heartily, always happy to receive a customer. His shoes were off and set on the stool next to him. His socks were on the bar. He was busy cutting his toenails.

The group grimaced. They bypassed the dollar tappers and requested a round of bottled beer. At Frosty’s, it was best to avoid ordering a drink served in something that needed to be washed. The quality of cleaning was typically inconsistent and always questionable, and here was a new situation with him clipping his toenails. Frosty happily took the order, jumping off the bar stool and ducking behind the bar to fetch the bottles from the cooler. As they watched him open the bottles one by one – Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! – they were pleased with their quick thinking, as Frosty had stockpiled his clippings and cuttings on the bar. He never washed his hands.

They offered to take the bottles off the counter, but Frosty brushed them off, saying he’d bring them right over. They didn’t see a problem with this. Frosty then proceeded to stick his fingers into the long necks, carrying the bottles around the bar to his appalled guests. They watched, slack-jawed as he set the bottles in front of them. He was so glad to see them and declared the first round was on him. Wide-eyed, the group gaped at each other. Then one by one, they lifted the bottles and drank a toast to Frosty. *************

Frosty Munson

Frosty’s, Mason, Wis.

Now, this story doesn’t belong to me. My cousin told this to us at a family gathering and I’ve probably gotten a few of the details wrong, perhaps embellishing some other parts. However, every time I drive by Frosty’s I can’t help but think of the Toe Jam in a Beer. To my friend, I say you can share this story. I know you will.

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