My hope for B-Skool kids

I wrote this to my friend Justin (D'07) during the fall of my first year at Darden. He is in Ford's MLP program and I interviewed for an internship with Ford. Here is why I was so excited. This type of passion exists in a lot of my colleagues. I've seen it. We need to see it more.
(caveat: I ended up choosing Frito Lay for both my internship and full time, but hopefully this sheds some light on one way of thinking about your career)
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Dear Justin,
Good morning! How are you? Are you looking forward to this week? Being from Detroit, are you spending Thanksgiving with your family?
So, I hope you’ve got a few minutes, because this is a long email. But it involves you and Ford, so don’t worry…=)
I had an interesting weekend last weekend. As you know, I was a professional bicycle racer for 1 ½ years before entering Darden. When I met you in the Spring of 2006, I had no idea what the future held. I knew that I love consumer products, am passionate about the environment, and believe in efficient and sustainable manufacturing. I wanted to be a part of something bigger. Something that would really change the world and the way it functions in the face of dwindling natural resources. And Business School was the gateway to that path.
When I got the opportunity to race my bicycle as a professional and therefore deferred my admission to Darden, I embarked on an adventure. I traveled all over, racing on the trash-strewn roads of El Salvador one month, the pristine cobbled streets of Montreal the next. I learned a lot about life, myself, and what I really want to do. I began to realize that though professional cycling is a challenge, it wasn’t challenge enough. The effects of my efforts did not reach far enough. Sure, I was one of the country’s more popular professionals. But it didn’t have the impact I wanted. So what if 100s read my blog per day. Was I really making a difference?
In August I came to Darden, serious about a career in changing the world through consumer products. I know that the decisions made in large companies like Ford, General Mills, and GE have worldwide impact. I want to be a part of that and this passion will make me a valuable member of any team. You know how it feels, to wake up with the drive (pun intended?) to make a difference every day. To work toward a significant goal that will change the world. I have the same motivation, and the more I think about Ford and what you are doing…the more I want to be a part of it.
Which brings me to last weekend. On the drive home from two days of bike racing, I decided a few things.
1. That I was done racing, even “for fun”. I had been in purgatory, though I officially “retired” in August. I was continuing to race to promote my sponsor (Vanderkitten). But I wasn’t training at all, and therefore not winning. The higher the stakes for me, the better my performance. So now, by “racing for fun”, what was the point? It’s not a sore loser mentality, but one of realism. Why bother being mediocre when my talents and energy should go elsewhere at this time in my life?
2. I realized that I hadn’t been giving enough energy to Darden. Granted, Darden gets 18 hours of my day, but all weren’t spent as wisely as they should. My old life was hampering the new, and I needed a clean break. I was missing too many TNDCs. I was still tied to pro cycling. Still thinking about training. Still harboring guilt about not being one of the country’s best any longer. Since I wasn’t really working toward anything this season, I was wasting my time.
3. I have drive that goes beyond cycling and small industries. In the past, my drive has helped me achieve extraordinary goals. I went from being advised to quit cycling in 2002 (because I sucked) to being one of the country’s top-ranked professionals in just a few years. I graduated from a high school of 90 people in the woods of Oregon, got an Art Degree, then worked my way into an influential position at one of the country’s best-known beauty firms (Burt’s Bees). I am an innovator, a revolutionary, and a passionately practical environmentalist. My parents taught me to forge my own path. They did: after retiring from teaching high school art, they sold 7 acres in the San Francisco Bay Area and bought a cattle ranch in the wilderness of Southern Oregon with no electricity or television. They created a sustainable life from the land, and I am so proud of their accomplishment of raising organic grass-fed beef cattle in an environmentally feasible manner. They are true stewards of both the land and their life dreams. This is a part of my DNA as well.
I am driven to do what I do because of my passions and talents. I won’t be a deskjob kind of woman. I want to be a part of something much bigger than I. To be a part of a team that is changing the world. Ford’s MLP appeals to me because of this. To help shape the future of something we take for granted: transportation. The thing that affords us the ability to visit beautiful places, be close to those we love, and is a part of nearly every major life event. When you wrote “we’re as serious as cancer on turning around Ford and making it a great company”, I nearly jumped out of my seat. I feel the same way about the things I undertake, and would be honored to be a part of something like this.
I realize that this was a long email, but I wanted to convey why I want to know more about Ford’s MLP. That it was borne out of a weekend where I renewed my vows to once again infuse my daily actions with my inherent talents and passion. I believe that my reasons for wanting to be a business leader come from a sincere, creative, and energetic place that isn’t deterred by obstacles, and will indeed make me an asset to your program.
Cheers,
mandy

Ghosts

I haven't yet decided where we go when we die. When we "slip the surly bonds of earth and touch the face of God".
But I don't doubt that we occasionally overlap existences.
Last Friday, I finished my reading for Business Ethics through Literature and became quite inspired. I sat down and wrote 3 stories. One of the stories was written with the Andrew Wyeth painting (Master Bedroom) in my head. The sparse cold permeated my prose and I even inserted the character of a sleepy white dog.
I finished it and put it away for the weekend. Mind you: I don't have much contact with news because I don't listen to the radio nor do I have a television. I don't see TVs, even.
This week I found out that Andrew Wyeth, aged 91, died quietly in his sleep last Friday. As I was writing a story that his painting inspired.
Tell me he didn't pass by me on his way out of town.

My blog needs a new name

Bye bye, 11 inches of genetic luck.

My cat is crestfallen and I envy Englishmen

Our cute little Brutus misses his mommy. Three days into his adoption and he's a bit tired of me. After I took this picture he threw up on the rug.

Speaking of awesome things, let's talk about Brits. I trust English people. More than I trust Americans, if we’re talking percentages. Strap on a delightful Buckingham Palace lilt and I’ll give you my passport and a pint of blood.
Could it be the jolly Heathrow customs officers; the only evidence that good cheer exists behind that navy uniform in ANY COUNTRY ON THE PLANET? Is it the way that they use multi-syllabic words in their daily newspapers, while American rags are forced to cater to a 3rd-grade comprehension level for their constituents?
At any rate, I love the Brits. I just spent a week amongst them on a foreign island (neither theirs nor mine) and have concluded that when I grow old I want to be British. However, I don’t know if I’ll be granted admission into the cult of delightful older Brits, partly because of my superior dental history.
Our wedding night found us 7 Yankee friends playing Bingo and betting on 1980s horse races with a delightful collection of Brits in a Mallorcan pub, appropriately named “The Crown”. The fact that the sweet and slightly frog-like man (think Toad Hall) sitting next to me had brought his octogenarian parents to the bar for a drink and some light gambling astounded me. They smiled and diligently marked their bingo cards, even though Viktoria (though she is a newly-minted American citizen, she’s still our “in” with the KGB) won both the row and full house rounds. 70 Euros richer, she smiled when they remarked “you Yanks…always taking everything”. And said with such a smile that it is impossible to be offended; in fact, while on vacation I found myself apologizing on multiple occasions for my country of origin.
I am luckier than most to have been born a citizen of my blessed country; but the “American” traits that make me proud I’ve found in my travels to simply be “human” traits…and therefore I’m not so sure how much of it blooms from the soil of my United States. At the risk of sounding anti-American (which I assure you, I am not. I’m simply anti-idiot); I would like to figure out how to file the paperwork to become a Brit in demeanor and tolerance of smoky bars at the spry age of 80. Someone please email me the details.
Thanks.
PS: Who else lets their dog (Sammy's his name!) hang out in their pub? Not Americans. "Liability...Health Code..." they mutter.

Parenthood!

I know I bitch a lot about parents who let their kids become overweight before their 5th birthday.
I'm eating my words. Meet Brutus. AKA Mr. Pig. Who is 4 years old...and definitely chubby.

The closest we'll get to parenthood, Mr. Sundt and I.

Brutus likes my shoes.

never

use heathrow kiosks for meaningful internet time.
...almost home...

...and the groom wore white

january 2, 2009. a pretty good day.