About

This blog is about the art and science of inspiring people to change the world. It’s for people who:

Care about the common good — and want to take action and draw other people to join them.
Have a social cause (or more than one) they’re eager to advance: the environment, human rights, housing, education, the arts, health care, civil liberties, peace, progressive politics, social justice …
Would like to always feel as excited and hopeful as they did on Election Day 2008 (but may be in a different place right now).
Aspire to be idealistic, compassionate, and powerful agents of social change.
Want to learn more about how to take smart, strategic, effective action to inspire people and create the kind of world they want.

If that’s you, welcome! I’m glad you’re here.

My purpose is simple: I want you to be an even more powerful voice — for the good of the world.

I’m giving this my all … sharing everything I’ve learned about how to inspire people and move them to action. (It’s fair to say that I’ve picked up a thing or two over the years.) For starters, here are some key ideas:

We can create a public dialogue that draws people together and lifts up our best. But doing that takes some new ideas, strategies, and skills. (Maybe even a different way of seeing things.)
People are hungry for hope, for meaning, for a positive way forward. (Give them that, with authenticity, and we become unstoppable.)
We have more going for us than we usually believe. I mean that. Stick around and we’ll see if I can prove it to you.
It’s crucial to reduce fear and increase confidence. (Simply put, this lets people make healthier choices.)
People are better and smarter than a lot of folks think. Sometimes all it takes is giving them a chance to be at their best.

And at the risk of sounding corny (or worse yet, naive), I’ll venture to add this: Hope and love can change the world … if they fuel clear, focused action. (Or as I once heard someone say, “If you want to get somewhere, pray if you like — just be sure you move your feet.”)

Well, that’s a taste of what’s going on here. I hope you’ll stick around for more.

– Pam McAllister

(P.S. As you may have gathered, I’m writing mostly for my fellow Americans. Of course, everybody’s welcome, but those are the folks I want to reach — and energize — right now.)

About the author

Pam McAllister I’ve devoted nearly 20 years of my life to the environmental movement, first as a volunteer and then in staff positions, including 10 years doing communications and marketing for The Nature Conservancy.

For most of that time, I steered clear of politics, repelled by what I saw as noise and nonsense. Looking back, I can’t help but wish I’d been more engaged (as I had been in college). If there’s one thing we’ve learned, it’s that “elections have consequences.”

The 2008 presidential race woke me up. I got involved — volunteered and gave money — as never before. What a thrill it was to be in Florida on election day, poll-watching for the Obama campaign in Lee County. (Never have I been more proud of my fellow Americans.)

Still, I’m reminded every day that the change we seek has only just begun …

… that it’s up to us to take advantage of the historic opportunity of these times …

… and that change is called for in every sector of society: nonprofit and social change organizations, social enterprises, all levels of government, businesses large and small, schools, communities, families. (And within each of us.)

So I’ve taken it as my personal mission to do all I can to encourage and inform folks like you — the people who are striving to make a real difference with your lives. It’s time for our voices to be heard.

Random but possibly relevant notes about Pam

I grew up in Hawaii, went to Punahou School, and have a special fondness for sea turtles. It pleases me no end to have these things in common with my President.
In my early 20s, I had the honor of speaking to a huge crowd at the annual August 6 memorial service in Hiroshima, on behalf of a coalition of Hawaii-based peace groups. I have no idea what I said. I do remember the museum there, all too well.
I’m old enough that I wrote my master’s thesis on a typewriter. It was about the manipulation of public opinion during the Vietnam War. (Sometimes I wish history would be a little less relevant.)
I’m told that I write well, so it amuses me that I never took an English class in college. I did take calculus, which was a hoot.
I have a law degree from Northwestern University (full academic scholarship, cum laude, law review, thank you very much). I practiced tax law with a large firm in Honolulu, which bored me to tears and proved to me that truth is stranger than fiction. When they offered me partnership, I split. (Being a lawyer was an “interesting life experience,” but not something I recommend.)
After we left Hawaii, my husband and I bummed around North America for a year in a camper van. (That I recommend.)
9/11 found us on a tiny sailboat, anchored in a cozy bay in the San Juan Islands. We stayed blissfully unaware until we reached port two days later and saw a newspaper lying on the counter in a cafe. I can still picture that.
Salt water is where I belong. I love that I can catch a glimpse of Puget Sound from my house and hear foghorns in the distance. (Not-so-by-the-way, I’m writing this in June 2010, deep in grief for the Gulf of Mexico — and more determined than ever to change the conditions that led to such an assault on all I hold dear.)
In my ever-expanding quest to become more skilled at my work, I’ve spent thousands of hours (and dollars) studying everything I can find: social psychology, history, direct marketing, philosophy, fiction writing, advertising, brain science, theater, spirituality, anthropology, personal development, comic books, organizational behavior … and on and on. (Human beings are complicated and endlessly fascinating. Besides, learning is the coolest high.)
I love my country and what it stands for at its best: a beacon of freedom and hope for the world. (And I understand cynicism — oh yeah, I get it. I can even honor it as the frustrated idealism that it is. But I’ve gotta say that in the end cynicism is just a cop-out — or at least it is for me.)

I am convinced that far more idealistic aspiration exists than is ever evident. Just as the rivers we see are much less numerous than the underground streams, so the idealism that is visible is minor compared to what men and women carry in their hearts, unreleased or scarcely released. Mankind is waiting and longing for those who can accomplish the task of untying what is knotted and bringing the underground waters to the surface.
– Albert Schweitzer