Historic Downtown Fremont

03/10/2026

02/05/2026

Oh so true. A board needs to be fighters, not Cheerleaders.

Your board is sabotaging you.

Not intentionally. They’re good people who care. But they’re stuck in a fog of politeness, afraid to challenge bad ideas or confront hard truths. They nod along. They avoid conflict. They let mediocrity slide.

This is killing your organization.

Most boards operate like social clubs. Members show up, listen to reports, approve budgets, and go home feeling helpful. Meanwhile, your organization drifts. Nobody asks the uncomfortable questions. Nobody demands excellence. Nobody says “this isn’t good enough.”

You need fighters, not cheerleaders.

A real board doesn’t rubber-stamp. They interrogate. They push back. They force you to defend your assumptions and sharpen your strategy.

They ask: “Why should anyone care about this?” and “What happens if we’re wrong?” They challenge sacred cows. They demand evidence. They make you uncomfortable, in the best way.
This isn’t about being difficult. It’s about being serious.

Stop recruiting based on resumes and connections. Start recruiting for courage and clarity. Find people who will tell you the truth, even when it stings.

Set the expectation from day one: your job isn’t to be nice. It’s to make us better.

Create space for real debate. Kill the consent agenda. Ban “I think we’re all in agreement” when you’re not. Reward dissent.
And fire the dead weight. That board member who hasn’t said anything meaningful in two years? Thank them for their service and move on.

A badass board doesn’t just govern better, it transforms your organization. Decisions get sharper. Strategy gets clearer. Ex*****on gets tougher. You stop coasting and start competing.

Your community deserves better than a polite board. Give them a fierce one.

12/13/2025

12/10/2025

Dressing up your home’s exterior is a civic act in its purest form.

The golden light of November fades into December’s darkness. Moody evening skies give way to bleak afternoons. Autumn ends, and I could sink into full seasonal depression if it weren’t for the holiday lights.

Those lights! As my friend Bernice Radle once said: “Christmas lights make everything better.” I can’t argue.

What strikes me most about holiday decorations is how profoundly unselfish they are. Dressing up your home’s exterior is a civic act in its purest form.

Think about it: We rarely sit outside staring at our own houses. We’re either inside them or away from them. So when we spend time, money, and effort decorating the outside, we’re really doing it for everyone else. For neighbors, passersby, dog walkers, evening strollers.

We decorate to delight our community. To lift spirits. To share joy during the darkest time of year.

The real Clark Griswolds out there, the ones who risk life and limb stringing lights across rooflines, they do it for people they’ll never meet, never greet, who will never say thanks. That’s the epitome of community-mindedness.

And it’s not just private citizens. Local governments that normally balk at design standards suddenly spend taxpayer money transforming downtowns into winter wonderlands, and no one objects. What does that tell us?

Design matters. Aesthetics are important. Beauty is essential.

Imagine the holidays without lights. How bleak would the season feel without that whimsy? We make it special together, and that collective effort is what makes it work.

The holidays remind us what civic life should be. We flock to skating rinks and winter markets. Downtown fills with people reveling in public space. We long for community, and we create it.

The gifts are nice. The traditions are lovely. But the best part is what we do for and with one another.

Here’s what we should remember year-round: People want to gather in beautiful places every season, not just December. Public spaces need to be active, inviting, and well-designed all year long. Community-building feels good every single day.

During the holidays, regardless of faith or tradition, we give back more. We do more for others. We venture outside instead of burrowing in. We bundle up and gather in our common places to celebrate the lives we share.

And I can’t imagine a greater cause than that.