Group photo of the walkers who stayed till the end.

Anthropologist Margaret Mead once said, “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.”

On October 22 in Tower Grove Park, a small group of thoughtful, committed, and passionate people gathered together to walk on behalf of an issue that, for many people, is difficult to care about, let alone stand up for… an issue that is too often ignored, marginalized, or even mocked… an issue that, indeed, can change the world. The issue? Compassion for farm animals. The event? The 2011 St. Louis Walk for Farm Animals.

More than sixty people came out on a chilly Saturday morning to do their small but important part to raise awareness of the cruelties involved in factory farming and to raise money for Farm Sanctuary, a national non-profit organization that rescues abused and abandoned farm animals and advocates on their behalf.

As one of the coordinators of this event, I had the pleasure of meeting and speaking with these incredible volunteers. Some were vegans and animal rights activists. Others were just there to support friends or significant others. But everyone there had one thing in common, and everyone reading this does, too: the ability to change the world. The power to influence others and bring about change. The potential for good.

And even though the Walk is over, I want to encourage all the participants–and all of you reading this–to think of your daily life as a walk for whatever you’re passionate about. If you care for animals, make every day your own walk for farm animals. Every day presents you with a thousand opportunities for good. Make decisions consciously with your passion in mind. Choose vegan food options. Buy products that haven’t been tested on animals. Volunteer at your local animal shelter. The opportunities are endless.

Thank you to everyone who came out to the 2011 St. Louis Walk for Farm Animals. Thank you to the companies who supported the event, the friends and family members who donated money, the staff of Farm Sanctuary for all their hard work, and, of course, Jimmy and Darla, my awesome fellow coordinators.

I’d like to think I did this solely for the animals, but, if that were true, why would I so fondly remember the people?

I wonder why religion is considered off-limits to so many people. I wonder why we let it cause damaging arguments. I wonder if we should hold ourselves to a higher standard than that, so that we can maturely discuss a topic that is potentially the most important one we’ll ever face.

Activity One: Staring
In our very first session of the level one class, the instructor, Kevin, asked us to randomly pair up with another student and, well, stare at each other. For the first couple seconds, as I stared at my friend Aaron, I thought it was incredibly awkward. At the same time, though, I was alright with it, because it was something I could laugh at.

But then, about three seconds into the staring activity, Kevin told us to try not to laugh, because laughing is a way to protect ourselves from feeling vulnerable or silly. He was absolutely right. I thought I was laughing because the activity was funny, but the truth is my laughter was essentially a defense mechanism. Now, anyone who knows me is probably thinking “duh.” And I’m sure I have known this all along too, but this improv activity really concreted it for me. I stopped laughing, which was pretty difficult at first. The staring activity became easier and easier, and by the third or fourth person I stared at (mostly strangers), I felt completely comfortable. As Kevin told us, we all have flaws. We all think negative things about ourselves–our pores, our noses, our hair, our insert-anything-and-everything-here. But we’re all people.

Activity Two: Dancing
A couple sessions later, we were asked to stand on stage (we practice in the same room in which shows are held). Kevin asked for a volunteer, so I stepped forward. As he explained the activity, I thought, “piece of cake.” He said that he’d play a piece of music, and he wanted the person in front to dance to it and everyone else to mimic him/her. Piece of cake, right?

Wrong. Kevin followed up his explanation with a similar sentence as the one he used in the staring activity we had done weeks before. He told us not to laugh–not to make a joke of it, but to dance like we actually would if nobody was around. That sounded a bit more difficult to me. It’s easy to get out in front of a group of people and act like a goofball. It’s a lot harder to stand in front of people and be serious. But the music sounded, and I danced like no one was watching. And the other students followed along, copying my every move. It turned out to be a lot of fun, and a pretty good workout at that!

Lisa, What’s Your Point?
I think the reason I enjoyed these two activities so much is that they pushed me out of my comfort zone. They made me be brave. They made me see that I can be brave. They reminded me of something I have always believed in theory but haven’t always put into practice: that we are all pretty awesome and unique, and that we shouldn’t be afraid to be ourselves. We should never be afraid to be silly or nerdy or stupid or mushy or honest. We should always be ourselves. I know that’s mushy, but what did I just say?!

Here It Comes: The Double-Dog Dare
I officially invite you (read: double-dog dare you) to take an improv class at either of the schools in St. Louis. It’s a lot of fun, and the people are the best you’ll ever find. You’ll get to experience areas outside your comfort zone with the full support and empathy of the instructors and the other students. You’ll laugh your butt off and learn to trust and be trusted. You’ll meet people who make you think what I thought after my first improv class: “I barely know you people, but, strangely, I feel like we should hug when we see each other.”

For information on classes, schedules, and costs, visit The Improv Shop and The Improv Trick online or email me at lisarimmert at gmail dot com. Please also read this very important information.

And it really bummed me out.

As part of the workshop, Cyndee and Jessica had us complete a worksheet, which included jotting down a description of our “YOU-topia,” or perfect life. I found this to be difficult, as I haven’t narrowed down exactly what I want out of life, or at least in terms of a career. I know what I enjoy and what motivates me, but I don’t know how my vague interests translate into a specific career path. For example, I know I love to teach, learn, inspire, be inspired, and know I’m making a real difference. I know I enjoy communications strategy, speaking, writing, creative problem solving, and building relationships. Does that translate well into a specific career? Is it marketing? Public relations? Teaching? Community outreach?

I have no idea.

I spoke with Jessica about this after her presentation, and she gave me advice that, on one hand, I think is really smart and inspiring, and, on the other hand, is hard for the critic in me to believe. She basically said, and I hope I’m paraphrasing well, that a job doesn’t have to already exist for it to be your goal. You can invent what you want to be. That’s what Jessica did; she became a business consultant, and she travels around to teach small business professionals everything from marketing to financial management.

So, maybe there is a traditional job out there that will incorporate the main topics and activities that inspire me, or maybe I’ll invent one. Either way, I can feel confident that I’m headed in the right direction. And it helps to have people to look up to, like Colleen Patrick-Goudreau, Jasmin Singer, Seth Godin, Chris Brogan, Soledad O’Brien, and now Jessica Macera.

I love thinking up new ideas, starting new projects, and making changes to anything and everything.

I, of course, blame my parents for my love of new things. My dad was in the Air Force from before I was born, up to my final years of high school. Because of this, my family moved every few years. Every three or four years, we went through our belongings and tossed what we didn’t want anymore. We packed up the rest and moved to a new state or town (or country). We got to start over: in new houses with new schools and new friends and a new room! I’m pretty sure this is the root of my neophilism (or neophility).

When it comes to changing a hairstyle or moving furniture around, nobody is really bothered by a neophile. However, advocating for change in an office environment can be tricky. From my experience, most people are not neophiles; they’re resistant to change.

I wonder how to best address this difference of opinions. Perhaps it is to keep pushing for change and keep seeing your new ventures through to achieve great results for the company. Perhaps what is needed to change minds is to build credibility. What do you think? Are you a neophile in a world (or office) full of change-resistant people? How do you make this work?