Matthew Quetton

Dr. John Izzo is Stepping Up - Are you?

My good friend and mentor, Dr. John Izzo has just published his new book, Stepping Up,  and it's a must read for any leader and changemaker. John is an amazingly insightful leadership and employee engagement practitioner and speaker. His first book, Awakening the Corporate Soul, was a bestseller 14 years ago, way ahead of it's time, and a timely read today.

In John's latest book, he offers us a call to action to 'step up' and take responsibility for the conditions we face and the change we would like to see. He's hosting the Step Up for 30 Days challenge and asking people to share their personal story of how stepping up in their own lives changed everything.

In John's words:

We live in a time when we need every person to step up and create positive change. One person stepping up has incredible power to make a difference. A new book by bestselling author Dr. John Izzo, tells the inspiring stories of ordinary people who created extraordinary change and challenges each of us to step up in our sphere of influence.

The book is rich with real life, down to earth stories of ordinary people who stepped up to effect extraordinary change such as two teens who ignited an anti-bullying campaign, three women who made a difference in female poverty in Africa, a homeless man who started a recycling revolution, and a group of citizens who helped stop the whale hunt.

This book will inspire you, challenge you, and it just might improve your career and relationships at the same time.

Stepping Up is available at Amazon.com in the United States and from www.chapters.indigo.ca in Canada.

Charles Leadbeater gives us a map

Charles (Charlie) Ledbeater illuminated a small, fortunate group of devoted social innovators in Vancouver on Sept 22nd. Visiting Vancouver as part of a national speakers series organized by Social Innovation Generation (SiG), Charlie opened his talk with the simple, profound fact haunting so many of us:

"Everyone is looking for a new business model."

The universality of this truth becomes clear as "everyone" in Charlie's definition broadly includes not only business, but media, charities, and government too. Similarly, by "business model" he is referring to organizational systems of every stripe that ostensibly are here to "serve us but disable us."

Charlie, like many of his growing cadre of social innovation colleagues, is looking for "systems that work with us". Thankfully, he brought a stunningly simple yet effective toolbox of diagnostic tools to help reveal the principles of those sought-after systems. Working from the now-familiar social innovation recipe of user-driven complex  system change, he illuminated several specific pairings of factors in a variety of systems: Communication (Engagement vs Volume), Ideation (Contributors vs. Benefactors), Innovation (Investment vs. Impact), and Organization (System vs. Empathy).

What was new and fascinating for me was to express these factors, not as binary competing agents, where any choice is a compromise, but as complementary vertices in a two dimensional grid. This simple, but profound repositioning of factors vastly increases the range of possibilities, moving us from a closed, zero-sum-game of competition and compromise, to an open, abundant and dynamic field of possibility. We can, in fact aspire for both, and seek outcomes of an entirely higher order of magnitude.

For me, As an entrepreneur and consultant working directly with change management in organizational systems, I was deeply intrigued by the last of these models. The tension and interplay between Systems and Empathy in an organization deeply reflects the traditional divisions between the charitable and profitable sectors. It is the space most up for debate in the growing social enterprise sector.

The model is a remarkably effective way to envision where in this 'possibility field' an organization is, where others in its sector are, and where it might desire to be. Charlie gives us wonderfully illustrative examples for each quadrant: From heartless discount airlines to warm and fuzzy, yet  poorly organized, farmers markets. Most of all, it allowed us to dream of the possibilities of organizations both magically well run AND amazingly personal. He cites 'cities' as his favorite example. Mine, I'll admit is a hotel or restaurant.

What struck me most about Charlie's model, though, is in what it doesn't show: What it takes to move from one quadrant to another. As always, change is the rub.  What organizational assumptions were at work in positioning you in your original spot? Which cultural elements will be challenged in moving? Thanks to Charlie, we now have this simple map to help us through the challenging terrain of change. Like the mythic hero Heracles, we must avoid the singular pull of the whirlpool of sentiment, or the clashing rocks of efficiency, and carefully navigate through to the safe waters of integration.

For the growing social enterprise sector, it opens the possibility that 'Social Enterprise' does not have to be Social OR Enterprise (or some vaguely bland, blended middle ground), but can be Social AND Enterprise. It allows us to envision an integrated model, where both systems and empathy are fully developed in support of the user. Where, in the words of Adam Kahane, both power and love are at work.

Yet, even with the best map in hand, the work of change requires us to plan a route suitable to the terrain. While I suspect it barely scratches the surface of his skill as a guide, Charlie did leave us with a short list of possible approaches. Moving a system, he suggests, can be accomplished through:

• External consultation
• Internal disruptors
• External influencers
• Reprograming of Internal 'software'
• Catalyzation of an inert system
• Adoption of parts of an old system into a dynamic new one
• Creationop a separate and alternative system

"Most important innovators are mavericks on the margins", Charlie tells us finally (which personally, I'm encouraged by). He points out that, like any creative design process, change is best pursued through trial and error, that experiment and failure are part of the process, and that "all innovation is about coalitions". The elegant principles of a game-changing solution, he suggests, are often reverse engineered from the last, successful experiment. Successful innovation and replication, it turns out, are not the product of a design process, but of an iterative 'doing' process.

So go ahead; grab the map, convene your colleagues, plot your current location, choose a destination, and ask the question: "How do we get there?"

Peter Block to Facilitate Community-Building Workshop

via axiomnews.ca:  Are there questions we can ask and conversations we can have to strengthen and transform our communities?

British Columbia Association for Community Living (BCACL) is creating a rare opportunity to join in discussion around this question with one of North America's leading community builders, Peter Block.

On October 6th, Peter will be facilitating an all day session exploring ways of thinking about our places (workplaces, neighbourhoods, towns) that create an opening for authentic communities to exist. Participants will learn how to discover the gifts of our neighbours, to welcome strangers and to build associations that will shift the focus from need and deficiencies to engagement and possibility, leading to the creation of a new future.

Not to be missed! Find out more about this event or register online here.

 

Putting dot.com dollars to work for social impact

Calling all tech sector investors with a social conscience...

Every entrepreneur needs an aligned community of investors around them to finance and support their growth. For the startup, 'smart money' is always preferable to 'any' money (although of course 'any' money will do in a pinch). It's no different for entrepreneurs seeking to launch social purpose businesses or social enterprises. Yet while the community of impact investors able to provide sought-after 'smart money' is growing in certain sectors - most notable clean tech and consumer packaged goods (CPG), there is a notable shortage of investors willing, experienced and aligned to provide 'smart money' to a vibrant and growing startup sector that, ironically is strongly positioned to provide both financial and social returns to investors. We're talking about social purpose technology startups.

 

Anthony Nicalo, CEO of tech startup Foodtree, neatly characterizes the investor dilemma facing the social purpose tech startup: There are impact investors, but since they tend to hail from traditional sectors like natural resources, real estate, and manufacturing, they bring business knowledge that is well outside the tech space. At best, coming from a CPG background, they bring insight into product development and marketing. An entrepreneur like Anthony, whose startup is designed from the ground up to generate social impact through access to, and knowledge about, natural and sustainable food, knows these smart investors have no smart money for him.

Isn't technology a booming sector, particularly in Vancouver? Aren't there plenty of angel and VC investors offering smart money? Well, yes, if you are an entrepreneur launching a typical startup, sure. VC groups like VanEdge Capital are well positioned to provide smart money. But here again, Anthony and his fellow social purpose entrepreneurs are out of luck.

Tech startups are a numbers game, where daily active users, conversion rates, and monetization factors define the winners. Team, IP, and traction are the buzzwords. Impact does not enter into it. I suppose it makes sense when you think about it. While we are becoming somewhat more aware of the environmental impact of our digital devices, the apps we run are completely off the 'sustainability' radar. They involve no material, no waste, and while they generate the consumption of energy, that's the hardware suppliers problem, not the app developers. No one is concerned with the sustainability of apps, or tech startups, there's nothing to worry about.

No wonder then, that impact investors, drawn to bricks and mortar industries like energy and consumer goods making identified sustainable impact, are nowhere to be seen in the tech space. There, investors are focused on pursuing the heady pure financial returns, exclusive to this mythic sector, free from the concerns or appeal of generating 'impact'.

Or are they?

 

The irony is that social-purpose tech startups like Anthony's are uniquely well positioned to generate attractive social returns. Tech companies are often well-margined and low-overhead with large sales volumes driving high revenues in relation to overhead. They reach from tens of thousands to millions of users, generating detailed metrics of user traffic and measurable impact. Access to online apps now often follows a 'freemium' model, providing access to user benefits with minimal cost.

 

Free to cheap user engagement, knowledge sharing, and social networking, all while still generating positive cash flow and returns to investors? What's not to love? One would think Impact Investors would be lined up to participate in this perfect storm of social impact returns.

 

If only. If only the pace, vigour and ingenuity of the tech world, steeped in the untarnished world of technology and app development, would realize the power at it's fingertips. The power to align a generation of millions of innocent social media fans, gamers, and other online users, to pressing social issues. Education, Health, Food, Waste, Water, Poverty; there is no shortage of compelling objectives, just waiting to be addressed through the power of online engagement.

 

'Gamification' is on the rise, sparking the convergence of the gaming user experience within productivity apps. While controversial - as though Millenials need any more encouragement - Charles Tsai in his recent Huffington Post article, How Angry Birds Can Change the World, makes a compelling case for gamification brought to bear in addressing our social issues. The opportunity, for social entrepreneurs like Anthony to produce apps like Foodtree that bring the best of technology to address our social challenges, presents too good an impact investing opportunity to pass up.

 

So come on folks, it's time to ante up and put those hard won dot-com dollars to work. Gaming is not just for fun, there's a growing social purpose tech sector out there, hungry to leverage the social power of the sector to make a serious dent in our most pressing social issues, and they need your help.

 

 

The Rise of the Hybrid: When Sectors Collide

The Rise of the Hybrid: When Sectors Collide

David Evans, author and social activist, provides an excellent overview of the rising Social Enterprise sector; it's challenges and opportunities and some of the key influencers.

As the Social Enterprise secotr grows, both from the direction of revenue-generating non-profits and social purpose for-profits, the reality of marrying two previously distinct approaches to value generation and organization culture, continues to reveal the complexities and tensions inherent to a 'hybrid' structure. Like a marriage, do the best outcomoes occur when each partner retains their character and identity, contributing distinct skills and perspectives to make a whole that is greater than the sum of it's parts? Is a 'hybrid' Social Enterprise model like an anemic marriage where both partners abandon the strength of their independant identities and stall in a frustrating and 'blanded' union?

We will continue to explore the embedded tensions and opportunities for dynamic partnership in the ideal marriage of the Social and Enterprise sectors in further posts.

It takes a village (and a computer and a horse)

By: Cindy Hughes, Tyze Personal Networks

You know, perspective is a funny thing. The view is much clearer when you’re on Fresco, a gigantic draft horse wearing nothing but a thick pad with handles. From up there, you can see far and wide. You’re alive too—caught up in a jumble of movement, muscles and horse musk.

“Lean forward, let your muscles stretch right out!” encourages Miriam Grob, the therapeutic riding coach. Fresco is carrying precious cargo today: Matthew Quetton and his young son, Theo.

Seven years ago Theo, was born with a rare genetic mutation, Cornelia de Lange Syndrome, which causes him to grow very slowly. He is non-verbal and his physical and cognitive challenges mean he’ll always need 24-hour care. But that’s just part of the picture. Among other things, Theo has also been the catalyst for some beautiful ideas about bridging healthcare professionals and the community.

A Radical Question

Before Theo was born, Matthew and his wife Leslie were carefree 30-somethings with successful design careers. They were about to be first time parents and figured they knew what life was going to look like. Theo’s condition came as a thunderbolt.

After the initial shock, they asked a game-changing question. What if they radically altered their perspective? What if they treated Theo’s constraints as an experiment; one that required innovation, flexibility and a spirit of play?

“Theo became another creative project for us, by far the most complex and rewarding to date. We came to view his diagnosis not as a fearful thing, but in fact as the opposite – as a pathway for innovation and success.”

First, Rally the Troops

Theo immediately took on a large complicated roster of formal care providers. But the crazy thing was that these talented specialists never crossed paths or talked to one another. No overlap existed and no one but Theo’s parents understood the full, rich story. With a lifetime of care ahead, this wouldn’t do.

“As designers we knew that good collaboration only comes from good relationship. We became so committed to finding ways to break down barriers in the medical experience and to integrate Theo’s care. We wanted to turn the plethora of bright, dedicated specialists working with him into more than just specialists—we wanted a united, collaborative front. We wanted everyone to see more than a set of vital signs; we wanted them to see Theo. We got as excited about our relationships with his therapists as we would have with co-collaborators on any design project.”

But how to practically create an information bridge from one specialist to another?  Why, with a creative modern solution, of course.

Enter Tyze.

Tyze Personal Networks is a Vancouver-based social mission business that creates secure online personal networks of support. A Tyze community is an online space where people can rally around someone facing a life challenge in total privacy. Users can upload photos, videos and stories and medical professionals can upload documents into a secure vault. Every network has a purpose and is created around a specific person and a specific situation. To date there are 4,000 active networks in Canada, the US, the UK and Australia. 

“We were unapologetic about wanting our therapists to be friends and our friends to be therapists.”

“When it comes to tools like Tyze we’re very, very fortunate,” reflects Matthew. “It’s been so easy to use and we immediately convened everyone there, in one shared space. We consciously tore down the walls between the formal and informal people in Theo’s life. We were unapologetic about wanting our therapists to be friends and our friends to be therapists. We didn’t want a division. ” 

And the Cool Thing?

It worked. Not only did a Tyze network unite Theo’s professional care providers (thanks to Tyze they actively collaborate together) it also created a space for family around the world to join in. “Our families live all over, but with Tyze we get to weave Theo’s story into theirs on a day-to-day basis.”

A Horse of a Different Color

When Theo started taking therapeutic horseback riding lessons, everyone on his network was excited. In fact, when his physiotherapist read about it, she immediately confessed she’d harboured an interest in horse centered therapy for years. The Quettons invited her to join them for a lesson.

“That was a great example of how Tyze helped us bring two therapists together who would have otherwise never met; an example of us all working together toward the same goal.”

During that joint riding lesson they recorded a video.

“We took a video of Theo on the horse, working with the physiotherapist and the riding coach, and we posted that to Tyze. The school-sponsored physiotherapist and occupational therapist were able to see Theo’s capacity and behaviour on the horse. So now the therapists are doing information swapping. And at the same time our friends and family are commenting on it just for the sheer joy of it. And we want the therapists to see that too, to have more than just a diagnostic viewpoint, to experience the richness of the storytelling and the reflection that comes from the family. We want the therapists to feel the excitement of his uncle—to understand the full dimension that Theo is in.”

Bird’s Eye View

Yes, the view from Fresco’s back is pretty remarkable. From up there, a bigger picture slides into focus. “If you don’t collaborate with a horse, you fall off,” laughs Matthew. “It’s a very good example of being authentic and learning how to play nice with others.”

The view from a Tyze network is something remarkable too. From there a broader landscape springs into focus, one that includes all the colours and aspects of a person’s life. And as with us all, Theo’s life gets colour though his relationships.

According to Matthew, the truth is that Theo is a great relationship builder. “He’s a cheeky little monkey with a sideways glance that gets ‘em every time. I envy him, even, the ease and grace with which he draws people in. The trick isn’t for us to help him build relationships; it’s to set the stage for him to do so himself.”

And in today’s modern world, what does such a stage look like? Where can we connect professionals, community and people experiencing a challenge? Where can we bring air and water to the relationships that are our lifeline?

Could it be a space like Tyze, a welcoming hub where everyone can so easily come together to care? A simple platform where information is shared, relationships are solidified and where we can instill dignity into the healing process?

Now that’s a horse worth riding.

A Question of Trust

There's no doubt about it. Marriage is as challenging as it is rewarding. Having children raises the stakes even higher. Add a child with a complex and rare genetic condition and all bets are off. But with 18 years under our belts, two children under 8, and our view that life with Theo is a chance for innovation, Leslie and I can safely say we were beating the odds. It's not always easy, mind you. When they surface, our disagreements come armed with years of ammunition and rarely fail to injure.

I have to confess that just last month, in the midst of my last newsletter article describing our stalled estate planning, we were experiencing some of the deepest tensions of our partnership. I guess I really asked for it, then, in my open admission of our unresolved Will. I'm conscious that 'putting it out there' can create unexpected results, but I was profoundly surprised when my friend and colleague Mary Hamilton from Davis, a long-time supporter of PLAN's, called me the next morning, encouraging us to come in and complete our Will with her help.

Mary's invitation generated equal parts gratitude and anxiety. Given that we were, at that moment, balanced in a fragile relationship 'cease fire', just how nervous were we about actually doing this? Thankfully, with an outstanding offer to help, there was no time to decide, and we set off for her downtown office the following Monday.

Lawyers offices are, I suspect intentionally, civilized places. The calm and urbane air, beautiful west coast art, served to settle the butterflies. With something so grown-up at hand, we found it easy to suspend are anxieties and focus on the mature task of securing Theo and Celeste's futures. Which is, I guess, a more palatable way to think about planning for the end of our own.

Thankfully, with Mary's arrival, we found ourselves swept along by her skill and experience. She made it seem quite natural; rattling through questions about what would happen after our death began to seem like leaving instructions to the housekeeper before going away for a long weekend. We had given quite a bit of thought to guardianship and so on, so any debates prompted by Mary's questions were short and predicable. But things got interesting when Mary asked if we would like to assign enduring power of attorney to one another.

Suddenly, we were at a fork in the road: Did we trust our relationship?

Staring into each others eyes, the answer for us was obvious: Of course, our daily trials were trivial compared to the deep commitment and friendship we shared. We would freely give each other complete freedom to manage the others affairs. We weren't going anywhere.

And there, I realized, was where estate planning met the real world: with Trust. What a great value to enshrine in law. But at the same time, no law could replace or repair real trust. For that, and the real security it meant for each other and Theo and Celeste, we had only each other and the strength of our relationship. And that, I realized was the foundation for good estate planning: any trust is only as secure as the relationships behind it.

I know now how lucky we are. Preparing our will together provided us with good relationship therapy. It established not only a more secure future for Theo and Celeste, but exposed clearly to us the bedrock of our relationships and future together: Our trust.

Belonging in the Grocery Store

I had an odd, and somewhat uncomfortable ‘un-belonging’ experience in the grocery store today when a man, very kindly but cautiously, approached me and asked if he could ask about our son (assuming the boy in the stroller was my son).

He was nice, and tried to be sensitive, but really, would you walk up to a stranger in the grocery store and ask: “Can I ask about your daughter, she looks different with her red hair. How is her social life?” Of course you wouldn’t, especially not with an undercurrent of trepidation and that thank-god-it’s-your-life-not-mine look in your eyes.

The thing was, without knowing it, he shattered our sense of belonging. We were not at the grocery store to do missionary work for the disability movement (we do a lot of that but when and where we choose thank you very much), just to buy a few things for dinner. We were not, in that moment - or most other family moments for that matter - ‘disabled’. We were just a family enjoying a sunny afternoon out together. Kind as he was, our stranger took that from us. Without meaning to or realizing it, he labeled, not just our son, but our whole family.

In all honestly, he took it from us to a degree that surprised me. I felt hurt and cornered, singled out as the ‘poor family with a disabled son’. Next time, and any other time morbid curiosity piques his mind, he should keep it to himself. We’ve all earned the right to enjoy our lives, no matter who we are. It will serve him well at parties, too.

So does it make me feel better to realize he was just the one who had to ask?

Strangely, yes, it does make me feel better that the rest of the shoppers ignored us. They also ignored the women with the too-large fake boobs, the teenage humming too loudly to himself behind his iPhone-fed earphones, and the old woman poking and sniffing too many apples. We are all left, with our oddities, blissfully ignorant of the musings of strangers; free to carry on our own personal musings. Candid conversation among friends (or anonymous blogs posts) are an important way to gain and share insight.

The unchecked curiosity of strangers voiced unexpectedly is damaging and intrusive. And yes, there is a tricky grey area in there. But it’s a space that can be managed with a smile, and an appreciative comment like. “Gosh, you folks sure have your hands full!” would have broken the ice better at the grocery store. Belonging in our day-to-day lives looks no different than the thoughtful kindness our grandmothers taught us.

Firebird at the Cultch: A Feast of Talent

It was a real treat to have the opportunity to enjoy The Firebird at the East Van Cultural Centre (The Cultch) last night. It was truly an evening of collaborative innovation.

A ballet written by Igor Stravinsky in 1909, the original Firebird was one of the seminal works of early 20th Century music. With Stravinsky's Rite of Spring, they set the stage for the new shape of music. With it's dramatic emotional and sonic outburts, clashing chords and stacato interplays bordering on chaos, it's deeply reflective of the seismic shifts rocking classical art and music at the turn of the century, sweeping in a new modern age. The Firebird was to classical music what Duchamp's Nude Descending a Staircase was to portraiture. Jarring, exciting and thoroughly modern.

But to us in 2011, orchestral music and ballet from 1910 is, well, classical. Despite the fact that  70's rock bands Yes and Manfred Mann both sampled The Firebird, we can't escape it's vintage. It was exciting, then, to experience Stravinsky's seminal work so refreshingly updated. Conductor Owen Underhill was a joy to watch as he energetically led the Turning Point Ensemble through Michael Bushnell's unique and surprisingly lean version. Lean because The Firebird was orginally scored for a massive orchestra, complete with 3 harps and a piano.  There was a harp, and a piano, but with only 17 other players, the results were no less compelling.

In fact, given the complexity of Stravinsky's score, Turning Point's feat was all the more impressive. What could have been an exercise in reduction, became one of attention. With only one of each instrument, every player became a soloist. With no margin for error in Bushnells distillation, our attention was riveted to every note. The tension was lovely, and neither violin nor double bass, french horn nor picollo once let us down.

Returning after Intermission presented a set change, with the orchestra perched on a sculptural scaffolding framing what was now a dance floor. Designed by Vancouver sculptor Allan Story, the gleaming aluminum structure was part scaffold, part scultpure and part, well, bird cage. Like the machine-age from which The Firebird was born, it became a fitting platform for the evocative modern dance rendition before it.

Simone Orlando choreographed for Move: The Company an austere but deeply moving story, drawn more on the essence of the original Firebird, than it's princely tale. Driven by Jocelyn Morlock's original music, the taught and intense movements of the dancers cauld not help but to draw us into this simple, mythic tale of loss, doubt, acceptance and redemption. Like the shows first half, it presented a reduction stronger for it's focus and tension. As the story unfolds, so too does Story's set, revealing surprising dimension and ingenuity, from both dancer and designer. In the final, sweeping scene, we are reminded of this sculptor's confidence with movement and scale, while dancer Josh Beam celebrates our majestic frailty.

Music, Dance, Sculpture (and architecture, too, if you count the rebuilt venue) then, collaborate in this innovative work to make new our appreciation for these classical arts. Immersed in the frenzied technology of our own time, there's a comfort here in the reminiscence that, while our cages have changed, the struggles we face are timeless. There's comfort too, in hearing the soundtrack of our modern drama played on ancient instruments. Perhaps if they can endure so patiently, and emerge to play to our time so poignantly, so too can we.

Our Quest for Security

    It started innocently enough; I just wanted to find out a little more about life insurance. Two years ago I had begun to learn about how life insurance could be used as a saving and estate planning tool to effectively pass wealth from parents to children. Was this something Leslie and I could do to create security for Theo? 

    My excitement quickly led to confusion. There was lots to learn about about the kinds of insurance available and, having just opened Theo's RDSP, we wanted to understand how the insurance could become part of a larger financial planning strategy for Theo. Thankfully, the planner I was working with, while unfamiliar with the specifics of planning for disability, was young and eager for new clients, so he played along while we learned. The first thing he learned was that, unlike the insurance we were interested in, he could not earn any commission from managing Theo's RDSP. "Don't worry" he said, "I'm committed to your overall plan." So we got to work figuring out what kind of insurance to buy, how much to invest in Theo's RDSP now, how much to invest annually, whether we should create an 'inter-vivos' or 'testamentary' discretionary trust and other ideas, all with the goal of providing him a secure and predictable financial future.

    Things got complicated quickly: RDSP deposit limits, discretionary trusts, wills, disability benefits, projected rates of return, and so on. My planner and I both started to feel like we were getting more than we bargained for. I was quickly changing from being the exciting client, to the pain in the you-know-what client. But we forged ahead, trying to map out what Theo's financial future could look like. Then a strange thing happened: My planner showed me a graph. It illustrated the growing value of my life insurance policy, right up until I died. There it was: the end of the line. My death reduced neatly to the end of a curve on a graph. On that day, my life would end and my policy would get deposited into Theo's account. Done.

    Something interesting happened after the shock wore off, however. Leslie and I accepted the fact, and started to plan for it, at least theoretically. Fine, we said. If it's going to happen let's look it straight in the face. So we started thinking about our wills, not as just a document, but as a real tool that we could use to benefit Theo and Celeste. Being the overachievers that we are, we really dove into it, thinking not just about our deaths in the distant future, but the possibility - God forbid - of it happening accidentally anytime. This led us to consider guardianship. Theo and Celeste are only 7 and 6. If something happened to us, without a will that named a guardian for them, they would immediately be put under the care of the Public Guardian. I've met BC's Public Guardian, Jay Chalke. He's a nice man and runs the Office of the Public Guardian very well, but Theo and Celeste's dad? Without a Will, if our family wanted to take over guardianship, they would have to petition the PGT, a process that could take over a year. Right, call the lawyer.

    I asked a lawyer friend, someone I'd worked with for years, if she'd be willing to be our advisor and Executor. We needed some advice since we had some ideas about how we wanted to structure the guardianship piece because we faced a dilemma:  Like many people these days, we'd left our families behind and moved to Vancouver from Ontario in the 90's. While the ultimate choice, naming either of our brothers or sisters as guardians of Theo and Celeste would create an immense immediate upheaval in their lives should the unthinkable happen.  Could we name an interim guardian? Someone from our network in Vancouver to step in and keep the thread of their lives going and manage a longer term transition to a family guardian? "Could they sleep in their own beds and go to school the next day?" was our guiding question.

    Now, two years later, we're not much farther ahead. My physical for the life insurance unearthed a pre-existing condition that would almost double our rates. We got an estimate for drafting the will we were conceiving. We realized just how much we'd need to deposit in Theo's account today if we really wanted to secure for him the future we imagined. My planner moved to another firm and lost interest in us. Theo does have his RDSP, and we deposit a small amount regularly, but it's not enough to meet the ambitious goals we had. Tough realities, not just for us, but for every family facing the same challenges. I do gain strange comfort from knowing that, at 7 years old, Theo is at the absolute youngest end of people with RDSP's in Canada. The vast majority of account holders are in their 30's and older. Despite my anxieties and ambitions, perhaps there's still time  - with the help of compound interest and a manageable insurance premium - to make our dreams come true.