AGREEMENTS: Lessons I Chose on My Journey toward the Light. Linda Stein-Luthke

job at the label and decal company only lasted about two years. It ended shortly after I became sales manager. I had grown to love the freedom of the road doing sales. I would drop Todd off at a nearby daycare and then plan my day without being answerable to anyone. I just needed to bring in the right numbers. Eventually I did that job so well, that I got promoted right out of an enjoyable situation. When I was made sales manager I had to spend most of my days in an office. However, too much office politics along with someone looking over my shoulder didn’t set well with me.

      One afternoon, my boss called me in to his office to ask me to honestly assess how I felt the company was being run. In an act of extreme foolishness, I took his request seriously and let him know that the production staff was being unnecessarily exposed to toxic chemicals from the paints and solvents used in production. Since some of the women were pregnant or of child-bearing age, I thought this system should be changed and gave him ideas of how this could be done by providing adequate ventilation in the areas of greatest exposure. I also let him know that inviting me to help him pick out drapes for his new fancy home in the suburbs was probably not a good use of my time. It did make me feel resentful since I was working so hard just to feed my family, while he was taking office time to decorate his home. He, in turn, let me know that his feelings had been hurt when he had not been invited to my wedding. This astounded me. Our relationship had always been strictly business, so his feelings really surprised me.

      The next day I was fired. I asked for and received unemployment compensation. Since my husband had found a job in radio in our area, I took some time just to look around at my life and see what I really wanted to do versus what I needed to do just to survive.

      A group of feminist friends were bringing an accomplished artist and author, Judy Chicago to town with her exhibit called The Dinner Party. This exhibit was considered groundbreaking because Judy had used her talents to make sculptured plates for the place settings that depicted the female genitalia of notable women in history. The tables were covered with ornate tapestry that told the women’s stories. These tapestries had been embroidered by women from all over the world. There were also other exhibits that showed additional information about women’s history and goals. In spite of the subject matter, the overall effect was quite stunning and beautiful. Since I had been a fan of Judy’s work for years, I agreed to volunteer to put an ad book together for the exhibit.

      I had a wonderful time that spring because I was able to be with Todd, who had just turned five. I’d had to pull him out of daycare since the expense was too great now that I wasn’t working. I would take him with me on the road as I sold ad space. We sang and laughed our way through the eastern suburbs as the ad book took shape.

      I was sitting at a board meeting with the finished ad book when I learned that the very powerful women who surrounded me on the board had fired the current director and wanted me for the job. I was blown away, but since the money was good and it would be work I could enjoy and wanted to do, versus what I had to do, I accepted.

      Prior to the opening of the exhibit, I was walking between my office and the exhibit area one morning, negotiating between the powerful lesbian construction crew and the board members, when I heard a voice in my head very distinctly say: Don’t take yourself too seriously. Keep your mouth closed about your personal opinions about anything you hear and see. Be kind to everyone and just enjoy. This is just something you do, not who you are.

      Somehow I instantly understood this to mean that there was more to me than the work I was now doing. It was an instruction to not become ego-invested in what I was doing, but instead to stay true to something more that was inside me. I didn’t know what that “something more” might be, but it was speaking those words to me, and I knew it was wiser than my ego that could have made a real mess of things. I was now the Director of the Dinner Party Exhibit. That title could have easily gone to my head.

      I listened to that voice, having absolutely no idea where it was coming from. But the advice was good and served me well. Most folks thought I was doing a great job. In reality, all I was doing was listening and letting all these incredibly qualified people do what they knew to do best. I was virtually clueless as to how to run an art exhibit myself, so I really had no other choice but to do what this voice had guided me to do.

      This adventure also opened me up to realizing that life could be more than a constant struggle. I could actually enjoy what I was doing and make choices based on what felt right to me, not what I felt I had to do. No one in my world had ever seemed to think that was possible except my husband, who had always loved radio and could never have done anything else with his life, and be happy. I had been raised to think that work was something you had to do in order to eat, not something you did because you enjoyed yourself doing it.

      Being such an important part of the exhibit gave me extensive exposure in the community. As director, I was called upon to fulfill many functions and accept recognition. I really didn’t believe I deserved the recognition and got a few lectures from other board members about my reticence. When celebrities came to town to view the exhibit, I was called upon to walk them through the exhibit and answer any questions they might have. There were always cameras and reporters from the media to record these events. Once again, I was appearing in the papers and on air. Was I ready? It didn’t seem to matter. It was just happening.

      After the exhibit closed, I decided to just sell advertising for a local arts magazine that I’d enjoyed collaborating with while the exhibit was going on. They were delighted to have me. All I asked for was my freedom to be left alone to do my own thing. I promised I would make money for them, which I did and in return, for the better part of two years, I was my own boss.

      Because of all my new connections, I was able to help my husband get a job at the local Public Radio station that had just been formed. We were now in a position to attend all entertainment and political functions that interested us. We were receiving free tickets and invitations. It was an exciting time for both of us.

      Exciting things were also still happening with the group who’d brought The Dinner Party to Cleveland. I’d realized that we had the only venue in the country that was going to make a substantial profit. As I was looking at the numbers one day, again the voice came to me: Use this money to start a foundation for women and children. This seemed like a wonderful idea, so that is what I suggested to the board. The idea took hold.

      As I began to make my own voice heard in board meetings, I came to realize that this Women and Children’s foundation was really desperately needed. I knew I had to help create it. I told my husband that if I could just help create this foundation, I’d feel as if I’d really accomplished something in life and could die a happy woman.

      After lengthy arbitration among all the parties involved, negotiations and a few fights, the foundation was born. I was asked to be the vice president of this foundling organization and though I felt unsure if I could do the job since I’d never been vice president of anything before, I accepted.

      This all took place right about the time my eldest son, Zack was being asked to be part of a community Bar Mitzvah celebration called B’nai Mitzvah. We had chosen to belong to the Jewish Secular Community since neither my husband nor I were observant. This organization did not have any formal religious services but chose to celebrate Judaism by creating observances that were motivated by moralistic rather than spiritual precepts.

      After my parents died, I didn’t have family nearby to reinforce any religious belief system in me. I was still questioning everything, but knew that my boys would need some understanding of their heritage, so this organization fit our needs.

      Bar Mitzvahs and B’nai Mitzvahs are expensive, and although our income was now adequate, it would never cover this expense. I realized I’d need to earn more money. And more money should show up.

      A national academic test preparation company had just lost their local director. They were an account of mine for the magazine. As I sat in their local offices with the acting director from New York, the inner voice came to me again, and I heard myself saying, “I can do this job.” This time, the words issuing from my mouth really surprised me,