By Robyn Murray

*The views, thoughts, and opinions expressed in this text belong solely to the author, and not necessarily to the author’s employer, organization, committee or other group or individual.

When I first learned about Leadership Omaha, I knew this was my dream program. Getting to learn about the critical issues that Omaha faces with a group of like-minded people who care about the city and want to build a better future — what could be better? As a policy wonk who loves getting into the weeds of why things work and as someone who can never seem to narrow down my interests to one field, this experience sounded tailor-made. 

The only problem — those other people I was excited to meet… I had to not only meet them, I had to do a crash course get-to-know-them weekend where we would not only spend nearly every hour together for two and a half days, but we would also be sharing our personal stories, playing ice breaker games and even doing skits. Oh, and we’d be sharing a hotel room with a roommate we’d never laid eyes on. 

Policy wonk, check. Curious about everything, check. Cares about this city, check. Extrovert who loves hanging out with strangers… not quite.

For the week leading up to our opening retreat at Mahoney State Park, I was super nervous. And as I drove along I-80, I thought at least once about turning around and calling in sick. But some good advice from a friend and previous LO graduate kept me going. She told me to say yes. Say yes to everything I could. Even if I felt nervous or hesitant, just go for it anyway, because it will be worth it. 

And yeah, she was right. 

The retreat started off with introductions and a few words from our curriculum committee, who were also LO graduates. My fellow LO class members were impressive but not intimidating. It seemed everyone wanted to be there, and we all wanted to create a safe space where we could get to know each other and feel comfortable. The tone was set by our group leaders, Daniela and Alexander, who were welcoming, warm and excited to get to know us all.

One of our first activities was a three-minute listening exercise. We broke into groups of four, were handed three questions to choose from, and each of us took a turn responding to the question for three, uninterrupted minutes. As the speaker, three minutes did not end up feeling that long. But as a listener, three minutes felt like an inordinate amount of time not to jump in with a question or share a thought. Listening without preparing your own interjection really changes the experience. You actually listen. 

The first day ended with a group activity that further helped to break the ice, although the ice was pretty well-cracked after sharing and hearing from each other all day. The game was simple — the moderators called out choices like mountain or beach, coffee or tea, dogs or cats and we all headed to different parts of the room to take our preferred stand. We laughed about the merits of mixing bourbon with coffee versus tea and the sparse numbers of “cat people” in the room. (I mean, really, who are all these dog lovers? Don’t they know dogs smell?!)

We retired to our rooms pretty wiped out. My roommate was a night owl like me (they paired night owls and early risers), and, as it turned out, a chronic insomniac. Unfortunately, I was too exhausted to feel bad as I fell asleep in 30 seconds and she stayed up to watch a movie until way past midnight. But she was used to operating on little sleep. Happily, she was kind and courteous, and we shared the space easily. 

The next morning, some people started their day along Mahoney’s beautiful web of walking trails while others enjoyed the breakfast buffet. (Mahoney did an awesome job of providing delicious food and an array of options for the gluten-free, vegan and dairy-free among us.)

When the activities kicked off, we dove into our Strengths (LO leans into Clifton Strengths, and we all did the Strengths assessment before the retreat began). I’d done several Strengths exercises at work, but Alexander added new perspectives and depth to our conversations that were both insightful and useful. 

The rest of our sessions that day were led by Jeff Shannon, who brought energy and fun to the room. One of the most meaningful was another crash course in getting to know each other. After meeting with our small groups, which we will be working with for the remainder of the 10-month experience, we gathered to share six-minute, uninterrupted monologues telling each other our life stories. We heard reflections on marriages, kids, divorces, losses. One member of our group shared their refugee story; another shared her departure from her faith over their rejection of her trans child’s journey. It was heartbreaking and heartwarming. And if you ever want to feel close to a group of strangers fast, try this exercise. It works. 

We ended the day doing a creative exercise where we each painted a square that came together to form a mosaic. As we took turns standing up, setting our squares in place and sharing what we had painted, it felt like a beautiful moment of so many voices, experiences and backgrounds coming together to create something new. By this time, my nerves had entirely given way, and I was filled with joy to be in the room with this amazing group of people.

After the day’s activities came to a close, we kept the fun going at KC’s Eastside Saloon, which apparently is quite used to opening their doors to 50 LO members arriving at once. We scribbled our names on $1 bills and taped them to the wall, adding to a monumental collection. We toasted each other, heard more about our journeys to get there and celebrated being together on this novel experience. 

On the third day, which ended at noon, we discussed our values and how we make decisions. We talked about difficult issues and how we felt about discussing them. We shared our goals for the remaining 10 months, and many of us listed showing up, listening to learn, connecting, and keeping open minds and open hearts. 

By the close, we felt ready for whatever the next 10 months would bring, knowing we each had 49 new friends to support us on the journey.

Blog #2

I’m a little behind on this blog, but I have good reasons. Not only have the holidays already kicked my butt, even though the Christmas season is barely underway, but our Great 48 group has been keeping me busy with volunteer activities and fun social gatherings ranging from taking in a Union soccer game to watching The Beatles, aka Omaha’s own Billy McGuigan, perform at The Slowdown. I can’t pass these things up. 

So, today, we have two Great 48 sessions to catch up on. 

The City Environment

The first was our very first day-long seminar as official Great 48 members. It was a deep dive into our city environment, which sounds like it would fall somewhere along the lines of “parks” but went a lot further and began with a bit of context: How did Omaha become Omaha? 

We met at the Durham Museum, where our museum guide kicked off our session with a tour through the museum’s grand Art Deco architecture, which we learned was often less grand than it appeared (e.g., the “marble” floors are actually stained concrete — America’s version of Art Deco included some cost-saving shortcuts). We visited the Swanson Gallery, which has a special place in my heart as my wedding venue, and took in the murals that depict the settling of the West. Some in the group noticed how monolithically white the railroad laborers are, when in fact a very diverse group of mostly immigrants built America’s railroads. 

Our guide then led us to an auditorium, where she introduced Omaha’s history as a city built by many. Native tribes shaped the land, and immigrants from around the world brought their cultures, traditions, languages and foods to create the city we know today. She talked about the many small businesses that form the backbone of Omaha’s neighborhoods and said, “We’re a city that builds big things quietly.” 

That led to a panel discussion with Eric Ewing and Magdalena Garcia, executive directors, respectively, of the Great Plains Black History Museum and El Museo Latino. Ewing and Garcia talked about the often-untold histories of Black and Latino Omahans and their contributions to the city. Ewing spoke to the importance of understanding each other’s contributions. “People see each other as less than because they don’t understand the contributions they’ve made,” he said. I thought that was insightful, and it made me think of my own experience growing up as a white person in South Africa and how our history textbooks were made up almost exclusively of European and white South African history. That was the standard until our first multiracial elections in 1994, after which we all got crash courses in Black South African history, which upended the deeply embedded white nationalistic narratives of apartheid.

After the panel discussion, we listened to a presentation from We Make Omaha, a city work group tasked with updating Omaha’s master plan, which we discovered has not been revised in 30 years. Among other enlightening/shocking facts: Omaha hasn’t comprehensively updated its zoning code since the 1980s. That explains a lot. 

The We Make Omaha facilitators then guided us through small group discussions where we identified challenges, areas of potential change and solutions. It was interesting how much consensus there was about the city’s problems — lack of affordable housing, unreliable public transportation, few walkable neighborhoods, among others — and what kind of city we’d all like to live in. Our group’s views were pretty much in line with the city’s findings from numerous other focus groups. So, what are the barriers to making that change happen? Our group’s facilitator said Omaha is unique among other cities, in that many are stopped by a simple lack of funds. But Omaha’s philanthropic community could quite quickly solve many of the challenges we identified. If the problem isn’t funds, is it a willingness to change? A lack of foresight? Whatever it is, it’s frustrating. Some members of our group talked about ways they had tried to work with the city to make small improvements, like creating parklets in Benson (extendedsidewalks that can be used for public-focused amenities) or fixing a broken swing at a neighborhood park. But their attempts went nowhere. 

As usual, our LO 48 leader, Daniela Rojas Florez, prompted us to push ourselves beyond the inertia of cynicism and think about what we can do as leaders to change the status quo and move Omaha forward. 

Inclusivity

In November, the Great 48 gathered for our second all-day session, which was focused on inclusivity. We began the day at the sprawling 60-acre campus of QLI, one of the most remarkable and sought-after physical rehabilitation centers in the country. That place is amazing. People with brain and spinal cord injuries come from around the country, and probably the world, to be rehabilitated with the help of highly advanced technology (including the ZeroG, which uses a harness and weight-bearing support to help people learn to walk again) and expert staff, who were knowledgeable and compassionate. 

We heard from two young QLI residents, one from Omaha and one from California, who had suffered severe spinal injuries in accidents earlier this year and were undergoing rehabilitation at QLI. It was clear how much support they had received in their journeys, as they were both incredibly positive and resilient. 

QLI has also been voted seven times as the best place to work in Omaha, and it was pretty obvious why during our visit. The president and CEO of QLI is Nash Mahupete, an immigrant from Zimbabwe, who started at the company as a CNA. Numerous others we talked to hadworked at QLI for decades, a testament to the culture of nurturing employees’ growth and being a place where people want to be. 

At the opening of our session, we heard from Cammy Watkins, the executive director of Inclusive Communities, whose presentation was loaded with impactful takeaways. Watkins talked about the concept of “ubuntu,” another callback to South Africa’s oddly important role in these conversations, which is a Southern African proverb that roughly translates to “I am because you are” or “a person is a person through other people.” South Africa’s Archbishop Desmond Tutu is one of many who introduced the phrase to Western culture. 

Then Watkins had us line up for a quick exercise. We stood in two rows, facing each other, and as she called out phrases like “I was raised by a single parent” or “I grew up in a small town” or “I sometimes hide parts of myself to be accepted by others,” we all took steps forward when the words resonated. She asked us to look to either side and notice who was standing with us and who was not. I was surprised by how often I stepped forward and how many others stepped with me. 

“My perception is my reality, but your perspective is my wisdom” — that was just one nugget from Watkins that I had to write down. She also talked about how inclusivity depends on effectiveness trumping rightness. She said cancel culture had made it more important to call people out instead of calling people in, and while it may make us feel righteous to stand against offensive comments or behavior, it doesn’t really do anything to actually stop the offensive comments or behavior. Changing the culture is a lot harder and requires communicating with people from every side, not just the ones we agree with. Communicating with the purpose of understanding, not persuading. Leading with empathy and curiosity over judgement. 

Our next stop was a hidden gem in our community: Outlook Nebraska, a nonprofit serving the blind and visually impaired, which also manages a manufacturing plant. We walked through the factory, where they make paper towels and toilet paper, and were stunned to see people winding their way around massive machinery using canes as their only guides. The purpose of the factory is not only to employ a demographic that is severely underemployed, but to show industries that if accommodations can be made in the hands-on, potentially dangerous environment of a factory, then similar accommodations can be made by virtually any employer. 

Outlook’s employees walked us through adaptive technologies that enable blind and visually impaired people to use machinery and appliances, browse shopping websites and do a range of computer-based work. Most of the adaptions are not expensive. It’s just the mindset that needs to shift. 

We ended our day with a presentation from the Center for Immigrant and Refugee Advancement, which became a discussion about ICE raids and the prevalent fear among immigrant communities today. One of our members encouraged us to remember that immigrants are our neighbors, friends and colleagues and that we all deserve to be treated with dignity. As an immigrant myself, I wondered about the different experience I had coming into the country. While I had to wait 15 years and pay thousands of dollars to become a citizen, I was never treated as a scourge, or less than. It was a reminder that the immigration debate is not really about immigration; it’s about race and class. Just like so many other things. The “other,” the ones that don’t look like us, the ones we demonize and the ones whose stories we bury. 

It’s the same cycle, on repeat. Will we be the ones to break it?  

Economic Development

Our third session was focused on economic development. And while, yes, there were several charts and data explainers, we mostly focused on the human element of our economy. Our group met at Metropolitan Community College’s impressive Automotive Training Center, which opened in 2021. Seated in a classroom above an expansive workshop lined with trucks, cars and high-tech auto equipment I would never be able to identify, we learned from MCC faculty and staff about how they are laser focused on training students for jobs that exist right now and working with businesses to ensure students are well-prepared to enter the workforce. I thought their commitment to mission was admirable. This was not about the lofty goals of a liberal arts education (which were drilled into me as a student of the British education system). This was about raising the earning power of students in a short amount of time and making sure our city and state have the workers they need to power our economy. 

MCC is about pragmatism. One example they gave — 87% of MCC students have full-time jobs,and those jobs typically don’t offer paid leave or flexibility so students can go to college. So MCC created the Career Forward program, which pays students $16/hour to attend classes. The impression I came away with was that MCC wants to identify and understand the challenges students face and the needs in our community and then take practical, realistic steps to bridge the gap. 

We also learned about MCC’s 180 Re-Entry Assistance Program, which is now the longest-standing prison education program in Nebraska. It’s run by a formerly incarcerated individual, Diane Good-Collins, whose obvious passion for helping others with similar backgrounds fueled the program’s creation. It has been around for 10 years and has served more than 11,000 people leaving the corrections system in Nebraska. Diane quoted the MCC president when she told him their program had become the largest on-campus re-entry center in the nation. He said, “We didn’t start a re-entry program to be the pioneers or the largest. We did it because it’s the right thing to do.” That was telling about the culture at MCC and what really drives them. 

The MCC session was followed by an afternoon at FNBO where we had small-group conversations with several people who play different roles in our local economy — Kimara Snipes, who empowers neighborhoods as executive director of One Omaha; LaVonya Goodwin, city councilmember from Omaha’s District 2; Andrea Purdy-Steenholdt from Omaha Municipal Landbank; and Itzel Lopez, founder and director of the Latino Economic Development Council, who I didn’t have a chance to see. We rotated to hear from each guest in a smaller session, which provided more opportunity to ask questions. It still felt like there wasn’t enough time for the kinds of deep conversations I think most people in our group would like to have. I especially liked talking to Kimara Snipes, who spoke about the role of neighborhoods in the success of small businesses. Neighborhoods create demand, she said, they’re not just supply. If residents feel included and heard, they have a sense of ownership in the business and are more likely to support it. 

We closed the day with a panel of entrepreneurs who shared their stories as founders and business owners. They included Candice Price, president and CEO of Home Team Auto Sales;Gladys Harrison, who took over Big Mama’s Kitchen and Catering from her mother; Brandon Louis, owner of Huskerland Popcorn (which makes the greatest assortment of popcorn flavors you could ask for); James Overton, the owner of Southern Spoon; and Tommi DeLeone from Astute Coffee. It was inspiring to hear about how they turned an idea into a tangible place or product, how they kept going after failure and took risks. Each business was also about being rooted in community and they all gave back in different ways, through scholarships, employing formerly incarcerated people or giving young people their first real job experience. It amazed me that in the midst of taking the risk of business ownership, they doubled down by investing in the community. The panel challenged us to think about how we can support small businesses, which are so fundamental to our local economies and community vibrancy. Can we ask our employers to look at local companies when catering our meetings or filling supply orders? Can we change our habits so that we don’t automatically go to Target or Wal-Mart for something we could find at a local store? For my part, I did a lot of Christmas shopping at local stores this year, which is why I know how great Huskerland popcorn is. That’s just one small thing. But if we all make one small change…