Lincoln Archives - Page 6 of 7

Jill Liliedahl

By Asha Timperley

Jill Liliedahl is a self-professed crazy dog lady. We’re talking the, she and her husband made a Facebook for their dog caliber of crazy dog lady.

Which is why it makes perfect sense that she’s the CEO of SitStay – an online marketplace for dog supplies.

But working at SitStay wasn’t part of Jill’s plan, mostly, because a lot of her story is about changing plans, trying new things and finding her place.

In college, Jill was a political science major who didn’t want to go into politics. She went down the social work track and then on to earn a graduate degree in sociology. She’s lived on the east coast, dove in to the nonprofit world and moved back to Lincoln. She took a job that exposed her to the startup scene and then ended up launching a premium popsicle business. Now, she’s at SitStay.

These are just the highlights, but you get the idea – Jill has had a lot of jobs.

It’s not because she’s flakey or indecisive, actually it’s the exact opposite – Jill is crazy smart. She has a high capacity for learning and trying new things, but this has also been a challenge for her. She’s interested in so many things, that picking one seemed incredibly difficult.

But more than her litany of jobs, what’s held Jill’s story together is her family and her community.

Jill grew up in Hastings, Nebraska, a town less than two hours west of Lincoln. As a kid, she watched her mom open her own fabric store. Jill thought the shop was just another cool place to hang out, but as she got older, she realized that not everyone gets to watch their mom start something.

Sure, it wasn’t some techy, hard-hitting business, but it was her mom’s way of meeting a need in their community and Jill was proud of that.

So, when Jill started her speciality popsicle business her mom and dad jumped right in. Their phrase was, “Let us know what you need!” and they meant it.

Sure, it may have been just popsicles, but that didn’t keep them from spending every summer Saturday at the Farmer’s Market with Jill. Her family became her go-to taste testers, sales team and chief marketing officers – they knew the startup world because they’d been there.

And while Jill loved what she did, and her family understood, she realized that running a business – whether it’s popsicles or dog supplies – can be isolating. Her schedule, interests and frustrations felt unique, and yet she wondered if there were more people out there with similar struggles. It was hard because Jill felt like she’d found her place, she was building a company and using her wide range of skills, but something was missing.

Jill shared this with her friend, Amber Pankonin, and in 2013 they started a group called Ladies Launch Lincoln as a way to connect with female entrepreneurs. They were shocked at the number of women (and men) who showed up to talk shop, get advice and share their latest ideas.

The group became Jill’s safe place. It was where she received tangible advice, but also where she saw her story more clearly.

She realized that a roundabout academic and job history was pretty common in the startup world, and it didn’t matter that she was a former poli-sci major or wasn’t necessarily putting her Master’s degree to work every day.

Perfect planning, while tidy and helpful, hasn’t propelled Jill. Instead, it’s been the love and support of her family and an amazing community.

Jill’s story can be confusing because of her long list of loosely connected jobs, but it’s also extremely simple. It’s about pursuing what she loves, being content in the unknown and pushing forward, knowing full well that sometimes no plan is the best plan.

February 24, 2016

Love5

Dan Nelson

By Asha Timperley

We’ll cut to the chase and let you know that you’ve probably never met Dan Nelson or heard his story.

But, you may have tasted his kettle corn.

If you’ve ever had kettle corn at the Lincoln Farmers’ Market, there’s a good chance it was made by Dan.

He’s the guy in the tent meticulously watching and stirring the big, metal pot with bubbling sugar and freshly popped corn. His wife and sons often help him sell bags of the still warm kettle corn or give out the coveted sample cups to anxious market browsers.

But this is just Dan’s summer/weekend job. During the week, Dan is the owner and founder of Vahallan, a hand-painted wallpaper company.

“I can’t imagine doing anything else,” Dan said. “I’m a professional finger painter.”

The lead-up to Dan’s “finger painting” career was about as nontraditional as his job. He graduated from the University of Kearney with a degree in business administration, considered going back to work on his family’s ranch in Alliance, Neb., and then decided ranch life wasn’t for him.

He moved to Omaha and worked as the manager at Blockbuster Video before trying out the insurance world for a few years. Eventually Dan moved to Lincoln, took a few more college classes, got a job in the medical field and then worked as a manager at Applebee’s.

Then, his brother told him about some hand-painted wallpaper he’d seen and was making, so Dan thought he’d try to make it too. Dan worked 60 hours a week and painted paper for another 40 hours, finding time before and after his day job.

He tested his designs in his sister’s garage and hung the papers over the fence in the backyard to dry.

Yes, that’s really how it all started. No art degree, no risk assessment, no second thought, just jumping in full speed.

Dan said that’s pretty typical for him. He sees something he wants to try and he goes whole hog.

That’s how he got into the popcorn business too. He saw kettle corn at an event, bought a kit to try it out and then started selling at the farmers market. His methods often cue an eye roll from his wife, but she’s always been extremely supportive of his ideas, Dan said.

But just because Dan quickly got into the paper and popcorn business, doesn’t mean it’s easy.

Most of the time it’s borderline crazy, Dan said. Starting a company comes with a host of demands that require Dan’s full attention at all hours of the day. And while his natural creativity propels a large part of his business, the technical elements of managing people, developing a workflow and coming up with ideas to help his company grow are all daily challenges.

It’s stressful too. Creating and selling hand-painted wallpaper is a delicate process. It takes creativity, design know-how, patience and physical strength. The hand-painted look is intricate and freestyle, but it also needs to be uniform and consistent enough to fit seamlessly into homes, offices, hotels and restaurants.

And while Dan doesn’t have any direct competitors in Lincoln, he does have competitors, big ones.

At times, Dan feels like a little fish in a big pond, and other days he gets a call from BCBG, Saks Fifth Avenue, one of his international suppliers or a famous baseball player who wants Vahallan paper in their space.

It’s a constant up and down, and as he gets older, it’s harder for him to handle.

Dan isn’t a peppy guy with a flashy smile. He’s simple and to the point. In true Nebraska form, he says what he means and works until the job is done.

He has a seemingly endless stream of ideas for designs, many of which use natural elements like pine needles and twine to give his paper a unique look and feel. But Dan is more than a finger painter, what he’s creating is art.

His story is about laying his chips on the table, going all in, because he’s proud to stand behind two businesses that he’s grateful to call his own.

He’s a fighter and a risk taker, and Dan wouldn’t have it any other way.

February 3, 2016

Love4

Meg Hasselbalch

By Asha Timperley

“I don’t really have much of a story,” said Meg Hasselbalch as she stood in Paper Kite, her little boutique sandwiched between other locally-owned shops on Prescott Avenue.

I smiled a little at her comment, because in my head her story was already taking shape. Meg has a story, even if to her it feels like she’s been ‘winging it’ most of her life.

Meg said she always felt like she was faking it.

In college she jokingly referred to herself a “fake” art student, because she loved art, but never latched on to any one discipline like most other students.

When she discovered her love for boutique shops she got a job at a maternity boutique in San Francisco. People would often say to her, ‘Wait, you’re 22 and you don’t have any kids, but you work in a maternity store?’ Meg would respond with a quick, ‘Yep!’ and then go back to work.

That’s the thing about Meg, she’s present and focused on the task at hand. So despite the fact that working in a maternity shop wasn’t exactly what she pictured doing in her 20s, it was an important part of her story.

She loved working at the maternity boutique and her boss quickly became her mentor, inviting Meg to assist with buying, go to market and pick out items for the shop. The fake feeling was starting to wear off.

Four years later, Meg moved back home to Lincoln. She missed her family, her community and was ready to do something a little different.

She briefly worked in Omaha, designing extravagant window displays for Anthropologie and then came back to Lincoln when she heard about a shop on Prescott Avenue that was moving out of its space.

The name of the shop was Scout. Meg had kept her eye on this shop, thinking that someday it might be a place she could fill with her own ideas. She loved the little architectural touches, the cozy neighborhood where it was located…and the fact that Scout was her middle name.

It finally just fit.

Now, it wasn’t like all the pieces fell into place, but things did happen quickly. Meg ran the idea for her boutique by her friends, family and a financial advisor to see if it was just plain crazy or possible.

She threw together a business plan and talked with her former boss and mentor.

She pieced together various word combinations to land on just the right name and feel for her shop.

It was like a dream, she said, a really stressful but beautiful dream. Meg said her family pitched in right away, painting her space and helping her decorate in record time. She stocked her shelves with gift items and clothing catered to ‘baby, home and her,’ and featured as many local and regional makers as possible.

And on October 1, 2013, Meg opened Paper Kite.

It was a whirlwind, but it was her whirlwind and she was so proud to call Paper Kite her own.

Three months later, Meg and her husband found out they were pregnant with their first child.

Cue whirlwind number two.

“What are we going to do?!” was Meg’s first thought. But in true Meg-style, she kept moving forward.

Battling morning sickness while working six to seven days a week was a full time job that kept Meg plenty busy until her daughter, Mary Frances, entered the world nearly a year to the day after she opened Paper Kite.

It was insane, Meg said, but it worked. She continued working with her dozing daughter snuggled with her in the shop.

People started coming to Paper Kite to see Mary Frances almost as much as to shop, and Meg realized she was well into the second year of owning her own shop. Paper Kite was busy, people loved her shop and Meg loved her job.

It was the right fit.

Meg wandered around her shop telling me about her favorite items and rearranging stacks of notecards or smoothing a sweet little baby outfit just to feel the soft cotton.

Meg said it was important to her that everything went together, even though she was selling everything from candles and cards to corn cob rattles and patterned leggings – it all needed to look like Paper Kite.

Meg’s story is like herself, humble and gracious. It’s about finding her place, mixing her loves and her skills and moving forward when the unexpected turns out better than you expected.

Paper Kite is Meg’s art. It’s not overly complicated – it’s simple, it’s beautiful and it’s hers.

January 26, 2016

Love4

Jay Wilkinson

By Asha Timperley

For Jay Wilkinson, it’s pretty normal to get quoted in nonprofit circles, retweeted by marketing gurus and interviewed on local or national TV…all in one day.

Back in college he started four businesses. Yes, four. One of which went-big and prompted a move to New York City post-graduation.

In 1992, he sold the company that took him to the big city and came back to his home-state of Nebraska.

Upon his return, Jay bought a printing franchise that he eventually turned into Cornerstone Printing and Marketing, which has since become Firespring.

Those big steps, and the little ones in between, are all important milestones in Jay’s story. He’s a well-known entrepreneur, nonprofit activist, community builder and webinar facilitator in Lincoln, but he admittedly has spent a big chunk of his life trying to be someone he’s not – his father.

“He’s my vision of what it’s like to live a life rather than have life happen to you,” Jay said.

Now, it’s not wrong to want to be like your parent, but Jay put a lot of pressure on himself to not only be like his dad, but to be his dad. And much of Jay’s striving to be his father has shaped his own story.

Gilbert (Gil) Wilkinson is a scrappy hustler with a strong work-ethic, a present mindset and a wise spirit. Gil showed up and participated. He was at every practice and football game and he led Jay’s Boy Scout troop, guiding eight boys to achieve the rank of Eagle Scout.

Having a parent like this is amazing, Jay said, but it’s also extremely frustrating. Jay was constantly working to measure up to this incredible man, but nothing he did ever seemed like enough.

This pressure was 100 percent self-inflicted. Jay said his dad never compared their careers, work ethic or abilities. He’d probably hate that Jay has spent so much of his life feeling like he’d come up short. But it’s all part of Jay’s story.

As he grew older and more successful, Jay decided that saving his money and using it to build a massive homage to his father could be his way of paying back his dad for every example and bit of wisdom he’d sewn into Jay’s character.

But if you’re looking for a hospital wing or collegiate library named after Gilbert Wilkinson, you won’t find one. A few years ago, Jay realized that dedicating a building to his father wasn’t where he should be investing his energy.

Jay pulled a piece of off-white paper out of a folder and handed it to me. It’s a quote that he took from an impactful leadership training he attended as a 16-year-old.

“I’ve carried it with me ever since,” Jay said, going on to read the quote.

“ ‘I expect to pass through this world but once. Any good, therefore, that I can do or any kindness I can show, let me do it now. Let me not defer or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again.’ ”

Jay said he’s read this Stephan Grellet quote over and over again, but a few years ago the words ‘do it now’ jumped off the page.

Do it now.

Jay realized that in his constant striving to be his dad or pay him back, he’d been waiting to live out the quote that he’d theoretically structured his life around.

He realized he would never be his dad, and that was ok. He also realized he needed to stop waiting.

So that’s what Jay did.

He changed Firespring’s mission statement to reflect his decision do good in the present, not just the future.

In 2014 Firespring became the first and only certified B-Corp in the state, holding to a high-level of third-party accountability and transparency. It’s a label that requires a company to hold up to its promised giving, not bend to the whims of a good or bad fiscal year.

Jay said this is usually the part in his story where people tend to nod off. After all, everyone has heard about companies ‘giving back’ or incentivising their employees to volunteer and donate. Blah, blah, blah. Right?

But Jay is actually doing this. He’s living up to the bold letters and almost cheesy sayings that are painted on the walls at Firespring. He’s giving, empowering, motivating and teaching as an outpouring of his personal beliefs, not because of the way it looks.

A few years back, Jay probably would have said he was doing all this good for his dad, which would have been okay, but now, he’s doing it because he thinks it’s what matters.

It’s part of his story and his legacy.

Jay can’t be his dad, and that doesn’t bother him anymore.

January 20, 2016

Love7

Pastor Tom Barber

By Asha Timperley

In 1969 he was chosen to travel and sing at venues around the world with a popular group called Up with People.

In 1975 he graduated from Pepperdine University on a full-ride scholarship.

In 1978 he received his MBA from Pepperdine.

In 1990 he managed a Kentucky-based company where he was making six figures and drove a Saab convertible.

“Now, I’m here,” said Pastor Tom Barber, CEO at the People’s City Mission.

Wait, what?

Pastor Tom casually plotted out his career history like he was reading off his resume. He’s straightforward like that, and not one to get caught up in the could-haves or would-haves of his past.

Tom laid out his career so plainly that I had to stop him and circle back to why and how he transitioned from big-time businessman to city mission visionary, and that’s where the story got interesting.

After graduating from college, Tom planned to work in full-time ministry, but thought he’d try his hand at the business world first. To his surprise, he was extremely successful. He quickly latched on to the principles and skills he needed to lead people and happily worked his way up a corporate ladder he never imagined himself climbing.

He was wealthy. His kids went to private school, he and his wife owned expensive cars and a lavish house – he was providing for his family and then some.

But in 1992 something just felt off.

Tom said it’s hard to explain, but he knew God was nudging him toward ministry again, and his wife felt the same way. So, they talked to their pastor. He told them about a job opening at Christ’s Place Church in Lincoln, Nebraska.

After an interview that went better than he expected and a surprisingly generous offer was made on their beautiful home, Tom said he knew it was time to move to Nebraska.

For the next decade or so, Tom worked at Christ’s Place Church, started a college ministry and worked as a marketing professor… and then he heard about the job opening at the People’s City Mission.

At the time it was a small mission housing 80 people and helping about two to three thousand people in the city each year. Tom looked at the Mission and saw lots of potential.

Today the Mission has 210 beds, a separate veterans program, the third largest free medical clinic in the U.S. and in 2015 they served 33,000 people in Lincoln.

Wait, what?

Tom rattled off these facts much like his career history, boiling the difference down to his business-like approach to running the Mission. He played to his strengths and it’s working.

From recycling programs, giving away donated goods and connecting donors with the homeless, it’s all been an intentional way to serve better and serve more people in the process.

We’ll be honest, Tom is proud of that shift in statistics over the past 12 years, but he attributes it to more than just his presence at the Mission.

“People say ‘Aren’t you unbelievable!’ and I say no, it’s what God wanted me to do,” he said. “I think people think more highly of me than they ought to, but God’s hand is on us and I’m just using business truths to run this place.”

For Tom, getting to this point was about timing. He waited, he went and he stayed where he knew God wanted him to be.

He was hippie Tommy in college, Mr. Barber in the corporate world and now Pastor Tom at the Mission – all titles that built on each other in a way that he never could have mapped out himself.

It wasn’t easy, he admitted that much. Leaving a certain lifestyle, moving to a place that was far from friends and family, trying to understand poverty in a new city, but looking back, it’s almost comical to see the way each element of his story fits into a larger story, he said.

Tom’s story is about being where God wanted him to be, about obeying and using his skills for the task at hand.

Many times his story didn’t make sense, to him or those who looked on with skepticism. But it was about becoming Pastor Tom, and Tom loves being Pastor Tom.

January 6, 2016

Love5

Mike Smith

By Asha Timperley

Mike Smith is a big name in the skateboarding community, just look at his social media stats: 32k+ Facebook likes, 62k+ Twitter followers and 100k+ Instagram followers.

At 26 he started a Lincoln-based nonprofit, The BAY, and the internationally recognized movement Skate for Change.

Mike’s website touts him as a professional speaker, consultant and brand ambassador, having worked with brands like Puma, Red Bull, Ethika and Toyota.

At one point during our interview I told Mike it felt like I was talking to a celebrity. Not because he acted like it, not because he wanted to be one, but because Mike Smith has connections. He knows so and so at MTV and ABCFamily, and what’s his face in LA and New York.

I could tell that my celebrity comment made him feel a little weird, because Mike still sees himself as a skateboarding wannabe watching FUEL TV at his parents house in Imperial, Nebraska.

But Mike’s story isn’t about a small town kid making it big.

Mike’s story is about connections. He tells his story to thousands of high schoolers to connect with them, but also to bring awareness and passion to the movements that are close to his heart.

Lincoln’s The BAY is one of those places.

Mike started The BAY back in 2011 as a way to combine his passion for skateboarding with youth outreach. He took a run-down space in Gateway Mall, added some skate ramps and things were up and running.

A short while later, The BAY outgrew the space and moved to 22nd and Y streets, just northeast of UNL’s campus. Kids were eager for a place to skate or just hang out, and that’s what The BAY gave them, but this was never all that Mike envisioned.

The easy part was finding a place and a way to interact with kids, Mike said. The hard part was everything else.

Bills. Staff. Rules. Growth. Plus the fact that Mike was a 26-year-old who started a nonprofit in the middle of a recession.

Mike saw the ugly side of the nonprofit world. He was disappointed by passionate people who lost their fire after not seeing the progress they hoped for within a few months. And he made his own mistakes, lots of them. He couldn’t pay his employees or always keep the lights on at The BAY, but those hurdles didn’t hold up the process.

When Mike realized The BAY had $5 in its bank account, he went and lived homeless under a bridge in Lincoln for a month and then skateboarded across Nebraska to spread the word. He started speaking on a national scale to funnel funds back to The BAY. When his list of reliable employees got short he sought out specific people to propel his vision.

And so far, it’s worked.

“We fell in love with the bad stories,” he said. “We didn’t do this for the good stories. We did this for all the stories.”

Sustainable change isn’t about how you feel from one day to the next, he explained, it’s about consistency in the midst of complicated situations.

And making The BAY more than just a cool place to skate is complicated.

This year, The BAY served more than 100,000 meals, gave away socks and hygiene kits to the homeless and helped kids get out of juvenile detention centers. Skateboarding is a catalyst for some of the best stuff The BAY does, Mike said, and that’s the way he wants to keep it.

Mike has big dreams for The BAY. He wants it to include job training, legal aid, artist spaces and small business, and Mike wants Lincoln’s location to be the first of many across the country.

To make this happen, Mike has to spend the majority of his time away from The BAY. He travels and speaks for 80 percent of the year to raise awareness and make more connections to bring his dreams to life.

Mike said he often lays in bed at night and scrolls through social media, looking at pictures from The BAY or kids getting involved with their local Skate for Change chapters. Most of the time, he’s in awe of how something that started on the streets of Lincoln ballooned into something that thousands of people are getting behind.

Mike is adamant about the fact he could never have done this on his own. While his name can stand alone, what he does can’t.

Whether he’s speaking, representing a brand, dreaming about The BAY or promoting Skate for Change, his work has always been about building a community, not changing what already existed.

And he’s done that, but he’s not done yet.

December 30, 2015

Love7

Bryan Clark

By Asha Timperley

“Would you mind sticking around and preaching until we find a real pastor?”

Bryan Clark was in no way offended by this question. As a young associate pastor working at a struggling church in Broken Bow, Nebraska, being the head pastor was not on his radar.

For him the word ‘pastor’ conjured up the image of a legalistic preacher wearing outdated clothing and driving a station wagon with panel siding.

But that was 33 years ago.

Now, Bryan Clark is going on 23 years as the head pastor of Lincoln’s largest church, Lincoln Berean. With about 4,500 people in the building on a typical weekend, Lincoln Berean attendees make up approximately 1 in 50 people in Lincoln.

For many people, the title ‘mega church pastor’ conjures up images of a flashy, power-suit wearing preacher driving a Cadillac with blacked out windows.

But that’s not Bryan Clark.

He seems more like a pastor at a church of a few hundred, not a few thousand people. Down-to-earth and approachable, Bryan’s distinctively low tone of voice was the same in our one-on-one conversation as during his Sunday sermons.

Don’t be fooled by his calm demeanor, Bryan carries a heavy load. With a church the size of Berean, his time is in short supply amidst the vast number of needs and decisions that require his attention.

It’s a 24/7 job that he likened to farming. It doesn’t have parameters on when the work is done, he said, but if you don’t embrace the lifestyle you won’t make it.

So, Bryan has embraced his calling. After being asking to step into a pastoral role back in Broken Bow, he quickly saw that preaching was what God created him to do, and he stayed at that church for 10 years before transitioning to Lincoln Berean.

What seemed most notable was that Bryan doesn’t seem overwhelmed by the weight of his job. He’s not a martyr for his church. Instead, he has learned his emotional and physical limitations, and trusts the input from other pastors and counselors.

So, while being the head pastor at Lincoln Berean is a major part of Bryan Clark, it’s not what defines his life. Yes, the Bryan Clark and Lincoln Berean Church stories reflect the other, but they’re not the same.

Bryan’s story involves struggling to understand pain and suffering, resting in an all-knowing God and consistently serving in the place and position where God led him.

He’s a mega church pastor, but he’s also a father, husband and hobbyist. His office shelves are lined with cowboy sculptures and antique machines that he took apart and rebuilt. He’s an introvert and a cowboy wannabe who trains horses, dabbles in welding and blacksmithing, learned to play the cello at age 50 and enjoys fishing in the small pond behind his house.

What we appreciate about Bryan is that he owns his story. He’s not trying to be someone else or chase the latest church trend. He’s not trying to make Lincoln Berean anything but itself. The church isn’t perfect, and he’d be the first one to tell you that, but it’s a place and a people he’s proud to lead.

We chose to feature Bryan Clark because his name and reputation are well-known around Lincoln, but more so because his story isn’t contrived. He’s a self-proclaimed plodder – he moves slowly and methodically. There’s not some special formula to what he does, but he does have a method to the way he lives his life.

Bryan believes everyone was created on purpose, for a purpose. So for him, his story matters because it’s rooted to God, a God who has asked him to play a part in the story that He has written.

And to Bryan Clark, that matters.

December 23, 2015

Love28

Jennifer Rosenblatt

By Asha Timperley

Kurt Knecht turned his chair toward Jennifer Rosenblatt to ask her a question. She leaned over and explained a few things and then two of them went back to their respective work. This is what running two startups with a spouse looks like, said Jenn with a smile.

She and her husband are Florida natives who joke about the fact that they’ve “survived” ten winters in Nebraska. But this Nebraska chapter of Jenn’s story is about way more than surviving the winters, it’s where she started connecting the dots.

After raising two kids and working nearly ten different jobs, Jenn is now the CEO of two Lincoln-based startups. Yes, two.

One side of her office space is home to Argyle Octopus, a print and graphic design company that started in 2011. The other side is MusicSpoke, a marketplace for composers to promote and sell their music.

You might think it’s a little wild to have two startups in one place, run by the same person, but it’s not that strange for Jenn.

Remember when we said she had a lot of jobs? Jenn said she always thought there was something wrong with her because she didn’t stick with one job, or even one industry for more than a few years.

She said it took having an “entrepreneurial seizure” to see that she wasn’t doing anything wrong, she just needed space to let her ideas grow. So when Jenn started Argyle Octopus she slowly began to connect the dots.

When she hired an intern and added employees it all felt even more real. She realized that it wasn’t about having a job, it was about doing work that felt like herself.

It was bold, exciting, fun and serious, but not too serious. She had people tell her that naming a company Argyle Octopus was ridiculous, and it probably was, she said, but now it’s just fun and memorable.

A few years later she and her husband came up with the idea for MusicSpoke and wasted no time getting the new venture up and rolling.

Jenn is proud she started two companies and has become a well-known figure in the startup community, but it’s been far from easy.

Some might confuse her bright lipstick and bubbly personality for total confidence, but Jenn said there were and still are many days when she wants to give up. Being an entrepreneur isn’t glamorous.

Sure, there’s a sense of gritty independence that comes from setting your own schedule and pursuing a problem you’re passionate about, but it’s also hard.

The fear of missed deadlines and disappointed clients is work that feels all too personal. There are complex employee relationships and realizing that your close friends don’t want to always talk about startup-ish topics. And then there’s the night you eat at Taco Bell because it’s a cheap meal and you’d rather put money into your company than dinner.

So why do it? And why do it twice?

It’s kind of like childbirth, Jenn said. If you think about it too much you wouldn’t do it because it’s painful, but the other side of it is awesome.

It’s also about context and perspective. The first few years of a startup are incredibly challenging and time-consuming, but it’s a season, and at some point the crazy ends, she said. Unless you start something else, which is always a possibility for Jenn.

But for now, she’s pretty content with the way her story is unfolding. She’s no longer the newbie in the startup space. Now she’s the one people ask to speak on panels, to students and at events, and Jenn gladly accepts.

She no longer feels like she’s doing something wrong or weird in a job that she hates. Now, she’s just Jenn – a local entrepreneur and community cheerleader – and it feels just right.

December 8, 2015

Love1

Bryan Seck

By Asha Timperley

When we got to the end of the interview, Bryan Seck said it felt a little strange being asked questions instead of asking them. He’s usually the one listening, so it was nice to be heard for a change, he said.

No, he’s not some kind of reporter or therapist.

Bryan Seck is the Lincoln Public Schools Homeless Outreach Specialist. A job where he meets with homeless families and connects them with the resources they need.

It’s a job which is anything but black and white. It’s busy and littered with messy situations, complicated agencies and a whole lot of chaos. But here’s the thing – Bryan isn’t a stressful person. He’s calm, relaxed, systematic and intentional.

Even though he’s only lived in Lincoln a little over two years, he has a better working knowledge of the community resources than most Lincoln natives.

Don’t mistake his cool head for apathy though, it’s actually the opposite. On any given day, Bryan is sitting down with a family to hear their story, picking up food and clothing, working out of his car or advocating for a child over the phone.

He knows how to change his tone when talking with a domestic violence victim to help them find stability, and is on a first-name basis with people at nearly every area agency to advocate for each family he meets. Bryan can be a quiet listener, or a fierce fighter to make the needs and voices of the homeless heard.

But in reality, he can only guarantee three things: kids are enrolled in school, have transportation to school and receive free and reduced lunch. Those are what he can provide for every homeless family in Lincoln.

Then, there’s the long list of people and circumstances that are 100 percent out of his control.

He can’t personally make sure people stay on the straight and narrow. He can’t physically turn in a job or housing application. He can’t emotionally manage the sad situations he sees each day.

But he can follow-up with people to check-in and give them a push. He can ask good questions, hear their stories and give them the names of people who can help. He can and has built strong partnerships with local shelters, food banks and faith-based organizations.

At the end of the day, Bryan has to let go. Not throw in the towel, but trust that he did everything in his power to help.

This has been hard for him to learn, and harder still to put into practice. Seeing and hearing so many stories can feel heavy. Which is why he plays soccer a few times a week, processes his day with his wife and rests in the fact that he doesn’t do his work alone.

He collaborates with schools, counselors, social workers, psychologists and administrators who funnel needs and people to him. Without these people, he wouldn’t know who to help.

Bryan serves on half a dozen local boards – including the Lincoln Homeless Coalition – because he knows that transferring the knowledge and information he takes in every day to a room of problem-solving people can help him and the people he serves.

He’s one of many people in LPS and the city who hear the stories of the homeless community.

Yes, he has a big job, but he’s not alone.

If Bryan can get the small, quiet voices of the homeless heard then he’s done his job well, because being heard matters.

December 2, 2015

Love1

Amy Green

By Asha Timperley

Amy Green pulled a few hefty boxes out of her storage room in the basement of The Creamery Building and carried them out to the front of her shop. Inside the boxes were guestbooks with 15 years worth of customer comments, drawings and Ivanna Cone love notes.

To Amy, this is the feedback that matters most.

Sure, she’s the brainpower behind Lincoln’s most popular local ice cream shop, but she’d rather stay behind the scenes. She was a little skittish to talk about any specific, personal details, because to Amy Ivanna Cone isn’t about her, it’s about family.

It’s Amy, her team and the customers. These people make the shop tick, whether they’ve been in once or hundreds of times since it opened 18 years ago.

Back then the Haymarket’s dominant landmarks were Lazlo’s, The Burkholder Project and The Oven – and parking was a whole lot easier, she said.

Amy is all about family, because that’s how Ivanna Cone started. Her parents helped her buy the shop and she quickly found herself in the role of full-time mom and business woman.

But from the get go Amy was all in.

She had two young kids – Grace and Tom – and a brain full of ice cream recipes, so the ice cream had to sell itself, she said.

On the weekends her parents would drive down from Fremont to watch the kids or pass out $1 scoops at the farmers market.

During the week Amy worked with the kids at her feet. She made the shop kid-friendly by creating a toy corner and installing a johnny jump up in the kitchen.

Amy has made batch upon batch of oddball flavor combinations and she estimated about 10-12 thousand batches of the all-time fan favorite Dutch Chocolate.

A little obsessive, right?

But that’s the thing about owning a business, you can’t turn it off.

Amy said she’s had to teach herself to let others help out and to schedule time to relax outside of the shop. These days her nearly grown kids man the counter on a pretty frequent basis, and Grace said she hopes to someday run the shop when her mom is ready to throw in the towel.

But that won’t be anytime soon, Amy quickly interjected. She pointed to her arm to show off the 18 scoops of ice cream that snake their way up and around her arm – one for every year the shop is open – and there’s still more space, she said.

Here’s the deal: Ivanna Cone is Ivanna Cone because Amy Green is Amy Green.

From the on-purpose whimsical flavors to the layout and design of the shop, it’s all Amy.

She’s a woman who loves challenges and writing paychecks, but hates paperwork. She loves throwing money at bizarre ice cream ideas, and will never franchise her shop or lose her dark sense of humor.

And while Amy is a little shy about standing in the spotlight, her much beloved ice cream shop is beloved because of her, and that’s the real story.

November 25, 2015

Love1

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