The Monday Meeting

Monday, June 22, 2026

Every Monday morning at 10 a.m., key Convivium staff members gather around a table for what has become one of the most important hours of our week.

On the surface, it's a planning meeting. We review priorities, identify challenges, coordinate schedules, and figure out how we can support one another. But it's also much more than that.

Convivium has a lot of moving parts. There is the restaurant, catering, cooking classes, gardening programs, community gardens, volunteer management, donor relations, grant administration, facility maintenance, food production, and our free Community Casserole Program. We operate as both a nonprofit and a for-profit enterprise—two separate organizations that work together toward a shared mission.

The complexity requires communication. Lots of it.

The meeting always begins the same way: A.J., our farm manager, knocks on the table. I'm not entirely sure how the tradition started, but it has become part of our ritual. We knock at the beginning and at the end. Somewhere along the way, it became our way of saying, "We're here. Let's get to work."

After that, we go around the table sharing what we're working on and where we need help. Side meetings get scheduled. Problems get solved before they become bigger problems. Connections get made between projects that might otherwise operate in separate silos.

This is definitely not one of those things that could have been an email.

Before starting Convivium, I spent more than twenty years in the corporate world, most of them in leadership roles. I learned a tremendous amount about systems, accountability, communication, and how organizations function. Those lessons have proven invaluable.

I also learned what didn't resonate with me.

One phrase I heard often was, "It's business, not personal."

I never fully believed that.

The best work I've ever witnessed has always been personal. People do extraordinary things when they feel connected to a mission, when they have ownership, and when they believe their contributions matter. I once heard someone say that when you start a new job, you should approach it as though you've been handed the keys to the building. That's the kind of investment I hope people feel at Convivium.

Over the past nine years, I've watched staff, volunteers, and community members grow into roles they weren't entirely sure they were ready for. Sometimes mistakes were made. That's part of the deal. Growth rarely happens without a little uncertainty.

There was no roadmap for building an organization like Convivium. We've learned by doing, adjusting, and trying again. As I'm fond of saying, if Plan A doesn't work, we have the rest of the alphabet.

What I've come to believe is that meaningful work happens when people come together in service of something larger than themselves. Whether it's an organization, a family, a neighborhood, or a community, progress depends on communication, trust, and a shared sense of purpose.

And it starts by coming to the table.

Yours convivially,