Cass Elliot is, was, and always will be the mother of making your own rules. I may be a ‘90s grunge child, but there’s always space for The Mamas and the Papas—and especially Cass as a solo artist—in my life. In a world full of skinny blonde sopranos, there was Cass Elliot’s velvet-rich alto voice coming from a luscious brunette, reminding us there’s more than one song worth singing—and more than one way to live a life. For a well-built, alto-singing swimming girl like me, he

I love Mavis Staples. She’s a lifelong civil rights activist and an R&B/gospel music icon who began her career in 1948 with her father and sisters in The Staple Singers. Her voice finds my ear everywhere—movies, commercials galore—and her face even graces a mural across from a drugstore near my house. To me, she is as much the soundtrack of Chicago as the skyline supported by the Hancock Building (and whatever we’re calling the Sears Tower these days). So, when Eileen Murphy

A few newsletters back, I mentioned that I had obtained my PCC (Professional Certified Coach) through the International Coaching Federation (aka the Grand Poobahs). A few weeks after taking and passing the exam, a colleague whom I met through my previous coaching certification process asked how it felt to be PCC Certified. I realized that I hadn’t actually taken a moment to recognize the magnitude of this step. I had studied, and prepped, and spoken with multiple colleague