A holiday poem from Changing The Terms

‘Twas the night when the work stopped, but all over the land,

IC folks were going home later than planned,

It wasn’t big news, and it sure wasn’t ISIS,

It was simply more approval crises.

Our peers often wonder about our profession.

Even when our budgets are too low to mention.

They question if we are woosies or wimps,

Or if our roles can’t be filled by trained chimps.

But even if we can be easy to mock…

To an extent its because we are wiser than Spock.

Visibility isn’t really our game.

Instead, more hot than bright is our flame.

Eyeballs ain’t really our measure of health.

Especially since IC’s best done by stealth.

Every month of the year, from Jan to December,

Injecting key words that are easily remembered.

Stories and role models driving home themes,

Without false zeal or cheerleading teams,

Ending the year sure, of our importance to change,

And next year we nail who it’s worth to engage,

To shift from informing to mobilization,

And totally demonstrate our worth to the nations.

IC can be tough and often a fight,

But we know we add value and shed lots of light

So to those within whom the IC flame burns

The warmest of holidays from Changing the Terms!

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