When Work Doesn't Feel Like Work

Yesterday, I had one of those moments when what you do for work takes on a whole new meaning.

We created a program asking children across the country to donate one or more of their own LEGO bricks to send to the students in New Orleans whose communities and schools were affected by Hurricane Katrina last year. Children and families from all 50 states joined the effort, and contributed over 880,000 bricks to the cause. LEGO matched, brick for brick, so we just delivered 1,665,200 LEGO bricks to 40 schools in metro New Orleans for use in their classrooms on Friday.

I’ll start by saying I’m personally moved and on some level overwhelmed by the level and scope of participation. When we mapped out the program, we thought it would be great, albeit a stretch, to collect 500,000 bricks. The only way we communicated the program was through the media and some events in select markets, as well as on our web site. And the buzz spread. Families and children from every state in the union donated. Teachers ran brick drives in local schools. Boy Scouts organized their communities to do the same. A couple of moms spearheaded collections through their churches. We even had a couple of boomers contact their college grads, ask if it was okay, and then donated their childhood collections so that other children could continue to enjoy the fun of LEGO building.

We also asked kids to send us pictures, with their donation, of what they think a rebuilt New Orleans should look like. I was even more moved by some of the drawings and letters we received. You might think, when asking kids to imagine the future of a city, they would tell us there will be no more roads because everyone is flying little space cars, like in the Jetsons, or that there will be floating movie theaters and 24-hour arcades. But lots of kids told us that there should be schools and libraries where kids can learn and read. Playgrounds where kids can play. Parks where families can spend time together on the weekends. Hospitals where people can get well (and one girl told us the hospital ought to be pink!) Churches, where families can pray and be with God. Fire stations, flowers and trees. The suggestions were real and practical and thoughtful, the letters written carefully and with a lot of thought, the pictures beautifully drawn and colored. A school for the blind sent us textured collages they assembled, with letters in braille of what the city should rebuild. One little girl wrote “Wish on a star tonight so that when you wake up, your city will be the greatest city ever!”

Most kids don’t understand charity. Ask a child if they would rather buy something with their pocket money or give it to someone who needs it more, and they will likely tell you they’ll buy something. So, did LEGO help children understand the meaning of helping others? Did we connect with kids in a way that means something to them? Does LEGO really have that power?

We invited 75 children from the Good Shepherd School– an amazing school downtown that offers Catholic school education to poverty level children, funded completely through private donations and grants. Their parents do community service as a form of payment for their child’s attendance. They were the most well behaved, happy and respectful kids.

I asked the children how many of them had been affected by Hurricane Katrina last year, and every hand in the crowd went up. I asked them how many bricks they thought we had collected to donate.

“300!” “650!” “900!” One little boy then said, boldly “1,000?!” And when I told them they were way cold, not even warm, they got excited and one little girl shouted “A million!”

You should have seen the kids’ faces as we announced the how many bricks we collected for them and how many people had helped. They were touched – deeply. I asked them why they like to build.

“Because it’s fun to build!” and “I can make anything I want!” and “It makes me feel proud!”

And I asked them what they will build now that they have a new collection of bricks to use.

“A tower!” and “A car!” and “A flower!” and “A house!”

Next we unveiled a LEGO model we had a very talented LEGO artist, Nathan, build that drew inspiration from some of the letters and drawings we received about the future of New Orleans. And Nathan even made the hospital pink. The kids were so excited...and inspired.

I have to admit, my head was telling me a trip to New Orleans was the very last thing I wanted to have to make. I wondered what it would be like. Was it safe? Was it clean? Will it make me sad? And, truthfully, I’m so glad I went, because it was a rare chance that not many of us in the working world have to actually feel that what we call a career actually has the power to change the world...well, maybe just a community...but to make life better for people. To be something so much more than just a product or a brand or a job. To connect and inspire people. To give them license to be creative...to be creators.

To see more, check out LEGO Builders of Tomorrow. To see more of Nathan’s creative LEGO art, visit his site.