That looks really nice, though
Dear Crew,
Maybe you've experienced this, too.
You organize. You cook. You design. You plan. You bring people together. You contribute ideas. You create a welcoming atmosphere.
And in the end, they say, “The food was delicious.”
"That looked nice."
"Thatwas nice."
Of course you're happy about it. And at the same time, it often describes only a tiny fraction of what has actually been created.
I first noticed this in a previous job. Someone described my work with the phrase, “Jeannette makes things look nice.”
Back then, I took it as a compliment. Today, it makes me laugh. Not because the comment was meant to be mean, but because it’s so incredibly petty.
Because no, I didn't just make things look pretty. I created an atmosphere. I brought people together. I designed spaces that made collaboration easier. I thought ahead. I saw what was missing.
All of that is summed up in one sentence: “She makes things look nice.”
It strikes me that many activities don't have a language of their own. Especially when they aren't loud. Not measurable. Not spectacular.
When someone starts a business, we say: Visionary. Innovator. Founder.
When someone works for years to make sure people enjoy getting together. To make birthdays unforgettable. To make teams feel at home. To spark conversations. To make sure everything has been taken care of.
Then we say, “How nice,” or, “You’re really organized.”
I think weunderestimate an entire form of creativity—the kind that doesn't create products, but rather conditions.
Conditions that allow for a meaningful conversation. A sense of safety. An evening everyone will remember. A space where someone cries for the first time. Or dances. Or takes a deep breath. Or where new friendships are formed.
Maybe you recognize this from your own life. Maybe you tend gardens. Write cards. Cook for your (chosen) family. Work behind the scenes to make sure everything runs smoothly. Bring people together without anyone noticing. Ask, “How are you really doing?”
All of this is creative work—even if it isn't listed in any job description.
Maybe we don't need a new sense of appreciation. Maybe what we need first is a new language.
After all, what do you call someone who makes worlds livable? Someone who helps people relax. Who helps ideas emerge. Who brings individuals together to form a community.
It's only when we can put a name to something that we begin to see what has been there all along.
Our world is shaped not only by the people who design buildings or start companies. It is just as much sustained by the people who, every day, create the conditions that make life and connection possible in the first place.
They don't just make the world prettier. They make it more livable.
With love and deep appreciation for everyone who makes this world a better place to live in,
Jeannette
