Then I discovered Evernote.

A graduate student friend recommended the program to me eons ago, and I made a mental note, but forgot about it (I never claimed my old system was perfect). My interest was briefly piqued again when I learned several months ago that the program could be synced with Instapaper, which I use to save longform articles to read later, so I downloaded the free version but never opened it. I remembered I had it last month, when I needed a way to catalog hundreds of blog posts for a feature story. Since then, Evernote has been permanently open on my laptop.

What sets the program apart from the dozens of other productivity apps on the market is its flexibility. Some coworkers swear by TeuxDeux, which is elegant for simple lists but can't handle links, attachments, photos, or anything other than plain text. If grocery shopping is on your agenda, you'll need your recipe pasted somewhere else. And while I use Dropbox to send large files, it's a pretty clunky way to save material for my own use. For newbies to outsourcing organization, the idea of the "top 10 productivity apps you shouldn't be without" is abhorent—I'm trying to make my life easier.

Some might object to Evernote trying to be everything to everybody, but I've found the catch-all nature to be the biggest advantage. Evernote founder Phil Libin has described Evernote as "your brain offloaded to a server," which seems about right—a PDF of an academic paper, a recipe and accompanying grocery list, a funny GIF, and my Instapaper list all go into the program instead of taking up valuable real estate in my mind. When I'm diligent, I organize the different types of content neatly into different "notebooks." When I'm too crazed to file things correctly, the search function is powerful enough that I can find what I'm looking for regardless. One button allows me to email information to anybody I want to share it with. And syncing happens automatically, which means everything I jot down lands on my desktop, my iPhone, and my account online.

Like smartphones themselves, much of the magic of Evernote is in the add-ons (the website lists hundreds). My favorite is a simple bookmarklet that allows me to "clip" entire webpages. Imagine a screenshot that's searchable and editable. Or a regular webpage you don't need a URL to access. It made dealing with those hundreds of blog posts a dream, but now I'm using it for everyday tasks too.

Before I ever read Libin's comparison between Evernote and my brain, I'd thought of the same analogy. The major technological leap the program represents is that I no longer have to organize my life the way some software developer thinks people should—it adapts to my methods. And that's worth ditching the sticky notes.

We were a couple of broke, cynical feminists whose relationship bore no resemblance to a Nicholas Sparks joint. But we were both emotionally drained from a fight, about what I don’t remember. Standing there on the stoop, it felt oddly comforting to anchor our unconventional relationship into some grander romantic context, even if just for a moment.

When real-world relationships get confusing, we grasp for the closest romantic trope that helps everything make sense: Love at First Sight. Always a Bridesmaid. The One That Got Away. The Love of My Life. At best, these stories make imperfect fits for our big, complicated lives. At worst, they force us into ways of thinking that make us miserable and set us up for failure. That's why it's so important for us to build alternative romantic narratives for ourselves, ones that conform more closely to our lives as we want to live them. We need our own tropes to fall back on, our own arcs to lean on in times of stress and doubt and confusion.

I'm 26 now—the age the average American woman marries for the first time. And though society's stock romantic narratives and rigid gender roles may seem like childish stories you grow out of with age and experience, I've noticed that the older I get, the more they attempt to exert their influence over my life. My peers and I—out of the dorm room but not yet into a mortgage—have found ourselves squirming under the slow suck of societal pressure, which encourages us all to settle down and get married already, or else acquire our dozen cats and our witching license and shut ourselves in forever.

Intellectually, we know that these narratives can be sexist, boring, and alienating. But emotionally, they can be clarifying, simple, and temporarily satisfying. Even if we do not lean so heavily on these stories, we end up befriending and rooming with and falling in love with people who do. We set out trying to live an unconventional life, then wake up to realize that despite our best intentions, we have filed into place. One friend told me with horror how she had begun scoping out the ring fingers of attractive men. Another expressed confusion over whether, "as a man," he's expected to make the first move in a relationship—he wants to approach the situation as equals, but fears that his crush might be playing off an outdated gender rulebook. “I am going to get married,” my best college friend wrote when she announced her engagement last year. “I am eating my words for all the times that I said that I would never get married.”

I’ve had enough experience with the traditional romantic narrative to know that the husband, kids, and picket fence scenario is not for me. But I still carry around this confusing emotional investment in these big romantic stories that have seemingly little application to how I actually want to live my life. Then, I read a study about what happens to your brain when you get drunk, and everything started to make a lot more sense. The study found that the higher a person’s blood alcohol level, the more conservative their thinking became—it didn't matter whether the drinker identified as liberal or conservative while sober. When drunk, their thought processes became streamlined—they reached for the simpler narrative, not the nuanced one. Related research has found that liberals start to think more like conservatives at times when they're particularly distracted or overwhelmed. The same can be said for our romantic thinking. These big universal tropes catch hold of us when we get stressed, tired, sick, older.

Only recently have I come to understand that the real-life feeling of “romance” is really just the tension and release that occurs when a series of seemingly unrelated events suddenly all make sense. Think of a relationship like a long flip book—yours might be filled with years of makeouts and petty fights and amazing records and intellectual arguments and good sex and bad sex and takeout Thai curries and Netflix Instant screenings. But as time passes, our memory has a tendency to dog-ear select pages, so that when we flip through again we only see certain story lines. If we're not careful, our flip book will be flagged into one of those big romantic narratives. It will encourage us to dwell on the private moments that conform most closely with public ideas about how a relationship should be, and where it should go.

After time, these narratives don’t just shape our perception of our memories after the fact—they start to affect us on the memory creation level. We begin to interpret an ambiguous text in the particular way that stokes our worst anxieties. We delete a Gchat record that's too painful to remember. We buy a diamond to try to silence the competing narratives once and for all.

One of my favorite ways to escape this trap is to take a narrative that society has framed as deviant or unacceptable or sad and flip it on its head to occupy it with my own meaning. This can take many forms. GOOD executive editor Ann Friedman, who has no interest in getting married, has proposed reframing the term “spinster”: “I want to reclaim it, like ‘bitch,’ until it carries the same connotation as ‘bachelor’: free, fun, independent, loving life.” For long-term singles like us, constructing jokes around the #foreveralone hashtag helps recode activities society sees as lonely and pathetic to ones we see as lonely and awesome. I often listen to a sad song that has a lyric that goes like this: “I know you feel how I do, too, and even though I’m close to you, I can’t be what you need, ‘cause you’re just as lost as me." He sings it like it’s a sad thing, but I think it’s really romantic—one of my life goals is to be close to other people, but not to get tied down to them, and that song helps me remember that.

The upside of the relationship flip book is that it contains endless little details that do not fit into the big stories society has written around it. We can use that scrap material to build new arcs. (Modern love pro tip: Keep every Gchat on the record—a targeted search is all it takes to get some new perspective on old memories). I have a peculiar insight into this romantic narrative construction process—I edit a column called Dealbreakers in which writers dig into the reason that they broke off a previous relationship. Often, these exes don't know how to begin to spin a complex relationship into a story—one with a beginning, end, climax, theme, and emotional thread. They broke up for a lot of reasons. Life is complicated.

In those moments, I encourage them to settle on one framework for filtering that relationship—something as literal as He's A Crack Addict or as loose as She Needed Me—then shake out the flip book onto the page to see what sticks. At first, that framework might seem limiting, but it actually forces you to think deeply in a direction you haven't before. In the process, these writers take their memories, mix them up and turn them over. They go back and tear out more pages from the back of the book that they forgot even existed. Then, they rearrange them into their own personal narrative that still builds to that satisfying emotional release.

This doesn't make for a full and complete account of a relationship—nobody wants to read about all those curries you ingested together. But it’s a way of making sense of the world on your own terms, and it's one that can be remixed over and over again to create as many stories as speak to you. It's important for us to tell these stories, to write them down and pass them on or just file them away in the back of our minds. Those standard romantic tropes provide us with so many big finishes—Get Married, Break Up, Delete your Grindr, Roll Credits. I think it's endlessly more satisfying to always look for those little endings, the personal insights that help you make sense of your own developing story.

Here's one of mine: Six months after my ex and I broke up, I came down with the flu. Tired and weak, I could feel my own personal narrative receding—I missed my boyfriend, someone who would crawl into my bed with me and confirm the temperature of my forehead and bring me something hot to drink. Then I remembered how I used to grow a little too comfortable in that sickness, to almost push for the fights that would force a kind of clarity into my romantic life. I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and I don’t need to beat myself down anymore to remember what I want.

Things are easier said than done, or so the old adage goes, and we couldn't agree more. That's why we do

Digitize your receipts.

We all have that friend who stuffs his or her wallet with receipts. Maybe some of us are that person. Heads up: There is a simple solution. Digitizing your receipts diminishes waste and makes it easy to keep track of past purchases. Storing your receipts online also allows you to easily search for keywords and expenses.

Don't have access to a scanner? Not a problem. There's an app for that. NotJot Scanner, one of many options, lets you turn your smartphone into a mobile scanner.

Come back tomorrow for the next task in our financial fitness challenge.

Propose an idea here for a project or workshop that promotes financial fitness in your community. The top-voted idea will win $500 to implement the project.

Photo via (cc) Flickr user jelene

Needless to say, that compulsion was what led me to become a graphic designer. Some people specialize in ideas, constantly scheming, iterating, finessing. I prefer doing. I don't know what makes me want to make, but often the impulse strikes without warning. If I don't satiate it immediately, it becomes a dull ache that lingers all day.

You'd think this would be a non-issue—after all, I'm lucky enough to be paid a salary to design all day. But increasingly I've realized that for people like me, one creative outlet isn't enough. The most interesting, creative people I know express themselves in a variety of ways. I call this practice informing practice, and I used to do it myself. Back before I made money from being creative, I was involved in up to five different creative outlets at a time. Now that my work consumes my life, that number has dwindled to one, and I can feel my non-design creative muscles twitching.

For as long as I can remember, I've associated creative pursuits with other activities. In every class from kindergarten through college, my head was always down as I listened to entire lesson plans while doodling superheroes, 3D cubes, and stylized words. I created logos for bands that didn’t exist, bands that did exist, comic books I wanted to make, and movies I wanted to film. Teachers often assumed I was ignoring them when I was drawing, constantly asking why I found the blank page in front of me more interesting than their lessons. But these doodles weren't a distraction, they were a core part of my learning process, visual evidence that I was taking information in. Finding a way to put mark on the learning process made me feel like a better student.

Fortunately, my coworkers understand the concept of auditory learning, because I didn't stop doodling after I left school. During any meeting at the GOOD office, I'm drawing faces, hands high-fiving, the words “DOPE,” “FRESH,” “HOLLA,” and “WHOA,” and more. A lot more. I try to contain my work to sketchbooks, but I'll settle for scrap paper, napkins, or paper cups. I doom a lot of objects to a decorative demise.

Of course, doodling isn't a substitute for another creative pursuit, and it doesn't fully silence my gnawing need to constantly make things. Only diversity of form can solve that problem. That might mean non-design related artistic pursuits like making music, writing, or performing—or non-artistic yet brain-stimulating projects like gardening, building, or even playing a game of D&D (a pursuit I have yet to take up, but I'm told would fit the bill).

The key is finding a form in which the final product matters less than in my professional work. The framework I craved as a kid is omnipresent in professional design. There will always be limitations, and I like working within them. But the impulse to create is a different beast altogether. Without the need to produce a polished project because I'm on the clock, the creativity process feels more fluid. I explore more ideas more freely and don't feel the pressure to turn them into complete package. The process feels like rediscovering how to be a student of making.

I start to dig into a little idea, and before I know it the compulsion takes over. Sometimes I won't move from my seat for hours on end, only becoming aware of the world around me when my stomach growls and I remember the only things I’ve consumed all day are a Clif bar and an iced coffee. And even then, often I’ll just keep going. I get engrossed in my work too, of course, but that activates a different part of my brain, one that prioritizes success through creation instead of the process of being. That’s why I doodle the same few items constantly—they are all things I love but never need to finalize, which means they're always comforting.

Creativity in any form is healthy, as study after study has shown. Designing magazines and drawing on every surface imaginable has helped define who I am and my understanding of the world—and allows me to inform that world, shape it, and make it something imaginative and delightful. Finding a secondary creative outlet would allow my creativity, not my craft, to define me. In the meantime, it's nice to know I can drag a crayon across the page and feel like it’s all going to be ok.

Click here to vote for your favorite Art Every Day project on GOOD Maker. The submission with the most votes will win $500!

Is your neighborhood a work of art? It's possible you feel that way every time you leave the house, but many of us could use a reminder from time to time. In New York City, the nonprofit No Longer Empty is using public art initiatives to help New Yorkers (re)discover their neighborhoods' history and architectural lost treasures through site-specific exhibitions, from East Harlem to Governor's Island to Brooklyn.

The goal of the three-year old project is to "draw together the vitality of the contemporary art world and the values of building community" to create a lasting impact on the way people think about their neighborhoods. Beginning April 4, a NLE exhibition called This Side of Paradise will dive deep into the Bronx's oft-forgotten opulent past. The Andrew Freedman House, the enormous building where the exhibition is set, now sits largely abandoned, but was originally created in the 1920s—in a bizarre act of charity—as a retirement home for broke aristocrats to live out their final days in luxury. Thirty artists are currently having their way with the building's numerous rooms, many of which haven't been touched in years. 

According to its website, NLE hopes to use the exhibition to spark conversation about the Bronx's past and future—among locals and visitors to the exhibition. A mix of curators, urban planners, and architects, NLE's volunteers and staff collaborate with and listen to local leaders in the neighborhoods where they operate to dream up projects that will create a lasting benefit beyond the time that the exhibition ends. That could mean cleaning up a building in disrepair or creating a map of unique local attractions to help support neighborhood businesses. They also create a series of programs around the exhibition, including workshops for kids and panels for adults, to transform the space into a cultural hub.

In the organization's three years, they've launched 12 exhibitions, working with more than 100 artists to create more than 50 new works. The latest exhibition is free and open from next Wednesday through June 5.

Image courtesy of No Longer Empty

Click here to vote for your favorite Art Every Day project on GOOD Maker. The submission with the most votes will win $500!

I had just finished a 35-day cross-country road trip after four years of living in Washington, D.C. I had a lease on an apartment I'd never seen, no job, and no friends. A northern California native, I'd been raised to think I'd hate L.A. After 6,800 miles and nearly that many photos from national parks and great cities across the country, the fact that my first literal image of my new hometown was of traffic seemed an inauspicious sign.

In the madness of unpacking and furniture-buying and job-hunting, I forgot to take photos and barely explored my surroundings at all for a couple of weeks after that. Then one day, I took a break to hike a popular trail just up the street from my place. I had no sense of L.A. geography, so I decided to take my camera to get a sense of what was where. From the top of the hill, I saw the ocean for the first time since I arrived, as well as the mountains that ring the city. It wasn't until I got home and started scrolling through the photos I had taken that I realized that Los Angeles was beautiful. Somehow the framing of each piece of the landscape hit me in a way that even seeing it in person hadn't.

That's not to say I'm a great photographer. I didn't know how to operate a DSLR at the beginning of the road trip. Now I'm capable with my Nikon D60, but I exhibit no special talent and will never be more than a hobbyist. Yet in the year and a half since that hike, photography has become my primary vehicle for learning about Los Angeles. Actually, taking photos taught me to love it here.

L.A. is the most difficult city in the country to understand. It's huge, yes, but it's also (by some measures, at least), the most diverse city on the continent. You could explore it for years without stumbling on all the different worlds. And, of course, the fact that it is notoriously maligned makes it all the more difficult to cut through the haters hatin'—about the smog (though strong emissions regulations have cut it to the point that it's rarely noticeable), the traffic (though my neighborhood is highly walkable), and the vapid populace (though people I meet here are, on average, far more diverse and interesting than in D.C.)—and get to the core of what makes it great. 

Taking thousands of photos hasn't made me learn the city any faster—if it takes 10 years to become a real New Yorker, as former mayor Ed Koch insists, it must require at least 15 to turn into an Angeleno, camera or not. But in a city full of secret worlds, my lens captures details I might have otherwise missed. Too often, people reserve photography for when they're traveling—we don't expect to be surprised in our own hometowns, whether we've lived there for one year or 30. But when I've got a camera in my hand, I can use that same spirit of exploration that guides a trip abroad to keep things exciting at home.

I haven't taken any photos in traffic since that first day, because I'm rarely stuck in it (cue gasps). I did shoot a fun series of the subway that runs two blocks from my house (cue more gasps!). But most of my photos are taken while walking down the street. The city's vaunted street art scene is alive and well, and some of my favorite photos are of paintings and wheat-pasted posters that appear out of nowhere and often disappear just as quickly. Every time I trek out to East L.A. for birria or the San Gabriel Valley for dim sum, I make sure to take photos of unfamiliar signs and foods and wares. And my camera has come on plenty more hikes and beach trips since that first one.

My next goal is to take photos of people. I recently upgraded to a 50 mm lens, which is great for shooting almost anything but captures portraits particularly well. Though I've been in journalism since I was 14, I don't relish the idea of approaching strangers on the street, particularly without the pretense of a story assignment. But every time a teenager walks by on her way to her quinceañera or an old man in a dashiki crosses my path, I wish I had asked them for a photo. I'm getting there.

Of course, an expensive DSLR lens is no longer necessary for taking great photos—nearly half of Americans now have a perfectly good camera in their pocket in the form of a smartphone. With no need to spend extra money or lug a bulky camera around, there's no reason not to take photos, even if no one will see them but you.

Part of the value of the Art Every Day challenge is that it reminds us that art brings real value to our lives, beyond a simple appreciation of beauty. After my initial skepticism, I've embraced my adopted hometown in ways I wouldn't have without a camera. Taking photos may not have made me into an Angeleno yet, but it's made me aspire to be one. 

Things are easier said than done, or so the old adage goes, and we couldn't agree more. That's why we do

Make an appointment to give blood.

My friend Claudette has given blood every two months as long as I've known her. I asked her why: "Because it's easy. Because I can. Every two months it's something I can easily do to give back to my community. I'm a universal donor (O Negative), so my blood is most prized, it's most needed. And I get a cookie and a sticker every time I give." She paused on the way out and said, "Give the gift of life, give blood."

Contact your local blood center today to make an appointment. What more basic way to be a good citizen.

And on that note, congratulations on completing this month's #30DaysofGOOD challenge. Thanks for sticking with us, and check back tomorrow to see the challenge for March

Learn how to live like a citizen at The Guiding Lights Weekend conference on creative citizenship March 8-10 in Seattle.

Click here to vote for your favorite GOOD Citizenship project on GOOD Maker. The submission with the most votes will win $500!

Things are easier said than done, or so the old adage goes, and we couldn't agree more. That's why we do

Support a local business.

How can you help build a strong local economy and maintain the unique character of your neighborhood? Shop locally as much as possible. Small businesses respond to the wants and needs of their loyal, local customers. This creates more variety and paves the way for yet more neighborhood businesses.

Check out the 3/50 Project to learn how you can make a difference in your own community by spending $50 a month in three of your favorite independently owned businesses. Let us know where you're shopping and what you love about "your" bookstore, "your" coffee shop, and other businesses you can't live without.

Learn how to live like a citizen at The Guiding Lights Weekend conference on creative citizenship March 8-10 in Seattle.

Click here to vote for your favorite GOOD Citizenship project on GOOD Maker. The submission with the most votes will win $500!

Things are easier said than done, or so the old adage goes, and we couldn't agree more. That's why we do

Ditch your car for the day.

Have you considered life without a car? While it's impossible for people living in communities with no other options, it's doable for many others. Cars have been a big part of American life since the Model T rolled off the assembly line in 1908, and owning and driving your own car can seem downright patriotic. But views on car ownership are changing. Young people are waiting longer to get their driver's license and there's been a significant increase in biking, car-sharing and making cities more livable through better public transportation.

Too many of us rely on our cars purely out of convenience and habit. Do you live in a city with a decent bus or light rail system, but continue to drive to save time? Do you drive across town to do something that could be achieved closer to home with a good walk? Give it a try and see what new things you discover in your own neighborhood when you hang up your keys and walk, bike, or ride the bus instead.

Learn how to live like a citizen at The Guiding Lights Weekend conference on creative citizenship March 8-10 in Seattle.

Click here to vote for your favorite GOOD Citizenship project on GOOD Maker. The submission with the most votes will win $500!

Things are easier said than done, or so the old adage goes, and we couldn't agree more. That's why we do

Clean up your neighborhood's sidewalk.

A total win-win! Performing random acts of kindness is good for you. It releases those warm and fuzzy brain chemicals that put a smile on your face and a skip in your step. And did you know that a clean and tidy community may stop vandalism and reduce crime? It's true.

We like doing things for our neighbors without telling them, just for the fun of it. But if you want to record your activity and read about the kindness of others, check out the Random Acts of Kindness Foundation.

Want a little inspiration? Take a peek at this short video about a school built on trust and kindness. The Puget Sound Community School begins each day with expressions of gratitude and students regularly perform random acts of kindness.

Learn how to live like a citizen at The Guiding Lights Weekend conference on creative citizenship March 8-10 in Seattle.

Click here to vote for your favorite GOOD Citizenship project on GOOD Maker. The submission with the most votes will win $500!

Things are easier said than done, or so the old adage goes, and we couldn't agree more. That's why we do

Organize an outing to a community arts event.

Can the health of a community be measured by the variety of opportunities to enjoy art and culture? We think so. Small arts organizations are a breeding ground for ideas, and they need our support.

Invite a small group to attend an event at a small arts organization in your community—a lecture, performance, museum or gallery show, or reading. After the experience, discuss it with your group, ask engaging questions, and see what happens. If you feel inclined, write a letter of thanks to the arts group or donate to their efforts.

Learn how to live like a citizen at The Guiding Lights Weekend conference on creative citizenship March 8-10 in Seattle.

Click here to vote for your favorite GOOD Citizenship project on GOOD Maker. The submission with the most votes will win $500!

Things are easier said than done, or so the old adage goes, and we couldn't agree more. That's why we do

Tell a friend about issues you care about.

Some say talk is cheap, but not us. Take a few minutes today to talk to a friend about what you care about and what you've been up to. Good ideas come from good questions and discussions. Don't just share your hopes and dreams, share the specific things you've been doing and see if your friend has something to add.

Learn how to live like a citizen at The Guiding Lights Weekend conference on creative citizenship March 8-10 in Seattle.

Click here to vote for your favorite GOOD Citizenship project on GOOD Maker. The submission with the most votes will win $500!

Things are easier said than done, or so the old adage goes, and we couldn't agree more. That's why we do

Share something with someone.

Research shows that sharing is good for you and that kindness breeds kindness. I have a friend who is fond of explaining that people think he's generous because he's wealthy, yet for him it's the other way around: he's wealthy because he's generous. But of course, money doesn't need to be a part of the giving equation at all.

Today, share something small or make plans for a grand scheme. Make your neighbor a pie, give someone a ride, share your afternoon chocolate bar with a coworker, give someone your time, take a friend to a play, or donate something delicious to the food bank's bin at your grocery store.

All over the country, people are starting sharing and exchange groups for tools, cars, gardens, books—you name it! Take the first step by making a list of things you have to share and a list of things you'd like to borrow. Then share it with your friends and see what happens.

We want to hear about your experience. Share your plan in the comments or on Twitter or Facebook.

Learn how to live like a citizen at The Guiding Lights Weekend conference on creative citizenship March 8-10 in Seattle.

Click here to vote for your favorite GOOD Citizenship project on GOOD Maker. The submission with the most votes will win $500!

Things are easier said than done, or so the old adage goes, and we couldn't agree more. That's why we do

Yield in traffic.

Society becomes how you behave. This is such a simple, yet powerful way to live. Out on the highway, dial down that road rage. Slow down a little and allow that other motorist to merge in front of you. What an easy way to respect and care for that person’s time, existence, and safety.

On arterial streets, give bicycles three feet of lateral clearance, and yield for pedestrians at corners and crosswalks. Don’t worry, yielding doesn’t make you a loser, it makes you a good citizen. We’ll all get there at just about the same time anyway. In fact, studies and simulations have shown that when you yield, traffic moves more quickly. It's counterintuitive, but it's true. Being courteous and cooperative is contagious. Pass it on.

Learn how to live like a citizen at The Guiding Lights Weekend conference on creative citizenship March 8-10 in Seattle.

Propose an idea to promote GOOD citizenship where you live for a chance to win $500 to make it happen.

Things are easier said than done, or so the old adage goes, and we couldn't agree more. That's why we do

Ask a foreign-born person to share their migration story.

So we're a nation of immigrants. But when was the last time you asked an immigrant why she or he came to this nation? What dreams compelled them? Have those dreams come to pass? If so, how? If not, why not?

The simple act of asking—of inviting a new American to share their story of how they came here and why—does a few things at once. It weaves the storyteller more powerfully into the American story. It awakens you to the stories all around us. It requires both of you to lean forward and connect with someone in a way that you can't in everyday polite conversation. The person you ask might be someone you see at work or in the neighborhood. Or you might go to a local organization that works with immigrants and refugees and spend a short amount of time listening. Either way, there are few better ways to remember what being a citizen is about.

Learn how to live like a citizen at The Guiding Lights Weekend conference on creative citizenship March 8-10 in Seattle.

Propose an idea to promote GOOD citizenship where you live for a chance to win $500 to make it happen.

Things are easier said than done, or so the old adage goes, and we couldn't agree more. That's why we do

Find out how to use the Freedom of Information Act.

On his first full day in office, President Obama signed the Memorandum on Transparency and Open Government, calling for unprecedented openness and transparency in government and declaring “Information maintained by the Federal Government is a national asset.” The Freedom of Information Act is a law that gives you the right to access information from the federal government.
 
The FOIA requires that federal departments and agencies proactively release certain information automatically without waiting to receive a formal request. In addition, the Attorney General’s FOIA Guidelines encourage agencies to systematically post information of interest to the public on agency websites. As a result, agencies are continually updating their websites with a wide variety of information and data and creating web pages focused on particular topics.
 
Even the most well-meaning government officials aren’t always on top of releasing every detail. This is where we come in. It’s our job to keep the government honest, to shine a little sunlight on the process. Each department has their own FOIA page on their site, usually found here: http://www.[nameofagency].gov/foia. Want to know how much the government is spending this year on fighter jets? Do a search on the Defense Department’s FOIA page. Want to know what the government knows about you or one of your neighbors? Submit your own FOIA request.
 
Learn more at FOIA.gov.

Learn how to live like a citizen at The Guiding Lights Weekend conference on creative citizenship March 8-10 in Seattle.

Propose an idea to promote GOOD citizenship where you live for a chance to win $500 to make it happen.

Things are easier said than done, or so the old adage goes, and we couldn't agree more. That's why we do

Introduce yourself to a neighbor.

From the time this country was founded, people have been getting together to build, create, learn, work, and protect each other. A neighborhood is a place to get together, and your neighbors are people you should be able count on in a pinch. Think you left the stove on? What if you could call a neighbor to check? But you don't have to give your keys to your neighbors right away. Take a first step today.

Introduce yourself to residents of at least four households surrounding you. Just let them know who you are and where you live. This simple, friendly gesture can be the first step in building a better community. Hopefully your neighbors will reciprocate. In the future, you all might form a block party, plan an event, or contribute to a neighborhood blog!

Learn how to live like a citizen at The Guiding Lights Weekend conference on creative citizenship March 8-10 in Seattle.

Propose an idea to promote GOOD citizenship where you live for a chance to win $500 to make it happen.

Things are easier said than done, or so the old adage goes, and we couldn't agree more. That's why we do

Learn about another culture.

Sometimes it's easy to take for granted the Pluribus in our motto of E pluribus unum. The special sauce of this country is that it has a lot of special sauces! Our diversity of cultures, faiths, traditions, and ancestors can be one of America's great competitive advantages in the world—but only if we do something with it. One simple way to activate the full power of our diversity is to learn something about another way of life within your own neighborhood or city. Visit a cultural center, a house of worship, or a restaurant whose origins are unfamiliar to you. Listen, taste, learn. Ask questions. It can be a full-on field trip or just a slight diversion from your usual route home from work—just set an goal of experiencing more of what makes us different. After all, that's what brings us together.

Learn how to live like a citizen at The Guiding Lights Weekend conference on creative citizenship March 8-10 in Seattle.

Propose an idea to promote GOOD citizenship where you live for a chance to win $500 to make it happen.