A Joke A Week

A former client of mine did something unusual.

She put a giant whiteboard in her front yard.
Not for advertising.
Not for political statements.
Not for neighborhood rules.
For jokes.
Every week, she writes a new joke on that board.
That’s it.

A simple, clean whiteboard with one handwritten joke.
And something remarkable happened.
The neighborhood kids started waiting for it.
They’d ride their bikes by to read the new joke. Parents told her their kids were sounding out the
words. One mom said, “My daughter is motivated to practice reading because she doesn’t want
to miss the punchline.”

Think about that. A dry erase marker… is inspiring literacy.

But it’s bigger than that.
It’s anticipation.
It’s connection.
It’s shared laughter between houses that might otherwise stay quiet.
Small Joy. Big Ripple.

We live in divisive, stressful times.
It’s easy to feel overwhelmed. Easy to feel helpless. Easy to scroll and sigh and think, What can I
possibly do?
My client didn’t launch a nonprofit.

She didn’t organize a movement.
She didn’t post a manifesto.
She wrote a joke.
And every week, without fail, she offers her neighborhood a tiny gift.
No agenda.
No recognition.
No expectation.
Just joy.
And joy ripples.

It changes the emotional temperature of a street.
It softens strangers.
It reminds people we share something simple and human.

The Power of Tiny Leadership
We often think impact has to be big to matter.
But what if leadership — real leadership — sometimes looks like a whiteboard and a punchline?
What if in heavy times, our role isn’t to fix everything… but to lighten something?
A handwritten note.
Fresh cookies for a neighbor.
A compliment.
A silly sign.
A moment of kindness that costs almost nothing but attention.

We underestimate these acts because they’re small.
But small doesn’t mean insignificant.
It means accessible.
It means repeatable.
It means we can all participate.
Your Whiteboard
You don’t need a literal whiteboard (although now I kind of want one).

But what’s your version?

What’s one tiny, consistent act that could add a drop of joy to your corner of the world?
In times like these, maybe the antidote to division isn’t louder arguments.
Maybe it’s small, steady kindness.
Maybe it’s humor.

Maybe it’s deciding that your front yard — or your workplace, or your inbox, or your family —
will be a little pocket of light. Because joy spreads.

And sometimes it starts with a joke written in dry erase marker.