10/03/2026
Today I completed one of those jobs that falls under the “things nobody puts on the poster when they ask if you’d like to run a music camp" category.
I finished communicating all of our board decisions regarding cancelled registrations from this past summer. I hope I was clear and kind.
And whew.
These are not easy messages to write.
Behind every cancellation is a real person, a real story, and often circumstances that nobody planned for. At the same time, behind every registration is also a whole string of commitments that KLKP has already made — instructors hired, caterers booked, beds reserved, programs planned and bills paid.
So there I sat, trying to communicate how the Board tried to balance policy, fairness, compassion, responsibility and the very human desire to simply say, “Oh heck, let’s just give everybody everything.”
But that isn’t always possible — or responsible.
I’m grateful for a board that was willing to work carefully through each situation, and I’m grateful for the people on the other end of those emails who understand that running a little nonprofit with a very big heart still requires us to make some difficult decisions.
And I’m also grateful that the emails are now SENT.
Done.
Finito.
Crossed off the list with an unnecessarily aggressive flourish.
There are certainly more glamorous parts of creating the Kitchen Party — music, dancing, laughter, seeing people connect — but this is part of it too.
And tonight I’m feeling particularly thankful for the people who trust us enough to come, the volunteers and board members who help carry the responsibility, and this funny little community we’ve built together.
Now, if anyone needs me, I’ll be over here doing something considerably less emotionally complicated. Possibly involving tea. Or fiddle tunes. Or staring vacantly at a wall.
