Contributed by Josh Fryfogle
I remember going door to door in Downtown Palmer with Denise Statz, the founder and force of nature behind so many local events like “Who Let the Girls Out”, as we visited with local shop owners about this great idea she had - a spring fling to help pay the bills.
Aimed at helping Downtown Palmer business owners pay the bills during a traditionally slow time of year, “Who Let The Girls Out” was Denise’s vision to fill that gap.
An obvious nod to the 90s hip hop song, “Who Let The Dogs Out”, by the one-hit-wonder, Baha Men, Denise was playfully appropriating the braggadocios bravado of that song, and piggybacking on its meme-like popularity. It was an empowering move that was counterintuitive and provocative, and I remember thinking how Denise’s personality was reflected in her choice to call it that. She is no shrinking violet. And the fact that almost everyone involved, and in charge of the event, were adult and middle-aged women, it tapped into that quirk that we all find so engaging.
We’ve weathered the storms, both literal and figurative, together through the years. Denise, along with a small army of local women, and a few guys like me, we’ve communicated like a community to make WLTGO an annual event that the community can count on.
This year, because of all of those previous years of visits, conversations, hugs and handshakes, we’ll be able to pull back from those same real-life interactions that are absolutely fundamental to events like WLTGO. I can’t help but wonder, had we had to do that first event under these modern circumstances, would we have? That’s really a question for Denise, but I can’t imagine doing what she did to start WLTGO over the phone, or email alone. The sometimes-chaotic cauldron of conversation between friendly neighbors was the means by which the creative process was engaged. The back and forth, the exchange of empathy and information, eye contact and embrace, led to so many great ideas that were the result of the community coming together - literally, then figuratively.
Two years ago, I was glad to take over the management of the event, when Denise decided to hand it off to me. I see it as a servant role, protecting her original creative vision, and serving the local business community along the way. We are still a group of mostly women, as is a true reflection of Downtown Palmer’s business community, and the event is really a cooperation rather than an incorporation. I don’t tell anyone what to do, although we all bring something to this annual potlatch that Denise made a tradition. Every business owner maintains control over what they do to contribute to the event, with good faith, remaining true to Denise’s original vision. Each of these (mostly) women-owned businesses maintains their autonomy, yet through non-coercive, peaceful cooperation, they come together with the sincere intention of shared success. I’m truly inspired by it, every year.
Last year, because of the major changes going on in April, we made the decision to shift to an online-only event. All of those independent businesses took their own precautions and created unique ways to serve the community during uncertain times. There’s no way that could have been managed from above, each business owner acted of their own agency, their own mind, and overcame the challenges that were affecting them all uniquely. My job last year was to use my camera skills to create videos for each of these local businesses, videos allowing the business owner to share those solutions with the potential customers who could shop from home.
This year, we will do the online event, and the real-life event, and we will adjust accordingly. No one can predict the future, but we can adapt. And when we know a storm is brewing, we can prepare to adapt. For the time-being, we’re planning to do both, and to keep the online version of WLTGO as an additional option for community members to engage as they see fit.
I am so inspired by local (mostly women) business owners in Palmer, each year coming together to make WLTGO a success. It’s an important reminder that a woman’s place is wherever she wants to be.
But why do we keep repeating this quirky query, like the chorus to an ear worm:
Who let the girls out?
Well, it’s a rhetorical question.