Once upon a time…
…I was a girl who believed every night held the promise of a new adventure.
Beneath a patchwork quilt, clutching a storybook to my chest, I’d lose all sense of bedtime and tumble headlong into worlds bright with wonder.
Whether I was giggling at a clever fox, cheering on a determined steam engine, or tumbling headfirst into Roald Dahl’s wild imagination, I was hooked, wide-eyed and always ready for the next page.
Sleep? That could wait.
Fast-forward a few decades, and my bedtime ritual hasn’t changed—except now, my nightstand is stacked with grown-up reads, and I often find a bookmark stuck somewhere between last night’s paragraph and this morning’s alarm.
Yet some things never change. I still believe in the power of a good story. Only now, my audience is a bit taller, and the tales I tell revolve around sustainability, business impact, and the real people driving progress.
Welcome to the Greener Words blog, where my childhood love for story time meets my grown-up passion for clear, credible sustainability storytelling.
If you’re here for practical inspiration, or just a fresh take on how words can move the needle for your business, you’re in the right place.
Settle in, grab your favorite mug, and let’s turn the (virtual) page together
Running your own race
What do a high-school athlete, a squirrel, and sustainability reports have in common?
They all featured in my morning run yesterday.
I got up early to beat the heat and run intervals at the high school track. My watch told me to, and I am currently a slave to Garmin badges. This obsession with earning badges may date back to my years with the Girl Guides, but that’s a different story for a different day.
The track was surprisingly busy just after sunrise.
On the back straight, an elderly couple were getting their steps in, chatting as they slowly rounded the curve.
On the front straight, a high-school boy was setting up, carefully positioning a camera so he could track his running form as he sprinted.
On the opposite curve, a woman was starting her fitness journey. I chatted with her for a minute during my warmup, and she told me that she was nervous and had hoped that the track would be empty this early in the day.
Meanwhile, the boy added a strap pulling a 25-pound weight to his waist. Just for fun.
Somewhere between my third and fourth interval, before I started questioning my decision to get up with the sun, I started to notice something:
The track reminded me of the sustainability reporting journey. Some people (read: companies) are happy sticking to their regular laps.
Some are aspiring athletes, pushing themselves to be the best and carefully monitoring every aspect of their performance.
Others are just starting out and can easily get overwhelmed and intimidated by how far they have to go.
But they’re all showing up.
Meanwhile, off to the side, a robin was playing in the water left by the previous night’s storms. A couple of bees flew over my head, looking for nectar. And a squirrel darted up a tree, gathering food for the day ahead.
None of them were worried about what was happening on the track, but all will ultimately be impacted by the changes we make to our environment and by the actions taken by companies as they work to reduce their environmental footprints.
As I stood in the shade recovering from dehydration, I had one last thought before a heat-induced migraine began: In the end, no matter where we are on our journey, we’re all doing something. We’re all stepping onto the track in the first place. And that’s what truly matters.
Also, water. Water matters.
Smells like team spirit: 18 years of storytelling in sustainability reporting
My sustainability reporting career is officially an adult.
Eighteen years ago this month, I embarked on my first Sustainability Report project. At that time, it wasn’t called that—it was a Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR) Report.
Since then, I’ve worked on many projects, and my focus has gradually shifted from translating reports from German to writing reports in English.
I’ve been fortunate to work on a diverse range of projects, learning something valuable from each one—from a 20-page brochure for a family-owned farm to a recent full-length report for one of the world’s largest e-commerce companies.
Let me tell you about one of my most memorable and enjoyable projects from the early days:
The company, now sadly defunct, was headquartered in a German-speaking country and had recently acquired two smaller businesses in North America and the UK.
The PR Manager (back then, Chief Sustainability Officers were a rare breed) wanted to translate the company's latest CSR report into English to print and post (gasp).
He also happened to be married to a British woman who suggested that native English speakers respond better to stories than to lists of facts and figures. So, he knew the report needed more than a straightforward translation.
As a guitarist in a band, the PR Manager had a creative idea: why not make the report more engaging by giving it a musical theme?
With support from the management team, which was open to trying something new, we decided to sprinkle musical references throughout the report.
A page on employees (originally titled “Das Wir-Gefühl,” or “The We Feeling”) was renamed "Smells Like Team Spirit."
The water section became "(No) Smoke on the Water."
An introductory letter from the Managing Director was changed from "Einleitung" (Introduction) to "Taking Care of Business."
We didn’t stop at catchy titles. The German-language report was full of passive sentences, abstract concepts, and Germany-specific references (who knows, offhand, how many recycled bottles you would need to put in a line to stretch from Hamburg to Munich?).
So, we streamlined the report by moving data into tables, changing the copy from third to first person, and removing content that wasn’t suitable for an international audience.
Ah, it was a simpler time back then—a single layer of review, no lawyers, and no mandatory reporting requirements.
Since then, I’ve worked on many sustainability reports across various industries, each with its own unique challenges and rewards.
But that project, with its musical twist, will always hold a special place in my heart.
Here’s to eighteen years of sustainability reporting—and to many more years of creative storytelling ahead!
Putting on a costume
I love Halloween…or any reason to dress up. This year, I was Little Red Riding Hood (with my rescue dog, Lucky, starring as best supporting actor). In years past, I’ve reinvented myself for a night as Mary Poppins, a spider, a cat, and a tired mother to a newborn (twice).
Last Monday, before donning my red cape, I spent the day preparing for my first project of the 2022/23 sustainability reporting season. Just like it’s hard to pull together a costume the day of Halloween, it makes sense to do some prep work before starting to write a sustainability report.
For me, that means putting on the “costume” of the reporting entity. It means digging through previous years’ reports, identifying their tone of voice, and reviewing any stylistic preferences. It means looking at what their competitors are doing and the SASB standards for their industry.
Over time, I’ve formalized this process, so now I have a template that I use for every project. This master sheet contains all important information at a glance, from contact details to the chosen reporting framework(s) to deadlines. And I’ll have this piece of paper next to my keyboard as I start writing (I’ll pop a copy in the comments for anyone else who might be interested).
Also on my desk? Plenty of many mini-Snickers and Skittles that I’ve hidden to power me through the first draft. Don’t tell the kids.