I’m Jen Carole. Nice to meet you.

I’m a communicator, a systems thinker, a trauma survivor, a lifelong volunteer, and someone who deeply believes that people are more important than things.

I grew up in politics before I had any say in the matter. My dad was a lawyer and a politician. My mom was one of those extraordinary women who held everything together when her marriage fell apart in the early 1970s, back when women were still inventing the concept of financial independence in real time. She raised three kids, went back to school, built a career with the State of California, and somehow kept us upright after my father and stepmother were murdered.

That experience shaped me in ways I am still understanding.

It made me deeply attentive to language, power, systems, and how people survive what should not have happened to them.

Professionally, I spent decades in Silicon Valley as a strategic marketer and brand leader. I consulted across industries and held senior roles inside companies, including serving as Director of Brand at Adobe. I learned how narratives are built, how incentives shape behavior, and how systems quietly determine outcomes long before individuals are blamed for them.

Tell me your business model and your objectives, and I can usually see the throughline. Tell me your values, and I can usually tell you where they will be tested.

I create content because it soothes me. Sharing information that helps people live more grounded, agentic lives feels like a meaningful use of time.

I am also a true crime survivor.

My father and stepmother were murdered in 1980. Decades later, the man who killed them was identified, arrested, and convicted. You may know him as the Golden State Killer. I talk about that experience, and its long aftermath, in my podcast The Lawyer’s Daughter. Recovery is not linear, and I am still in it.

During the pandemic, I trained as a life coach, specializing in working with trauma survivors and business leaders. I work with patterns, energy, and problem-solving approaches, because coping strategies that once kept us safe can quietly hold us back later in life.

And yes, I crochet.

I learned when I was nine, sitting with our next-door neighbor, Gramma Watson. Crochet has been my yarn-based Xanax ever since. It is tactile, regulating, connective, and a reminder that making things with your hands matters in a world that often feels abstract and disposable. All of my crochet earnings go into a small scholarship fund I’ve created. I also fully acknowledge that I have a yarn problem.

You’ll find my ten commandments on this site. They are not rules. They are guardrails. They reflect how I try to move through the world: with intention, humor, curiosity, and a refusal to dehumanize.

This site, my writing, and my podcast are for people who are paying attention, who care deeply about human rights and democracy, and who are trying to stay human in a time when that is harder than it should be.

If that sounds like you, you’re in the right place.

Here’s how to contact me.