Ana-Marie Jones is surprisingly upbeat for someone who spends most of her waking hours planning for the worst.

Jones, executive director of Collaborating Agencies Responding to Disasters (CARD), a nonprofit organization based in Oakland, California, is visiting Japan to teach workshops, meet with officials and citizens of Niigata, and attend the U.N. World Conference on Disaster Reduction in Kobe.

For Jones, disaster planning doesn't have to be depressing, and it should be anything but scary. Her mission is to create a world full of responders rather than victims. ``My response to the word victim is that having a victim is so entirely avoidable,'' she says. ``We build victims by building systems that only help victims and the victim mentality. That's humble and lovely, but what if we built people to be resilient?''

Jones, a native of New York with a background in marketing, moved to California in 1989. The Loma Prieta Earthquake of the same year prompted Jones to start volunteering for the Red Cross, and ultimately led to a career change. After working for the Red Cross and regional emergency response services, Jones landed at CARD, where she took on the task of revamping the status quo of disaster preparation, which she says was based on fear.

The current CARD model relies on the Standardized Emergency Management System for community responders. The system is far from rocket science, Jones says, but is a simple and effective means of preparing for and responding to emergencies.

Today, disaster preparation seems to have permeated every part of Jones' life. This, she says, is just the point. Preparing for disaster should be a natural and comfortable-even fashionable-part of everyday life, she maintains.

Jones' business card illustrates the point. What appears to be a typical name card unfolds to reveal ``Disaster Response At-a-Glance,'' with tips on how to remain calm and delegate the necessary leadership roles during times of an emergency. ``Who's going to turn down taking my business card?'' she asks with a satisfied chuckle.

Even Jones' jewelry has pragmatic flair; on a silver chain around her neck, what looks to be an ordinary charm opens to reveal a tightly folded 10,000 yen bill. In her purse, she carries another of her favorite trinkets, a tiny silver egg into which she has crammed (with the help of pliers) a $100 bill.

You can never be too prepared, she says. And it can even be attractive.

The problem with most disaster preparation, she says, is that it's based on negative images and fear. Though these tactics may produce short term results-encouraging people to buy duct tape in the face of Y2K or terrorist threats, for instance- there is no lasting impact, Jones asserts. ``Fear needs constant reminders or else you lose the sense of fear.''

Her job, as someone with experience in disasters and marketing, is to ``sell'' disaster preparedness. ``Marketing is really about reaching people personally,'' she says, and fear does nothing but encourage people to tune out. ``I believe heart and soul that disaster services and emergency management is the most incorrectly marketed service you can imagine.''

During a recent conference in Tokyo, in collaboration with Japan-U.S. Community Education and Exchange, Jones met with various representatives of nonprofit agencies about ways to incorporate disaster preparation into their organizations. Disaster preparation is for everyone, she says, and not just those who are professionally trained.

In both her lectures and everyday conversation, Jones makes it a point to avoid what she calls ``disaster geek speak,'' which she says is spouted far too often in teaching disaster preparation. ``We don't give a disaster plan in a binder, we make an interactive plan together,'' Jones says of the CARD model. The key is teaching people how to think instead of panic, she says. With a little creativity, even a simple Ziploc bag can help save lives-doubling as an inflatable device, drinking cup, toilet or sterilized glove.

Ideally, working at the local level with local citizens is most effective in disaster preparation, Jones says. In light of the recent tsunami in South Asia, for instance, Jones expresses concern about what will happen to local groups and agencies after international media attention and aid dwindle.

``What's left will be service agencies that have more need than they've ever had before.''

In the aftermath of many disasters, money that would normally be used to provide long-term support to local nonprofit groups is often funneled into disaster relief funds. Though this may help a community in the short-term, the long-term effects can leave community agencies and organizations without the financial means to survive, Jones says.

Disaster doesn't have to be something that irreversibly weakens a community, Jones maintains. To emphasize this, she likes to use the analogy of a broken bone, which-with the right therapy-can emerge from a fracture more resilient.

``The CARD model advocates looking at local nonprofits first in a disaster, so they're involved, and after they're left stronger.''

In Japan, the time is just right for the CARD model to work. Because many volunteer and nonprofit agencies are in their infancy, disaster preparation can be built into the very foundations of community groups and NPOs, she says. ``I think this is an awesome opportunity because a lot of the agencies are in their developmental stages.''

Jones first came to Japan in the fall of 2003 to meet with government officials in Tokyo and Kobe about the CARD model's take on disaster preparation. Collaboration between California and Japan makes sense, Jones says, as they have in common the threat of several natural disasters. ``We (in California) are a disaster theme park, and everybody knows that.''

CARD, which gained funding in 1994 and nonprofit status in 1997, aims to reach those who are often the most vulnerable in times of disaster-the elderly, disabled and poverty-stricken-and turn them into responders.

The best way to be prepared is to have a plan. ``In disaster movies, actors always do a good job-their roles are scripted. We can learn something from that.''

Jones began her recent lecture in Tokyo with a daunting five-page list of potential disasters, everything from the usual suspects-earthquakes, fires, floods and riots-to the more esoteric-UFOs, extraterrestrials and space debris. In spite of the lengthy list, Jones is adamant about admitting fallibility and analyzing mistakes. One of the worst ways to deal with disaster is arrogance, she says, citing the Titanic's reputation as ``unsinkable.''

``In the world of disaster, you have two choices: victim or responder,'' Jones says. ``It's not that I don't have a warm, soft, fuzzy feeling about victims. I'm just looking for a long term solution to our victim cycle.''

Visiting Niigata was both personally and professionally rewarding, Jones says, and there was much to learn because the city is still a ``fresh, open wound.'' In meeting with government officials and community groups, touring devastated areas and working with local volunteers, Jones says the most profound part of the trip was visiting and interviewing survivors living in temporary housing.

Jones was also impressed by the dedication of local volunteers, who prove that helping and healing go hand in hand. ``Volunteering and helping is part of the personal healing process,'' she says. ``If there's not a system in place to support this, people walk the world feeling disempowered, feeling helpless.''

Visit < www.seikatubunka.metro.tokyo.jp/index3files/survivalmanual.pdf > to view or download the Tokyo metropolitan government's bilingual (Japanese-English) Earthquake Survival Manual.(IHT/Asahi: January 22,2005)