Photo by Edward Cisneros

I am really working hard to avoid feeling hungover at the end of this school year.  It’s been a long year for me that involved a lot of hurdle jumping, dart dodging, problem solving, traffic directing, and celebrating of milestones in the lives of students and campus partners. Last week we began the end of year celebrations that usher in the four commencement experiences soon to come.  At the celebration this week, there were student presenters who inspired me to continue the work of student development and to remain hopeful in the limitless potential of the students served on my campus.  The program was designed to celebrate amazing accomplishments of some first generation college students and bring attention to significant contributions made by these students in our campus and local communities.  However, I got a little distracted about fifteen minutes into the event by two little people hanging out one section over from me.  They were a section over and parallel to me because they were on the same row.  One little one stood on his mother’s lap and the other stood in the chair next to mom.  For about an hour, these little people cheered enthusiastically and excitedly for each student who took a celebratory stroll across the stage.  If I didn’t know better, I would have believed these little ones were related to each of the soon-to-be college graduates.

During the celebration, a number of us watched and laughed as the oldest boy bounced on the seat of his chair and the younger boy bounced on his mother’s lap after the announcer called the name of a graduate.  Both boys patted their hands together and their faces beamed with joy and happiness with every name called.  I couldn’t tell if there was an audible cheerful expression, but I imagined that they vocalized a “Yay!” or a “Whooo!” every time they clapped.  I remembered why I loved little kids and why that time in life was so special and worthy of preservation.  After the event, I learned that these children were the sons of a colleague.  By the time I was introduced to the little ones, they were running out of steam and growing a bit weary of this adult-like affair.  I got it because I sort of felt the same way by 8pm on what had become a twelve hour work day for me.

I told the colleague and his wife what a joy it was to watch the boys throughout the celebration.  We also discussed the joys of having young children even when they become disgruntled with grownups who make them stay awake beyond their bedtimes.  We laughed about the not-so-joyful experience of little ones waking up in the middle of the night wanting comfort, dryness, or assurance after a bad dream.  In rebuttal to their stories of parental anguish due to the late night or early morning cries for attention, I warned them that my greater concern as a parent became not knowing where my children were late at night or during early morning hours once my children got too grown to live at home.

A few days later I thought about the little boys while I was talking a few other colleagues about ego and pride being barriers for collaborative partnerships.  It seemed that the little boys demonstrated the possibilities when the environment was free of large egos and senseless pride.  I thought about how nice it would be if that selfless part of the little boys that found joy in celebrating others outlived puberty.  I thought that it would be nice if folks who saw value in excellent partnership would gladly donate their great ideas and resources to a community without any concern about who got the credit for the ideas or the outcomes.  I thought it would cool if we, like the little boys, had boundless energy for uplifting and applauding the successes of others who worked hard to reach the goals they set for themselves.  How much more positive and productive would this world be if we spent more time infusing smiles, laughter, and verbal affirmations into our spaces than words and deeds that spew negative vibes and judgment?  I don’t really think that kind of energy would be measurable, but who cares about the exactness of happiness.  After watching the little boys, I was reminded that I didn’t count the number of bounces, hand claps, or smiles.  I just appreciated their laughs, bounces, and smiles.  Their gleeful expressions were contagious and in good way and I hoped that they would continue making me smile from the inside out.

Be intentional about your word choices and your actions.  Be intentional about avoiding prohibitive language, words that judge or shame, and actions that polarize your community.  Be intentional about doing things and saying words that encourage fence mending, community building, and motivational affirmations.  When you struggle to find something to make you smile or laugh, think about the little boys you imagined as you read this post.  Let that vision move you to clear your head of any nonsense.  In that moment, you should find peace and stillness long enough to make a decision to create a positive vibe in your space.  Work to create those kind of moments for yourself or others every day this week.  I promise I will make that my week long mission too.

Wednesday as the work day drew to a close, a colleague who was exiting the building said, “I’m gone.”  I replied, “Have a great weekend!”  Everyone in earshot immediately laughed out loud as I looked and felt perplexed.  Then, she said something like, “It’s not Friday yet, Kim.  It’s only Wednesday.”  I shook my head, rolled my eyes (at myself), and laughed along with everyone else.

Too many tasks due on the same day, technological challenges, working almost a full work day after Easter service Sunday, and back-to-back meetings each day Monday through Wednesday made Wednesday feel like Friday to me.  Even after I realized that my long work days made me want to end the work week in the middle of the week, I decided that attending an evening event that same night was a good idea.  It was the second evening event for me within that previously described four day stretch.  The week reminded me that my decision to do anything for any purpose, purposeful or fun, came with a cost – my time and my energy.

I love my job and most of the folks I encounter in conjunction with my work.  Thankfully, a couple of the folks whose opinions I value reminded me that I have the capacity to say no and to decide how to spend my time and energy.  These colleagues who I also consider friends encouraged me to set reasonable and attainable expectations for myself.  Ever wonder why you repeat behaviors that you know lead to certain outcomes?  For the last two years, I have written about what felt like hangover symptoms at the ends of the last two school years.  Wednesday evening I wondered if my hangover blog post theme would become a trilogy.

Thursday, I participated in a workshop called “As I see myself.”  Much of what I learned about myself I already knew.  However, I gained a deeper understanding about why I need the campus partners who I affecitonately call “my handlers.”  The presenter happened to be one of my trusted mentors and through the workshop he and I learned more details about my personality type and behavioral tendencies.  Because of the new, or more detailed revelations, he coached me to identify when my tasks lists included unrealistic expectations.  I thought about the potential results of too many tasks coupled with the natural tendancis of an outcomes, tasks-driven sort of person.

During the workshop, a number of my colleagues also self-identified their behavioral classifications.  It was pretty cool to explore the behaviors needed to sustain a productive, efficient, well-equipped village.  The evaluation instrument revealed the behaviors to which we were naturally inclined and those that might be learned.  The new revelations aroused my inner village builder.  Excitment built inside me as I dreamed about constructing healthy, supportive villages for young people equipped with the new findings.  The new perspective of me meant new options for being the best me.  I closed out the week with new data and a new focus.  The new data made it imperative that I shift my focus to balance.  I needed to consider balancing my natural and rehearsed behaviors with the behaviors the instruments placed opposite my normal.

Interestly, lack of balance at times during the last two years resulted in the hungover blog posts.  I failed at my work-life balance early in the week and I think in some way part of me tried to shock the rest of me into reasonableness by making me the subject of the office joke Wednesday afternoon.  I said “tried” because I didn’t get the hint that day.  As physically tired as I was Wednesday evening, I sat through an operatic performance fighting sleep and the fear of snoring out load when the lights dimmed and the violinist played in tune with the vocalist.  The sounds in the theatre calmed and soothed the room and I wondered how many others struggled with the spirit of sleep and drowsiness lurking in the room.

Friday, I processed with others our shared experiences at “As I see myself.”  The more I processed with attendees the more I owned that my ability to responsibly manage my behaviors would have a direct impact on my work-life balance.  Moreover, I accepted that my balancing act and the consistency with which I performed the balancing act would impact the stability of the village and the community.

Balance is missing in so many sectors of our society right now.  It seems that many folks prefer polarization over the balancing act that yields buy in and sustainable processes and programming.  Many choose polarization over submission to the greater cause that uplifts the larger community because of their own agendas.  Balance requires selfless actions instead of actions that promote the self-seeking agendas.  Balance means understanding that self-preservation means preserving oneself in order to commit thyself to the cause of the larger community or team.  Balance mandates self-awareness and self-acceptance of our own behaviors rather than shaming or blaming others for situations and outcomes that were completely in our control.  Our decisions and behaviors can make us gracious contributors to society or simply takers who sifen the good things out of the community or team.

Thank God that I lived to enjoy a quiet Saturday.  Thank God that this Saturday gifts me the opporuitnity to sit and think about the balance between my life passion with the wide scale mission of my community and the place I work.  I challenge my audience to do the same. Once that is accomplished, help me figure out how we use our balanced lives to model and promote balance in our communities and in our country.

Daddy used to tell me to be mindful of how I treated those who might be perceived to have less status than others in the community.  He told me to be respectful to those who cleaned, cooked, and took care of many of the things I didn’t care to manage or didn’t have time to manage.  I enjoyed time spent talking to people who worked in the shadows of the office or the community managing the details of things that many of us took for granted until we notice they missed a day or didn’t complete the tasks to our satisfaction. Most of us prefer not to be anywhere near “close to the bottom” or classified in that pool of folks relegated to servitude in the shadows of “greatness.”

Along this same line of thinking was the topic of a discussion with a close friend many years ago about the benefits of “working your way up from the bottom.”  At that time, I didn’t understand all of the benefits of life as an apprentice, novice, or intern.  However, after I lived and had to “work my way up” or move through what I liked to call “the rites of passage,” I trusted the coaching of my friend and my father.  My friend was right that the road from the bottom to the top changes perspectives, builds confidences, and should enlighten the students about the people, the culture, and the industry.  It seems Daddy and my friend got it right.

I had the opportunity to share my six month journey with a few audiences this week.  One group said my transparency encouraged them.  Another group said my testimony empowered them.  The final group reminded me that people sat as curious observers formulating perceptions, judgments, and opinions about my mid-level life and the process that became my journey.  I explained that the experiences didn’t excite me, but my delayed gratification benefited me personally and professionally.  Suddenly, I became aware of the truth that even if I found contentment in the shadows or contentment in my developmental process there would be judgement and scrutiny of my role, my positioning, and my trajectory toward “success.” Daddy didn’t tell me about this part.

I mastered the part about being kind to people who worked in the shadows supporting those in more visible stations in the village.  I also believed that people watched other people struggle.  The last group taught me that people studied the shadow dwellers not just to see if they could come up from the bottom, but to learn fear and limitation.  I told someone several months ago that I was concerned that my challenges might make others be afraid to take risks or to dream outside of their present conditions.  The person who listened didn’t tell me I was right.  However, when the last group of observers verbalized their thoughts this week, I sort of got sick to my stomach just a bit.  Like a butterfly before it emerged from a cocoon, I settled into my not-so-pretty state of isolation and spent time doing the work required to prepare for whatever came next.  My six month journey led me to a place of growth and gratitude while many of the folks I hoped to inspire watched and interpreted my challenges as barriers and detours.

I am glad that I took the time to share my story this week.  I am proud that I inspired and encouraged some.  Moreover, I am thankful that I got a chance to remind folks that we learn in moments of challenge and that life experiences honestly are “the best teachers.”  Because I am now mindful that people who I want to motivate to be the versions of themselves are watching me work to become the best version of myself, I need to be intentional about how I navigate the journey.  I will remind myself to be mindful of the outward expressions I allow them to hear and see during my journey.  It is also important that I take opportunities to explain the truth about their perceptions whenever the opportunity presents itself.

I hope that my audience will look for opportunities for development whenever there is a feeling of being at the bottom or a sentiment of failure or resentment about living in the shadows.  I hope that each of us will refuse to let the challenges or life stations of others become your story simply because it’s easier to adopt their limits than it might be to work to overcome our own fear or doubt.  I want to encourage folks to take ownership of their circumstances, make sense of the circumstances as best you can, then appreciate the special role they are called to play in the community.

Asking and answering the question, “What will be different about me in six months?” directed my thoughts to other times in my life when intimacy with a life challenge resulted in personal growth.

I thought about the developmental process of my children from birth to six months.  I experienced their evolution from infants dependent on me for everything to independent beings.  In their infancy, their needs seemed very basic to me and I imagined that their understanding of their needs was innate, without depth of analysis.  It seemed that they communicated “Hey Lady, feed me, change me, hold me, then repeat!”  I complied until I realized their needs changed as they grew to understand that the world offered choices and that they more they developed the more their menu of options expanded.  Their development and curiosity about themselves and the world around them modeled what should be an ongoing process throughout our lives.  My children moved from infants with a limited range of sight and expectations to children with teeth who could sit upright independently and enjoy a broader view of the landscape.  This became my metaphorical explanation of life’s cyclical journey.  It reinforced for me that a grown could experience meaningful changes in their lives in a period of six months.

I watched my kids intently every day during the first six months to see what might change.  I anticipated their first words and any signs of independent living.  I wanted to see development.  I believed that growth was a good and necessary thing.  On the other hand, I have allowed time to pass in my own life and said something like, “Where did the last six months go?”  How did I, as an adult, with so much “wisdom” and “life experience” miss the greater lessons in the developmental moments in front of me?  Once again, a few cliches came to mind.  I evaluated the meanings of these often quoted life principles in a few six month stints in my life.

“Be a life learner,” resonated with me.  I haven’t decided if attainment of life learner status was innate or learned.  My parents were educators and their constant message was “learn something new everyday” which was probably why life learner status felt like a part of my DNA.  I have come to learn that other folks learn through “the school of hard knocks” which earned them life learner status.  However, I didn’t think their life learner status met the spirit of the definition because they lacked the inquisitive childlike nature that seeks out opportunities to accept teaching.  I have been told that I am easily entertained like a child.  I have also been teased by folks because of my fondness of animated children’s movies.  Preachers, in my past, suggested to parishioners that maintaining a youthful spirit and perspective made it easier to hear from the heavens.  Those who believed would be led by humility and adjust their behaviors accordingly.  Maybe my childlike behaviors solidified me as a life learner.

Just over twenty years ago, I lived “my Kentucky experience.”  About six months prior to the start of the experience, I decided to quit a jobs and stay home with my daughter.  I quit the job in late January and in June found myself moving to Kentucky in support of a spousal dream although it felt like a less secure situation for me.  The next six months brought life changing events, including the acquisition and loss of the job that was the catalyst of the move to Kentucky, an unexpected pregnancy, a medical card, WIC vouchers, and the birth of my second child.  On the other side of the six month window, my father died and within the next few months we moved from Kentucky.  One day I will publish the rest of the Kentucky experience, but for now, I will summarize the lessons learned.

• Some life lessons are tough and hearing “What don’t kill you makes you stronger” just makes you aggravated.
• Some people kick other people when they are down (and I never wanted to be one of those people).
• Some people rally to support folks who struggle.
• I needed encouragers.
• I grew emotionally and spiritually.
• I developed more when I embraced life as a student.
• Six months with my “back against the wall” pressed with the weight of an eternity.
• Don’t get caught dissecting the development of others and miss your opportunities to learn life lessons.

Last week, while traveling to Alabama, I wrote about lessons I learned in a six month period that inspired the course of my life for almost a year.  I spent last weekend in Alabama visiting my sister-in-law and my sister.  It was my first visit to Alabama since my brother’s death almost a year ago.  During my flight home, I thought about other times in my life when six months brought significant life lessons.  So, I wrote a sequel to last week’s post and I realized that it would post March 17th, my brother’s birthday.  Then, I decided to make that next week’s post and dedicate this week’s post to the memory of my brother.

In commemoration of my brother’s birthday, I reflected on something I said at his funeral.  I said something like, “When my father died, I became frustrated with myself because I couldn’t remember the exact words we said to each other the last time I spoke to him.  After my mother said her last word to me, I wished I had known when it would have been my last time to cook breakfast with her and my last time to have a conversation with her and the last time she would say her last word to me before it was the last time she did any of those things.  With Butch, it was different because I knew that he was dying months before he died.  As a result, I was intentional about what I said to him every time I got to speak to him so that I wouldn’t have to regret or wonder if I said something meaningful to him the last time I got to speak to him.” Because of my intentional discussions with him, I thought that I knew a lot about him, in the last six months of his life.  However, I learned things about him that I didn’t expect to learn in the last six months like his will to enjoy life with those he loved, his life as a provider, and his passion for teaching.  He fought a gallant fight with cancer and during the last rounds his former band students shared stories about lessons they learned from their favorite band director.  Many of my brother’s students also had relationships with Mama and Daddy who were also beloved educators.  Like my parents, my brother, had uplifting young people and building supportive, healthy villages for the young ones in his DNA.

Butch and I often rallied back and forth with things Daddy used to say.  Our loving exchanges that memorialized Daddy’s wise statements usually ended in laughter.  Butch told me that the last section of his band students’ notebooks was a entitled something like “Things Mr. Cooper’s Daddy used to say” (I have wished for years that one of his former students would share that list with me one day.)  Daddy’s use of old adages and timely placed cliches influenced Butch’s employment of a similar teaching methodology.  Butch became known for his own list of sayings, but the most popular one was the following mantra: “There are no shortcuts to success.”

Daddy taught us to work hard and “get the job done.”  Butch learned from Daddy the concept of generating desired outcomes regardless of the obstacles.  Butch instilled this in his students in addition to the truth that “nothing in life that is worthwhile comes easy.”  I also believe they probably heard him say that sometimes you need “some elbow grease” to finish the job.  He belted out these and other country sayings in all of the band rooms he blessed with that raised baton and the battery operated bullhorn he used to bring order.  Daddy would say, “There is noise and there is noise-noise” meaning noise produced chaos that signaled disorder while noise-noise created the beauty of development and productive actions.  In the last six month stretch, the wind in Butch’s sails came courtesy of the musicians who owned the noise-noise.  The former students assured him that his mantra and his seemingly tired cliches lived on in them outside of the band room experiences.

During the last six months of his life, former students affirmed Butch through visits, social media posts, and other types of tributes.  The students became the teachers.  I saw the tangible outcomes attained from Butch blessing young people with encouraging words.  I witnessed the lasting power of words and phrases rooted in experience.  The cliches were “tried and true” sayings that would survive seven generations for a reason.  As my Brother’s strength faded, I gained wisdom and emotional staying power.  I credited the seeds he planted in his former students with the bountiful fruits of wisdom being harvested by me.  His transitioning into the sunset ironically made the sun rise within me.  Watching his former students and listening to them honor the teaching that felt like preaching “back in the day,” warmed my heart and lit the path for me to move toward a more purposeful life.

Spend some time thinking about some words and phrases that were unique to your family.  Share them with me if you would like because I would love to hear them.  Think about the words that felt the most preachy and that made you secretly (or not so secretly) roll your eyes.  If thinking about any of those words or phrases made you smile or giggle or repeat them out loud, your life has been enriched.  Now, use that positive energy to make a positive impact on the lives of other people for the next six months.