Category Archives: Leadership

And the children shall lead us

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.

 

 

 

Sustainable leadership requires seed planting and weed pulling

In my line of work, I know that there is always potential for unpredictable, unexplainable things to happen.  Sometimes the job of supporting students, their families, and members of the community through moments of extreme crisis, trauma, or challenge weighs heavy on my mid and heart.  I love the fact that during the course of my work I experience a range of experiences.  I love the fact that monotony is not my daily experience because monotonous living never satisfies my soul.  The variety of work experiences provides opportunity for me to enrich and nourish my soul regularly.

I am challenged (and not in a good way) when the unpredictable and unexplainable experiences stir in me feelings of sadness, disappointment, extreme frustration, or some combination of the three.  I never want to repeat the experiences that cause that those types of deep emotional moments.  Those moments can figuratively make time stop and the earth shake beneath my feet.  At those moments, I have forgotten the excitement shared with a student who lived to tell the story of overcoming challenges.  At those times, I have remembered the importance of a supportive community.  At those times, I reflected and began new thoughts about prevention, education, and support services for community members.  My experiences in higher education have taught me that when the work taxes me and my colleagues at a soul-stirring level, we must respect the impact of those moments by removing ourselves long enough to process the experiences and recover from the same.  Last week, I gave myself permission to process and recover which meant not writing a blog post last weekend.

Over the course of the week, I was reminded of just how messy, petty, and self-absorbed some folks can be in the name of the greater good or a higher power.  I observed the self-absorbed take a defensive posture while espousing the messaging of a victim or martyr without acknowledging the challenges of their talented peers.  It seemed that some spent so much energy fueling wet timber that they missed opportunities to flame ties already lit.

The work of most student services professionals is performed outside of physical classrooms.  As a result, I felt that we can be devalued and minimized by some and taken for granted by others. I grew tired in the last few weeks of listening to folks whose rhetoric spoke of hopeful, progressive, genuine  concern for the greater good yet the methodology and practices produced little fruit.  I believed that there was little fruit because the weeds grew as fast as the poisoned seeds they planted.  I have never seen a productive or sustainable garden without a gardner planting seed in fertile ground then investing time in the weed pulling and nurturing of the crop.  I was a seed planter and a weed puller who watched an organically grown crop be fertilized with poison, crappy feed my should ached.  My soul ached because the farmers satisfied their egos by standing on pedestals at the county fair smiling and showing off the prized goods.  They cared more about the attention they garnered than they cared about the science of farming.  The prize winning farmers wanted the trophy and the recognition without regard for the quality of crop they produced and fed to the community.  They had no regard for replenishing the land either.

I have always said that I didn’t inherit Mama’s green thumb.  Now, I believe her gardening skills lived on through me.  Mama was a life long educator and she always had some type of garden at the house.  Here are lessons I learned from her that transferred nicely to my life the last few weeks.

  1. Having a vision of a vibrant garden is enough to justify investing time and resources into the work of gardening.
  2. Be honest with yourself about the tools and resources at your disposal.  Extrapolating on the real situation or straight fabrication never makes the untruths true or the soil fertile enough to yield a bountiful, sustainable harvest.
  3. Variety is a good thing when it comes to the aesthetics and longevity of the garden.
  4. Take care of and pride in your work.  Ownership of self, of the work product, and outcomes go together.  Ownership of one and not the others usually manifests itself in manipulation and shady business.
  5. Know the elements and adapt.  I like to think that there is enough sunlight for everybody to feel the shine, but I have learned that some have the sharecropping mentality that makes them the owner of the land and the light.
  6. Sometimes folks mimic master sorcerers and not farmers who take pride in their work.  They seek to manipulate all of the elements in order to control the growth and production of the crop.  This type of manipulation agitates root systems, burns foliage, and frustrates seed planters and weed pullers who contributed their time and energy solely for the purpose of blessing others with a plethora of beautiful vibrant living things at some unknown point in the future.
  7. Educators work in fields of potential whether there is one student or thousands or students.
  8. If you identify as an educator, your successes shouldn’t be contingent on public approval.
  9. Educators should be careful not to over water the field or strip the land of the richness that might make the environment flourish.
  10. Finally, appreciate the space, the gift to invest in the crop, and share the blessing with others freely.

 

Know your blindspots!

The message today is short and sweet.  I know I’ve said that before, but today I really mean it.  I really have to mean it because as is my usual my weekend plans include more than I really can get done in one weekend.  The irony in me saying that with my “outside voice” is that my experiences over the last couple of weeks should have taught me that setting realistic, attainable goals is important.  So, while I did make progress by recognizing that “smart” goal setting is optimal,  application of life lessons remains a challenge for me.

I have spent the last two weeks completing instruments designed to evaluate my personality type and the process by which I reach outcomes.  All of the processing was great, but the trick is not to overthink any of it.  I learned that many of the things I do well come natural to me.  I learned that most of the time my personality traits compliment the processes used to reach outcomes, especially in my professional life.  During all of the surveying, I realized that in my professional life I have more freedom move fluidly through the quadrants that define my personality than I do the quadrants that define the typology of how I process decision making to achieve an outcome.  The last two weeks of analysis, introspection, and evaluation affirmed that blindspots exists for all of us and that there is benefit in identifying those blindspots.  Not only should we identify the blindspots, we need to proactively create methods to protect yourself and others from your blindspots.

At the end of the weeks of surveying myself, I owned that I have big dream potential.  The big dreamer sees big pictures and often chases the outcome without thinking about the details of the process.  Who needs process if you can get to the outcome? Well, the truth is that I know that process and attention to details matter even if paying attention to details is not my natural inclination.  I also know that I don’t always focus on the details because I don’t always understand the intricate parts of the big picture I drew in my head.  Who needs to know all of the details in order to dream?  Not me. I recognize that this is a blindspot so before I get too far down the road chasing the big picture I seek advice from trusted, knowledgable advisors.  Most of the time I convince the advisors to help me develop the plan of action and hang around to remind me when it is time for me to act and remind me when it’s time for me to carry out part of the process.  I call my advisors “handlers.”

Having “handlers” means I find people who are not just like me in practice, but just like me in their level of passion for reaching outcomes beneficial to the whole.  They are strong in those areas in which I am challenged.  Their strengths afford me support and a greater potential to be greater than I ever could have been without them.  So, while I work every day to build healthy, supportive villages for young people, I work to do the same thing for myself.  My “handlers” know who they are and they know that I value them.  I am not a genius without them and I will do everything I can do to offer then support, encouragement, and empowerment that meets them in their areas of challenge.

My advice to my audience today is this:

Don’t be embarrassed by imperfection or limitations.

Don’t let your ego make you miss a chance to celebrate the strengths of others.

Don’t let your fear of admitting that you have a blindspot and risk allowing something to sneak up on you and take you off course.

Find your blindspots.  Then, find some folks to guard those spots with cautious, attentive, constant professional oversight.

Remember that the most successful leaders find ways to involve others who can enhance the community.  Excellent leaders also find ways to encourage, empower, and enlighten their “handlers.” Excellent leaders create a village of strong, supported, confident, productive village.

 

 

 

 

 

Happy Saturday!

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.

My six month journey wasn’t just about me

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.

 

 

 

 

Six Months (Part 3)

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.

 

 

Six Months (Part 2)

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.

 

 

 

Six Months

“What will be different about me in six months?” I asked myself when I learned that I was the last candidate standing after  a competitive search and that I would not be offered the position.  I also asked close friends and mentors, “What will be different in six months?”  Some sat with me and absorbed my disappointment.  Others reacted with emotion that mirrored my frustration.  While all of them met an emotional need I had at the moment, there were several who I considered very seasoned, objective onlookers to my professional speed bump.  My mature mentors and partners affirmed my feelings of disappointment and rejection.  In their wisdom, they quickly moved me into a discussion about a proper response to “no” or “not yet” because my take away from the competitive process was “probably never” or “not here.”  They helped me change the narrative and my journey.

According to my mentors and partners, the next six months would be critical in my personal and professional development.  They were right.  At that time I thought that I understood more about myself and my circumstances then I actually did.  The next six months initiated a process that helped me gain new understanding about the layered complexities in life that can distract, that can obstruct, and that can have the potential to develop the whole me.  Once I processed the hurt, disappointment, and frustration, those emotions fueled the next phase – growth.

My six month journey to develop professionally inspired personal maturity as well.  Six months seemed like a short window of time to achieve what felt like an intangible “thing” that I was lacking.  Six months seemed like a long time to invest in doing what it felt like I had already been doing all of my life.  Six months became almost a year-long transformative experience for me.  I believed I was a life learner before the process began, but I learned that life lessons were layered.  As an engaged student, I sought out and explored ideas, principles, and resources that enabled me to conceptualize the vast potential of my gifts and talents and how the same might add more to the spaces and people I aimed to bless and uplift.  Six months did that for me and more.  In six months, some old adages and cliches visited me.  The voices of generations taught me why certain phrases have been repeated for so many years by so many people that we don’t know who said them first and some folks believe the words were first printed in the King James version of the Bible.  Here are two phrases and what I learned in relation to those statements:

“Follow your dreams.”  I know my passion and my purpose.  I was pretty certain that I found the arena that fit my passion and my purpose.  There were even days when I felt that I was “living the dream.”  I was living what I have told students was the ultimate goal of a college student: 1. Figure out what you love to do, 2. Figure out if you are truly good at doing the thing you say you love to do, and 3. Find somebody to pay you to do what you are passionate about doing and that you are good at doing.  In my opinion, that was the trifecta for success for living.

“Time is of the essence.”  This cliche brought to mind another one: “Time waits for no one.”  Disappointment and rejection did not play nice or fair.  They knocked me to my knees.  They opened some wounds and added a new dimension of emotional challenge to my life.  Like a prized fighter who takes a knew after receiving a powerful left hook from the opponent, I heard the referee counting me out.  Whether they knew it or not my mentors and partners became the cheers form the crowd commanding me to “get up” and fight on.  My mentors and partners were awesome coaches who ordered me to get moving “now” and to let them be the ropes that gave me balance and support.  They encouraged me to trust them to direct my course.  As much as I preach trust and reliance on the village to my students and those I mentor, it was tough for me to apply my teachings to my own challenged life.  My mentors coached me to stand in my brokenness with confidence and focus.  Gratitude and humility comforted me because they cared enough to force me to “think quick.”  I quickly adjusted my attitude and perspective.  The competitor within rose up to thank disappointment and rejection for motivating me to fortify myself with new beliefs, new knowledge, new strength, and a larger village.

“What will be different in six months?” was at the foundation of the questions I asked myself and others for a number of weeks.  A lot can change in six months and the truth is that you should not be the same six months from now.  My job and living situation did not change in the six month period, but I did change.  I hope that my audience will examine a situation that challenges them the most then delve into the challenge in a way that makes them stronger, smarter, and more confident in their own skin.  I want my audience to find passion and purpose that is magnified by fighting through the things that challenge them the most.  Finally, I want my audience to know that there are other lessons I learned through this almost year long journey spent overcoming disappointment and frustration.  I will share those at a later date.

 

 

Village Building

One of my passions is building healthy, supportive villages for young people.  I started this blog because I realized that grown folks often lacked the skills and abilities necessary to communicate and encourage young people in a way that propelled the young ones to greatness.  Most often I found that grown folks couldn’t even help a young person to merely alright status let alone get them to greatness.  My vision was to use my personal experiences to educate, empower, and enlighten people to go in search of the the thing or things that made their souls sing then use whatever they found to help those in their villages.  In other words, I wanted folks to delve into themselves until they could answer the question “What makes my eyes light up when I think about it or speak about it?”  Once the person could answer that questions I wanted to encourage them to take a risk and go do it.

I have known for years that connecting people and ideas brought me much excitement.  In the south, people described me as “nice” or “sweet” or hospitable.”  Later, I learned that I had a gift of building social capital which is more than just being kindhearted and social.  For years, I called my communities of connectedness villages.  My villages were comprised of specialists in every field that my family and I needed to have abundant life.  I knew cooks, electricians, handymen, plumbers, computer techs, photographers, musicians, hairdressers, nail techs, community leaders, educators, lawn guys, mechanics, and members of the clergy.  I always told my kids that I knew people who knew people.  I also knew that if I respected the people and their genius, they would be more responsive whenever I called.  Affirmation was magical and it built a two-way street that amounted to the thing that seems to have been lost in so many places today – relationships.

This week reminded me that people have allowed gravity to pull them horizontally as well as vertically.  The polarizing, silo-dwelling I have witnessed has me envision large magnets surrounding organizations drawing people further away from the center of the community.  This force has separated visionaries from the pulse that gives life to the organization itself.  The magnetic force over time gradually turned the faces of the people away from the heart that gave them all existence.  Instead of reaching with outstretched arms toward the heart, they reached outward toward the appendages of the body with crooked limbs restricting the blood flow capable of producing optimal levels of functioning.  With this less than optimal level of functioning the builders created distance and constructed satellite villages on the outskirts of the primary village.  The most driven and capable leaders who were called to contribute to the greater good become entrenched in the mini-villages that operated independent institutions erected like silos around the village complete with moots to sever the landscape.

Regardless of the name, I have seen this trend problematic for many organizations, including colleges and universities.  When the silo villager became so focused on the outlying community without concern for the infrastructure that initially connected them to the heart source, there was satisfaction with the isolation.  Isolation was opposite of what my friends in the business school called networking.  Separation and isolation impeded the establishment of trust, transparency, or developing viable relationships.  Witnessing fragmented communities this week as a result of failed networks and selfish ambition made my soul disappointed.  I was disappointed that the full potential and sustainability of organizations could never be reached if this modality continued.  I was disappointed that good would never be great and that some people were fine with being average.

The highlight of my week was reflection on random encounters with a couple of middle-aged women like myself who were in search of purpose and “tribe.”  These women reconnected me to my purpose and my passion.  They permitted me to see the benefits of sharing my gift of village building with them.  One of my friends needed a “tribe” and our chance encounter a couple of weeks ago gave us each a new friend and gave her a dozen new connections.  The woman and I met and became friend a couple of days ago in Oregon as we were both exploring new journeys of self.  A two hour shuttle ride and a conversation over coffee left her with new ideas for work-life moves and a connection to my friend who lived in her area who could increase her knowledge of the opportunities in her community when she returned from her journey.

I implore you to use your passion to purposefully help others.  There’s enough stuff to go around and enough gifts to share. Spend your time and energy building bridges and connecting people to cool ideas or to other cool people or both.  Then you should celebrate the new life you created in them and enhanced village you both call home.  You might be surprised that when you give for the sake of village you will be blessed beyond measure.

Silence: Friend or Foe

Silence abruptly interrupted the noise.

Silence startled my chaotic system that normalized the noise.

Silence force me to dismiss the comfort of the external vibrato and the reverberating sound within.

Silence rested at zero on the decibel meter, then locked the dial at quiet.

Silence demanded my attention.

Silence was a forced and pregnant pause.

Silence became the aroma of a flavorful sauce that intentionally filled the room.

Silence offered time and opportunity to recover and reflect.

Silence tricked me by substituting healing with the courtship of a hypocritical tease.

For years, I had a love-hate relationship with silence.  I sought out quiet time in order to find a place to relax and escape from the crazy and the busy of my crazy-busy life.  My crazy-busy life used a chorus of screams inside of me to awaken my nerve endings and make my heart race.  Oddly, the emotions and physiological responses triggered by chaos and crazy resulted in cravings of more chaos and crazy.  Before my personal experience, I would have believed that my body would have activated a shut off valve to seal off the access to my brain and my central nervous system.  Although my beliefs generated thoughts of an involuntary bodily function to protect me from the noise, I learned that my personality type really wanted and needed to take charge of managing the external and internal commotion.

In my forced silence, I wondered how I came to be in a place so quiet.  In my silence, I sat a bit frustrated with everything and everyone who left me living with peace and quiet.  I had forgotten all of the things I said I would do “if I just had some free time.”  I forgot all of the times that I wished for peace and quiet.  I learned that frustration and my selective memory coupled with silence had power waste time on negative thoughts instead of using time wisely investing in enriching actions.  Ironically, I think I got stuck on the fact that I didn’t prescribe the quiet time myself.

Silence turned out to be an awesome time for me to develop my creative ideas.  Silence also proved valuable in my professional life.  I spent time studying and evaluating my strategic plans for my department and how those plans align with stated goals of my staff and campus partners.  As much as I resisted the introduction of silence into my day, I have warmed up to the essence of silence.  Once I welcomed the slowing of my crazy-busy life, I began to praise myself for intentional efforts to be still and quiet.  Meditation has allowed me to practice breathing in calm and releasing the chaos.  In the silence, I meditate on ways to bridge gaps between my department and others.  I thought of ways to better support my staff.  I meditated on the challenges in my department.  I thought of ways to incorporate the training and theory about higher education into the fabric of the department.  Silence contributed to the betterment  of my personal life and my professional relationships.

Often the most challenging place for an extrovert like myself is sitting in silence.  My personality naturally drives me to share ideas, connect people with common interests, and use any resources I have to improve the condition of the people and the environment around me.  Last week while sitting in silence, I struggled.  I struggled with the realization that I had no external distractions to excuse me from facing real and tangible issues.  I struggled because I had no diversion from dealing with my personal and professional stuff.  Finally, I shifted my attitude and my attention.  I did some writing and editing of my leadership journal.  During the silence, I incorporated the calming breathes that I learned through meditation.  In the silence, I processed of a couple of work related situations that .  I decided to use the time in silence to read text that would enhance my professional career.  Then, I incorporated the lessons learned into situations with campus partners.  I had time to evaluate my decisions and process in a couple of fact situations.  The silence gave me time to calm my nerves and settle my thoughts.  I was able to find ways that I could mitigate the collateral damage that happens when there are disagreements on process and protocol between the departments.  I meditated on the situations until I found things I could have done to make the situations better and I considered how I would breach sensitive subjects with my coworkers.  Silence definitely shocks my system when I am relegated to listening to the silence.  However, when I embrace the opportunities for development of action, relationships, career, and places, silence was my dear friend.