Hey Ma, “I’m still learning.”

I woke up this morning with a need to write. Later in the day, a text message conversation with my son helped me understand my drive to write about this topic. When I took out my journal, I thought about my children and their journeys to adulthood. I was reminded of discussions with people of faith about life coming in seasons. Within those seasons, I was told we learn lessons and connect with people designed to help us live the good life.

This morning I reflected on a time when my daughter was about four years old and my son was about seven or eight months old. She pulled him around the house in his carrier. She read to him and towed him to the television to watch her favorite shows then to watch her play make believe with dolls or teddy bears. She taught him and he loved being her student. I loved watching them. I enjoyed that season of my life with them.

Then, they grew up. They matured beyond the middle school dramas that played out in my kid cab every day. As I wrote, I have found myself thinking of their journeys from toddlers through adolescent transformation to adulthood in my daily work with college students trying to figure out their daily grind and their next moves. Like my own children, they progressively seemed to be learning lessons that are only taught by living. I have looked at students and wondered if life was less complicated for them as children like that season when my daughter pulled a giggling infant around in a carrier. I have wondered if the young people around me had complicated childhoods that established the rocky foundations I watched them struggling to navigate.

It has been my honor to have so many students trust me with their stories. Through the process of raising my children I learned to listen, watch, advise, and encourage. I learned that I do not get to make decisions for them or act as their surrogate in journeys that each of them must walk to make it to their next. I hoped that their choices would meet their definitions of success. I listened to them as intently as I listened to my own children. I acknowledged their strengths and the courage it took for them to seek help from me (or anyone else for that matter).

Whether I am parenting or educating students, the process of supporting students begins with listening. I must listen in order to help them sort out the issues presented then guide them to a plan of action that prioritizes their challenges. I also remind them to refrain from harsh judgment the corrodes their self-image or makes them insecure about decision making. I ask them to just do the best they can with the facts know to them at the time. My daddy once said to me, in essence, to be fine with myself if I knew that I did all that I could do to make the best of the situation confronting me. He also told me, “to just do the best that I can.” Those words were affirming in my youth, but in my adult life I have benefited from the seeds of validation and empowerment planted by my father’s words. Finally, I caution young people to be flexible with themselves throughout this season and those to come.

Life has taught me that change happens. Perfection is never the goal when we are doing life. I have also learned that change requires flexibility. Flexibility can allow us to make adjustments without debilitating resistance. We might be able travel to places we never dreamed of in prior seasons. The pliable approach to living gifts us potential to have our passions and purpose fed. We might just do something more awesome than we ever imagined in a place that rewards us for the hard work and struggle it took to prepare us for the moment. I challenge you not to be limited by your fear, your frustration, your confusion, or your season. Respect the season and use the character of each season to build self-awareness, confidence, strength, wisdom, and resilience until the season changes.

That Seat at the Table

There’s much talk about having a seat at the table in corporate America and in higher education. I have learned that some want that seat because they have a desire to serve a broader range of constituents. Those people have a vision of collaboration that influences cultural norms and policies that improve the environment and holistic wellbeing of all invested members of the organization or institution. Others pursue that seat in an effort to control the community dialogue with the objective of a directional shift of the narrative sharply on a new course. Finally, I have encountered that seat chaser who just revels in the sense of accomplishment and perceived power that comes with rising to a higher step on the proverbial ladder.

Regardless of the motive or the journey to that seat, some things become your reality when you take ownership of that seat:

There is an expectation that you will find a way to work within the current policies to accomplish the mission and vision of the organization.
The team will be more productive when you willingly contribute to skill sets that compliment the whole and donate information you learned through prior training or life experiences in pursuit of the mission, values, and goals of the group.
Bring a spirit of servitude that enables you to equally be comfortable taking direction from others and taking ownership of your role as leader, when needed.
Stay thirsty for development and hungry for knowledge. In your wisdom, you will find strength to operate with a sense of urgency to get the team closer to the fulfillment of at least one goal.
Flexibility is key when you sit in “that seat.” Stay up on your neck stretches so that you can move your head back and forth as if to say, “Oh, I see. What an interesting concept.” On the other hand, make your eyes and eyebrows less mobile at the table. Eye rolling and involuntary raising of eyebrows may prohibit you from obtaining intel that may be valuable in your work. The same is true for too much jaw flapping. You will need to exercise your mental capacity and heart string in order to hear the potential harnessed within the words spoken by those with differing viewpoints who sit at the table. You will need controlled pliability to gauge when there are irreconcilable difference and when those difference of belief or interpretation can be reconciled in a manner that respects the integrity of the shared philosophy.

In the last six months, I learned that seat I sought at a leadership table. Every week, I have moments that consume me with gratitude. There are other moments that use my shoulders as the foundation for a wall of sandbags being dropped one at a time in anticipation of rushing flood waters. This week the price paid for sitting in that seat was an expenditure of mental energy as well as human and other capital. That seat has been life altering for me, personally and professionally, teaching me to take breaks from the table. This week I learned that when you do too much sitting it can result in tight hamstrings and foot cramps. Therefore, when you earn that seat at the table, don’t forget to stretch!

Christmas Traditions

I have tried for at least three days to complete this blog post. When I realized I would not get it done Saturday, I resigned myself to being alright with spending Sunday morning with my pen to paper. That didn’t happy either and I became pretty aggravated. Before feeling like a complete failure, I thought about why I missed the proverbial mark over the weekend. This weekend, like a number of weekends in recent months, tested my ability to be flexible, to become comfortable with discomfort, to be more aware of the sheer exhaustion of life learning, and to embrace change.

My adult life never mirrored the lives of the villagers who raised me. My village was filled with people who grew up within thirty miles of their homes and who for the most part worked the same jobs for thirty or more years. I moved away from the village in my early twenties and never returned for more than short visits. As a result, one would think that I grew up comfortable with change. The truth was I learned to accept some changes like moving from one city to another. I think that I only got somewhat comfortable because my foundation remained fixed. In my opinion, God placed more dependent variables in my life than controlled variables. Every time I thought I knew what I was supposed to learn I felt like God changed the hypothesis then started a new experiment.

This week the frustrating narrative of the failed lab experiment entered my mind. However, this time I flipped the interpretation of the data because I could not and would not give energy to negativity this holiday season. I understood that even though I reluctantly made changes to my writing schedule and some of my Christmas traditions, my foundation remained intact. I still held on to the fundamental values and practices established by the village. Thankfully, the reminder that Christmas traditions were less about Mama’s lanterns lining the walkway and her multicolored spinning wheel at the base of the tree and more about the warmth she created through the season of joy and giving. Christmas was not about cooking the same dishes every year, but more about the memories created through the process from planning to plating. Christmas was not about the gifts under the tree as much as it was about the time we spent window shopping and laughing.

On the other hand, Christmas has always been about the wrapping of things I believed could generate smiles, ooh’s, and ah’s. Wrapping gifts has always been an experience for me. I loved selecting the paper that fit the personalities or interests of each family member. I held the title of chief gift wrapper and Santa’s most reliable helper. Since I was old enough to independently use scissors and fold a crisp edge with the wrapping paper, my family has counted on me to add to the holiday cheer with well-placed gift wrapped packages around the tree. I designated Christmas eve as the appropriate night to wrap gifts primarily because I could watch Christmas movies. By the time my children came along, there were Christmas movie marathons. My favorite was and is “A Christmas Story.”

I still don’t know why that movie tickles me so, but it does. Ralphie, the mouthy boy at the playground with his tongue stuck to the metal pole, and that bar of soap his mother believed would wash away profanity crack me up every time. I love watching the scene with the santa who treats the children like he missed lunch and his smoke break. This santa makes himself a nominee for the prize for least caring santa yet most practical santa when he says, “You’ll shoot your eye out, kid!” And then there’s the famous leg lamp that arrived in a huge, wooden crate with the word fragile on the side which the dad pronounced “far-gee-lay.” A couple of weeks ago I went to a friend’s house for an ugly sweater dinner gathering and there stood the leg lamp from “A Christmas Story.” In the process of accepting new holiday challenges, I found comfort in seeing a reminder of that feeling I get when I think about years of wrapping gifts for my family while watching one of my favorite Christmas movies. I laughed out loud and so did my friend. My friends didn’t know it, but they were helping me find the goodness in changes to my Christmas traditions that have come with the loss of my mother, my brother, and reality of my children being grown. I hope that if your family dynamic has changed or if you have had to start new traditions for the holidays that you have some reminders that it will be alright. I hope that you find quirky friends who laugh are as easily entertained by simple things as you are and that you can laugh out loud together.

“Just Keep Living!”

My daddy used to say, “Just keep living.” In general, he said that when something would happen to elicit a response of shock, surprise, or awe. As much as I have tried to plan the details of my life and script the next moves, life with determination and zeal brought unexpected events that altered the course of my life. It was interesting that as I reflected on unexpected life occurrences my mind immediately revisited the negative things. More specifically, I immediately considered the losses of people I love and separations from communities that fed me in some way. I wondered if I was the only one whose mind gravitated toward loss before reflecting on changes with positive implications or outcomes.

About six months ago, I expected to change positions at work. I knew that the new position would bring with it new demands on my time, a different tempo, and an expansion of my village building vision. As a result of the anticipated adjustments, I welcomed the transition period that included the coaching of my former supervisor. I quickly learned that not even the training period under the leadership of a seasoned, competent teacher could shield me from the shock of the unexpected things to come. This awesomely positive career move shook my normal into chaos and long work days. Some of the chaos was of the “drinking from the firehose” variety due to the nature of the work. Other aspects of the chaos came courtesy of my internal confusion and heightened excitement about the new opportunity. I often felt like the cartoonish Tasmanian devil spinning through spaces flinging the water from the firehose all around.

In a previous blog post entitled “Six Months” I considered “What will be different about me in six months” after I did not receive a job offer I thought I deserved. Once again, I have realized how much change was possible within me over a six months period. This time I learned that in six months there came a settling into the new space and the new feel created by the unexpected, shocking, awe-inspired life changes. What began six months ago with me adapting to jolts to my professional and personal spaces ended in me trying to decide what made me finally settle into the chaos. Part of me thought that maybe I settled because I got tired of feeling unsettled and confused. Another thought was that I settled because I grew accustomed to the new cadence. Finally, I rationalized that settling meant an ownership of the change and me embracing my capacity to manage my vision in the newly created spaces. Honestly, I am not sure if it was one of my theories or a combination of two or three that enabled me to “turn the corner” from maddening chaos to a more controlled version of chaotic normalcy. If you are like me, gaining some control in a chaotic moment equalled a victory.

I wondered if this feeling of accomplishment, the pleasure of overcoming the challenges, fit the definition of “letting the game come to you” or not. I thought of this like the moment there was a break in the terrible cold that made you forget what it was like to breathe freely until the break happened. Thankfully, intermittent breaks in chaos do present. During the breaks, I breathe without reminding myself to breathe. In life and in leadership, each challenge overcome becomes a step for the next challenge. For that reason, breathing is imperative because it opens the door for calm and clarity. Without fellowship with calmness and clarity, your grasp of control could be delayed. The small victories are blessing that gift the challenged logical thoughts, positive perceptions of confusing times, hopeful projections for future endeavors. As challenges arise in your life, be aware of the lessons you can learn about yourself and your mission while you endure the moments. Finally, be mindful of the temporal nature of the challenges and be sure that you have a six month goal set in anticipation of your successful navigation of the chaos.

The necessary struggle with technology

I have had a love-hate relationship with technology for many years. I have been frustrated by mandated updates, spam, and lost data. My frustrations have come as a result of slow working processing systems and human mishaps. I wondered why devices have not been able to withstand my family dropping phones on the ground, dropping phones in tea, washing them in the pockets of their dirty clothes, or “accidentally” taking them into the shower at the beach in Florida. All of the mishaps taught me about the business of insuring devices and the shady marketing of the “family” plans that marketed as budget savers. The provides of data and cell towers, in my opinion, took full advantage of all of us who struggle to live with devices, but can’t live without them. I never wanted to call them fraudulent or shady in their pricing, sales pitches, and advertising, but I don ‘t know how else to describe the deception that reveals itself in my billing statement and shifts in interpretation of the fine print when I call customer service.

While I have struggled with technology, there are a number of reasons the privilege of ownership and access have blessed my socks off:

FaceTime with my family makes the distance more tolerable. FaceTime, however, challenges me when someone calls and I’m driving or in between the bad hair moment and the better hair day.
Using my devices to engage with folks through social media is a blessing and a curse. Receiving updates and entertainment related to people and topics that interest me is a blessing. The addiction to the handheld devices brings pressure to check emails and look for notifications or alerts.
Balancing my emotional regulator and my time were not problems for me when there were not cell phones, internet, electronic games, social media, or emails. I had to follow some fun accounts in order to feed myself laughter and endorphins more than I feed myself the weight of publications associated with news or work related topics.
With Christmas fast approaching, online shopping has been a saving grace for me. I like shop therapy and windows shopping. However, stores crowded with “happy” shoppers does not appeal to me. Holiday shoppers often forget that it is the season to be jolly, merry, and gracious so I prefer the look at the smiling stock photos of people and just imagine the lovely thoughts bouncing around in their heads.
This week a family member who is less technologically savvy than I am lost a cell phone. I guess where it might be, but a return visit to the location yielded nothing. At work I learned about how to add a notification with my telephone number to the lost phone in the event that an honest person found it and wanted to return it to the owner. I had not been successful the day prior, but I tried again last night. Bright and early my phone rang and it was a lady asking if I lost a phone. Through the brief conversation we learned that we had a mutual friend. The nice lady worked all day to get the phone returned. Now, the phone is back with the owner and I feel grateful that I didn’t let my negative thoughts about technology prevent me from using an app and the cloud to connect a loved one to the gadget keeps a great deal of their business.

This week I used my phone to promote an event at work that I hoped would help me connect the students on my campus to resources. I couldn’t imagine doing life without my cell phone. I knew my family member felt that way too. I also knew that if I didn’t help find that phone I would be helping to buy a newer more expensive one. As much as I hate to admit it, the thought of new cell phones are dancing in my head like the “sugar plums” in “Twas the night before Christmas.” My hope is that all of us find a way to balance dependency on electronic devices with other priorities in our lives.

Winning and Losing

Winning and losing means so many things to so many people. The terms winning and losing go beyond competitive games. I use the word “winning” to acknowledge or affirm actions or a set of circumstances that result in favorable outcomes. In my opinion, winning always has a positive connotation for the winner. Winners tend to want more wins. Winners often expect to have more wins. Winning can be contagious and infectious.

After spending most of my adult life as a coach’s wife, I think a lot about winning and losing from Halloween to New Year’s Day. I sit and watch players, teams, and coaches stuggle with the reality that the measure of their success is reduced to winning and losing. This truth in sports translates well to life outside of that bubble. Often we spend time trying to meet the standard of winning set by people who often have nothing invested in our work, our project, or our lives.

Winning means bragging rights for teams and their fans. Winning can also mean increased or stable ticket and T-shirt sales. On the contrary, losing means disappointment for the competitors that is compounded by the pressure of frustrating and disappointing people with financial or emotional investments in the competition. In life we have a similar challenge in getting distracted by ancillary things. Sometimes those other things that are not connected to our missions make us forget why we even did the thing at all. In the midst of winning or losing, we can get consumed in the emotion of the moment and miss valuable lessons.

In winning, we should learn humility, gratitude, and the blessing of building muscle memory for success. In losing, we waddle in pity, anger, guilt, or regret, and forget the blessing of the opportunity for resiliency, shared experiences that build camaraderie, and a chance for introspection and reflection. It is challenging in loss to believe that you are still winning. Similary, it is often difficult in winning to display humility or to embrace the cliche that “You can’t win them all.”

Today, I watched someone who I care about process out loud this very battle. I was honored to be granted permission to witness this developmental moment. The moment itself signaled maturity and passion for the overarching potential of sports to teach some of the lesson previously mentioned. Ultimately, whether we are in the context of a competitive game or in the game of life, there is something that we must remember: Be aware that we are winning every day that we receive the gift to have life because that gift affords us the capacity to learn from the wins and loses.

I hope that if you are feeling like you’ve lost or failed that you will find the guidance that lies within that experience. I often tell students about how I failed physics in college then took it again and made a D. I didn’t learn that I was a failure. I learned that I wouldn’t be a physicist or an electrical engineer. Thank goodness for everyone that I am not building brake systems or bridges. I found my path thankfully because of those detours. Those experiences also provide understanding and a point of reference for students who struggle with changing their major, or life not going just as they planned, or feeling like they will fail at everything because they receive a failing mark in one class. Your experiences are designed to teach you and hopefully you won’t focus on the disappointment too long and miss the chance to pay forward the lesson that can help someone else feel like they are winning at life.

Being perfectly abnormal is normal

“I love to be around people who retain a sense of childlike quality,” said Bryan Cranston when he appeared on the CBS Sunday Morning Show. His statement normalized my need to embrace laughter and opportunities to break from the heaviness of life to engage in a joke or a giggle. Past experiences that made me feel abnormal or weird for choosing not to take life so seriously all of the time took center stage in my mind. I began to rethink the what it meant to be “normal” since I have spent much of my life feeling something other than “normal.”

Often I speak about feeling like I have lived much of my life as a square being forced into a round hole. In my youth, I didn’t see how many people probably felt like me. As I grew older, I learned that life can truly resemble The Game of “Perfection.” Folks scramble around trying to fit into one space or another listening to the loud clicks as the clock winds down. There is no time for distraction in the game of perfection, but in life we tend to forget that we have only one lifetime to accomplish the mission for which we were placed on the earth. The tick tock of the clock fades into the background as we spend the time assessing and reasoning with ourselves to figure why we don’t fit into the “normal” crowd.

What did it mean when people said I didn’t “fit in” with their group? What was it that made me not “fit in” even when I seemed to be perfectly matched for the category description? Why did I regularly find myself a perfect outlier? How was it that those who excluded me spoke as if they knew me better than those I called friend? My friend circle has always been relatively small which made the fact that most of the comments about me came from people with whom I spent little time. In the last few years, I also noticed that people who seek to exclude me had difficulty accepting their exclusionary practices. Rather than own their decisions they justified their actions to recruit support from others by saying things like, “She’s not as polished as us,” “She talks too much,” “She’s too loud,” “She doesn’t know her place,” or “She’s too silly.” Comments like these taught me to work hard at blending into the fixtures or fading into the dark space behind my tinted lenses. Ironically, my efforts were not met with any acknowledgment of behavioral changes, but rather with more judgement. I heard new descriptive words and phrases like “rude,” “standoffish” (if that is even a word) and “an angry black woman.” I shook my head a lot and probably rolled my eyes too as I came to realize that much of my outlier experiences had little to do with me not being “normal,” but more about me literally not having the capacity to live my life painting inside of the lines with the same palette every moment of my life.

I traveled many figurative miles before I realized that human boundaries kept me in a cyclical path that could never fuel my spirit or encourage my soul. Instead of engaging in spirited, passionate work of a visionary, we get distracted trying to figure out why other people do the things they do. I reflected on something I have heard coaches say during interviews: “We should be competitive in this game” or “On paper, we should win this game.” The disclaimer, “on paper,” considered the intangible qualities that created the identities of the teams preparing for the competition. Humans forget about the intangible qualities that make us uniquely who we are equipped for particular missions in a lifetime. Because they forget, they design spaces to share with their perfectly shaped peers. Their circle owns the same neutral color palette representative of their monotonous, structured lives. It took a while for me to realize that some association with people who painted inside the lines was necessary for me, but that life could never be my “normal.” I have color palettes in my head with offering a plethora of color choices in my head. Mentally, I am constantly dancing outside the lines painting with a wide brush. I’m not judging folks whose brains don’t operate like mine. Somebody should paint the space inside the lines, but that somebody probably won’t ever be me.

When Bryan Cranston appeared on the CBS Sunday Morning Show, I replayed part of his interview several times in order to document his words so that I could use them to inspire me and others later. He reminded me that many of the reasons for my exclusion from the circle dweller clubs made me perfectly suited for life outside the lines engaging with people who thrive on new, spontaneous, vibrantly colored conversations and collaborations. Bryan Cranston said he enjoyed being around people who were “still holding on to the sweetness, the sense of wonder.” He told the reporter that he “love[d] being around people who retain a sense of childlike qualities” because “it’s refreshing.”

I love the work I do because I interact with young people daily who dance outside the lines with brilliance when given permission to do so. I love to watch their eyes the minute that they realize they have permission to live the “normal” life they were called to live. The energy generated by a community of innovators and thinkers welcomes the diversity of people, thoughts, gifts, and talents intended to bless all of us when we don’t block the blessings.

I hope that this post will encourage the serious minded, structured folks to consider the value of having someone in their inner circle who embraces the silliness and wonder of a child. Here are some reasons that I keep a couple of childlike friends in my circle:

When children experience wonder or laughter, their positivity is contagious
I’ve heard that I there are few wrinkles when I smile as opposed to when I frown. Why would I ever want more wrinkles?
I learned from gyrokinesis that a deep laugh can push out stale air and make room for more oxygenated air.
Laughter helps me relieve stress.
Laughter brings my happy hormones (endorphins) to the surface.

“The Monster That Ate My Socks” by A.J. Cosmo

I had every intention of writing something funny and spirited this week. Then, something happened that caused a distraction. Funny how one thing can spiral into many things and get in the way of the one good thing you planned for the day. I almost missed the opportunity to trigger my happy hormones focusing on something I had no ability to fix. I am so glad that I dodged some darts loaded with negativity. I had to duck and weave in order to get back to my original plan.

This children’s book reminded me of the times I folded clothes and came up a few socks short. I always put the socks in a pile so that I could roll paired socks together. Sometimes the missing socks would be found behind the washer or dryer and other times I would figure out that I left the missing socks in the laundry basket with other dirty clothes. There was a belief that the dryer ate the socks. I believed that theory until a washer and dryer repairman told me that the washer actually eats the socks. He said it was very likely that the socks were so lightweight that during the rinse cycle the water carried the socks out of the tub, through the hose, and into the great unknown.

I found this book by A.J. Cosmo online. I decided to read it because of my prior curiosities about missing socks. I also thought about the socks with holes in them. I never figured out how one sock in the pair has a noticeable hole and the other showed no sign of wear. Just this week, I put on a nice pair of socks, started putting on my shoes when I n noticed a large hole in the heel of my left sock. The mom in “The Monster That Ate My Socks” often expressed her frustration with the missing dirty socks. Unlike my circumstance, her son’s dirty socks weren’t even making it to the washing machine. Like me, she was aggravated with the money spent buying new socks. Her son grew frustrated too because he was tired of his mother accusing him of being irresponsible. He devised a plan to solve the mystery of the missing socks. He hadn’t told his mother, but he also had reason to believe that something might be eating his dirty socks.

One night after leaving socks in plain view he pretended to fall asleep. As he laid there in the darkness waiting for something to happen, a green monster with three eyes came into his room. I loved that the illustrations of the monster depicted him as a kind, gentle, friendly being. It was not hard to imagine that a child could enjoy this book without experiencing fear or nightmares. It turned out that the monster was responsible for the missing socks and the holes in the socks. However, the boy enlisted the assistance of a friend to delve deeper into the mysterious behaviors of the monster.

The boy and his friend learned that the monster had a family. The family needed sustenance in the form of dirty socks. The tale of the dirty socks joined human boys with monsters from some world beyond in the mission to secure dirty socks for the family of monsters. As one might imagine, the supply of dirty socks ran out and the monsters had to find another food source. The food source turned out to be the boys homework which made me chuckle. The boy could honestly tell his teachers that the monster ate his homework. While that explanation sounded pretty similar to the dog eating the homework, it was not as believable.

In my opinion, this book would be a good purchase for a child under the age of eight or nine. It has a sweetness about it that encourages inclusion of life different than the norm. The book also introduces opportunities for adults to discuss chores and taking responsibility for belongings. Finally, the characters in the book show the world that it is possible to support others who have needs even if you don’t completely understand their needs or their journeys.

What makes a “smart city” smart?

“If you forget about the people, you miss what it is to be smart,” said David Graham, the Deputy Chief Operating Office for the City of San Diego. I watched a story about San Diego becoming a model smart city. He has been instrumental in the vision and strategy of using technology to enhance the lives of all of the people who live in that city.

Mr. Graham spoke about his work with passion and purpose. He focused his comments on the positive work and goals. He met the negative with more affirming words for the momentum to make San Diego a smart city. He did not waiver in his commitment to improving his city. He defended his renewed his work while differentiating it from other technological powerhouses that profit greatly from data collected from consumers with or without the knowledge of the consumer or user. He noted that the aim of his work was not anchored in an expectation of personal gain, but in creating a more accessible city for everyone in San Diego.

As I watched the segment, I began to think about my work. I thought about how his words could apply to so many things unrelated to smart cities. More specifically I wondered, how fantastic it would be for everyone to use their abilities and opportunities in service for others. I think people forget that if they do anything that improves their environment it gets better for them too. The converse was also true: If you stink up the place where you are, it stinks for you too. If both those statements are true (or can be true), why not make it better for everyone? I recalled telling my children that there are three types of people at any job: the one that just does what is required, the one who does less than is required, and the one who goes beyond the expectations for the job. I reminded them that they always got to choose how their performance would be categorized. In general, I made this statement when we ranked our customer service experiences. I knew that in the business world, satisfied customers returned or promoted the business to friends. Unhappy customers frequented the business less or avoided the business altogether. So, again I ask, “Why not just use your powers for good and make the place better for everyone?”

Mr. Graham’s steadfast commitment to improving the lives of others inspired me. I was inspired to rethink how my work can reach beyond the walls of my office to impact positively each person in the campus community. I have been the subject of a journalism strategies class on campus and I asked the students how their ideas to help me gain more exposure through social media would reach the ten percent of students who were not as engaged in the community as the top ten percent of engaged students. I wanted to know how I could be certain that my work was extending beyond the expected circle to find the students who believed they had no resources and no person on campus to hear their needs.

I appreciated Mr. Graham considering ways that technology would best serve the underserved constituents. His objectives to give to those constituents a safer community with access to sustainable resources. My virtual seat in the presence of this visionary offered a very real benefit for me. I weighed the self-reported data collected to inform campus programming and services against the times I felt hijacked by a data collection team. In my opinion, Mr. Graham was right that sharing my personal information felt better when I agreed to share information for the purpose of making my life better. He was also right that I was skeptical and more guarded after learning that my preferences and tendencies were tracked and appropriated for the benefit of a company or unrelated entity to gain wealth.

The challenge for each of us this week is to determine if we are using our abilities and capacity for betterment of a person or community outside of our immediate circles. If you find that your work or actions influence others, examine the methods you use to confirm that your work has the influence you believe it has on the community. If you use surveys or some other form of data collection, think deeply about whether anything in your operation changed because of the data. Ask yourself if anyone would agree with you that your work resulted in the betterment of the community. Ask yourself if you intended to make the community better for everyone or if that was happenstance.

Sometimes we work hard and forget that our work should be about other people we serve. When the segment featuring David Graham ended, I played it back a few times and took some notes. I like to believe that I always consider the students in my decision making. I always want to know if the data dictates a change in my actions to keep me from being stagnant and unproductive. Self-awareness about the resources in the community and your use of the same is imperative in coming anywhere close to the mindset of Mr. Graham. I know he was not talking about students or a college campus, but this principle of never forgetting the people we serve encompasses more than smart cities. I believe that our communities, our country, and the global community improve when we all relentlessly work to use our unique gifts and talents for the good of others.

More Reflections on Mental Wellness

Have you ever said something like,”If only I had known then what I know now.” I have said that more times than I can recall. The truth is that I might not have done things differently even if I had known the outcome. Sometimes I think that we believe that we can change the outcomes so that history doesn’t repeat itself. It might also be that we believe that even when the odds suggest one outcome we are capable of influencing the events in such a way that we produce a different outcome. In my reflections on my family’s experiences with mental illness, I realized that my experience has been that I have never had control over the mental wellness of another person. The only thing I ever really control is our response to circumstances and our preparation for potential situations.

I am reposting this post I wrote some time ago because people who are dealing with mental wellness challenges (as well as their families) still need affirmation and encouragement. I also want to speak to those who deny the existence of mental wellness challenges or who do not believe that medial treatment should be an option for management mental health issues. If you find yourself or someone you care about concerned about mental wellness issues, please refer them to a health care professional for evaluation or counseling. Please avoid shaming, minimizing their symptoms or concerns, and encouraging them to skip medication doses. Accept that “we all have something” as my mom used to say. Your something may required medication to regulate your blood pressure, your pain, or your migraines. Don’t be responsible for aiding your friend, a loved one, or yourself in neglecting mental health wellness because you don’t completely understand it or because you are embarrassed because other people don’t understand it.

If I had known then what I know now, I would have journaled regularly and found a way to process all of this information sooner. I hope that you will have at least one positive takeaway from my experiences and use that takeaway to improve the health of another person who is struggling.

Be well.

Things I wish we had known when mental illness found us – Part 2