Archive for January, 2010

#36) These moments … they don’t last forever

Thursday, January 21, 2010
posted by advanceAdmin 8:06 PM

In high school, my friends and I spent numerous hours, days and weeks being silly, having fun and engaging in other adolescent activities.  Then it came to a halt.  A few weeks prior to graduation, more specifically – when the school newspaper requested a list of the colleges that the seniors were going to attend.  It was at that moment, I realized that our time was coming to an end.

Jason, who was the genius of our group, had already been accepted and was eagerly planning on attending Morehouse in Atlanta.

John, the free-spirited charmer of the group, had secured employment and was moving to Atlanta immediately following graduation.

Chris, the extrovert of the group, was also going to Atlanta to attend Morris Brown College.

In some ways, I suppose that each of my friends were indeed an extension of some part of my personality.  We shared a bond and a kinship beyond measure even adopting our own moniker, which is too humorous to share beyond the initials, ATM.

But for all of our camaraderie, there existed inside me a drive, a willingness and nearly a compulsion to do something different.  I choose to go to Hampton - a place I had never visited, a school of which I couldn’t identify the school colors, a place that personified the unknown.

Well, as our spring antics and clowning moments began to give way to June – things weren’t so funny anymore.  John received an extraordinary gift that unleashed an intense jealousy in Chris, one that tore apart our conviviality.  But moreover it brought to the forefront that our comfort zone of fraternity would have to be broken in order for each of us to grow as young men.

That bond, those moments, those dear good times are gone forever.  That doesn’t diminish their value nor does it preclude the end of our friendship.  What it does it teach a two-sided lesson:

1)  Live in each moment, enjoying it fully

2)  Understand that to enjoy the next moment, this one has to end

Every year that I taught kindergarten, I cried on the last day of school.  For the life of me, I just wasn’t cool enough to accept that when those little backpacks galloped out the door, they would never return.  Did I teach them enough?  How much would they forget over the summer?  Would they excel in first grade?  Those thoughts and many others flooded my emotions and I couldn’t hold it back.  Those last hugs, little five year old hands patting me on the back and colorful stick-figure pictures with backwards letters in my name – all of it was over.  My future wife gave up attempting to console me for the following week.

But you know what?

That next fall, the next group of smiling faces brought an unbridled joy.  Every new school year was the best year ever.  Every fall my spirits were rekindled and my happiness restored.  My wife-to-be grew bored of my incessant stories about each of my kids, she felt as if she knew them personally.

So now, at this moment in life where I’ve embarked on a new journey riding the waves of faith.  I think back at all those other good-bye moments and realize – my best times, my best class, my most heartfelt happiness is ahead of me.  And because of that – I sail on.

#35) Measure Twice, Cut Once

Thursday, January 7, 2010
posted by advanceAdmin 8:03 PM

I have recently returned to my alma mater as an administrator and professor.  On the first day of staff introductions, I was reacquainted with the former Dean of Students.  I thanked him for listening, for giving my situation full consideration and having a heart of empathy.  For you see, the code of conduct explicitly states that fighting is prohibited and at that time when I was full of immature bravado, Dean Smith had more than enough justification to expel me.

Instead he chose to listen to all the circumstances, factor my immaturity and consider my potential.  He chose to keep me as a probationary student.  Had he chosen otherwise, we definitely would not have had our encounter this week.

My father is an electrician.  Instead of giving me money, he made me earned it.  I carried tools, installed a few light switches, held the ladders he climbed, swept up sawdust, got jerked around for holding drills improperly and held the flashlight while he worked after twilight.  On one occasion, we were installing an outdoor lamp that was to be attached to a house.  I had worked enough with my dad to earn his trust in bending and cutting pipe.  Only eight feet of those ten-foot metal pipes were necessary to house the wiring for the light.  My father with his penchant for uniqueness preferred two 45-degree bends as opposed to one 90-degree bend.  Since he approaches his work like a craft, the precision of those 45-degree bends were a testimony to his skill and diligence.  He entrusted me to carry out his signature bends and cut the pipe with the same assiduousness that he would.  He said, “before you bend and cut that pipe, you better measure it twice to be sure the markings are right so we only have to bend and cut it once.”

He used this simple directive to masquerade a profound life-lesson – measure twice, cut once.

Regarding that pipe, I half-heartedly measured and commenced to produce unevenly distributed bends on a pipe cut too short.  My dad docked my pay – the nicest part of learning that lesson.  The disappointment on his face, the haphazard handling of his craft and the casual disregard for his directive all manifest itself in a midget-crook-in-the-neck pipe that we couldn’t use.  Because when dealing with something essential, before making a choice that will alter its form, we should measure twice and cut once.

When administrators are overburdened with disciplinary issues, it’s easy to “suspend them all”, and in our fatigue, our frustration, and impatience we will make midget-crook-in-the-neck pipes of some of our students.  Indeed, rules serve their purpose but for the child who would rather fight back than be bullied – we should measure their situation twice before dispensing discipline once.  For every student kicked out of class for daring to stand-up to tyrannical teacher – we should measure twice, cut once.  For every apparently combative parent that interrupts our day – measure twice, cut once.  For every choice you make that impacts the life of another – measure twice, cut once.

Dean Smith chose to measure twice.  When he accurately made the one cut slicing off my immaturity, he in fact contributed to building a future colleague.