RIDING AS A DEADHEAD ON A LINKED PASSENGER TRIP

This post’s topic has been scrambling ideas for some time, but has overwhelmingly flooded my brain for months since the announcement of a merger with the YMCA of Greater Miami. As preparations for the changes a merger brings, the inevitable changes in staffing structures, direction about to happen once again for both associations and the fear of the unknown future, this month’s post could not be any more appropriate. However, for me, it’s like déjà vu of past years.

I want to begin with the views expressed in this post reflect my opinions and not necessarily reflect the research and efforts of by Jim Collins and his book “Good to Great”. There was a period of three years or so where the book “Good to Great” was the guiding principle in how the organization was to strategically operate during the next administration’s era. Over the next few years readings, discussions and team projects related to this book were held. The executive leadership team kept drilling the mantra from the book as if it a was the reprise of a hymn being sung in church,

“leaders of companies that go from good to great start not with ‘where’ but with ‘who.’ They start by getting the right people on the bus, the wrong people off the bus, and the right people in the right seats.” 

Reflecting back, I will analogize the “bus seat” theory as staff boarded the bus in the fall of 2000. With both YMCA Chief Executive Officers leaving their respective YMCAs around the same time, the YMCA of the USA facilitated in securing a retired executive to be the Interim Chief Executive Officer for both organizations with the ultimate goal of reuniting the two YMCAs in Broward County. Somewhere in the 1970s the YMCA of Broward County separated into two separate YMCA organizations and now ultimately in June 2001, one stronger YMCA serving the Broward County community resurfaced. There was to be a community-wide announcement and celebration of the reunification of one YMCA in Broward County. However, the seamless merger was just as transparent for most of the community as well. The due diligence took just over six months and unraveled in such a expeditious manner in which both organizations faced very few casualties but offered learning opportunities to function as one organization, with one leader, one strategic plan and one road to travel. Fortunately, historically staff of both YMCAs have collaborated on trainings, programming and leadership development and extended to including the other YMCA in grant funding applications and participating in countywide events.

When I boarded the bus in 2000, my title was Special Projects Director and encompassed a variety of responsibilities from grant writing and administration, IT and website development, child care training and several other minor responsibilities in human resources, payroll and fundraising. I managed to create myself a very diverse portfolio of different positions I excitedly attained and managed to acquire new knowledge and skills through sanctioned trainings, college coursework and even being mentored by Y-USAs best in various disciplines. I felt I was one of the right people in the right seat of the bus prior to the merger. As time progressed post merger, managed to be “silo”ed into only working with grant writing and administration. 

For those not familiar with current office jargon, “silo”ed is the term used by the high level executives to move individuals with myriad responsibilities and forces a system, process or department, etc. to operate in isolation from others. This redirection of my responsibilities had left a void within me as I felt I was being underutilized and ultimately undervalued as most of my responsibilities were farmed to other current and employees entirely new to the YMCA movement. Prior to being “silo”ed, I managed to elevate myself to a higher level where my knowledge, skills and abilities were I leveraged significant input and contributed on a myriad of committees, task forces and even served on non-YMCA committees. An unexplained emptiness is what I felt as I saw my talents and knowledge being used to a lesser degree with all the changes happening as our association continue to grow.

As the bus pulls into the first stop out of the depot, passengers begin boarding, some have their exact change, others have a transfer and others have a free pass to ride. My view as a passenger is somewhat obstructed, but nevertheless, I still can see whose boarding and exiting at each bus stop.

Here’s what I see.

Those boarding with exact change are the ones who’ve been here and will continue to be here. Despite leadership and organizational change, they are the pillars and foundations of the organization. They remain the loyal ones who aren’t necessarily the ones who “wow” but are the ones who day after day keep the organization going by consistently performing and most do not jump seats at each stop for the next promotion. I happened to have the exact change and proceed to the back of the bus and take a seat, as I don’t plan to get off anytime soon. It also gives me a fairly good vantage of those boarding and disembarking the bus.   

I’ve seen countless transfers boarding, not quite regularly as I’d expect, but do happen to have a handful at the busier stops. Many of those bearing transfers have come on board armed with a myriad of stories of how great their many previous journeys were and subliminally anticipating to make this one another feather in their cap of accomplishments. Along the way, leaving some personal effects of their journey in the seats to be picked up by the next passengers occupying the seat. Seeing the patterns, I know very well those pieces picked up were left there intentionally for the new ones taking the seat will take ownership of what was left behind. As these transfer passengers disembark somewhere between boarding and their final destination, they part with their newly found item and leave only trash on the bus with hopes someone else finds their treasure in what they intentionally left behind only to repeat this cycle again.

As we pull into a station, those with a free pass to ride begin boarding. They blend well into the remaining empty seats on the bus. With their flair and flamboyance, they board in dramatic fashion to somehow impress others already on board. Those riding for the duration or have exact change have seen this and are totally no impressed or gawk in shock at their gait as they board. Others are still stirred and express an uncanny curiosity as to what they may bring with them on this journey.

The bus appears to always be full of passengers as it travels an undetermined route towards the nameless destination. More often than not, the journey to the destination is often overlooked for the anticipation of what to expect when arriving at this nameless destination. The flat tire, the overheated engine, the rude bus driver are all forgotten when the journey ends and nostalgic reflections and cherished memories are all that remain. Many disembark prior to arrival and others are still waiting to arrive, despite it all, the journey in itself can possess beauty in the people you will meet and chat with, the layovers and stops along the way and the photographs you took.

Looking out the window, I see vast pastures with many more barns and silos as the bus continues to travel further away from where I once boarded. The scenery changes ever so gradually, from urban to rural, however, most on the bus aren’t noticing the succession, as they’ve not been on the bus for the entire journey. 

Regardless whose driving the bus, the organization will prevail, and despite facing challenging roads ahead, I remain confident the journey is half the fun. Until the day arrives when I arrive my final destination, I will sit back in my seat, look out the window on occasion, chat with a few fellow travelers and listen to my iPod. 

For now, I’m going to put my headphones on and maybe close my eyes, but as I do, a song from my years of operating early childhood programs comes on. I silently sing along…and by now you all should have read and know, “Please Don’t Let Mr Robert Sing” and fully understand why I am silently singing along.

“The wheels on the bus go round and round
Round and round, round and round
The wheels on the bus go round and round
All through the town.”

While gazing out the window, I find a silo, fire engine red, towering the fields of wheat and corn we pass and declare metaphorically representative of my career with the YMCA. I continue to stand tall, looking weathered despite everything around me changing yet blend in perfectly with my environment. Ultimately, I can only hope when my journey comes to an end, I have left a lasting legacy in the seats to be picked up by the next passengers boarding.
_____
NOTE: The posts title RIDING AS A DEADHEAD ON A LINKED PASSENGER TRIP refers to a non revenue passenger trip from origin to destination on the transit system. Even if a passenger must make several transfers during a one way journey, the trip is counted as one linked trip on the system.

THE CREATOR AND THE CRADLE OF HUMANITY

Sun soaked, majestic mountains
bring tomorrow closer as
His spirit’s image rises
from the dew dried valleys of
green grasses and silver streams.

Clouds cleared, with winds whispering
of all opportunities
available to explore
tremendous gracious beauty
that carry troubles away.

Sun sparkled, beautifully bound
as if a tapestry were
woven in a varied hue
forever cast in the sky
dancing with the morning mist.

People prayed, with wonderful
cherished songs of the future
and sad hymns of memories
but gracefully all He did
was make His presence felt.

Silence screamed, but His grave voice
thundered laughter and sorrow
while I saw Him looking through
gorges engraved mountainside
and left me with inner peace.

1998-0605-0000

A PAIGE IN TIME AND LESSONS LEARNED

Have you ever woke up every hour on the hour thinking you have overslept? I am more than certain this has happened to all of us at one time or another. However, this has happened to me not just once this week, or twice, but all week. Today was the first day of my taking on the role of child care program director for one of our YMCA family centers. I was not too anxious as I have been already overseeing four school-age child care sites, so what is five more, plus one new one opening as of today. Most of the staff, I have gotten to know as when we had all staff meetings monthly. 

My only heartburn issue, I spent a whole great deal of time worrying about opening a new program location and not knowing what to expect. My guess, its not any different from opening day of summer camp or opening the school-age child care sites on the first day of school. It’s the learning of new faces, finding my way around a new location, new expectations from school administrators and the dynamics of a new community’s demographics to learn. My sleepless nights now have a reason, worrying about all what I just said and then add to it how do I grow the census, build the partnership with the school and get it staffed. Armed with myself and one group leader from another site, we took on the challenge of opening this site with only six children who registered for the first day of the new program. Being a neighborhood school, I never expected this program to gain much in census, but I certainly expected more than six to be enrolled on the first day. 

The day, as if it were yesterday, I remember it so clearly, it was just one of those rare cold, by south Florida standards, winter days where the morning starts off with you wearing a sweater or more and can’t wait to peel it off by mid-morning. I started off the day at the program site, hoping to meet-and-greet families and hand out information about our YMCA and the programs available to them at their school, school-age child care, holiday camps, fun day programs and summer camps as well as many programs offered at other locations as our family center was a mere storefront and not a full-fledged YMCA. I managed to hand out the majority of brochures but albeit most took the flyers without a second look or appeared too much in a hurry to stop and ask any questions. They all seemed determined and focused on task, too busy dropping off in the morning to hurrying off to work and in the afternoon were just as much of a hurry to get wherever they were heading next.

Wrapping up my information table, I left brochures in the school’s office and strolled to the cafetorium to get ready for the first day of the program. With my supplies in place, attendance sheet ready and everything in place, I anticipated the children entering the program at dismissal. As they arrived I found a perfect symmetry of three boys and three girls and just as diverse in ages and ethnicity but then there was a surprise in a small package waiting. I had three lower grades (preK, K and 1st) and three higher grades (2nd, 3rd and 4th). This definitely became a programming challenge – how do you entertain at such a level to keep the younger children entertained and the older children engaged? My group leader and I decided to keep to our original plan, start with snack and outdoor playground time to help them release the energy built up the entire school day.

We served cookies for snack and “bug juice” (our complimentary choice of words for the overly sweet, syrupy fruit punch). The children always seem to enjoy it more than then staff serving them. This was long before school-age child care programs had to meet the USFA (United States Food Administration) and local licensing requirements implemented nutritional standards for snacks. Once snack was finished, clean up and restrooms we were ready to engage in outdoor playground time. I tapped one of the girl’s shoulders to signify we were ready to go. This is where my surprise in a small package erupted, much like a volcano laying dormant for hundreds of years.

Paige exclaimed, violently, “Don’t touch me!” and screamed “No! No! No!” repeatedly as she ran around inside the cafetorium.

Within the blink of our eyes, she picked up a chair off the stage and began smashing the jalousie windows, one to three at a time. With each new crash of one to three glass panes at a time, I kept praying she wouldn’t hurt herself or anyone else. My group leader and the other children calmly, followed the schedule and went out to the playground. After what seemed like an hour, when in fact it could not have been no more than 15 minutes, Paige sat down on the floor and begin playing with her doll. As quick as this erupted it managed to self-deescalate just as quick. I just stood over her, in total amazement and shock, how in such a short time, this young girl created catastrophic damage to the cafetorium. At the same time, I was visibly stressed and frightened – from shaking to my eyes filled with tears and my shirt drenched in sweat from this entire ordeal.

Whether or not it was coincidence or her hearing the commotion going on, in walked the school principal. Not quite 5 feet tall, maybe one hundred pounds soaking wet, but nevertheless as intimidating as a principal can be. Her poise was determined, authoritative and confident. I already knew Lynne as I worked with her in a different capacity only a short time ago.

“What happened here?” Lynne questioned in slight surprise and remained calm.

As I stammered to get a few words out, “I really don’t know, but this was the end result.”

She looked at me, then walked over to Paige, “Can you tell me what happened?”

Paige rocked back and forth and as if pleading to take the Fifth Amendment. I slowly approached Lynne and Paige and began to explain what happened. After patiently listening to me, Lynne put her arm around me and gave me a much needed reassuring hug.

“Honey, you didn’t do anything wrong. Are you OK?” Lynne reassuringly asked.

“No.” I said somewhat timidly but definitive in my answer.

Lynne had informed me she would contact Paige’s mother to about the situation and have her come pick her up. She asked me to contact my supervisor to get hold of our insurance company and she would contact the school board’s risk management team. Lynne attended to Paige until she was picked up. With tears in her big brown eyes, Paige profusely apologized to me when her mother picked her up. After all the children were picked up my group leader, my executive director, Lynne and I all met to review the day’s events. 

Lynne complimented me and how calm and patient I remained throughout the day and how I truly remained professional despite the circumstance thrown to me on my first day as program director. She further articulated how my not showing any emotion and ensuring safety of the others was the only appropriate action to take and my trying to stop Paige would only make the situation far worse.

At this moment, I was first introduced to tactile defensive disorder which apparently is and can be part of the autism disorder spectrum. Unfortunately, Paige’s comes with the rare combination of violent behavior issues not just sensory issues. As we talked, the school board’s risk management team arrived to clean up the shattered glass pieces, remove remaining intact glass and board up the gaping holes left. Lynne mentioned how Paige managed to create other violent disruptions throughout the school day and required a one-on-one unique education aide to assist her. I mentioned how her condition was not listed anywhere on our registration forms – I showed under the statement, “Is there any medical condition, disability or concerns which may impact the participant’s ability to fully participate in the program” in which the mother responded “None.” Lynne mentioned how parents of children with disabilities often fall in the two different extremes, those in denial and those who want all the special accommodations afforded to them under the law and then some. She recommended Paige not be permitted into the program unless the mother was willing to hire her unique education aide to assist in the school-age child care program.

So my first day of opening this school-age child care program was far from what I expected and hoped but it was etched into a memory. It was not necessarily a good day, but good was found in the day. The familiar faces of Lynne, who had brought comfort and encouragement and my YMCA executive director’s calmness and leadership provided me stability of my decisions and reassurance of how I did the right thing. What could have been a far worse outcome in the situation proved to me no matter how bad your life is today, tomorrow will still arrive and each yesterday will be a lesson to make you stronger and better you.

As I continue my journey, it was definitely a Paige in time and lessons learned about not taking for granted all that we do when working with children, especially those with special needs. Reminding me the importance of human condition, as it still takes priority in all that I do even if it creates a glass shattering moment in time.

GROWING TODAY … RIPEN AND ROT TOMORROW

When I began my journey, I entered quietly and green. I walked off the school bus and walked gingerly with fear and held my breathe with anticipation towards the double glass doors that very first day. I entered with caution. The screaming phones ringing, front desk answering members questions, teens playing bumper pool and arcade games and people scurrying to get no where quick created it's own unique community. People chatting among themselves, others walking to their class and some just daydreaming into their imaginations.

"Welcome to your Greater Hollywood Family YMCA. "How can I help you?" barked the old man behind the desk as I wandered aimlessly yet towards the membership desk.

A few moments later, could have been longer, the old man came out from behind the desk, "Young man, can I help you?" with a little more authoritative pitch yet still in his own right cheerful.

"What, are you talking to me?" I said with my voice probably pitching high,like a boy’s voice transitioning to a young man.

"Pardon me, were you talking to me?" correcting my words, the old man corrected me and continued, "Show some respect for the language." "Yes, I'm talking to you." Extending a handshake, "Bill Claxton here, people call me Mr Bill."

In my timid voice responded, "I’m Robert Kovacs."

"If you want to be heard, speak up proudly son!" exclaimed the old man, Mr Bill and asked what brought me to the YMCA.

After giving Mr Bill an highly abbreviated, without much detail of what brought me in here was a teacher who felt it would be better for me to volunteer after school at the YMCA then hang out with my current clique of friends. Mr Bill proceeded to give me a tour of the facility though I knew it well from coming here twice a week in the evenings for karate class but I let him have him take center stage. On the way back, I was introduced and left with Steve the Youth Services Director who gave me the sixty second hurriedly interview and overview of what I can and cannot do with the children. I was already working as a bagboy at Publix, the local grocery store on Friday and Saturdays (another story – short, yet, another life) and wasn't really looking for another job. By the time Publix and I parted ways shortly after meeting with Steve, I was offered a job at the YMCA making more per hour and had ability to work five more hours a week and worked no nights and rarely on a Saturday! Life was good! My first day of employment was Monday, July 2, 1984 – wow! did I just say that – seems like only yesterday.

By the time I parted the Greater Hollywood Family YMCA, I have already achieved quite a few significant milestones of my nearly six year tenure which seemed like a lifetime for most my age. To achieve full time employee status was considered an achievement in itself for the YMCA was a small, cash strapped non profit relying heavily on part time employees and many program volunteers. When we opened the indoor pool in the mid 1980s, I became one of the first certified swim instructors and lifeguards. Prior to my departure, I also implemented a half day pre-school enrichment program and a Mom’s morning out and parent/child enrichment classes. I managed to become an interim executive director when there was no one else willing to step up or rather didn’t want the responsibility, I guess being young, naive and being one of a few full-time employees remaining, I held down the operations for about three very challenging months. I was fortunate to work with very passionate volunteer policy leaders who helped guide and mentor me. Much of these skills learned, helped me become well prepared for the many other roles I had over the years. Throughout my tenure at the Greater Hollywood Family YMCA, Mr Bill was at the time, one of my biggest cheerleaders and encouraged me to strive for the best I can be.

Little did I know, that my next job landed me at a brand new YMCA in Weston after a very brief stunt (one month) with a city program which clashed with my programming models I learned within the YMCA. My career with the YMCA of Broward County launched in February 1990 as the school-age child care coordinator and summer camp director. Prior to the merger of the YMCA of Broward County and the Greater Hollywood Family YMCA, I was probably looked as a traitor as I was able to play in both service areas of the YMCA and was respected by both associations for my contributions to both. I often went back to take a swim, catch up with Mr Bill and others and often collaborated with their child care department to have “Back to School” and “Ready for Summer Camp” trainings integrating both YMCA associations. 

Just as the 2006 summer programs were ready to launch, I was notified Mr Bill is set to “retire” and move back to Kansas City to live with his son. A celebration of his decades of volunteering was held at the YMCA he so loved. Elected officials, community leaders, past participants and YMCA employees and many others came out to celebrate Mr Bill. I took a few minutes to thank and honor Mr Bill for being the first face I saw twenty-two years earlier and was in awe how many were in attendance and personally wanted to take time to share their memories of how Mr Bill impacted their lives. As Mr Bill shared with me many years earlier, “As long as you’re green, you’re growing. As soon as you’re ripe, you start to rot.” In his 80s, I am sure Mr Bill still had a lot of green in him. But the time came to wish him well, like a well loved book loaned from a library, the YMCA returned Mr Bill to his family and those of us who were fortunate to know him, where blessed with cherished memories. I will always remember Mr Bill for not the first impression he placed on my soul that first day in 1984, but his legacy, love for our great organization and his ability to impart his wisdom on to me.

I may have never learned the rules of the game of basketball or took a liking to the sport, like Mr Bill, but the life skills of giving your all and giving back to the youth of your community were what became part of my character. The dividends of the countless youth who still recognize me when I go about living my life in the same community where I got my career start is priceless. I can only hope when I retire, I'll leave quietly as I came, with my own footprints of a road well traveled and hope I become yesterday's foundation for tomorrow's new leader, as the future is renewed yet for another generation and I can leave while still mostly green with maybe a shade of red on the side not always seen by others.

WHO I AM IN MY FIRST 30 YEARS AT THE Y

Robert is my given and first name,
William is my father’s gift to me, my middle name,
Kovacs, is my family name of Hungarian heritage and proud first generation American.

Quiet, Quintessential Role Model, Qualified Academically and Professionally,
Understanding of what a great cause driven organization I belong to.

Aquatics – Swim Instructor, Lifeguard
Business – Business Development Coordinator, Systems Director
Child Care – School-Age and Pre-School Director, Site Director, Group Leader
Day Camp – Day Camp Director, Counselor
Executive – Interim Executive Director
Fundraising – Fundraising Associate, Fundraising Database Manager
Grants – Grant Administrator, Contract Compliance Director, Grant Writer
Human Resources – Human Resources Assistant, Human Resources Coordinator
Information Technology– IT Manager
Now half way through the list, but not my career,

Japan (Osaka) – US Ambassador for Employee Exchange
Liaison – Community Partnerships and Events, School Board, Funders and with non-profit agencies
Membership – Membership Services Representative, Front Desk Attendant
Payroll – Payroll and Benefits Administrator, Program Director
Special Projects and Events –Special Projects Director
Teen Programs – Leaders and Youth In Government Clubs, 21st CCLC High School Director
Volunteer Boards and Committees and Volunteer Policy and Program Leaders and serving AYP Chapter 27 since 1995.
XORA – Forged strategic partnership with company to pilot product
YMCA of the USA – Certified Trainer. Senior Director, Organizational Leader

Opportunities present me blessings in my career as I
ZigZag a career ladder at the Y, let’s see where my next thirty years take me.

#BeCauseY

ITS ALL ABOUT MY CUP OF TEA

Well, its official, I’ve been employed by the YMCA of Broward County (including the remnants of an independent, Greater Hollywood Family YMCA which merged into the YMCA of Broward County in 2001) for thirty years as of July 1, 2014. I never felt the years sneak upon me, but its ironic how the staff continue to get younger. Members who were participants in my programs bring the next generation of members to enjoy our programs, as I seem to never age. Like the sand in my hour glass, the numbers never lie, time keeps on passing me by with no time to redo only to replay created memories. With each turn down a the hall in a facility, or a car ride past a landmark, or the smell of a distinct odor, a memory jogs my mind, "I remember when..." Sadly, many faces have moved on over the years and become only a foundation of what we are today, or worse for some, best to be forgotten. I am some oddity in surviving through more executive/administrative level turnovers than I care to admit. Each one coming on to stage in front of their board of directors, dancing and singing their tunes of how they will bring change, advancement and bring this organization to the next level of greatness. I do admit, some have left a profound effect for the better, or for some worse, again for some, best to be forgotten. Each leaves their legacy keeps surfacing in almost everything I do.

What is often forgotten is the countless faceless names are the foundations of the past, and helped us become what we are today. Let me count... 8 Chief Executive Officers, I think 10 Executive Directors, 5 Chief Financial Officers and countless professional program (regardless of titles and positions) and administrative staff. I along with maybe one other are the only persons left from the fast-paced growth and change period of the 1990s. The two of us knew how to go about and survive frugally and been fortunate to be blessed with a career, not just a job that mirrors much of the same values as our organization, we both grew up with caring, honesty, respect, responsibility and even faith. When I walked through the double doors of the Greater Hollywood Family YMCA for the very first time in 1984, I didn’t know what to expect and most definitely didn’t think I’d be still here 30 years later. It may appear my selfish posts are nothing but nostalgic memories of what were the good old days. But to the contrary, these memories I share with anyone reading, those with any affiliation with the YMCA movement at any point in their lives can catch themselves nodding in agreement. Those who were not fortunate to have a YMCA experience, can still find some comfort knowing this speaks to the human condition as much as my own career.

The YMCA has placed such a vital role in my formative youth and teen years and even my growth as a career staff member. Moving forward requires respect the past, possess humility and listen to stories of past generations yet have vision, pride and patience. Some of the executive leaders have come in and brought turbulent changes with them and cost credibility and years of regressive decisions and policies. Often they set back our growth and opportunities such as new partnerships, opening new centers, developing collaborations and taking fundraising to the next level. The pride of the next generation of leaders coming in often take two steps back to move ahead one rather than to take time and listen to stories of past generations. So much could be learned by taking time to listen to those who have managed to survive over the years. Its not that us “lifers” (those of us who have been through more than two leadership changes) are trying to negate what they are doing, but often have the knowledge and experience to tell some of the historical challenges faced and what caused a full stop or at best an obstacle to overcome before we forge ahead.

Those of who have survived change have plenty of stories to share and would help the next generation leaders understand why behaviors exhibited by the “lifers” is often one of frustration, confusion and angst. I’ll share both my pet peeves or frustrations center around income. It appears, here too, money becomes the proverbial root of evil as it does in marriage. Even though I understand the growth of our organization depends on the ability to successfully fundraise and to expand the number of donors exponentially annually, the way we often go about it makes me often feel as we are continually begging for dollars rather than sharing our amazing history and community impact stories. The completion of one campaign is barely done and here comes the new campaign with the hopes a chord of new donors come aboard and become committed to our cause driven organization.

Along the same lines, comes my perception of waste of hard earned dollars and executive leaders view as investing in the future. The days of scraping every last penny and finding ways to stretch it as far as possible. As a director of child care and summer camp, I spent countless hours at Toys R Us, Target and Walmart armed with coupons and midnight sales to stock up on 2-4-1s, 50% offs and other insane offers and then carry it back to our offices and sort it out and then deliver for each and every one of the fifteen program sites I operated. Current directors of child care go online order and have it delivered to their 4 or 5 program sites directly, never experiencing the excitement of playing errr… testing before buying, I certainly know there is something to be said about “wasting my time and dollars” by doing the shopping in person but with that came the joy of finding something unique for each program site as a “thank you” or “I was thinking of your program when I saw this”. Again, its my perception of waste as opposed to time saving, let’s agree to disagree on this, as I can go on the joy I had when I did my own in person shopping for my programs.

Confusion is often due to the lack of communication. Each new leader coming in decides to survey staff to get a temperature reading of staff. Over the years, communication by far becomes the mostly highly ranked negativity, as ineffective and the lack of, is staff continually grumble about. Those of us who managed to have survived more than a couple administration changes often continue to function in their positions and roles much the same way they have since the previous administration. The new administration, with all due respect don’t often think of the ripple effect, (you know like a stone thrown into still water) the consequences of every decision remains unknown. The impact of adequate communication to all parties effected would allow “lifers” to support the changes and help convey the message throughout the organization. The “lifers” are perceived by the new leaders as having nothing more to contribute, have no desire to grow professionally and are stuck in their ways and routines. This malicious perception often puts these “lifers” in their own silos and are often overlooked for opportunities for service, growth opportunities and promotions. If only communication existed on both sides, the perceptions can dissolve and differences can be better understood. So, until I am told otherwise, I too, am often finding myself doing things the way it was always done, though I am one who embraces and welcomes change more often than not.

Angst. I just couldn’t find the right word, but angst has a certain ring to it and carries a lot of weight in those five letters. The fear resonates through gossip ridden in the halls of who is coming, who is going and what will happen next is always on the fore mind of all staff. This creates unnecessary morale issues with vindictive staff who will do just about anything in the course of survival. The built up anxiety is ultimately a team killer not a team builder. My guess is Darwin’s Theories of Evolution migrated into the corporate world and continue to prove its validity in the twenty first century. I’ve just learned to just learned to listen with my eyes and hear with my ears and share selectively.
In the words of one of my past Chief Executive Officers I worked under, “Life is like an amusement park, when the merry-go-round stops being fun, there’s always time to get on the roller coaster.” As my mentor extraordinaire, she keeps her advice practical and filled with her whimsical sense of humor. I didn’t feel the full impact of this statement until after she had moved on from the YMCA and found herself reinventing herself to keep relevant while I remain loyal to the same organization. When I began my journey, I never anticipated to be still working for the same organization after high school, well, perhaps maybe through college but never in my wildest dreams did I think I would still be coming to the YMCA to work thirty years later.

From my first position as an after care tutor/junior counselor, working 10 to 15 hours a week and earning a charming $40.00 on average a week, or at that rate about $2000 annually to my current professional position, I continue to be challenged. For the good majority of my years, I’ve been blessed with supervisors who became not only my mentors but my biggest supporters and helped me advance my career. My advancement never took a traditional promotion and a higher salary but rather thrown opportunities which I embraced and accepted willingly. Promotions are often given often to the “Look at me! Look at me!” individuals who are always seeking affirmations and approvals from everyone around them. Whether its their actions metaphorically screaming or actually screaming with their voice it didn’t matter, as these individuals often got promotion with the salary increase. I like to think of my position as the CUP, the Chief Utility Player of the association as I’ve done just about anything end everything in our YMCA and jumped in feet first and let my survival extinct kick in.

I had always thought of myself to be like mold, hide me in a dark corner and I’ll be able to grow despite circumstances I’ve encountered. In most recent times, my calm demeanor, the one who doesn’t like to be the center of any attention, was criticized by those in higher positions as I am “just muddling through” and “have no motivation and ambition” or worse “I am checked out.” My side, is I would rather look at myself as an iceberg with much of it residing below the surface of the calm ocean. Look at what happened to the Titanic when it hit a rather “small” piece of ice.

The only thing I find consistent in my years, is change, each and every day bares its presence with a new challenge to overcome. I am reminded the sunrises each morning to remind us all of a new beginning, a fresh start in our journey to find ourselves. I’d invite you to sit and enjoy a cup of tea with me. I like my new brew to be robust, full of new flavors and learn to appreciate and enjoy the tea, with each sip. In return, I hope the tea I offer, allows each new generation of leadership flavors of comfort and filled with predictability and tradition. Despite all the leadership changes, staff turnover, program priorities, mission challenges and the economy, somehow the YMCA manages to survive and adapt. Reminding me, my thirty years has been like that of the roller coaster, filled with emotional highs and lows. This is a ride I've ridden and continue to be riding and wouldn’t have had my career any other way, as I too, have continually adapt to my ever changing self.

Let’s see what the next thirty years will bring…and I imagine there will always those wanting to bring change, some who embrace change and those who will always be the solid, steadfast leader who keeps their feet planted firmly in the ground and will share stories of past generations with anyone who cares to listen. Care to come over for a cup of tea and help me kick off the next thirty years?
 

GO AHEAD, YOU FIRST,... ONCE UPON A SUMMER...

Dear YMCA Camp Director,

I am trying really hard not to be emotional and ramble on, but please forgive me, as this is the first time my child will be left with anyone but family or school. I hope I made the right decision to send my child to camp, specifically YMCA camp, have you ever seen how many choices a parent must make when they send the child to camp?

I am not yet a parent of a child, but I can assure the families I serve, placing a child in my care, I, foremost worry of the safety of both my campers and my staff and then I try to ensure each has memorable experiences lasting a lifetime. With each passing year, this task never gets easier, rather its gets more challenging with new fads competing for my attention. I’ve seen it all from the Nintendo GameBoy to Apple iPod, all compete to steel your child’s attention from traditional camp activities.

Do I want sports camp, art camp, computer camp, gymnastics camp, trip camp or at least another million choices, but we (my child and I) picked YMCA camp as it looked to offer a variety of activities and field trips.

Excitement pours out of their hearts and emotions as today as the bell rings for dismissal on the last day of school for the school year, they’re now officially one grade higher, one year smarter and one year more challenging. They leave the four walls of security, comfort and knowing what is expected them each and every day. Its hard to imagine from one day to the next, all the structure, routine and expectations is all but forgotten by the time they arrive on your first day of summer camp. They’ve gone from school children to now summer day campers.

Summer camp is filled with a variety of talented individuals from athletes to artists, adventurists to storytellers and big brother/sister to school teacher and each helps each child find themselves learning something new. The children are bound to come home every day filled with stories of their day yet fully exhausted but ready to come back the next day to see what’s next. By the end of the summer only wishing to come back for another year.

I am entrusting you to care for my child from head to toe, share their excitement, comfort their fears and encourage them when needed.

When I took on Camp Director, I vowed to my families I served, their children will be safe, afforded balanced choices and new opportunities to explore new skills, find new talents, make new friends and ultimately have a summer to remember. Every year, regardless of my position, I have always learned something new from a child, a parent or one of my staff which helped me become a better person. Sometimes it was as simple as reminding me why I do what I do to taking time to just see the world from the eyes of my campers, each a lesson learned.

I guess what I am trying to tell you is, I want you to be there for them, when I can’t. I am sharing with you my pride and joy, my most precious gift from God and what I would do anything for.

There are so many other jobs and so many other ways to make more money than working the long hours in a summer day camp. However, I find no other experience as rewarding, exciting and self fulfilling than seeing children grow up in your own eyes over the summer. The hours we spend with children help us become a part of your child’s young life and the bond we make can last a lifetime for both campers and camp staff. Many years later, I still have memories of the campers in my programs and at least once a year, one finds me and shares their sentimental memories of being in one of my camps. Each child whether I remember a face, a name or on the rare occasion, remember both face and name, occupies a treasured memory which I wouldn't trade for anything. The memories of summer camp alone would be on its own, another blog.

Its not easy entrusting someone who I barely met, except for the few minutes at camp open house, where every other parent too was eager to meet you and tell you about their child’s uniqueness.
I pray and hope you received as much training as possible, but know very well that won’t make up for the years of hands on experience I have raising my child.

When I hired staff for summer camp, I like to say, I take only the best, but truth is often of the hundreds of applications and resumes I receive, I pray and take my chances in that I made the right choices for the families I will be serving. With my magic wand, I arm each of them with a virtual toolbox filled with team building exercises, exciting themes and suggested activities, behavior management skills, basic first aid and a healthy dose of camp spirit which will keep their fire and passion alive for ten weeks of long ten hour days without missing a beat. For many, it may be their first job and wish to relive the great summer camp memories of their own while and for others it’s an annual seasonal homecoming of sorts where they wish to share their passion of working with children.

As you open this letter, the anticipation of Monday is growing both with my own nervousness and my child’s excitement and I sure hope you all are ready for each and everyone.

With anxiety, Mom or Dad or both come into the YMCA that first morning, trusting they made the right decision to put their precious gift into your hands. The parents barely know you (if they do at all) and trusted the YMCAs reputation for safe, fun-filled and memorable experiences and pray all goes well. In a parent’s eyes, the first morning, the first day is nothing but filled with chaos, disorganization and being reminded don’t forget lunch, snacks, water, sunscreen, bathing suits, towels, to fill camp store charge and don’t forget our field trip on Friday. The child’s excitement roars with all their senses at peak, seeing a friend they haven’t seen since last year’s summer camp and getting a hug or high-five, smelling the pool’s chlorine and popcorn and hearing the laughter of happy children and counselors getting acquainted. All this happening within the first fifteen minutes. By the time the child is signed in, Mom and Dad barely are able to wish their child a great day, they escape to the realm of summer day camp. Again, Mom and Dad are trusting their precious gift into your hands, hoping you have received the right tools to provide their child the world.

I won’t bore you with particulars about my child because I know each and every child you will have that day will bring their own baggage of life’s experiences, but my child deserves your attention just as much as the next and of please remember my child is still a child and can easily be forgotten when distractions continually invite your attention.

The diversity of the children I served over the years is probably one of the things I love the most. From the various ethnicities to those of various abilities, each brought a new challenge, like cooking a new dish, awaiting to see if the final result will be as good as the picture you saw with the recipe. Even after all these years, the ingredients of great staff, excited children and supporting supervisors and minimal budgets, the result is always better than expected!

My child is in your hands this summer, I have full faith, I will see my child grow through all the wonderful experiences you will provide and ultimately become a well rounded child filled with great memories of their childhood summers.
Sincerely,

YMCA Camper’s Parent

This summer of 2014, I am am beginning my thirty-first year of summer day camp, whether being its my past as a junior camp counselor to currently the payroll and benefits administrator, I’ve gained new experiences and future memories. I often look on all the counselors’ and camp directors’ faces coming through today's YMCA doors, which hasn't changed over the years, the excitement which summer camp brings both to campers and staff alike. However, I notice, while I may not have aged a day, they, the staff, seem to get younger with each passing year as they become our next generation of professional role models.

Here's to another summer - may it be bring campers and our professional role models a summer to remember with new memories to forever cherish.

Epilogue - Though the original parent letter has been long lost, I tried my best to recreate and ad-lib as I saw fit, the letter is italicized and my story was interwoven between the letter.

REMEMBER MY NAME

This was a pivoting line from my most recent favorite television show, “Breaking Bad” where the main character became enemy number one and made sure every one knew in fact he “was the danger.” I am far from dangerous and being anywhere near top meth cook. However, its funny how working with children for much of my YMCA career how they remember you as the protagonist with a name and associate with a notable experience. In 1998, I departed direct service and subsequently took on more administrative positions in our corporate office, the elusive “Metro Office.” To this day, I hold to my roots of a programmer (no, not the computer type – but leisure service delivery). Indirectly, I apply the program logic model to even the most mundane administrative tasks within my current role as Payroll Administrator. 

When the distance between my departure from program to administrative roles was perhaps months or even a year or two, my understanding of seeing children from my programs was more feasible. Whether visiting facilities throughout our service area or out about town with friends for an evening out I surely would run into those hundreds maybe even thousands of youth in the myriad programs I operated. From summer camp and before/after school child care to swim lessons and teen programs and the various enrichment classes in between I operated throughout the county, left me very little places to hide from anyone. Even a routine trip to the grocery store or even to dine out, I was always on stage and had to be prepared for the glaring eyes of someone begging to stop by and say “hi” and “remember my name” or “remember when…”  

Strangely, I have an aptitude remembering names and faces, just have a dreadful time putting them together and even worse how I may know them. By now you would think I would know that face, that name all circle back to my career choice. Despite, what you may think children as they grow up, do often look the same but all grown up. I would have thought by now, being so far removed from programs that I would no longer run into those I served through my programs. Last fall, I went to visit a friend and of all places I ran into one of my teens, who no longer is a teen but an adult at the Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport as a manager of the airport gift shop. I leisurely strolled from the gate after deplaning and thought I safely past the gift shop without stopping to window shop the myriad magazines and then suddenly I hear, “Mr. Robert! Mr. Robert!” being called. First I think they must be paging a passenger, then next thing I know I am being tapped on my shoulder. Surely, over the years, I gained weight and lost weight, lost even hair, grew a goatee, don’t wear glasses, dress less like a YMCA camp counselor and more like a professional showing my true age or more so out of a shared element of familiarity. I, too, must still have some resemblance to my past self for this young adult, Beau, to remember me. 

As I walked the long corridor of the terminal, he offered to carry my bags so he can have some time with me to reminisce of the difference I made in his life. I can’t possibly remember what I must have said or done, but my actions must have left him some positive scar engraved somewhere in his mind. He shared with me how, as a teen, the YMCA he found refuge from the stresses of school and a home life which was not always peaceful. I’ll be honest, I was more interested in finding baggage claim and my ride than listening to his story – which is totally not like me, but I was on vacation and excited to get away from my own world of work and home. As he shared with me his tale, I probably may have only caught on to minute pieces of his story which he passionately shared with me. Guilty as charged – I was not being an active listener let alone hearing what he said.

In my programming days, I hired staff who genuinely liked working with teens (like pre-schoolers – it’s an acquired skill) and made sure the program offered the opportunity for teens to explore careers, develop new life skills, make new friends in a safe, caring and fun environment. As Beau continued to tell me how, because of the YMCA he pushed himself to be the first one in his family to graduate high school, albeit with a struggling grade point average hovering to just barely making it. After high school graduation, he went on to take a job as he didn’t have much else and was fortunate to have a supervisor who helped him get into the community college and help pay for him to take classes and eventually to get an associate degree in business management. From what I gathered, with only a suitcase, he decided to get out of south Florida and have an opportunity for a fresh start in life. 

Arriving at the baggage carousel, I retrieved my luggage and spotted my ride, Beau finished his reminiscing and asked for a business card as he’d like to keep in touch and shook my hand and pulled me towards him in a hug, holding on a little longer and expressed his appreciation for believing in him and offering opportunities when everyone else “closed the doors on him.” With the wiping of a tear or two from my eyes, I once again felt the many convincing reasons I’ve worked with this great organization for as long as I have. Working with youth is by far is the most rewarding and selfless career choice. Paying dividends, years later when being fondly remembered. Beau and I parted ways, his silhouette becoming another faceless shadow diminishing as we walked opposite directions, him back to his gift shop and me with my ride, exiting to the terminal to the parking garage. Excited to have arrived and to visit a friend whom I haven’t seen in several years, I was, perhaps one of a few times you’d catch me speechless. For a brief moment in time, I managed to silently enjoy the moment I was thrown into the center of attention, because someone took time to stop me and express their gratitude for the impact I have made in their life.

Over the years, I realize so many times in my awesome career, Maya Angelou, in her poignant and elegant use of words believed “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” I can only hope our next generation of programmer’s are presented the opportunity (at least once in their career) to be thanked for their impact. Though I’ll probably never be materialistically rich … I’ll be rich in life’s experiences, friendships, memories and contentment for they will always remember my name.

WHY ME?...TO…Y ME?

As a Gen X’er, I was born in 1969 and as a youth my generation gave birth to the term “latch key” kids as more single parent households headed by Mom and dual-working families existed than any previous generation. Perhaps this explains the need for independence and the need for immediate self-gratification and constant change in all that us Gen X’ers do. Like many Gen X’ers I love my technology (I have iPhone, iPod, iPad, iMac, Wii, Roku, LED tvs, etc, etc.,.). I work to live, in simple sense, my work enables me to have the quality of life, I enjoy – having vacations that take me places as opposed to staycations – having a home I enjoy and look forward coming home to after a long day.

In just about three months (July 2014), I complete thirty, yes thirty years working for not only the same organization, but the same local association of this great national organization. Yes, you read correctly, thirty, the big 3-0 years in one organization, one association. This is an accomplishment by any person in any generation but for a Gen X’er this is rarely, if unheard of. My generation is the first generation to forgo the value of loyalty to an employer, to take on another position which offers better salary and benefits without a second thought.

That very last sentence of the previous paragraph, loyalty to an employer, is where the difference between me and other Gen X’ers begins. My loyalty to the YMCA has been ridiculed by my closest friends that I am still waiting to grow up and take on a real job to scoffed by fellow co-workers of not wanting to venture out of my comfort zone. Let’s add I remained local for college and graduate school and didn’t leave home – but that’s a whole another story.

My closest friends, have taken all their best shots at me over the years. I’ve heard it all:

-  “how do you expect to ever make more money if you don’t leave”
- “if they treated you better – you’d be in a better position now”
- “this new administration doesn’t respect your tenure and knowledge”
- “don’t you want to try something else?”
- “aren’t you bored?”

To answer all my friends, the answer to those questions:

- “I guess more money would be nice, but I live comfortably.”
- “I’m not sure this stage in my life, I want a ‘better’ position.”
- “Sometimes you just swallow your pride, other times you soar like an eagle.”
- “My many positions have exposed me to more than you can ever imagine.”
- “In my many years, I’ve never had a moment that I called boring.”

Then co-workers, were just as anxious to get their best shots. After a while the questions get stale, as the leadership changes, the questions don’t.

- “What do you want to really do?”
- “Are you happy with what you’re doing?”
- “What was your favorite position?”
- “What is your passion? What excites you?”
- “What kept you here so long?”

It’s hard not to keep a stiff upper lip and not respond in a ravenous, sarcastic tone to anyone who asks these questions, but particularly held true to co-workers. I try to smile, knowing it is not their fault they’ve not had this great opportunity I was offered.

- “I am where I need to be now – making a difference here – now.”
- “I am content, sometimes it was just not content rather who my boss was.”
- “All my positions had more positives than negatives and cannot just pick one.”
- “My passion is to ignite the spark in all that I do, and excites me when it spreads.”
- “My life just got in the way, this was the reward of a curve ball thrown at me.”

As leaders give tours of our office, many are paraded around in a show and tell of our organization’s history and our future, there’s always seems to be a stop by my office (I often feel like the freak behind the curtain at the local carnival that you pay $1 to see) to certainly be asked,
 
- “how long have you been here”,
- “how old were you when you started”
- “what were the various positions have you’ve done over the years.”

Please, don’t assume this as I think of this as a negative experience; as the only thing negative is others don’t get to enjoy the same glorious recognition and the redundancy in answering questions, as its always fascinating to each group touring that someone has stood the test of time. I find it equally fascinating watching their reaction to when I answer the questions.

- “In July 2014 it will be been 30 years.”
- “14.”
- “In general, Programs, IT, Grants, Fundraising, Executive, Payroll, Benefits, etc.”

I, unofficially, have gained the title of C.U.P., I am the association Chief Utility Player. I manage to have been blessed with the ability to learn the mechanics in whatever I am thrown into quickly adapt to my environment and make the best of it. Or even had some great leaders who allowed me to define my own position in implementing much needed programs or services as seen necessary. As a Gen X’er the ability to have a diverse, flexible, challenging work environment has always allowed me to thrive in almost every situation I’ve held. The title, C.U.P. I pretty much gave myself, as I’ve only taken one position by choice as a promotion, the remaining have always been moved to new challenges by staff senior then myself. I believe it has become, “Let’s see if Robert can do it.”  

The challenge was not how to keep me stimulated throughout my years but the ability to tap my wealth of knowledge, skills and abilities to benefit the organization as a whole. I wholeheartedly believe as each new administration comes in, they part their leadership, values and the path we take and once they move on, they, too have left their legacy for the next to do repeat the same. I’ve been through countless changes and realized the only thing changing is change. Over the years many faces, direction and leadership have come and go, however; it’s the steadfast and stable survivors left to inform our new leadership of our past. As a Gen X’er, I truly believe I’ve been blessed with a great diverse career that can put most high level executives to shame. I remain humble to my beginnings and take ownership of my career journey.

With the support and blessings of my awesome parents, my adopted mothers (those wonderful women in my life who look out for me), great mentors (those great men who still stand tall when I look up) and cherished friends all egged me on to begin to document my life at the YMCA. In one way or another, this blog and my MacBook Air (back to my love of technology), resulted in the birth of YMEJOURNEY. It is my hope, to many of the questions above will be answered in future posts and share my ride of a lifetime in the roller coaster of my career.

 

HOW TO MAKE CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES

As a new child care program director, I immediately inherited five low-income after-school programs with one in particular located in almost exclusive African-American community. Being, white, male in my twenties, I’m sure I stood out amongst all the various shades of everything but Caucasian.   

Its not that I felt uncomfortable in such a situation, but to say I felt all the children’s eyes were on me, as they never saw someone as white as myself. I felt over one hundred pairs of eyes just glued to my every move with the exception of this one fair-haired and even more white-skinned than me girl about seven that was in a corner of the cafetorium, all alone. As I approached her, I frustrated myself in the whole thirty second walk over to her, how am I going to ask her why she’s there all alone and not playing with the other children. In all my years of experience (at the time about ten years) I find it best just to be upfront with them, as they can smell bogus sincerity of adults like a polar bear smelling food miles away on the bare artic tundra.

After a few moments with the girl, whose name is Rebecca but likes to go by Becca (she made sure pronounced it for me as Ba Kah) and told me her wary, shy way that she is new to the school, and is seven (got that right!), doesn’t have any friends in the after-care program and feels very different from everyone. I asked her if she would like me to walk over with her to the other children her age, she quietly declined. I went over to her group leader, and Ms Thompson and she told me “she’s just like that” and “doesn’t want to be with the other children.” I was rather annoyed at Ms Thompson so readily to give up on Becca, but my heart knew she didn’t give up on her as much as was frustrated that she just couldn’t get Becca to come around. I said my good-byes to my staff and Becca too and made a promise that I would see her soon and assured her that she will have new friends to tell me about when I come back.

As I drove home that evening, I racked my brain how to help Becca assimilate into her new school and make friends. As a painfully, shy child myself, this made the challenge all that much greater for me to help her overcome. As I stopped at the local grocery store on the way home and allowed my nose to wonder past the bakeries I smelled fresh baked cookies. Then the idea light bulb shone down on so brightly that it nearly blinded me. Children of all ages love chocolate chip cookies and especially hot, gooey, chewy fresh out of the oven. So my brief stop to pick up dinner for myself became a nothing short of a project. Mind you, this was the days before the internet and world wide web let alone having smart phones to check the recipe, so to double check the ingredient list, I had to get to a pay phone and call my Mom. I managed to get everything Mom told me to have on my list and multiplied it by six – one for each of my five staff members there and one for me. This site was fortunate the cafeteria manager allowed the after-care staff full access and use of the cafeteria. The cafeteria manager more often than not stayed late and often helped our staff use her equipment. So need to find, pack and drag to the site baking sheets, mixing spoons and bowls, just bring on surprise and the numerous bags of ingredients.

After ample sitting time of the batter, I had to make sure Becca was in my group along with other boys and girls her age – so I had mainly seven year-olds filled with excitement, chatter and restlessness as school was done for the day. After getting settled at their designated table, I explained today’s snack will be homemade chocolate chip cookies and we will be making them as a group. Its not going to be prepackaged nor bakery store bought but we will use our own hands to make this. After passing out food preparation gloves, I deliberately had each child come to the front of the room and add an ingredient (the flour, the sugar, the brown sugar, the eggs, the chocolate chips, the baking power err…was it the baking soda) and allowed them each a turn to mix and stir. Once it was all mixed in well and allowed time for it to sit, I used the time for them to share what they liked best about the process of making the cookies. To my surprise Becca was the first to raise her hand and shared she enjoyed doing this as a group and the game we played while we put the ingredients together. I asked the children to say their name and share their favorite food, sport, TV show, game or book while they helped prepare the batter.

I put down a place setting consisting of a generous amount of parchment paper for each child and put a quarter baking sheet in the middle of the table within hands reach of four small hands. After having set about twenty table settings, I went around to each child, one-by-one, allowed them to reach in the mixing bowl and take two handfuls of batter and put in on their parchment place settings. Bad idea, “she took too much”, “my hands aren’t as big as his”, “he cheated”, “I didn’t get any” shrieked by all, these were definitely not the words I wanted to hear, I assured them I have enough batter to allow everyone to make their cookies.

Once the children made all the cookies, we placed their cookies on the baking sheets provided by Ms Allen and allowed her to bake them for us. The delicious aromas of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies filled the entire room as the closer they became to being done. The children’s excitement to see the product of their process was contagious amongst us adults. However, since the cookies took almost two hours to finish baking all of the trays, the adults decided it would be best to allow the children to enjoy them the next day when we have almost everyone in attendance.

So, today’s the fruits of our labor will be shared with our cookie makers. As we asked each child to reach with a napkin and take one cookie from one sheet and wait until everyone had one and they can take seconds. I made sure as staff went around to give seconds they focused on a different group of children there first go around. Once all children had their cookies, we asked them to not eat the cookies and share with their group leader how the cookies were the same but also different. As I walked around the room, I heard “one’s fatter”, “that one is lighter than that one”, “this doesn’t have as many chocolate chips”, “this one is crunchier”, “mine’s looks burnt” and every opposite and in between variation of explanations for each of the children in the program.

We gathered all the children in front of the stage and had our daily announcements. Today’s theme was to talk about the cookies. I explained to them no matter how different the cookies looked from each other they all tasted the same. Some just baked better than others, some were thin and crispy while others were fat and chewy and then allowed them to share other differences they noticed. Some told how one of their cookies had more chocolate chips than the other one, others shared how some cookies looked like certain animals, but regardless of their differences they all still tasted the same.

As the children were eating their cookies, I read them a book called “We're Different, We're the Same” and if my memory serves me right, it was through the same people who brought us Sesame Street. In total developmentally appropriate language and pictures, it shared the point I tried to make baking chocolate chip cookies. I can’t ever promise that Becca ever fit in with the rest of the children, nor can I promise I helped stop racism but I left my little part of the world just slightly more compassionate through the tummies of an entire after school program.

 

CIRCLE OF LIFE

Good Evening,

As I look throughout this room, I see how Sesame Street had it right when they sang and I promise with a definitive no I won’t sing the song for you, I promise. 

(interject appropriate plug for my post, PLEASE DON’T LET MR ROBERT SING you’ll understand how off key I was trying to make light of this) 

The lyrics go something like this…

“One of these things is not like the others,
One of these things just doesn't belong,
Can you tell which thing is not like the others
By the time I finish my song?“

I’m like all you others in coming to join you in celebrating Mr. Bernard Bell’s retirement. Its truly an honor for me to share my memories of Mr. Bell. 

I invite you to take a ride back in my time machine to my 1984…

By the time I was a freshman in high school I’ve already attended three elementary schools and three middle/junior high schools in two different states and one Canadian province and for a painfully shy student this was a just not a day at Disney World. Thankfully, my parents decided not to move throughout my high school years. Keep in mind, I was the shy, never a troublemaker in high school, I was respectful and well liked by almost all my teachers.

Somewhere in the first couple weeks of high school, I meandered the 500 hall of South Broward High School in Hollywood and avoided going to my fifth period Algebra I class. It was not that I didn’t like the teacher, its just I hated with every letter of the word to the nth degree anything to do with math. At the time, Mr Bell along with Mr Davis were our security team on patrol with their golf cart and caught me, err…busted me skipping this class. 

Mr Bell’s first words to me were nothing short of intimidating and painfully truthful. As most of you know, he has a uncanny talent telling you what you ought to hear not what you want to hear. Adding to this, his height and build added more of a fear into my blood. His words resonated as life will throw me a curve ball one day and in the real world and by all odds I will get a boss who I can’t stand. He explained how I will still have to show up to work and give it my all, as others will depend on me and the weight of my world will be my own to bear. With my first detention in hand, Mr Bell personally escorted me to my Algebra class. 

This was the first of nearly a dozen or so detentions for consequences of the choices I made. Although, I respected Mr Bell immensely I was deathly afraid of this man, mainly because I felt I let him down every time he caught me skipping (and it was always a math class). Over four years, I learned about life, responsibility and most importantly that some adult did care about me and was willing to listen to me when I needed it the most.

Let’s now take a climb back into my time machine as we fast forward to 1992…

I’ve now been out of high school for four years, I’ve managed to continue my education and have already have eight years under my belt working with youth at the YMCA and was in my first professional position as a Child Care Program Director responsible for ten off site locations. I was at one of these locations, helping train a new staff member in her new Site Director role.

The happily, loud and boisterous elementary aged children entered the cafeterorium (a combination cafeteria and auditorium) to start their day with the YMCA after care child care program. As we start the day, I am going through operating procedures and training my new Site Director. As I explained the first part of day we separate into two groups indoor (for those having homework) and outdoor (for those not having homework). After 30 minutes, we bring everyone back together and have a character value discussion and snack.

As we walk toward the parent sign-out area, in walks Mr Bell to pick up his son. Whoa! I had to take a double take to realize here’s the man who I was deathly afraid of but held to highest esteem of respect and now his offspring is in my child care program. Once we became reacquainted and chatted and he signed out his son, I threatened my new site director with her job (not really but laid fear into her pretty strongly) that her program better be on point and nothing could happen to this man’s son. Over the next several years, Bernie would be returning participant to our program – I guess I must have done something right.

My last stop in my time machine takes us to 2002…

I am still working at the YMCA and have eighteen years of various experiences and capacities. I am now the Contract Compliance Director overseeing numerous grants. I arrive with my supervisor to the grant award announcements and there is Mr Bell. I insist if I didn’t know any better, Mr Bell was checking up on me every few years to make sure I was on the right life path.

At the conclusion of the meeting, before I even had a chance to get up and re-introduce myself he came over with a smile and introduced himself to my supervisor and exchanged greetings with me. We found out that we now became community partners in operating the 21st Century Community Learning Center program at Coconut Creek High School. With my experience in operating YMCA programs and his experience with education and the School Board we were embarking on a journey together. Over three years, we served hundreds of high school youth in a program which combined components of academic enrichment, tutoring, team sports and health and wellness with the ultimate goal of improving the lives of those we touch.

During this time, I first hand witnessed how Mr Bell through the years still had the tough love with his students but experienced the great leadership he provided faculty and staff at his high school and extended it on to me.

There you have it, as I finish my song, “Can you tell which thing is not like the others?” Well, I am more than certain I am not like all you others, because I’ve come through the circle of life with Mr Bell and experienced him as a student, his son’s child care provider and partner in education. 

I found myself to be blessed with Mr Bell coming into my life and can stand proud knowing he has seen me grow from the lost freshman in high school who despised going to an Algebra I class. Where am I now you may ask? Well, I will be celebrating thirty years at the YMCA this July 2014. Yes, I still truly hate math of all sorts – but with tools such as Microsoft Excel and a calculator I am now responsible for over fifteen million dollars and hoping I too can blessed by helping a youth find the path to life.

Thank you Mr Bell and Godspeed and blessings you as you start your new journey!

Epilogue - Initially, this was written as my part of my speech at Mr Bell’s retirement party on February 21, 2014, but my desire to speak from the heart became stronger the theme of the circle of life and the memories shared were much the same but was condensed from the original context.