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.