REFLECTIONS FROM MY SOUL

Here I am a man, much like him in may ways,
And different too, as he expected me to be the best I can be.
Preaching to me in his words of life’s wisdom and
Protecting his only son as he ventures out in the world.
Yet, noticing he’s no longer a boy but a grown man.
For all the extraordinary things he’s done for me, he has never
Asked for anything in return from me, but only my love.
Taking precious time to guide me and show me the little things
His own father shared with him as he was becoming a man.
Even though I’m never able to express to him the affection and
Recognition for that he has done in raising me…
Surely, he has to be proud of me when he sees who I’ve become.
Donating his family name to me, now its my turn to pass it on.
And remember this, I’ll always love you and that
Your someone special whom I can only call Dad.

Happy Father’s Day!

 

 

REFLECTIONS FROM MY HEART

Here’s is a woman that means more than I say,
Always there for me in my greatest time of need.
Preaching to me her experiences of life,
Praying that her son will make his own decisions,
Yet. she’s always waiting to give me a hug to
Mold me into what she proudly hails as her son.
Only I’m never able to express to her
The gratitude and appreciation for her
Hard work in raising me, as shown through my success.
Encouraging my heart to do the best I can
Really is all she always expected of me.
Seems like only yesterday that I was little
Depending on you, but here I am as a man…
And remember this, I’ll always love you and that
Your someone special whom I can only call, Mom.

Happy Mother’s Day!

THE EVOLUTION OF BOOGER FACE

I’ve been at a local department store for over an hour (which for me is 59 minutes too long) to buy shoes for work of all things. I’ve tried on a dozen black dress shoes and about the same in brown shoes and needed both yesterday. I felt like Goldilocks, too small, too large, too narrow, too tight, too little arch support, too ugly or too expensive. I seemed to have an excuse why one pair was not any better than the last one I tried on. Not one pair in the whole store was “just right”. I think Goldilocks had it easier when she just had to choose the “just right” one from too small and too big. With each pair tried on, my grumbling became louder and more obnoxious as was my patience in the ordeal.

As I succumbed to the lesser of the “not just right” ones, a woman had asked me if I was “Robert Kovacs who worked at the Y almost fifteen or so years ago”, with a smile on my face I positively acknowledged her .

I put down the boxes of shoes that quickly where building a fort around me, stood up and acknowledged this woman with a handshake. As I stood and saw her eyes, her hair and her mannerisms, it instantly flashed me back to when I was a counselor when her son was in my program.

“Ms Evans?” I questioned my own memory but her eyes as blue as the sky, hair blonde and her confident yet quiet mannerisms immediately confirmed to me she was indeed Ms Evans. How could I forget her name? when she strikingly looked like the actress in the 80s prime time soap opera, “Dynasty”, Linda Evans. How coincidental? She too nodded, confirming her name with a beautiful smile that flashed my years in rewind mode instantly.

The YMCA administration and youth services team felt Ryan’s enrollment in the program was critical to provide him a full scholarship, in which the YMCA, through the generosity of the donors would fully underwrite the cost of him attending the program. I was baffled to think, a child, like Ryan would get a free ride, when there are probably 10 children who would appreciate and overwhelmingly enjoy the chance to partake in YMCA programs. Having Ryan enrolled in the program I felt would jeopardize the safety of other participants or compromise the quality of programs what families have come to expect from the YMCA.

Her son, Ryan, in the eyes of my staff and I was Satan. Making his presence known on earth, or more specifically, the YMCAs school-age child care and camp programs. When Ryan had enrolled in the program, he was maybe six or seven, red hair, freckles, green eyes and rather short chunky and frumpy and with a continuous runny nose. He definitely aged beyond his six or seven years through all that he’s been through in his short life. I eventually found out his father was an abusive alcoholic and mother was going to school and working a part-time job to find the means to start a new life for her and Ryan. Ryan’s wiry unkempt red hair and piercing small green eyes oddly resembled Satan and coupled with his size and appearance only corroborated this was totally true. The continuous runny nose naturally gave birth to Ryan’s nickname, Booger Face.

Back in the day, staff and youth participants were given nicknames, some may have seemed demeaning while others where more uplifting, but in the eyes of staff, none were intentionally done to emotionally embarrass or to humiliate anyone but to build a distinct bond with staff and youth participants. By knowledge gained, present laws and hypersensitivity to emotional abuse and bullying the practice of nicknames phased out over one summer. Retrospectively, calling each other nicknames was inappropriate even as much of the staff thought of it as an endearing way to build a connection with the youth participants. Despite the urge to use his nickname, I opted to use his birth name to reiterate the importance of keeping with the spirit of treating everyone with respect and not propagate bullying.

Since my patience and even keel personality was much greater than my peers, I always managed to get Ryan in my group, not for just a season, but for the reasons aforementioned. I had Ryan in my group for several years and I insist each and every year he managed to somehow out do the previous year in terms of his behaviors, his actions left an everlasting imprint on me. Somehow, my group became the group which other staff sent their behaviorally challenged participants for day, week or permanently. I swear that when its my turn to have children, I’ll never have children named Ryan or Paige. A Paige in Time and Lessons Learned shares my experiences I had with a child with special needs several years later.

Ryan’s legacy has been permanently engraved in the memories of all those who had any contact (both figuratively and literally) with him. The few instances I remember when Ryan was good, he was really good. Not only did he follow directions of staff but was able to encourage others to behave appropriately. Using a teacher’s report card voice, ‘Ryan lacks self-esteem but makes up for it by being well received by his peers when he behaves and interacts appropriately’ and ‘Ryan is quite aware his inappropriate behavior’s consequences and manages to allow his emotions often take over and to distract him from completing tasks resorting to unacceptable means of getting attention.’ Best way to describe his behavior is what I learned many moons ago in a child development class, positive attention is great – but negative attention also is great as its better than no attention at all.

Some of these recollections of Ryan’s attention getting behaviors, I believe, triggered a domino effect on staff turnover and loss of program participants. I’ve seen more than the usual number of staff come and go during the years Ryan was in YMCA programs. Most staff felt they weren’t compensated adequately to put up with him and his extreme behaviors. Same was to be said of program other participants, once a child went home and told their parents “You wouldn’t believe what Ryan did today…” Sadly, explaining with compassion and maintaining confidentiality staff did their best to retain participants but more often than not, families didn’t want their children exposed to Ryan. I’ll share a few of the extremes, which ultimately affected my choice to never name a male child of mine, Ryan.

On a winter break camp field trip to the Miami Sequarium, a good 45 minute bus trip on a good traffic day. School bus drivers are trained to torture themselves and all the other adults on a school bus by extending the trip’s duration by driving at least ten miles or below the speed limit when on the expressway. Ryan started off the trip, quiet and subdued (my guess, he was scheming what he will do next). As the bus accelerated to get on the expressway, the shrieking of children became louder than usual and overhearing words I was not accustomed to hearing from youth. Seated in the middle of the bus, I stood up and proceeded to stand up and as I did, Ryan just deliberately delivered a “hot meal” onto my seat. Pardon, the disgusting definition for those who may not be familiar with the term of “hot meal” but its projectile vomiting. In this case, it was purely intentional and the sole purpose was to get attention from the staff. Not, just one instance but not less than half a dozen times grazing a few participants and staff. I didn’t realize you could vomit so many times, but Ryan proved me wrong. Once we arrived at our destination Ryan, and few others had to be hosed down, needless to say he enjoyed his moment to shine.

Ryan often decided it was his job to “wash the Ys dirt away” down the hall by urinating on areas he appropriately deemed dirty. Sadly, if you were in line of spray, you were showered – thankfully, he would only do this in front of staff, never his fellow participants. Lastly, his artistic talent was exhibited throughout the building by finger painting the walls with his own feces. How he managed to do this, is still beyond me, but all it took was an adult turning their back for a split second. The punishment was usually our custodial staff would make him clean up his own bodily fluids. Back in the day, over twenty-five years ago, universal precautions was just beginning to surface outside the medical world. Gloves and proper cleaning supplies where always available but the biohazard disposable gowns, masks, clean-up kits, etc were still years away in child care programs.

Ryan’s behavior was truly one of extremes as I’ve mentioned. Over the years, Ryan’s behavior improved in a trivial fashion – one step forward, two steps backwards but at times he managed to surprise staff. The sense of accomplishment and success was written all over the faces of staff when a positive behavior permanently became part of Ryan’s character and personality. During my time with Ryan, I was ecstatic and filled with pride when Ryan greeted me by my real name, not some derogatory obscenity, he self-corrected himself more often than not and picked the healthier choices how to behave and lastly when he willingly offered to surrender a much coveted treasure box ticket. With each change in behavior, I saw Ryan’s self-esteem and self-control grow, albeit at a sloth’s pace, it was truly encouraging.

The morning of camp when Ryan greeted me at the sign-in desk, “Good morning, Mr Robert” as opposed to his typical offensive grumble was the first noticeable change in my last summer working with my summer with him. Each and every morning for the entire camp, I was greeted appropriately, pleasantly with a sense of sincerity. Throughout camp, I witnessed his ability to make the right choice in a difficult situation became increasingly more common and the other participants began to befriend him. About half way through our camp season, Ryan was rewarded the much coveted treasure box ticket. The treasure box ticket was a camp-wide initiative which the camper who demonstrated the best camp spirit of the week was permitted to pick a prize. The prizes varied from having lunch with anyone in the YMCA and their choice meal, tickets for the family to attractions camp did on a field trip, a gift certificate to a toy store, and other highly valued prizes. Without hesitation, Ryan gave up his treasure chest ticket to another participant who was moving out of the area and was his best friend. Reasons be known to Ryan alone, this selfless act had staff beaming in elation.

So, as the evolution of Booger Face has begun, with a broken heart, I had to tell Ryan that I would be moving, not in the physical sense but in terms of my job. I explained how proud I was of him, but time has come for me to take on a new position that will have me leaving the YMCA. I am not sure whose tears flowed harder and longer that day. My last day, I hugged Ryan tightly and wished him all the best and hoped he continued to do the right thing at the right time. With a smile filled with tears in his eyes that he didn’t want me to see, I left the YMCA building.

As many years have past, I always wondered what happened to Ryan. In his eyes, to know him deeper than most was to understand him. To understand him was to love him unconditionally. In turn, he did the same and trusted me fully. Probably the only adult male he didn’t have to fear and could be himself, despite the challenges we faced.

“Robert what have you been up to since you left the Y.” and all the sudden I am awakened from my daydreaming of days past, asked Ms Evans.

I explained, I never really left the YMCA, just moved up and about and now work in the corporate association office. She gleamed a smile and asked if I was married, did I go to university and other questions to fill the voids of years past. I found out from my own questioning, she managed to complete her nursing degree and remarried a few years after my departure. With anxiety resting in my throat, it took all the strength I had to muster out, “So, what has Ryan up to now days?”

Ms Evans face glowed as she expressed her gratitude for the patience, endurance and compassion the staff at the YMCA had during Ryan’s most challenging years. She was proud to share Ryan had managed to survive the middle school years with nothing out of the ordinary issues a hormone induced and imbalanced pre-teen male youth would go through. His 180 turnaround transformed him into a respectable, well-mannered teenager by the time he started high school. She continued to share, Ryan graduated high school with a grade point average strong enough to earn acceptance in an undergraduate program with a partial scholarship. Her eyes swelled with tears as she shared, Ryan worked at a larger YMCA association out of state as an Alternative Youth Services Director. The program oversees high school students who have been suspended or expelled from the school district and are provided an alternative option to get the record written off by successfully completing the program at the YMCA. Ryan at the time had completed his undergraduate in Education and was pursuing his master degree.

Unpredictably, the YMCA center Ryan was at, I knew the Executive Director quite well, as did Ryan, but he didn’t know it at the time. My supervisor, when I had Ryan in my group, so many years before, was now Ryan’s immediate supervisor. I shared with Ms Evans how Mike and I remain friends and how he is an Executive Director at the very center Ryan worked at. We both shared a warm-hearted laugh, as being revealed we were on Candid Camera after a strategic practical joke was revealed. As Ms Evans talked and reminisced the past and seeing the future Ryan has in his hands, time escaped us before we knew it, over two hours past. As we parted ways, we made an effort to promise to keep in touch. I told her, once I get home, I will give a call to Mike and share with him the happenings of this exciting day.

Later that evening, true to my word, I called up Mike, and only received his voice mail. “Hey Mike! Hope all is well. Question for you, do you ever wonder whatever happened to Booger Face back from the days when you were a Program Director and I was a Counselor? You know where to find me!” Several hours later, Mike returned my call, and we did indeed catch up, just as Ms Evans and I did earlier in the day, and to say Mike was beyond words and a whirlwind of emotions was an understatement, he remained speechless for the first moments of our conversation. He even questioned if I had the right Ryan Evans as his staff’s last name is not Evans.

In Mike’s parting words to me: “I hope you are right, because tomorrow, I will go up to him and watch him squirm as he did when he was a child, when we called him Booger Face.”

BE THERE

The most valuable lessons in life are not always taught in a school’s classroom or passed on to you by those significant persons in your life but are often taught in moments in time of life. The moments in time of life often don’t come with detailed instructions how to handle these unexpected situations you may encounter in the journey of life. Death. Whether the loss of someone is immediate or due to a prolonged illness, death never comes easy, especially of someone who touched your life in one way or another. Much like playing a video in slow motion, when the news breaks, everything comes to a painful, slow standstill.

Today, I received the text at work, “Dad lost his fight this morning.”

Throughout my close friend’s father’s short battle with cancer, his repeated admissions to the hospital only brought back memories of my own father’s battle cancers and overcoming three strokes. A sense of gratefulness came over me for my own father is still living; but felt intensely heartbroken that another man lost his battle to this cruel illness. With his passing, I am oddly comforted that he’s no longer in pain yet realize both my friend and her mother will just begin feeling their loss.

These moments offer no script to follow, right or wrong, it can only be hoped the words traveling from your mind and out your mouth offer comfort for those grieving. The awkwardness of expressing the initial words of sympathy and offering condolences is the hardest to release and can never be taken back.

Hesitantly, I replied, “I’m sorry, my thoughts are with you and Mom. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to reach out.”

Allowing for space and time, I intentionally didn’t reach out again until the memorial service in the fear of being over bearing. Adding to the discomfort, being of a different faith, I was not familiar with the grieving family entering the room after the guests have already taken their seats and just prior to the start of the actual memorial service. The duration of the memorial service felt like eternity but in reality may have lasted an hour at best. During this short service, the rabbi highlighted the deceased’s life, sang songs and recited prayers in both Hebrew and English and concluded with words leaving me pondering. Along with the other mourners the parting thoughts from the rabbi were clearly not just for the moment but lessons for a lifetime.

I’ll attempt to paraphrase his words to the best recollection as my memory of the day remains surreal.

The importance of being family, being there for each other and genuinely loving each other are words we as passengers on Earth need to do much better at. It takes a sorrowful event like this to bring the good out of many people and more often than not we all get caught up in our own life and put off that call to check on a friend, go visit, do things together or simply just be there, because we are friends. Both my grieving friend and myself are only children with minimal extended family. With each passing year, as I get older, I too, wonder who will be there when I need someone. Friends become family for various reasons and are held closer than blood as they are selectively chosen. Sadly, life gets in the way of being there more often than not. It escapes the things we ought to do to keep family and friendships together, distance holds no excuse, catching up with a simple “hello and how’s it going” or just making time to get together seems to not happen enough – more often than not procrastination is the only defendable excuse. As one more weekend passes, then even quicker another year escapes, Father Time has an evil sense of humor, with every blink of an eye, time has escaped and expired, never to be given back, except in nostalgic memories and all the should have regrets.

The rabbi concluded the service by informing us the family will remain afterwards to receive friends. With my own mother, hand in hand, we walked up to my friend and her mother and offered our condolences. I felt my presence was without much exchange of words but allowing my friend to hug freely allowed her emotions to be set free. This in turn spoke volumes, more than any words could say, how our family and friendship are one in the same and will always be. The significance of the words expressed by the rabbi today, was attractively wrapped up by a hug and simply, by just being there.

LIVING LIFE FROM ROSE COLORED GLASSES

Back in 1990s when I first became a Program Director to oversee multiple off-site child care programs our funding streams were in their infancy. The YMCA was in recipient of large grant awards funding programs almost in its entirety and the explosion of before and after school child care programs on elementary school campuses began. Programs were balanced with recreational, social and homework time activities each day. A typical schedule would be:


2:00pm – 2:30pm
Arrival – Attendance – Restrooms – Snack

2:30pm – 3:15pm
Homework Time (for those who want to complete) or Playground Time

3:15pm – 4:00pm
Arts and Crafts

4:00pm – 4:45pm
Outdoor Sports or Organized Group Activities

4:45pm – 5:30pm
Indoor Games

5:30pm – 6:00pm
Dismissal and Free Choice of Indoor Activities


Schedules were generalized and most of our staff where high school juniors and seniors over the age of 16 who were supervised by college students who have worked there for at least two to three years to be senior group leaders. The term group leader was used as opposed to counselors to provide a distinction of the staff supervising the children are not in fact counselors as in the social work arena. The activities the children participated in were often only as strong as the staff member’s knowledge and experience leading games, songs and arts and craft activities coupled with excitement to play that they brought with them each and every day. The majority of staff, generally were nothing greater than older children themselves and often found having fun partaking in the activities with their assigned age group.

As a junior group leader, I first was paired with a senior group leader to learn the rules, routines and techniques in keeping the children in the group engaged, entertained and excited. The rules relatively were to keep both children and the staff safe. Such rules is never be alone with a child, don’t allow children in your group to be outside of your view, make sure you help with their homework – don’t do it for them, allow children to resolve their own problems with minimal direction from staff, etc,. Routines included when we do restroom breaks, what you do to prepare for snacks, how to have smooth transitions from one activity to another and how to keep activities seamless to maintain behavior issues to a minimum. Techniques to setup, organize and deploy a day’s worth of activities with alternate plans for rainy days and full day programs were all taught hands-on as well as maintaining group behavior control and supervision. Once you met the age requirement of 18 and have proven you could maintain group control and plan appropriate developmentally appropriate activities you were promoted to senior group leader. With this came the immense responsibility of supervising and passing your gained knowledge and experience down to the junior group leader you were assigned.

Once you’ve mastered being a senior group leader and had managed to outlast the others, additional responsibilities were bestowed upon to you from the Program Director. From helping write up bus and site rosters, staff and group schedules, plan field trips and transportation and mentor new senior group leaders coming up the ranks. Additional work hours became available to those willing to become certified swim instructors and lifeguards or membership desk attendants. By the time I was 18, I was working regularly the maximum 30 hours a week allowed for part-time employees.

Today’s group leaders are now titled counselors, not they are certified in the social work arena but part of the new requirements in grants. Within a new counselor’s first year employment, all staff under go 50 clock hours of state mandated training within their first year of employment, CPR and First Aid and further training throughout the year to meet various additional mandates from funders and the local school board as well as additional organization specific training. Counselors are now responsible to incorporate a myriad of components into an already shortened day and fill it with academic enrichment (not just homework time). Intentional social skill development, literacy and math skill development, intentional physical activity with healthy eating and lifestyle lessons and other components funders and partners are requiring to be incorporated into a quick-paced, four hour afternoon. Certified Teachers are now hired to lead much of the academic portion of the programs and various enrichments. I am not against the need to provide an organized, intentional curriculum which helps feed program logic models and successful outcome attainment but children more than ever need the ability to play freely. I’ve always been a proponent of play being an integral part of children learning social skills, problem solving skills and developing a positive self and developing into a person who’s grounded and has the skills to become a successful adult.

These same programs have evolved into a schedule which may look more like this:

2:00pm – 2:25pm
Arrival – Attendance – Restrooms

2:25pm – 2:50pm
Healthy Snack Choices

2:50pm – 3:15pm
Homework

3:15pm – 3:40pm
Social Skills / Computer Time / Healthy Eating and Physical Activity

3:40pm – 4:05pm
Academic Skills (different subject daily)

4:05pm – 4:30pm
Organized Outdoor Activities

4:30pm – 4:55pm
Outdoor Sports or Organized Outdoor Group Activities

4:55pm – 5:20pm
Organized Indoor Group Activities

5:20pm – 5:45pm
Playground

5:45pm – 6:00pm
Dismissal and Free Choice of Indoor Activities

A Program Director’s responsibility for the entire program from the administrative perspective was the ultimate difference between that of a senior group leader and that of a Program Director. Budgeting, staffing, scheduling, purchasing, organizing, implementing harmonizing and collaborating all around this tamed beast called Y-Prime Time. With a great mentor, the Program Director’s responsibility was like that of a ringmaster of a multiple ring circus and ownership of decisions rested solely with you, as the Program Director. Once the tamed monster was fed, it often only needed to be revamped with staff and seasonal changes. As a Program Director, I took great pride in my programs which were self-sustaining and my staff were empowered to make quality choices and decisions. As it is a Program Director’s job never seems to ever come to a rest, but I cannot imagine how I managed to do as much as I did without much of the modern conveniences which today’s Program Director’s have available. I managed to do my budgets on column pads with pencil erased holes in areas where my supervisor asked me to revise my figures one time too many. Finally, transferred it neatly to a clean sheet to be able to present it to the branch’s finance committee for review and approval.

Program Directors are now charged with fiscal responsibility to manage by numbers and colorful dashboards reminding them of outstanding obligations and upcoming deadlines. Many Program Director’s are often thrown into the position without much of the guidance and mentoring many prior have received from a caring, mentor and leader. The challenges of continually preparing for the monitoring requirements of not just child care licensing but school board and funder monitorings have continually challenge Program Directors to keep upon deadlines and expiration dates in personnel files and client files. The introduction of technology such as cell phones, notebook computers, 4G air cards and tablets have in many ways increased productivity at the expense of staff’s availability to be continually accessible by anyone and everyone. The “TNT” (Today Not Tomorrow) deadline echos the offices as Program Directors race to what appears to be a never ending day.

As for me, I fondly look back at the tangible impacts I made when in either my role as a Group Leader/Counselor or Program Director where made by simply getting to know the families we served and the ability to understand the individual needs of the children we served. Sometimes often less was more when each child served was treated as the individual they were and not molded to fit standards of what is now called developmental milestones and common core achievements. Times definitely changed from my humble beginnings, but children, now more than ever need a whole lot of slow to grow into the productive citizens of the future. Allowing childhood to be experienced with intentional self-directed choices is the first step in the right direction.

In a world filled with the many day modern conveniences, the art of being in the people business and having face-to-face time is often is overshadowed by the immediate need to answer that one last e-mail, cell phone call, text message or to do that one last thing before the never ending day sets and tomorrow begins. A concerted effort in developing staff to their full maximum potential needs to be revitalized and realized to become the next generation of leaders. Those of us who have been fortunate to have worked ourselves up through the ranks should find a promising leader, offer them our toolbox of knowledge and skills by mentoring, training and support them as they find their place in the YMCA and may continue this century plus tradition of youth development, healthy living and social responsibility.

 

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.