Ode to White Space

Photo Challenge #7 is: Colors. I had some difficulty deciding on a color for this challenge. Black is truly my favorite color: sleek, simple and clean. Bernie has always told me that black is not a color. I thought about taking a photo of something green. That has always been Nick's favorite color, and also stands for all things environmentally friendly. My second favorite color is purple, and is also the color of our new bathroom. Bursts of pink are showing up around our house as we get ready for our baby girl.

Instead, I chose white, arguably another non-color color. White is normally the color I like the least. It is cold, sterile, hard to keep clean. The walls in our house growing up were painted mostly white, although my mother would argue they were really "egg-shell" or "jordan almond." I have rebelled against that by painting almost every square inch of my house a color other than white, including the ceilings.

White can stand for calm and peace, particularly in the context of "white space." What is white space? According to Dictionary.com, white space is a noun; "1. the unprinted area of a piece of printing, as of a poster or newspaper page, or a portion of a piece of printing, as of an advertisement; blank space." My friend and former Enron colleague, Brian, defined white space as the room below your emails in your inbox, when your inbox isn't full. The way Outlook is set up for me, generally you need to have less than thirty emails to have any white space.

 

Here is my picture of white space. Not the best photo I've ever taken since it is intentionally not clear.

I have a love/hate relationship with email. I used to really like the ability to communicate instantly. It was easier than snail mail and helped me better keep up with far away friends and relatives. In the days of Facebook and text messages, email seems more time consuming, requiring more than a line or two of text. With the exception of very few people like my grandparents who don't have text messaging and don't like Facebook, I've all but gotten away from email for personal communication.

I think it may have been easier to practice law in the snail mail days. Electronic research was not available, correspondence and pleadings didn't necessarily require an instant response, and it took longer to get things done with dictation and typewriters. I often open my inbox only to find 200 or 300 emails waiting, the majority of which actually need my attention in some capacity.

Along the way I've picked up tips on gaining efficiency. While I can't remember precisely where it came from, one instruction was that it is most efficient to touch each email only once, fulfill any requirements, file it if necessary, and move on. While good advice, it is almost impossible to follow. All of my emails are delivered to my iphone. I often read them first there to triage the issue and determine if it requires immediate attention. Whether it does or not, I end up dealing with the email again in some fashion once I open Outlook on my laptop.

The other thing efficiency experts recommend is keeping your email closed and only opening it or dealing with it once or twice a day so that it's not a constant distraction. I'm not sure that would work since email is my primary source of communication. If there is some sort of emergency my coworkers know they can reach me quickly by email. I can't pick up the phone if I am in a meeting, but I can respond to an email.

White Space is a goal, an attitude, a struggle all in one. I try very hard to clean out my inbox everyday but find its often impossible and that I am falling asleep in front of my computer after the kids have gone to bed. When I achieve white space I feel like I've won for the day, like winning a game of Space Invaders by destroying all my targets. I find myself getting irritated with the people who unknowingly invade my white space, looking for ways to get their message out of my inbox as quickly as possible. My efforts at achieving white space are often frustrated by travel, taking a few days off, or working on projects.

Finding white space is symbolic of the struggle to find balance. It's not putting off until tomorrow what you can do today, getting to the gym everyday, eating your vegetables, spending quality time with the people you love, being organized. Sometimes work has to take a back seat when there is a family emergency. Sometimes work has to take precedence when a deadline is looming. In the end its really about being the best mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend, attorney, employee, I can be, without losing myself in the process.

Somedays I am better at finding balance and white space than others.

My Name is Jonathan

Jack tends to grow in spurts, or maybe we just notice in spurts. Lately it seems like he understands way more than we think he does. This is evidenced by some of his recent quotes:

Jack: "My name is Jonathan."
Me: "Really? Who told you that?"
Jack: "Pipa did."
Me: "If Pipa said it, it must be true. Do you want us to call you Jack or Jonathan?"
Jack: (thinks about it for a minute) "Jack."
Six months ago, he was convinced his name was "Jack Edwards, Double Agent," and there was no convincing him otherwise.

As we were getting ready to go to Kellee's for daycare on Friday, he said:
"I don't want to go to Kellee's. I want to go on the airplane and see the Yankees." We are going to Spring Training in Tampa, and we've mentioned it to him a few times. Clearly he remembered and is excited about it. This makes Bernie very happy because Nick was trying to be politically correct and wouldn't commit to being a Yankee fan until a few years ago. He would say he liked all teams and was just a baseball fan.

We get regular updates on baby Addie who is doing much better. She is still in the hospital but is learning to eat (drink) on her own instead of through a feeding tube and has been breathing on her own since Valentine's Day. Thursday night I saw a new picture of her come across my phone. Jack saw it too, which led to the following conversation:

Jack: "Is that my sister?"
Me: "No honey, your sister is still in my belly, but we will get to meet her soon."
Jack: "Is my sister kicking you?"
Me: "Not right now."

We've been talking to Jack about the baby for months but often don't get much of a reaction. I'm not sure he will really understand until we bring her home, but based on this conversation he at least understands that there will be a baby coming.

It's been a long week. Nick and I both had the stomach bug. Bernie and Jack have been lucky enough not to get it, at least so far. Jack had a hard time understanding why I was trying to stay away from him. I am feeling better but an still tired, so I've been trying to rest. Jack keeps asking me, "Are you sick, Mommy?" He even brought me a blanket when he thought I was cold.

This time last year we were moving him into his toddler bed. Soon we will be moving him into a twin bed (mostly because we need the toddler mattress for the crib).

It is fun to watch him grow and learn. It is amazing how much they change in a few short years.

Something Extra

Photography Challenge No. 6 is: Hands.  The way in which we hold our hands at any given moment says a lot about what we are thinking or feeling, or both.  We might hold our hands close to us in a somewhat protective stance when meeting someone new.  We might put our hands in our pockets or bite our fingernails when we are nervous.  With family and friends our hands are often open as an invitation to conversation, or in motion for those of us who talk with our hands.  Jack was the perfect model for this challenge because even though his vocabulary seems to be growing in leaps and bounds by the minute, he still uses a lot of body language to communicate with us.  As usual, I wasn't able to narrow my selection down to just one photo. All of these were taken Sunday during a small family gathering to celebrate Nick's birthday.

The first two photos are of Jack playing "hot wheels" with his Aunt Gayle.  

The next photo is Jack using the iPad2.  I had to include this one just because anyone that sees him using the tablet comments on his proficiency. He loves Youtube and lately his videos of choice seem to be old Donald Duck cartoons. It is amazing how he can find these things even though he really can't read or spell at this point.

The last two photos are of Jack anxiously awaiting a piece of Nick's birthday cake. I considered cropping the first picture down to just Nick and Colin's hands but Jack's facial expression is priceless.  We had already sung "Happy Birthday" to Nick, and the candles had been blown out.  It was very hard for Jack to wait for Nick to open his presents to have a piece of that Dairy Queen Ice Cream Cake.  Colin's hand is on Jack's as if to say, be patient, and don't touch that cake. I also like this picture because lately I have noticed a resemblence between Jack and Colin; its absolutely clear from this photo that they are cousins.

In the second picture Jack has his hands on his face as Tyler reads one of Nick's birthday cards out loud.  This is Jack showing restraint.  He is clearly frustrated, does not care what the card says and just wants to cut the cake already.  This is preschool anticipation at its finest. It looks like Kerrigan may be sharing some of Jack's thoughts.

In some ways, Jack was more excited about Nick's birthday than Nick.  Nick is happy that he is now able to get a permit and start to learn how to drive.  He is also happy about all of the very generous gifts he received.  At this point to Nick, the cake, the party, the candles are all routine traditions.  To Jack, those details are the most exciting parts.  Jack went shopping with me on Saturday to get all the supplies for the party.  It was very important to him to have the right candles.  They were the first things he picked out.  He insisted on holding them, but he got distracted and did not have them in his hands by the time we reached the cashier.  We put the groceries in the car and he insisted that we go back into the store and buy the right candles, in his mind, those were "Nick's candles."

Jack also helped me pick out Nick's cake.  When we got home from the store, Nick was at a friend's house and Jack was disappointed that he could not show Nick the supplies he helped gather. I left to pick up Nick and Bernie put Jack to bed.  When Jack woke up Sunday morning, his first question for me was, "did you get Nick?"  As if I would have forgotten and just left Nick somewhere.  As soon as Nick woke up, Jack had to show him the cake.  He wanted to eat it right then, at about 9am.  From that point forward, Jack could not wait until that afternoon when his cousins would arrive.  The questions kept coming: "are they here yet," "can we eat the cake?" If you want to make Jack smile at any given moment just tell him that he is going to get to see Colin, Tyler, and Kerrigan.  He absolutely adores them.

Anticipation of good things is a concept that is almost lost on adults.  Instead of looking forward to something, I tend to think about everything that needs to be done in order to make it happen.  I tend to overthink things and plan to the point that it almost isn't fun anymore.  I dread certain parts of it all.  If its a family vacation, I might dread the organization, packing, the idea of taking Jack on a plane, or getting through security with all his stuff.  If it is Christmas, I dread the shopping, wrapping, budgeting, cooking.  Even with the baby, I can't wait to hold her, but we are barely prepared, and I dread all of the work it is going to take to get ready.  It is hard enough to get a handle on our everyday lives and keep things running somewhat smoothly, throwing something extra in the mix often feels like it will only add to the chaos.

But... it is that "something extra" that makes all the everyday chaos worthwhile. "Something extra" is the reason we get out of bed in the morning.  It was watching Jack eat every last bit of his piece of ice cream cake.  It is listening to Jack reading the stories he's memorized at bedtime and adding his own embellishments. It was watching Nick say goodnight to his girlfriend after finally convincing her parents to let her to go the movies with him.  It was watching Nick give his all in wrestling this season despite the injuries and that fact that he didn't win a single match.  All of those intangibles add up to something greater than we could ever be by ourselves. 

Instead of facing the next obstacle with grown-up dread, I am going to try and soak up Jack's energy and enthusiasm and embrace the adventure with child-like anticipation that "something extra" will be waiting. 

It Takes A Village

"Oh Mr. Nicholas don't be so ridiculous, you know I don't like kisses in the morning."

When Nick was little, our very Irish daycare provider, Paddy, used to sing this song to him. He would get mad, embarrassed, and I think he hated it even more when I would sing it to him.

I was twenty when Nicholas was born, in many ways still a kid myself. Bernie was twenty-two. My criminal law clinic professor once pointed out that your brain isn't fully developed until you are twenty-five. He was trying to get us to ponder whether it was fair to subject eighteen to twenty-one year olds to the adult punishment system. In generations before us, it was common to have children in your early twenties. I however, was completely unprepared for the joys and challenges that would come along with raising the beautiful baby boy that we were blessed with.

Neither Bernie or I had finished college, I had barely started. We didn't have great jobs. On Nick's birth certificate, Bernie's occupation is listed as "Merchandiser" for Nabisco and I was a Reservations Consultant" at the Norwich Inn & Spa. I don't remember what Bernie was making at the time, but I was making $7.50/hour. We both lived with our parents, and we were not ready to get married. Looking back, I am not sure how we figured it all out, but eventually we did. How could we not? Our little blonde haired, blue-eyed boy was depending on us.

We didn't do it alone, and I am not sure we could have. Bernie and I were surrounded with (and still are) incredibly supportive parents, families, and friends. It was Hillary Clinton that said it takes a village to raise a child, and she was right. My parents put an addition on the house so that Nick and I would have a place to stay. Bernie's parents made sure that Nick wanted for nothing, and they spent countless hours with him while Bernie and I were at work or at school. My friend Bridgette's parents, Debbi and Reggie would often take him if I had a late class and Bernie had to work. We were fortunate to find great childcare providers like Andrea, Paddy, and Carolynne. The three of them really accepted Nick as part of their families during the times he was with them. Carolyn Fedus spent a summer as Nick's nanny. Nick's Godmother, Pam, was always there for us providing words of wisdom and encouragement. Nick has truly special relationships with both his Uncle Gary and his Uncle Brian. In some ways due to the relatively small age difference, I think they are more like brothers to him than uncles. Our friends would buy him toys and clothes all the time it seemed. Many of them were there to listen or take us out when we needed a break.

Even now we are grateful to have people like Jim Beman, who co-coached baseball with Bernie for many years; and Mr. Belval at St. Bernard's to help mentor Nick through his teenage years, to be a positive source of guidance, and to give Nick a place to turn to when his parents just don't understand.

Somehow we've managed to raise a (somewhat) responsible young man who is pleasure to be around, and who is an amazing big brother. Or maybe he actually raised us, I am not sure which, or that they are mutually exclusive.

As we celebrate Nick's 16th Birthday today, I just wanted to take a moment to thank all of you who have been and continue to be on this journey with us. We are very fortunate to have all of you in our lives.

Without embarrassing him too much, I'll leave you with some of my favorite pictures of Nick. Happy Birthday, Buddy! We love you!

My Favorite Things

This photography challenge of the week is: Object of Your Affection.  I struggled with this one a little because I didn’t want to post the obvious: pictures of the kids, Bernie, the dog, my extended family, etc. etc.  I decided to take a picture of something else that I truly love, and that makes me, well, me.

 

My inspiration came last night when I heard the sad news of Whitney Houston's untimely passing. My mother used to censor what I could listen to, or so she thought.  I had to tape early Madonna off the radio and listen to it quietly in my room, especially after "Like A Virgin" came out. For some reason Whitney Houston was allowed, maybe it was because she was a gospel singer, maybe it was because mom liked her too. I sang "How Will I Know," with a friend in a fourth grade talent show.  "The Greatest Love of All" was a popular selection of my choral directors.  We moved half way across the country to "I Wanna Dance With Somebody." I danced to "I'm Your Baby Tonight,” in one of my jazz classes. I thought even I, "miss ten minute mile" could win the Olympics when she sang "One Moment in Time" (I swear I was way faster then - LOL).  "I Will Always Love You," was my song for one of my high school boyfriends. When I was trying to go to college and juggle a myriad of responsibilities, "Step by Step" was inspirational. I was one of millions of girls around the world who would belt out her songs into a hairbrush in front of the mirror.  My range was never as good as hers, but unfortunately for my family, that didn't stop me from trying.

I love music. I love to sing, I love to dance, I love to listen to music.  Music has always been a big part of my life. It might have started with my grandmother teaching me the entire "Sound of Music" soundtrack by the time I was in preschool.  She has one of the most beautiful voices I’ve ever heard.  No one can sing “My Favorite Things” like Grandma. My Dad loves music too, growing up he had a huge music collection, and there was always something playing through the house.  He would play guitar and we would sing along with him and dance.  My dance classes were an integral part of my life, and I can’t remember a single one of them that wasn’t set to music. There is a song for any significant or insignificant moment.  Maybe a future blog post will be all of the songs that I think define my experience, although it would probably go on forever.  My mom and Nick have both separately observed that when I am not singing whether its in the shower, along with the radio, or to Jack, it means something is bothering me.

 

I was running late for the the airport, and I wanted to take a picture that would represent "music" before I left, so that I could work on my blog on the plane.  I headed straight for my "golden treasure chest" of memories in the basement (not kidding, it really IS a gold treasure chest), hoping to find some old sheet music to photograph.  Although I know it is in the house somewhere, I could not find any of it fast enough. Instead, I found a 7" 45 rpm vinyl record of "You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling'" by The Righteous Brothers:

 

This is by no means an antique.  It is some sort of reprint I purchased following my first trip to Texas during the summer of 1991.  Your guess is as good as mine as to why I was purchasing vinyl in the 90s. Perhaps it was the only way I could find the song pre-iTunes. I had gone to an ELCA National Youth Gathering in Dallas.  In typical youth group fashion, we broke out in song on the bus on the way to the airport and this is one of the songs we sang.  I remember that I really didn't know many of the lyrics, which is probably why I felt the need to own the record. It is funny that I found it today, since Dallas is exactly where I am headed. The song represents another high note on the musical playlist of my life.

 

I'm likely to miss most of the Grammy Awards in flight, but Bernie is DVRing it for me, so I can see the Whitney Houston tribute when I get back. I regret that I never got to see her in concert, a mistake I won't make with Madonna. I am definitely going to see her on tour this summer.  Who wants to come? 

You Can't Park Here

For as long as I can remember my sister has had a keen sense of direction. I swear you could blind fold her and leave her in the middle of nowhere and she would find her way home. I think she got that from my Dad. I on the other hand am directionally challenged and would have a hard time finding my way out of a paper bag. When I first got my drivers’ license, I called my dad numerous times to ask him for directions, even though I had no idea where I actually was. GPS is one of the greatest inventions of all time. Without it, I think I'd still be going in circles.

Jack inherited Gayle's awesome sense of geography. At 3, he figures out where we are and where we are going, and he has an opinion about it. He tells us he wants to go "that way," or "up the hill.” The other morning I drove carpool to school. We came to a busy intersection without a stoplight. Sometimes you can get right through. Other times, usually when we are running a little late and there is a lot of traffic, it takes a few minutes to get across. We were waiting at the stop sign and out of nowhere, Jack says, "Mommy, you can't park here." We all thought it was hysterical and then we explained that when you drive, it's like when you walk, and you have to stop and look both ways before you cross the street so that you don't get hit by a car. That explanation made total sense to him and he told me when he thought I could safely cross the street.

Seriously though, what 3 year old pays attention to where you park and if it's a good place? I know many adult drivers who park without any consideration as to whether they have chosen an appropriate spot. We've all seen people park in construction zones, handicapped spots when they don't qualify, and on streets during snow storms when there is a parking ban. I recently got into a heated argument with a TSA official at the Nashville airport when I was trying to wait in a "loading / unloading zone" for a co-worker I knew was on her way after collecting her things at baggage claim. I proceeded to load and unload my own suitcase and laptop bag while I waited for her just so I was following the rules - well, sort of following the rules - LOL!

Physically and metaphorically, we all "park" in spots we know we should not. It may be a job we've outgrown, weight we can't lose, debt we can't pay off, or a class we've given up in because the teacher is horrible and we'll never understand it anyway. I can think of dozens of examples. We stop moving forward because we think the effort won't make a difference, we blame others or other circumstances, we blame ourselves. Sometimes it's painful or uncomfortable to shift out of park and into first gear. Sometimes you have to go in reverse before you have the opportunity to advance forward. At the end of the day, where we park or if we park at all, are decisions we have to make on our own. I am learning that is true especially with our kids, as I prepare to turn the keys over to Nick (with supervision of course).

Sometimes you have to park, or rest for awhile because you have no choice, or to benefit someone else. I have always been one to work out my problems in a kinesiological fashion. Some people like to talk or write to work out their issues, and given my profession it's somewhat comical that I don't think those conduits necessarily work for me. I need physical movement. In my early life that was dance, more recently that need has been fulfilled through running or spinning. Due to just generally feeling lousy lately, being huge, and dealing with pregnancy-related migraines, I have had to back off my normal workout routine considerably. I am stressed and overwhelmed without that outlet, but fortunately for me, it's only temporary. It gives me great appreciation for people who are permanently deprived of activities they love.

Even though I may be physically parked more than I’d like to be, I am trying to move forward in other ways. There are always lots of things that need to be done whether at home or at work. It is hard to resist the temptation to check out and just do what is minimally required when you are tired and grumpy. I know that I will feel better if I can find even little ways to keep moving in the coming weeks.

Acts of Service

I am almost afraid to post this blog because I think every woman who reads this might try to steal my husband.  Most women I know are complaining about how their husbands don't help with the household chores.  They mow the lawn and take the garbage out but often that is where the help ends.  In addition to being, smart, funny, and handsome, Bernie is truly a partner in our marriage. He helps with childcare, cooking, laundry, cleaning, driving the kids to where they need to be, paying bills and grocery shopping, to name a just a few.  In fact, since I have been pregnant and not feeling well, and certainly when I have to travel, he's had to do more than his fair share.  He just does what needs to be done, and doesn't protest too much. In the eighteen years I have known him, I've never once had to make a "honey do" list for him; although I think he'd probably like to make one for me. In addition, his job is very stressful at times and his territory is in southwestern Connecticut, two hours from our house.

Photo Challenge #4 is: Expressing Love. According to author, Gary Chapman, there are five love languages.  The languages are:

1. Words of Affirmation

2. Quality Time

3. Receiving Gifts

4. Acts of Service

5. Physical Touch

While all five languages are important, most people have one that they use to predominantly express their affection.  My husband’s primary love language is Acts of Service.  Can I get any luckier? 

These are pictures I took of him today as he worked on our upstairs bathroom remodel.



I've always told him he should model for Eddie Bauer,

but maybe he should model for Home Depot instead? 

Projects like these in our house are far from easy. When we bought our house, we purchased it from the original owners, and it was built in 1958. They did all of the work on the house themselves, which is admirable, but it wasn't always done in a way you might expect or hope that it would be. To further complicate matters, we don't necessarily have the right tools or the expertise since many of these things we (mostly he) are doing for the first time.  It often takes ten steps to accomplish something that should take one or two steps.  It is Super Bowl Sunday, and we will watch the game later. Instead of hanging out with his friends and watching the pregame show all day, Bernie is installing a sink and cutting and painting moulding, so that I have a nice, new bathroom to use in the middle of the night. If that isn't love, I don't know what is. 

Thank you, Bernie!!!

The Weakest Link

When I was little I wanted to be an astronaut. I thought it would be fun to float through space, walk on the moon and eat astronaut ice cream. Part of what makes being a kid great is the that you don't have to consider the practical implications - like the fact that amusement park rides make me queasy and that until recently I was afraid to board an airplane.  It was an interest that was fueled by my dad's interest in flight. He would build remote controlled model airplanes, take us to air shows, and he had me playing "Flight Simulator" on the Commodore 64, before most people even owned a personal computer.  We went to Kennedy Space Center, Goddard Space Flight Center, and the National Air and Space Museum.  Here is a picture of my sister, Gayle and I at Cape Canaveral.

Just so my brother, Brian doesn't feel left out, here is a picture of him with an astronaut.  He looks thrilled - LOL!

My fascination with space travel was fun and interesting until the Challenger exploded on January 28, 1986. I was 10, in fifth grade, and I was home sick from school.  I watched in horror from our living room in Green Bay as they showed the footage of the explosion over and over again. No one had any answers and no one could tell me why we had lost our 7 astronauts including the first civilian, and the Space Shuttle itself. The only thing I kept hearing was that space flight was risky business and the astronauts assumed this risk when they entered the cockpit that morning. The shuttle program was grounded and I moved on. I knew generally that it had been determined that one of the O-rings had failed and that there were lawsuits pending against various manufacturers and subcontractors.  I never really followed the story much beyond that. The disaster made me skeptical of the government, and that skepticism was further confirmed when Columbia disintegrated on February 1, 2003.

Fast forward to February 2, 2012, almost 27 years to the day of the Challenger disaster and almost 9 years to the day we lost Columbia.  I am what is probably considered the complete opposite of an astronaut - in house counsel for an insurance company. I was in Orlando, FL attending the annual Windstorm Insurance Conference. The sponsor, the WIND Network, describes itself as "an educational association dedicated to dealing with insurance windstorm claim issues." The conference is attended by insurance company adjusters and attorneys, defense counsel, and policyholder representatives such as plaintiffs attorneys and public adjusters.  For those of you outside the industry, I am sure this sounds to be a snoozefest, about as exciting as a CPA convention. As with most conferences regardless of industry there were keynote speakers brought in to talk to us about leadership and try to send us back to our lives with a renewed sense of empowerment to make a difference in our respective organizations.  One of those two speakers was Mike Mullane, former astronaut turned professional speaker.

Mike's speech had a few themes but the one that resonated the most with me was what he called “normalization of deviance.”  His prime example was the O-rings involved in the Challenger disaster.   NASA knew as early as 1984 that the O-rings presented a safety risk.  There was at least one memo that predicted the Challenger disaster.  The fire was never supposed to reach or touch the O-rings, the fact that it did was a design flaw.  NASA had made a lot of promises about what the Space Shuttle Program could do and it had an aggressive time schedule in terms of the number of launches in a given period.  To take the shuttles off line and fix the issue would have compromised the budget and the timetable.  Instead, they looked at previous launches and ran tests on the O-rings to see if they would fail when flight and heat conditions were replicated.  When the O-rings remained in tact, the deviation from the best practice became the norm.  After several more missions, the rocket scientists went back to the lab and ran tests with more extreme conditions after they noticed more damage to the O-rings.  Again the O-rings did not fail in the lab, and the new standard became two deviations from the original best practice. In their minds this seemed to be the answer since there had been over twenty missions and the O-rings never failed.  That is, until Challenger disintegrated.  The accident cost NASA its reputation and came with a disrupted flight schedule. Way more money was spent in the investigation than would have been spent if the time and effort to correct the design flaw had been invested in the first place, and more importantly, seven lives would have been saved.

We all do this.  We see something at work or at home that we know needs attention.  It could be something that presents a safety risk or something that could be changed to make things better.  We convince ourselves that what we are observing is somewhat normal, or that we ourselves can’t fix it, and we let it be. Maybe the consequences won’t be as nationally devastating as what has happened at NASA, but it could be just as catastrophic on a personal level if the issue is important to you or involves someone with whom you have a close relationship.

The other guest speaker at the convention was country singer, Keni Thomas, former United States Army Ranger.    Keni was involved in the Battle of Mogadishu, think of the movie, “Black Hawk Down.” Keni’s message was that “you are only as good as your weakest link.”  You don’t get to choose the people you work with and you have the responsibility to help your employees, your colleagues, your family, to become the best they can be.  In Keni’s scenario, the person who was the weakest on the team, ended up in a position during the battle to save many lives, including his. I am planning to download his book, “Get It On!: What It Means to Lead the Way” for the flight home.  It should be an interesting read.

I know (and I suspect we all do), who the weakest links are in my life.  I know that when I think about these individuals and the situations they are involved in, that there are things I could do to help, but I look the other way.  I tell myself I am already too busy, its not my job.  That it is not my fault that they have made the decisions they have made, or continue to function in a certain way.  I have “normalized this deviance,” and with some folks I have been doing it for so long that the deviance is probably hundreds of micro-steps from "normal." These are things I feel subconsciously guilty about.  Being a change agent is not easy when it involves telling people what they do not want to hear, potentially taking a project off track or off budget, and dealing with the ensuing confrontations.  It is easier to be complacent, not to make waves, to just go on with your day. I didn’t need to listen to Keni Thomas or Mike Mullane to tell me that these things exist, just to remind me that not doing anything about it is a choice in and of itself.  I can’t consider myself to be a good leader at work or to be setting a positive example for my kids if I let these things go without making an effort.  I have had people along the way who have kept me on the right path and that wasn’t always easy.  I owe it to the people around me to make similar efforts with the “weakest links.” I recognize that I cannot change everything, but I can speak up and use the tools with which I have been equipped to at least try to make things a little better. 

Who are the weakest links in your life?  What are you going to do about it?

The conference, although exhausting at times, was a great four days that allowed me to reconnect with some of my amazing colleagues.  I am privileged to work with some truly great people.  Though I do love Florida, I can’t wait to get home and hug my boys tomorrow. 

Have a great weekend, everyone!