I Heart A Great Leader

I am not one for "I Heart" anything as a public declaration. We have been inundated with bumper stickers, mugs, hats, license plane frame that declare a wide variety of "I Heart" messages...from "New York" to "My Husband " to "My Terrier". Call me cynical, but they all make me cringe. "Really", I think, "That's just great...any why is it important that you let me know?".

I'm one of the last people you'd find wearing an "I heart" T-shirt, and yet I did so today.....at work.....in front of colleagues and students. It was a particularly worthy cause.

The Messiah College Concert Choir coordinated a tribute/fund-raiser for our College President, Kim Phipps. And for that, I donned an "I Heart K P"...T-shirt. And I did so because I am a big fan of the Concert Choir but also because I really do love the leadership of KP.

I was lucky enough to work directly with and then for her for a number of years and I was blessed with some very real but all too rare lessons in higher education leadership.

KP Lesson One: Invite Feedback Early and Widely. I was terrified of criticism when I began to work for her, but she taught me to see that feedback early was something to be invited not feared. I've learned, as a result, that feedback not only strengthens proposals but also helps to broaden a sense of ownership. It really does take a village...some strengthen through editorial revision..details...while others identify holes in the argument that need to be filled....still others note gaps in the proposal that need to be filled. This process broke down my perfectionism and, equally important, enhanced my productivity. Leadership does not happen in a vacuum. Good leaders don't sit in their offices and craft perfect policies in isolation. They draft...they get feedback....they fix.....they get feedback. In the process, the policies themselves get instituted but the team itself strengthens its work as a team....everyone contributes and sees him or herself as part of the whole. And the proposals get reviewed and critiqued by campus committees in such a way as to make them better. That is the essence of shared leadership and its core purpose.

KP Lesson Two: Encourage Ownership. This is one of those "I don't know how she does it" items, but someone Dr. Phipps creates a broad network of people who are enthusiastic and productive supporters of her vision. In fact, she is a visionary but her vision is crafted in a shared context. Somehow you'd find yourself working on a project that you loved but also knew that it fits into her larger vision. Her vision, too, is permeable...as new and good ideas come to her attention, they get incorporated into the larger whole. There is a strong sense of "we" in serving within her organization. Leadership, if it is to be effective, must be shared in higher education. Otherwise, there is no leading at all.

There are lots of reasons to love Kim Phipps as President, but these are a couple around the theme of higher education leadership that come to mind from my own experience. She's broadened my capacity to lead and fanned the flames of my enthusiasm for Messiah College.....for proof of her influence, look no further than my T-shirt....not to mention the T-shirt of hundreds of students on campus today.

On the Other Hand

There are moments when single parenting/house caring solo makes evident its gifts.

Today's gift: I fixed the shower/bathtub handle.

Big deal? you say. I think not. When things break around the house, it's overwhelming. I have to add rather than subtract from the already lengthy to do list. And I have to triage...what can I fix? what can't I? If I don't immediately know how to fix, can I learn. Outsourcing small repairs gets pricey fast. Moreover, I'm buoyed by my feminist sensibilities.


So, this week the shower handle broke. Argh. It landed in the "I can fix it" category. I removed the old handle and identified the source of the problem...the break in the plastic (this was easy). I took my handle to the hardware store to buy the right replacement. Came home to replace, and bummer...right size but wrong design. Back to hardware store to return.....they don't carry right design. Off to Lowe's. Brought in handle. Found right size and right design. Home again. Followed picture directions on back of package....installed upside down....removed...do over. Wa La. Fixed!

Yes, I felt a sense of accomplishment.

You might see a simple repair, but I see the results of being stretched. If I had a husband to fix these things (which sounds mighty good, I admit), I would not have to stretch myself. I would be able to focus on my own specialties in the house...like laundry and choosing color schemes (my feminist sensibilities are screaming). I would be able to defer to someone else's expertise. In short, I wouldn't be pushed to grow.

Taking care of a house alone is a bit like liberal education in this way. There are things I do not want to do, but they are required in the "general education curriculum" afforded by home ownership. Like the humanities undergraduate who doesn't believe they need to take math or science (that was me), I am forced to learn things beyond those that come easily. I have the opportunity to solve problems...that often at first seem unsolvable...that push me to identify and develop new methods, skills, and capacities.

I am thankful for my own liberal education....for pushing me to learn as the world learns, to enrich my capacity for problem-solving.

I am thankful too that my shower is fixed.

Life Lessons from an Unlikely Source

When I was in 8th grade, I wanted more than anything to be a 9th grade cheerleader. The coveted 6 spots on the cheerleading team were the coin of the realm for junior high, in a town that stopped everything else for football. I made the 12 finalists, and I remember the final try out. I recall most being unable to do the splits, flexibility not being my strength. The day the announcements came over the loudspeaker, I was a nervous wreck. The six names were read. The dozen red roses were delivered to each winner by the previous year's squad. I was crushed to be among the finalists whose names were not read and for whom the roses did not come.

At the end of 9th grade, I tried out for cheerleading for 10th grade...the first year of high school. I don't recall the try out, but again was disappointed in the outcome. In 10th grade, undeterred, I tried out for the Junior Varsity team. And, this time I made it. And I so wanted to be a Varsity Cheerleader my senior year that I asked a previous head cheerleader, Mary Ann, to help me.

I wrote the required original cheer and designed each move. I learned the required cheer, and practiced...and practiced. I showed up for try outs and remember feeling nervous but confident. I belted my cheer and seemed to really wow the judges. At the end of the try out, I was named Co-Captain of the Varsity Squad, which meant I'd scored second highest in the tryouts. I had set my sights on the goal and done all in my power to achieve it, including hard work and finding a coach.

I've often laughed at myself for wanting so greatly to be something which, in my older years, seemed to have little value. In fact, when a friend posted this picture to my Facebook page I commented "So embarrassing, and to think in high school being a cheerleader was my highest ambition". All these years later, I wonder why I didn't just spend my time with the theatre and music crowds...areas where I had obvious talent but were the realm of the "less cool". If only I'd have had the courage to focus on my real gifts at that precarious time in life.

There is one thing I've really undervalued though, a trait that was evident that transcends questions of coolness. I was really determined to become something and I chose not to let limitations like the 'splits" deter me from achieving my goal. Whatever happened to her! In fact, what made me a great Varsity Cheerleader was, in fact, not the splits (which I never could accomplish but in high school became the domain of the Song Leaders) but my ability to command a crowd of 5000. My theatrical ability, along with my persistence, served in my favor. I tapped into my gifts to achieve my aim.

Just last week I was notified that I did not receive entrance into our college's program for release time for ranked faculty to focus on scholarship. And while my notice affirmed my "promising scholarly agenda", the reason for denying my application was that my scholarship thus far hasn't reached the threshold for "meritorious scholarship". I was crushed. I've been a ranked faculty member for 6 months...just six months. In my 20 years as an administrator, I have done some solid writing but apparently not enough. When I uttered my disappointment to a colleague she said confidently, "you will". And I wondered why she so easily turned the corner to my reapplying in the future when I was stuck in the limitations of this particular “no”. At what point did I transition from hearing “no” to mean “not now” rather than “not ever”. When did “no” transition from a moment in which I had yet to display my potential (or others neglect to see it or the fit to be right) to one in which I internalized it to be the final word on my promise and potential.

I am a solid writer, but for a variety of reasons…some my own making but others belonging to external factor…I have yet to display that potential.

Apparently, My journey to becoming a cheerleader…and not just any cheerleader, the Varsity Co-Captain...offers some important lessons as I become a scholar. Now, that is something I honestly hadn’t imagined.

One Great Kid

Today, I was vacuuming and my son thought it'd be funny to scare me. So, he entered the room unnoticed and spit out a high pitch scream. I screamed at the top of my lungs(to his joy)and while I narrowly avoided yelling expletives I screamed some not-so-creative alternatives.."GOSH...DARN....IT". I wasn't happy. I hate when he does this, and I've told him so. It took a moment for my heart's beat to slow, and I said sternly... "Don't Do That! Do You Want your Mother to Have a Heart Attack?!!".

"That's not how heart attacks happen", he retorted, "We learned in science that heart attacks happen when cells die and blood can't get to the heart".

"It's official", I said with a growing grin,"I'm not smarter than a fifth grader".

On the better days...which really are most days...I count the many blessings of spending each of my days with my son. He's great. He's funny. He rolls with the punches of life. And helps me keep perspective.

Parenting Solo

There are days when I say and feel that single parenting is, if not great, then eminently doable. Today is not one of those days.

Today is a big fat reminder that single parenting is a misnomer. Doing it all alone is much more like it.

Gabe came home from his weekend at his dad's tired and cranky. He also came home exposed to a bug from his year old sister, which given his tired system unsurprisingly turned into full on illness. So, when on most days I find the courage and spirit to say it's ok, here's why today it just isn't.

Gabe's headache, fever, and belly ache kept him awake most of the night. My efforts to provide Tylenol, cold compresses, juice, back rubs, and the most soothing voice I could muster kept me up most of the night as well. There was no other parent with whom to team tag so we could each get some sleep, which I imagine gives each a better chance at offering the soothing voice to a sick kid. (I snapped a bit mid-morning). As I feel the bug myself, there is no one to care for Gabe while I rest. And there was no one to negotiate sharing sick-child care with as I considered my busy work day. Gabe had to come to work with me for the one meeting I could not cancel today. The other meetings had to wait.

And then the notion of single parenting doesn't begin to address the taking-care-of-a-household solo realities. As I dragged my sick kid to work, the "malfunction indicator light" came on in my car. Lovely. No one to ask to "take care of that for me". When we got home, I had to take the trash out. After I delivered the 3 bins of recycling and 4 trash cans to the curb....in the rain...I noticed a pile of dirt in the garage. My best guess is a critter had found his way into a new bag of top soil in my garage. Duck taping the whole, placing the top soil in new bag, cleaning up the mess......all mine. Coming into a house that's a mess reflecting my recent whirlwind work travel....during which I depended upon good friends and neighbors to care for my son since his father lives 90 miles away and thus can't host him on school nights. Parenting alone means that I pack not one bag but pack my kid up as well...my travel disrupts his living situation and reminds us both that our family life is not as God designed.

Yes, I know. Really, I do. I am blessed in many ways. I have a job that pays the bills, offers me sufficient flexibility to parent, and brings me meaning and joy most of the time. I have a few friends who help me out....a lot. I should focus on these things; after all, Thanksgiving is just a couple of days away. That reminds me. I have a turkey to buy and a house to clean. Maybe I'll just allow myself the gift of being sad and cranky for a day or so.