Beyond Labels
May 21, 2010
An author, enigma, husband, lazy, philosopher, stupid, intelligent, uncle, dreamer, kind, father, sincere, creative genius, son, public speaker, radical, friend, loving, designer, liberal, conservative, insightful, extremist, smart ass, brilliant, idiot, businessman, brother, left-wing, right-wing… these are some of the words and labels people have used to describe me over the past year. Some have been shared directly, others behind my back. While some labels are more objective and useful to communicate, others are subjective and open to interpretation. Notice the contradictions in my labels? That’s because they are projections. Labels reflect as much about the labeler as they do the person being labeled. Since I put little merit in subjective labels, I try not to let them influence my thinking. As people we are more than labels… and reality always trumps words.
While labels simplify the world, provide context and help us organize our thoughts, they don’t define reality. In business, people are given titles to describe a role or position. These labels don’t describe who they are, or what they’re capable of doing. The same holds true with children. Have you ever heard a conversation along these lines?
“My daughter is gifted… she’s in all the advanced classes!”
“That’s wonderful, my son is LD… actually, he’s ADD… and in special classes.
“My oldest son is ADHD and he went on to college. My daughter is average… she’s getting by in regular classes… if she worked harder she could be in AP courses.” Read more
Being a Good Samaritan
April 28, 2010
What ever happened to being a Good Samaritan? Last week in New York, Hugo Tale-Yax, a homeless Guatemalan immigrant, was stabbed repeatedly in the chest while saving a woman from a knife-wielding attacker. Then he fell to the sidewalk, bleeding to death as dozens of people walked past. While some turned their heads to catch a glimpse, others actually stopped to gawk and talk. One guy stopped, rolled Tale-Yax onto his side, saw the puddle of blood, and then kept walking. Another person actually took a photo before moving on!
“HOW CAN PEOPLE WALK BY A DYING PERSON AND NOT HELP?” outraged citizens ask in utter disbelief. “WHAT’S THE WORLD COMING TO?” dismayed talking TV heads ask… acting as if this were something new.
According to social psychologists, Mr. Tale-Yax was the victim of a psychological phenomenon called “the bystander effect.” I first learned about this in a college sociology class. Back then it was called the “Genovese syndrome” named after the infamous 1964 rape and murder of Kitty Genovese in Queens. Dozens of people witnessed her attack and heard her screams but did nothing to stop it… let alone report it.
It seems the greater the number of bystanders, the less likely it is that any one of them will help a person in need. Research shows that individual bystanders monitor fellow bystanders to try and determine if it’s necessary to intervene. When no one takes action, they all conclude their help isn’t needed. Some individuals assume that another bystander will intervene… and as a result, no one intervenes. Many individuals assume that another bystander is more qualified, so they don’t bother getting involved. Certain bystanders are concerned about “losing face” in the eyes of the others… while some fear legal consequences should they offer their assistance. Read more
Happy bEARTHday!
April 20, 2010
Years ago I met a guy named Noel. Noel was his first name—and he hated it. “Since I was born on Christmas, my parents thought it was an appropriate name,” Noel told me. What he hated more than his name was his birth date. “We can never celebrate ‘my day,’ it’s always overshadowed by Christmas,” he explained. Noel wasn’t a very happy person. It was rare to see him smile. I don’t know if it was his name, his birth date or something else… but his attitude did seem to worsen during December.
My birthday falls on April 22—Earth Day. Because I was in 6th grade when the first Earth Day was celebrated, my parents weren’t tempted to name me Eartha, Fern, Gaia, Ocean, Zoe… or some other Earth-related name. But if they had, I don’t think I would have minded. What’s in a name—right? Unlike Noel, I’m glad my birthday falls on an important date—especially this one. I love the concept of Earth Day and feel honored to share “my day” celebrating it. I consider it my bEARTHday, so to speak.
We have no control over where and when we are born, or what we’re named, for that matter. While we don’t control the circumstances we are born into, we do choose our responses, attitudes and actions. In other words, our choices create our lives. Our choices also affect the Earth. Hopefully as we’re creating our lives, we are also creating a better world. Think about it—without Earth, we have no place to live. We couldn’t exist. Recognizing this fact, can you think of anything more important than caring for our planet? I can’t. That’s why I’m committed to being a responsible Earth citizen.
For me, this commitment is easy. Not only is it logical, it’s natural, too. It resonates with my soul. I realized long ago when something resonates with your soul, it’s important to embrace it. That’s why I speak out against corporations that pollute our planet, deplete our resources and mistreat people, animals… and nature. Yes, I believe in capitalism… but not at the expense of our earth and its inhabitants. That’s why I support “green” businesses.
Doing what’s right and challenging the status quo takes courage… but when we don’t make good choices and don’t challenge those who pollute and mistreat our planet, we become part of the problem.
REDUCE, REUSE, RECYCLE… but mostly… RESPECT our planet. “We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them.” I agree with Einstein… and the time is NOW. We need to start thinking differently and creating new sustainable Earth-friendly solutions. The status quo has lost its status. Let’s make certain future generations can experience this miraculous living planet filled with its endless beauty and wonder. Together, WE can make this world a better place. Happy Earth Day!
Being Present
April 8, 2010
A mother and her two children were seated a few tables away from my wife and me last night at dinner. The mom looked to be in her late 30s, her son around 14, and her daughter a few years younger than him. Perhaps it was because we were sitting in the corner or maybe it was just an acoustical phenomenon of sorts, but despite the relatively loud music, we could hear their conversation—perfectly.
The mom’s remarks were short, but she seemed very focused on proper protocol… sit up straight, shut your mouth, sit still, leave your sister alone, use your fork, be quiet, ignore him, don’t speak that way… and so on. Then I glanced over to discover her real focus—a mobile phone. She was texting and didn’t want to be disturbed. Sadly, she continued doing so throughout the entire dinner. Try as they might, neither kid could get her to join them in their world—the real world. Both were vying (unsuccessfully) for her attention.
I tried ignoring them, but it was difficult. She was oblivious… unaware that some day she would look up and they’d be gone. I felt compelled to go over and explain to her that whatever it was she was texting about would almost certainly pale in comparison to spending this special time with her two offspring. But I didn’t. “Maybe it takes grown children to be aware of these things,” Anne suggested. She’s probably right.
Even so, this mom seemed blind to the fact that precious moments only appear once—then they’re gone—forever. That’s how moments work. Each one is uniquely special… and then it’s gone. Life happens with or without us. Our kids grow up, our peers and loved ones move on and eventually we all die… that’s reality. Life exists within each moment… and when we aren’t present, we miss it.
We can’t travel back in time and do it again. In life there are no “do-overs”… this is it. The past and future exist only in our minds… the present is our only reality. Whether it’s business, family or a random encounter with a stranger… don’t waste your precious moments not being present. Reality is right now… this moment. For both the giver and receiver, being present is the greatest present of all… a real gift.
Blind to Blindness
March 14, 2010
Anne and I met Claire the first day we moved into our new apartment. Having lived in the building for nearly 20 years, she was a wealth of knowledge. Claire appeared to be in her mid-60s, so we were surprised when she told us she had just turned 78. She attributed her youthful appearance to her diet and the fact she walks her dogs several times a day—one dog at a time. When she found out we were animal lovers, she let us in on a little secret. “According to the building’s bylaws you’re only supposed to have up to two dogs… but I have three,” she whispered. Then she continued, “I know I’m breaking the rules, but my three guys don’t bother a soul and I take darn good care of them.” Claire was charming… and no doubt, her dogs were well cared for.
The next day I saw Claire walking one of her dogs. I smiled, waved and said good morning. To my surprise, she just stared at me. Her warm smile and friendly demeanor were missing. That evening, I shared my experience with Anne. “Maybe she was deep in thought?” That was possible but it didn’t seem likely. “Plus, she actually looked a bit angry,” I added. When Anne pointed out that I might be over analyzing the situation and that I can sometimes be a bit overly sensitive… I concluded she was probably right.
But her theory was quickly dispelled the following morning when Anne and I both saw Claire on one of her walks. We smiled, waved and said, “Good morning… it looks like it’s going to be beautiful today!” Claire not only didn’t respond… she actually looked irritated and turned away. We couldn’t believe it. “Did you say something yesterday that could have offended her?” Anne asked. I certainly couldn’t think of anything. A few days later a similar encounter took place… and then again a day after that. I was growing tired of going out of my way to be nice, only to be shunned. Read more
Sleep-Deprived Samaritan
March 2, 2010
In 1977 I was working part time at an auto body shop while attending college. Since I was paying for my education, I jumped at the chance to drive the shop tow truck (wrecker) and make some extra cash. My employer had arrangements with the county police to have an operator available 24/7. So after hours and on weekends, I was on call. Depending on the situation, towing services typically cost between $20 to $40 dollars—and I received half. Considering my circumstances, the money was significant.
That winter was unprecedented. The number of consecutive freezing days and snowfall set an Illinois record and resulted in 62 deaths and more than 2,000 injuries. I was kept very busy.
One morning the shop received so many calls about stranded motorists, abandoned vehicles and accidents, I decided to skip class and keep working. The local radio station and newspaper warned residents to stay inside unless it was an emergency. They said if you absolutely had to travel be certain to carry a first-aid kit, flashlight (extra batteries), blankets, waterproof matches, a sack of sand, a shovel, tool kit, tow rope, booster cables, compass… the list was as extreme as the weather. Since cellular phones weren’t around back then, you had to think before venturing out.
By the end of the day I was beat. I arrived home and started taking off my boots when the phone rang. It was the county police: “This situation has gone from bad to worse… get back out there and start towing in any and every vehicle in sight.” Apparently the number of stranded vehicles was making it impossible to plow—not to mention dangerous.
I grabbed a sandwich and went back to work… and continued working for nearly 40 consecutive hours. Before long I had pulled in enough vehicles to pay for an entire semester of school. Financially, the blizzard seemed like a blessing to me.
At some point, as my boss was writing reports on all the frozen vehicles that had filled the parking lot, it hit him… “How long has McMillan been working?”
“Wrecker Boy, Wrecker Boy, do you copy?”
That was my “handle.” The older shop guys gave it to me. They found it funny. I didn’t mind. Even if I had, it wouldn’t have mattered—the police called me “Wrecker Boy,” too.
“I read you… over,” I responded.
“What’s your twenty?”
The radio was breaking up. I tried adjusting the squelch control but to no avail. “I’m not certain… out in the country… some place west of town,” I replied. I had strategically pulled in the vehicles closest to the shop first, then slowly worked my way further and further into the country… off the beaten path.
“It’s time you bring that damn wrecker in and get some rest.”
He was more right than he knew. I was exhausted and in desperate need of rest. Read more
Fragments of Johnny Cash
February 3, 2010
I never met Johnny Cash in this lifetime, but in a way, I feel I know him well. Shortly after his death, a friend of mine was hired to produce a pictorial biography about his life. After remarking, “I don’t have much time or a big budget, but I still need some great images,” he asked if I would do him a favor and create photographic still lifes of what Johnny had left behind. Spending days intimately walking through Johnny Cash’s life… his personal notes, poems to his wife, unfinished lyrics, sketches, photos, guitars, correspondence, passports, calendars, albums, clothes, bible scripture tests… memories and clues to nearly every piece of his life… didn’t really feel much like a favor at all. So I agreed.
As promised, I was left alone and given total access to “be creative.” Staying focused and on task was difficult. The amount of material was vast and my mind wandered like a school kid in class. I was so hyper-focused on the subject matter, the assignment seemed meaningless.
At first I felt a little uncomfortable… like I shouldn’t be reading his personal notes, handling his guitars, or messing with his stuff… like his boots or blue jumpsuit from San Quentin! But then I realized Johnny kept all these things for a reason. Collectively, they represented him… his memories, thoughts and special moments on earth. Some were fragments… personal pieces of a complicated puzzle, clues from an unconventional life. Many of his notes, sketches and lyrics were scribbled out on random sheets of paper, crossed out, rewritten, edited, and often left unfinished. It was these pieces that I connected with most. The fragments… ideas he had worked on but never finished. The idea seeds… the work in progress… the unsolved mysteries that we all carry with us throughout our lives… hoping to someday find them a home. Read more