Secrets of the Puma Family

Working at one’s alma mater can sometimes be a challenge. The dual role as alumnus and employee is not always comfortable as the rose colored glasses often worn by alumni are tarnished by day to day drama that seems to be present in any workplace.

This weekend an unplanned reunion of the MOB at the 11:00 a.m. Mass in the College Chapel offered a gentle reminder to those present of the value of the Puma family. Just as the liturgical season of Advent calls us to pause and reflect upon the blessings of the past year and the gift of Christ’s birth, so too is it time to celebrate the Puma family.

No matter how ridiculous my student loan payments seem; no matter how many hours I spend working on Phonathon; no matter how frustrated students are with the quality of cafeteria food, at the end of the day we are all in this together. Whether alumni, faculty, current students, staff, coaches, sports fans, community members, or friends – we all have fond memories of SJC and the friendships made here.

Perfect harmony doesn’t exist in any family on Earth. But many families find ways to love and support one another all the same. Some might even go so far as to argue that the true measure of a strong family is the ability to celebrate each other despite the shortcomings. We do that at SJC.

Bennett Hall was old, musty, and lacked air conditioning – but it was our home. The equipment in our classrooms wasn’t always the most cutting edge—but we were instructed by professors, many of whom we call our friends. As staff we accept that some years we will go without raises—but experience true pride when our students (yes even if we don’t teach they are our students) graduate and become independent, productive, thoughtful members of society.

That’s the secret to the Puma family. That’s the gift of our founders, the Missionaries of the Precious Blood. We stick together, not because we all see eye to eye, but because we are bound by our shared experiences and use those experiences to celebrate our differences.

Veteran's Day 2010

To all the Veterans and those currently serving in the military, both at home and abroad, Thank you.

“America should be free ground -- all of it... No man has to bow. No man born to royalty. Here, we judge you by what you do, not by who your father was. Here, you can be something. Here, is the place to build a home. But it's not the land. There's always more land. It's the idea that we all have value -- you and me.

What we're fighting for, in the end, we're fighting for each other.”

“Addresses Maine Soldiers on What We're Fighting For” from Gettysburg
Colonel Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain [played by Jeff Daniels]

Despite whatever problems our country may have, none of the freedoms, rights, and privilages we enjoy would be possible without the Women and Men who serve us faithfully in the military.

To you, we offer our undying thanks.

Hang Up, For God's Sakes!

It’s ok to hang up the phone. Really, I'm giving you permission.

This week I’ve been at a conference, learning how to be a b etter fundraiser. One of the buzz words (or terms) right now in fundraising, as in every other field, is social media. We are connected than ever before the hoards of family, friends, co-workers, acquaintances, and even people from grade school that we haven’t seen or heard from in decades. If we’re fans we can learn what grinds Seth McFarland’s grears from his twitter account, or know that Lebron James had a rough practice from a facebook update.

But the question arises, where is the line? When does social media, i-phone apps, and the facebook-inter-google-tweet-net get the better of us?

Today I observed that line. And it was abused.

Between sessions I stepped into the men’s room to…well…you know… Anyway, so I enter the restroom which seems to be empty and find a nice corner urinal. All of a sudden, a man in a stall starts talking very loudly about travel plans to visit a client in Florida.

I observe very strict man-law while in the restroom…this is the only are of my life where I’m a fundamentalist through and through…so needless to say, I was a uncomfortable. In the time it took me to finish my business—the man in stall #2 finished his phone call and then…are you ready for this… started typing . The clicking of a keyboard is pretty unmistakable and I don’t care if it’s a laptop or a blackberry…that’s not the place to be sending e-mail. As I washed my hands the man apparently finished because he flushed and came out of the stall with a laptop bag slung over his shoulder and a Bluetooth headset in his ear.

What is wrong with people? If you are too busy to use the facilities without being connected…then you might have a problem. No one is so important that they can’t wait a minute for you to finish.

Just saying.

Up on the roof...

Last Saturday Katie and I joined members of the Men of Bennett (MOB) in a good old fashioned Amish-style roofing party. Yep, the MOB exercised our ability to not only destroy, but also to create as we helped the Millers re-roof their house.

The day started a bit shaky with an early morning shower and some concern for working on a wet roof.

But things dried up and we got to work stripping the old roof down the decking and replacing damaged boards with new. Then it was back to work tar-papering and shingling.

While it was hard work, we did have a lot of fun. Richard even got in a little afternoon yoga, as seen here executing what I’m told is called “Downward Facing Dog.” Smith just calls it “Indy Style.” But the work went quickly and we had some great food thanks to Steph and her dad, Steve. Jason’s dad, Don, was our fearless leader and provided much needed direction and advice throughout the whole process.

Beyond the sense of accomplishment one feels after a project starts to take shape, this weekend left me feeling a great sense of wholeness. I was reminded that neighbors, friends, and community are not just words used to identify people—they are concepts with real world incarnations.

We are often inundated by social scientists and political pundits that would have us believe that the world is spinning out of control and that no one looks out for each other any more. I disagree, and this weekend proved that communities can exist in more tangible ways than facebook groups and fantasy football leagues. I am energized by this and look forward to our next major project.

I was tired, Kirk was confused, Nate was thirsty, and only Katie new what to do.

AmeriCorps*NCCC: A Higher Education

Written and Delivered by Nicholas T. Schafer
NCCC North Central Region Graduation Vinton, IA
August 4, 2010


Thank you for inviting me to join you for this mornings exercises. And I’m very grateful that they didn’t include 5:30 a.m. PT.

The two years I spent in NCCC are never far from my mind. Team pictures hang on the wall in my home and office. I talk to my old teammates regularly, and occasionally send the random text to my TL asking her to take me to the doctor just for old times sake. [Pause]

My original plan was to tell you some of the great stories that came out of my service years. I wanted to tell inspiring stories about working with children who were labeled “special needs” only to find out that they had a better outlook on life that we could imagine. I would tell you about Habitat dedications where grown men wept as we handed their family the keys to their first new home. But then it dawned on me that you might not know my team or the communities that we served, but you do know my stories. Because they are our stories. And for me, that is the most inspiring thing of all.Even though we have served several years and many miles apart…by virtue of serving in this program we all know the excitement of leaving for a new spike, and the relief of returning to base for transition. We’ve successfully experienced shopping on a budget (thank you Dot White), and feeding a small army after a long day on a Habitat build. We’ve experienced the Forming-Norming-Storming-Performing-Storming-Performing-Storming cycle with our constantly evolving teams. We’ve been strengthened by the communities we served and met each other on common ground.

Our stories are unique, but we are bound together by the fabric of our shared experiences.

A few years ago I met Amity Tripp (National Director of AmeriCorps Alums) at a conference. I was there in the capacity of Program Director for an AmeriCorps*Indiana Environmental program – and we started talking about recruitment. Now I have to tell you, I get a little fired up when I start talking about AmeriCorps – and this meeting was no exception. After I had rattled on for a few minutes Amity politely interrupted and said, “May I ask, were you in NCCC?” “Yeah,” I answered, hoping that she too was an NCCC alum. “I though so,” she said. “What makes you think that,” I asked. “Well,” she said, “You all are a little crazy.”

Few times in my life have I been more proud.

The passion that NCCC inspires is not necessarily exclusive to our program, but as a group we tend to take it to the next level. I believe this so much that I’ve written a number of letter over the years to various state and federal Senators and Representatives. In 2007, I wrote, that

“NCCC teams are trained and ready to deploy quickly when disaster strikes. The tragedy of the Oklahoma City Bombing, 9/11 , Hurricane Katrina, and numerous smaller natural and un-natural disasters have seen the benefit of NCCC recovery efforts and have proven the readiness and value of NCCC Members. NCCC fills a unique niche for which other service programs (AmeriCorps or otherwise) simply cannot pick up the slack. NCCC represents the very best of AmeriCorps.”

I believe that it is this passion that fuels our commitment to service while actively engaged in NCCC. And it is that passion that drives us to serve in the years that follow.

NCCC is not an easy program. I will not make the mistake of assuming that everyone had the uplifting experience that I did. While I hope many of you did, and will miss your teams and the service you performed. I know that after 10 months of no privacy, 1 van, and 10 personalities, some of you might be ready to be away from your team. Others might be excited to never have to wear kahki and grey again. And still others might be looking forward to driving a vehicle where you don’t need a spotter to change lanes. (or back up without a ground guide).

I can say with reasonable certainty, however, that no matter how you feel right now your time in NCCC has been formative. Whether in lessons learned, friendships formed, or injustices realized…there is no going back. If it hasn’t already, your experiences from this year will change how you look at the world.

I often tell people that NCCC ruined me for business. Before NCCC my life had a plan. Finish my undergraduate degree, go to law school, marry a beautiful woman, take the legal world by storm, make a ton of money, attain enlightenment, write a best seller about attaining said enlightenment, and retire happily at 45. So that might be a bit of a stretch, but not by far.

After NCCC, my life and career had to mean something more than just making money. I’ve been in the public sector ever since I left Charleston, and I can’t think of any place I’d rather be. I may not have a pile of money, but I get by. A few years ago I met and last year married a beautiful girl – who also happens to be an AmeriCorps Alum. I’m lucky. Every day I work to make sure young people can afford to go to College, and I continue to fight substandard housing as the advisor of the campus chapter of Habitat for Humanity. I came to NCCC with a plan, and left with a purpose. I’ve found my way to continue to serve. That was my choice.

And so you now have a choice. This year can be just another page in the scrapbook, or it can be the year where you found yourself…and became involved for life.

You have experience, energy, and passion take that with you. Run with it. Whatever you do next, bring your NCCC confidence, compassion, and commitment. Live out the pledge each and every day. Fight apathy, build communities, and seek common ground. As the poet says, “be like the fountain that overflows, not like the cistern that merely contains.”

Because the reality is that, NCCC has only partially been about the past 10 months. NCCC is really about today. It’s about, “carrying this commitment with you this year and beyond.” No matter what your current education level—THIS has been your higher education. You’ve faced both success and disappointment as you’ve engaged in the challenging work of serving communities. You’ve learned from many teachers this year. Some are with me on stage, some in the staff section, some wearing green shirts right in your row, and many in the communities you leave behind. You’ve completed projects, and composed reflections. Now the rest of your life is the final exam.

In just a little while you all will join me and so many others in the ranks of the NCCC alumni. There have been some who’ve been in your shoes who mistakenly call life after AmeriCorps the “real world.” I am here to assure you that the world you’ve come to know over the past 10 months is in fact, a more real version of the world than many will ever see. And no matter what you do next, or how far you travel, your NCCC filter will go with you, allowing you to see the real world.

I know that it is unrealistic to think that everyone here will continue to work for non-profits. In fact many of you might have joined originally to beef up your resume. I can vouche that NCCC will look great on a resume, especially in a job market driven by blending education with experience. Team work, organization, discipline, these are qualities that will serve you well in college, graduate school, and both the public and private sector of the workforce. You’re time with AmeriCorps has prepared you well for what lies beyond.

But looking beyond your career, NCCC, has also been great preparation for the parts of life that you can’t put on a resume. You’ve learned new ways to live life as an active and involved citizen of the United States of America. This year, you’ve earned a degree in stepping up and getting things done. You’ve done this, so that next year when your residence hall wants to organize a service project; or your church wants to coordinate a food pantry; or your local Rotary club plans a trip to help rebuild after a hurricane – you will be perfectly suited for the task.

It doesn’t have to complicated or earth shattering, but your service whether public or private, matters. Whether enacting large scale change for the public good, or helping a neighbor, your service matters. During the Great Depression my wife’s grandmother worked hard to make sure that her family did not go hungry. Her sights were not so narrow, however, to abandon concern for her neighbors’ who were teetering on the brink of starvation. Grandma made conscious effort invite the neighbors for dinner or send over what she claimed were “extras” so that they would not starve. Her actions were not newsworthy, but they were noteworthy, and they had a tremendous impact on at least five lives.

How amazing would life be if we looked out for each other just one tiny little bit? AmeriCorps offers us a glimpse of what a world like that could look like. And that is the true NCCC legacy. Yes, we have left our mark, and have gotten things done for 16 years. But each time an alum continues to serve we broaden the umbrella of NCCC’s influence and impact.

When you go home and you tell people about what you did this year. Don’t expect them to get it. Oh, tell your stories, because they need to be shared. And many will tell you things like, “that’s great,” or “you’re really a good person.” But deep down, many people you tell about this experience just won’t get. Some of you might not even grasp the full magnitude of what you have just begun. But some of you do…and more of you will as you move on. You have begun a lifetime of service. You have begun to change the world. And tomorrow it’s up to you to carry on that commitment.

Thank you for your service this year, and thank you for all the good that I know you will do in the years to come.

Good luck. Safe travels.

Approximate time: 11 min. 25 sec.

Everything I learned in life I learned from watching Star Wars….

“This one a long time have I watched. All his life has he looked away... to the future, to the horizon. Never his mind on where he was. Hmm? What he was doing. Hmph. Adventure. Heh. Excitement. Heh. A Jedi craves not these things. You are reckless” Yoda, The Empire Strikes Back

It’s hard to say what is so intriguing and at the same time scary about the future. Yet, we often times are captivated by the possibilities, good or bad. Considering the time that is not now, but has not yet happened is often an activity which is significantly impacted by our current state of mind.

The future can be full of possibility if we are happy, excited, encouraged about the present, or if we are so disgusted by the present that we cling to the hope of a better tomorrow.

The future can be full of anxiety and fear if we allow ourselves to be consumed by the unknown threats that lurk in the shadows of tomorrow. Unseen expenses, medical problems, war, taxes, death, the end of the world, etc. – can and do plague our notions of the future from time to time.

But another wizened figure from my childhood echoed Yoda’s warning to look in a much more direct and practical way. When one of my siblings, cousins, or I would get worked up about something and really worry, my sainted Irish Grandma used to tell us, “don’t borrow trouble.” Simple as that.

- Don’t worry about failing your math test—just study hard, get a good nights sleep, and do your best, or

- Don’t worry about if the girl you like will marry you – ask her out and see how it goes from there, or

- Don’t worry about … well you get the point.

Grandma and Yoda would both agree that preparing for the future is a great idea. Save your money, do your Jedi exercise, eat right, study hard…but don’t let projections of a future that is uncertain dominate your entire world view. If you do that, you’ll miss the life that you’re so worried will be harmed by that big bad nasty old future threat.

I guess when it’s all said and done it really comes down to another marker on the path to finding balance. And we must remember that life and the quest for balance are a path—which must be traveled. In life we must remain vigilant for like the servants who do not know when the master will return…neither do we know when a significant opportunity in life or a realization of balance will occur.

De Mello has a teaches this very idea in the following parable:

“Is there anything I can do to make myself Enlightened?” asked the disciple.

“As little as you can do to make the sun rise in the morning,” answered the master.

“Then of what use are the spiritual exercises you prescribe?”

“To make sure you are not asleep when the sun begins to rise.”

– Anthony de Mello, S.J.

Similarly, de Mello speaks of remaining present in the moment. He writes:

“Where shall I look for Enlightenment?” the disciple asked.

“Here,” answered the master.

“When will it happen?”

“It is happening right now.”

“Then why don't I experience it?”

“Because you do not look.”

“What should I look for?”

“Nothing. Just look.”

“At what?”

“Anything your eyes alight upon.”

“Must I look in a special kind of way?”

“No. The ordinary way will do.”

“But don’t I always look the ordinary way?”

“No.”

“Why ever not?”

“Because to look you must be here. You’re mostly somewhere else.”

– Anthony de Mello, S.J.

Safe travels.

The 8 Ball

Last month, I took up semi-permanent residence behind the 8-ball. May and June are jam packed months in both the world of academics (with the end of the semester and graduation) and for fundraisers (as the end of the fiscal year approaches for many on June 30th). Since I am part of both worlds the reality that these months are chaos incarnate is inescapable.

Yet, in the midst of all 100 deadlines falling on the same day and being pulled in a million directions – I volunteered to help a couple of friends out with things they had going on in their lives – which ended up putting me even more behind schedule. When my ability to keep up was called to question it was pointed out that I might be doing too much.

There is one friend of mine who is famous for asking me if I’m doing too much. Over the years she has been a valuable resources and a guide along my professional path. Lately, many of our career – based discussions end with some reference to my taking on too much.

So here I am, aware of my busy schedule and seeking balance.

The irony here is that I often encourage hyper-involved college students to not be afraid to step back. Yet when it comes down to it I’m only marginally better at saying “no” than I was as a hyper-involved college students no so many years ago. But I know myself well enough to realize that there are reasons for this constant immersion.

= I believe that people don’t help each other enough anymore.
=Nurture – anyone who’s grown up with a big family knows that no matter your place in the rank and file you are expected to pitch in and help. When things need to be done it doesn’t matter whose project it is everyone settles in and lends a hand.
=Nature – Whether it is inspired by the reasons above or not, I come from a long line of servant leaders. Both of my parents are active in our lives, the lives of our extended family, our church community, etc. My grandparents were the same way and on and on. Helping people out is part of who we are.

I’m predisposed to help people out. I make absolutely no apologies for that habit, and am fiercely proud that service is such a part of the fabric of my family and upbringing. That said, like with all things there must be balance.

Is it really ‘service’ if helping people is fueled by guilt or compulsion?

No, probably not.

Is service pure and valuable if it is fueled by pride and ego?

I don’t think so.

In the final analysis it comes back to balance.

To be generous is good…to put your family in the poorhouse to help others is irresponsible.

To be a servant is good…to allow yourself to be exploited and abused is often times ill-advised.

To be other focused is good…to use that focus to avoid your own problems is unhealthy.

I guess it boils down to a notion that it’s not enough to simply think or say or do. There must be balance between action, motivation, impact, and meaning.

Walking Retreat - Day 3

Part III: Perspective
Tuesday May 18, 2010

Today I set out on the trip home. Last night I had a dream about work and woke with concerns over the upcoming events, and other quickly approaching deadlines. The progress made over the past few days seemed to evaporate as quickly as the water in this arid countryside. After collecting myself a bit, I realize that my jarring back to reality was inevitable. I also reminded myself that no matter how consuming work can be at times that we are all more than our jobs and titles. Human beings are dynamic and are governed as much by feelings as ideas and thoughts. No matter how logical we’d like to claim to be at our root we are driven by feelings.

I had a couple of hours to wait in the international terminal of the airport before my flight. So I used that time to watch people and think about my trip. As I walked around the terminal the complexity of life struck me like a mack truck. I saw families with children, an old man pushing his wife in a wheelchair, and people conversing in half a dozen languages.

There was no way to tell who these people were just from casual 3rd party observation. You could tell, however, that there were deep relationships, vibrant passions, differing opinions, and many more emotions present in the terminal. If I was still obsessing about the pile of work that was waiting for me I would have missed this reminder about the complexity and beauty of life and relationships.

I guess there really is something to living in the moment.

Walking Retreat - Day 2

The power of silence
Monday May 17, 2010

Since we’ve been traveling we’re pretty cut off from work and life at home – no phones, limited e-mail access, too far away to fix any problems at work, etc. The result is that we have plenty of time to just be ourselves and recharge. On this trip I took the opportunity to simply enjoy the silence and focus on being present in the moment.

Too often it seems that I spend so much time worrying about insignificant details that I miss the greater beauty of the experience. I’ve spent entire trips fretting over “camera” or “journaling” issues concerned with remembering/recollecting/or sharing the trip that I’ve missed out on experiencing the trip in the first place.

This time around I didn’t take one picture. I did write a bit, but at my leisure, not at the expense of being present in the moment. I spent more time that I can currently recollect just sitting on the patio with a glass of water or bottle of beer. No book, no conversation, not particularly watching anything, not particularly thinking about anything, just enjoying the day.

At one point Greg asked me if I was ok (presumably because I was so quiet).

Yes, it's the quite that I've been seeking.

The challenge will be returning to the noise.

Walking Retreat - Day 1

The next series of blog entries were written the old fashioned way (long hand on paper) during my most recent travels up north. I used the four days as a sort of “walking retreat” where my primary focus was reflection and rejuvenation. I feel that the experience was a great success.

Part I:
Sunday May 16, 2010

We find ourselves in Edmonton this morning after a whirlwind weekend of Scholarship Dinner and then an early flight out of O’Hare. It’s amazing what a few thousand miles and a reunion with family in a little house in the country can do for the soul. We’ve missed Greg, Kelly, and Jaxon very much, but our reunion has been seamless as if we’ve never been apart.

I am very thankful for the relationship I’ve found here with my in-laws. It seems almost effortlessly that we’ve quickly become a family. The best part is that my Mom and Dad get along famously with Kelly and Greg – and it’s very reassuring to have that extra layer of support and unity.

Being here, we’ve truly been able to relax. Distractions from work and the tedium of our routine are literally hundreds of miles away. No cell phones reception, no regular internet access, it’s been wonderful.

Here, in the Canadian west, I am reminded that life doesn’t have to be particularly complicated. Sure, if you focus on the minutia (which we all do at times) it can get overwhelming, but on another level life is a series of tough decisions that shape and form us. My life in the last year has changed drastically – for the better mind you – but still a fundamental shift has occurred and must be acknowledged.

As I’ve tried to make sense of life, the world, and my new place/role in it it’s become clear that we are far more than any one aspect of our life. We are more than our job or any labels assigned by others or ourselves. We are potentially all of these things and much, much, more. That is a very encouraging thought.

I have spent considerable time reflecting on the words of Mother Teresa who said, "Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today. Let us begin."

You don't get much more to the point than that.

Thanks for asking...

I've been reading a lot of the writings of Anthony de Mello, S.J. over the past couple of years. De Mello is famous for saying/writing things that are hard for us to hear. He admits it. In his wonderful book based on his retreat work de Mello famously says, "You're an ass. I'm an ass. And that's ok." It's a refreshing perspective and really the key to getting through his text. He is not an author for the easily offended. He challenges you each step of the way.

On the website dedicated to his teachings (http://www.demello.org/) de Mello offers "one minute wisdom" that are gentle guides to keep us in the right mindset for getting through the day. One of my favorites is this:

ADULTHOOD To a disciple who was always at his prayers the Master said, When will you stop learning on God and stand on your own two feet? The disciple was astonished. But you are the one who taught us to look on God the Father! When will you learn that a father or mother isn't someone you can lean on but someone who rids you of tendency to lean? – Anthony de Mello, S.J.

Isn't that a great sentiment? A parent is one who rids us of the tendency to lean. How true. I think back to my own family and parents. We were never pressured to be this or study that -- rather we were challenged to find what made us happy and pursue that to its end conclusion. Don't get me wrong we were all encourage to do something after high school and be mindful of grades--but those were more general guidelines.

In light of the upcoming holiday in honor of mothers I'd like to take a quick moment and say thank you to my Mom. I remember in high school Mom encouraged us to be well rounded and try many different activities so we could have a good foundation in a lot of different things. Her theory was simply that we had the rest of our lives to specialize as an artiest, athlete or academic but high school was a good chance to diversify the interest portfolio.

One thing that will always stand out in my mind is that it was common for Mom (and Dad) to ask about our day. No matter how tired, busy, or frustrated they may have been with thier life they always asked my sisters, brothers, and I about our day and what happened at school. And they were genuinely interested. They wanted to know what was going on with us, what bothered us, and what got us excited about life. They even encouraged us to take an interest in each other's lives -- enven encouraging the more extroverted ones (like myself) to learn to be quiet and listen.

Beyond the formal encouragement Mom and Dad both offered us wonderful examples of selfless giving and commitment to serving others. For most of my high school and college career my family (along with a couple of my aunts, uncles, and cousins) provided 24/7 care for my Grammie (a formidable woman in her own right) in her final years. Mom worked 3rd shift full-time at a hospital 60 minutes from home, covered shifts with Grammie, managed a household of 6 kids, and was pregnant with number 7 for 9 of the last 18 months that Grammie was alive. Non-stop.

In addition to the super-human feats of organization and juggling, Mom was also half of a dynamic duo that just celebrated 30 years of marriage last month. THIRTY YEARS. You just don't hear about too many of those kinds of marriages any more. But here they are, my parents, still together and still having fun.

The point I'm trying to make is that my brothers, sisters, and I have been blessed to have great examples and champions in our parents. They genuinely cared about us and each other. No matter what happens we know that we have thier love and support, and that is a tremendous gift. It wasn't until I left home and was serving in AmeriCorps that I learned just how wonderful our home was growing up.

Thanks Mom (and Dad).

College is Real Life...with training wheels

It's that time of year again when the students pack their cars and head off into the world. Some leave our corn-husked halls as graduates who will only come back for visits at Homecoming and Little 500. Some will leave and due to a variety of circumstances will not be able to return. Some, however, will return in the Fall to pick up right where the left off.

As Pumas leave campus I reflect on my own college experience. At the time I was so ready to get out into "the real world." We all were, and we talked about it all the time. It was a slippery slope and if not careful college can become, in essence, a four year conversation about what you're going to do next. The danger here is that you focus so much on the future that you forget to enjoy the past.

When we had these discussions about "the real world" my friend used to get really frustrated. "College is the real world," he argued. At first I just thought he was being ridiculous, but the more I thought about it the more it made sense. In many respects college is like the larger world -- only in smaller format. My adaptation to Angelo's thoery is that, "College is real life...but with training wheels." This is true at least at places like SJC where students are allowed to be adults, make their own decisions, and make thier own mistakes -- but with the safety net of having people around who care about them and will help when needed.

This is part of what makes college great.

The sad reality is that so many don't fully realize or utilize the gift of a safety net until they are out in the workforce and become independent. Then it's too late. Employeers are not as forgiving as professors when deadlines are missed, and landlords aren't as patient with angry parents when "Jonny's lost paperwork" means a housing application isn't filed on time. Extended adolecense is creeping from a cynical thoery into a commonly accepted reality and rooting itself to the psyche of American families.

But in college the safety net exists -- so that students can learn, make mistakes, have some successes, and ultimatly grow. I loved college, it was some of the best 4 years of my life. But by the time graduation rolled around I was ready to walk the tight rope without a net.

In tribute to the simple joys of college life and community living I present the following poem written originaly in 2000 or 2001 as part of a Creative Writing Poetry class I took under the direction of Dr. Bill Mottolesse. The poem was inspired by William Carlos William's piece This is just to say. Enjoy.

Note to a College Roommate

I have eaten
the pizza
that was in
the fridge

which you were
probably saving
for a drunk
snack

Damn,
it was delicious
perfect
and cold.

Inspired by William Carlos Williams’ “This is Just to Say”

M.O.B. 4 Life

Two weeks ago campus turned upside down for two days as we celebrated the annual Little 500 Go-Kart Race. Over the years I’ve been hit or miss interested in Little 5. I’m not a huge racing fan and grew out of the “need” to drink for three days straight that the event represented during my college days.

This year, however, the MOB descended on campus in great numbers to offer our support of Car #5 – Green Lightening Racing. In addition to the driver being the younger brother of our two buddies Green Lightening Racing is also the unofficial Bennett Car. It was good to see so many MOB back for the event and to catch up with everyone, but there was more at work than a reunion of old friends.

As my buddy Todd mentioned in his post Car #5 the convergence of the new and the old MOB was a monumental event and illustrated the certainty that the spirit of SJC is alive and kicking. As the MOB alumni returned and shared their stories, we interacted with current MOB and heard some of their stories. In this age of individualism and independence there is still a need for people to gather and support one another – and that is very much a part of the MOB experience.

In fact, I’ll let you in on a little secret about what makes the MOB special. It isn’t about where you physically lived on campus, what you studied, or where you partied. The central tenant of the MOB worldview is loyalty and friendship. It’s about belonging to something bigger than yourself and having a group of people who looked out for one another – that’s it – loyalty and friendship.

Once upon a time at Saint Joe these communities existed in every dorm on campus (and on college and university campuses across the world) – Bennett, Noll, Merlini, Gallagher, and even Siefert. Now the reality is that times, as the saying goes, have changed and the overt communities have seemingly dissolved. But I think if you look hard enough you will realize that the spirit of unity just might still be present at SJC. The dorm based communities may no longer exist, but there are new affinity groups to which people belong with similar fervor. This gives me hope.

For critics of this millennial generation to quickly write them off as self-centered and disloyal would be a mistake. The current college students have what it takes to bring back tight-knit communities, now it’s just a matter of doing it.

Good luck to the MOB: The Next Generation.

Yee-Haw, eh?

I always hoped that if I met a cowboy it would be someone like Sam Elliot. You know the reluctant hero from all those westerns, someone quiet, grizzled, and meaner than dirt to anyone who looked at him-except an old yellow dog who he’d love more than the bad guys he’d shoot. Well I haven’t met that guy yet (I still have high hopes), but I have met some cowboys. A few years ago I even met a Canadian Cowboy. My buddy Greg is everything it means to be a cowboy—I mean a real cowboy. Sure he lives on a farm with horses, drives a truck, and has a huge yellow dog, but he’s more than that. Greg is a cowboy at his core. He’s got guts and seems to have an unwavering compass that helps him stay the course and sift through some of life’s trickier twists.

Last year I received a book from Greg called, Cowboy Values by James P. Owen. The book is great and could have been written by Greg himself. In the book Owen takes a critical look at the culture of the American West and the role that the cowboy traditionally played in the formation of that society. Owens paints a beautiful picture of the American Spirit and idealizes in the image of the cowboy. In his examination of our staple heroic icon Owen identifies seven Cowboy Values that he says are fundamental to the cowboy way of life.

The one that I continue to return to is the very first value: courage.

When Greg sent me Cowboy Values I was at the very beginning of a new chapter in my life. New responsibilities and a fear of the unknown were heavy on my mind, and more than once Greg (and others) worked to help me keep things in perspective. But of all the advice I received during that time I continue to return to the lessons about courage in Cowboy Values.

Owen writes that Courage is not just something you either have or you don’t, like everything else it grows. It grows from:

• Acknowledging fear and confronting it head-on
• Accepting risk, change, and failure as part of life
• Persevering despite the odds
• Standing up for what we believe
• Enduring hardship and adversity without complaint
• Being willing to make tough choices
• Living the life we want

As I reflect on these pearls of wisdom I find myself staring in the face of my fearful youth. They all seem so simple and evident when written down in bullet point. Even know it’s hard not to think, “Well yeah, of course that’s what it means to have courage.” But putting words and thoughts into action is another matter entirely. Think about it – the 10 Commandments, the 8 Fold Path, the 5 Pillars of Islam, the Beatitudes, etc. are all simple lists of how we should live and yet the application of these divine bullet points have eluded humanity for ages.

And so here we are faced with bullet points.

Courage involves things that we want: guts, a label as tough and capable, and even sometimes fame and glory. On the other side of the proverbial coin courage also requires us to taunt our fears, flirt with hardship and adversity, and sometimes even accept failure. This side of the coin is not so easy for us to accept. But as Greg reminded me, without the risk of failure (and past failures) you’ll never be able to fully appreciate the great things that do happen.

I tend to take myself a little too seriously sometimes and add to that my general passion for life and what I think is right and wrong – and there’s a recipe for inner turmoil. At a time when my courage seemed to be faltering Greg reminded me in a no-nonsense way that life sometimes just sucked and there were only two things you could do about it – let it beat you down (the easy way) or keep on going (the right way). Put in such simple terms there really wasn’t much of a choice for me and I simply chuckled and kept going.

The courage, optimism, self-reliance, authenticity, honor, duty, and heart of the cowboy is an ideal that made the American west a place where heroes were real and people looked out for each other. These are all traits that each of us strive for in our daily lives and we need look no further than our shared culture to find examples of these values in action today.

When I married Katie last October Greg became family. It seemed so natural that this Canadian Cowboy would join the ranks of my heroes, a group made up of EMTs, nurses, soldiers, actors, firefighters, teachers, USAF pilots, AmeriCorps Members, plumbers, farmers, and many more. Without his advice, support, and the occasional kick in the ass I wouldn’t have weathered the storms so well. I don’t know if I can ever say thank you enough—but I can say that I’m a better person for having this Canadian Cowboy in my life.

I’m still holding out to meet Sam Elliot in a bar someday, but I guess that will have to wait.

http://www.cowboyethics.org/

Frayed Ends

When you sit down and really think about it there is a lot of noise banging around inside our heads. Most days it makes my head hurt just thinking about the many people, products, causes, etc. that try to demand our attention and support. As Americans we are inundated from an early age with so many options of what we can do it is no wonder that so many feel as though they are drowning in a sea of possibilities.


As a member of a generation raised on possibilities, I cannot escape the reality of making choices. Many choices. Difficult and mundane choices that may or may not significantly impact our lives, but must be made regardless.


Part of the problem, as I see it, is boundaries. When children show an aptitude in a particular area (academic, athletic, artistic, etc.) they are encouraged to continue developing a love for or literacy in that area. On the surface, this sounds great - but more often than not encouragement quickly becomes overwhelming pressure.


Last week I was asked to assume a leadership position in a local volunteer civic organization that focuses on service and community improvement. After some serious thought I decided that between work, advising the college chapter of Habitat for Humanity, and my involvement in two other volunteer organization that a leadership position was not the right choice--at this time. When I explained this to the incoming President (who was trying to recruit me) you'd have thought I kicked his favorite puppy. He pulled out all the stops and laid down a guilt trip that would have made any Catholic School Nun or Jewish Grandma proud.


I stuck to my guns and remain simply a member at large in the club.


But this incident got me thinking. In my current position it's not uncommon for me to interact with some of the best and brightest students on our campus. Over the past three year's I've told a number of hyper-active college students that it's ok to say "no" once in a while.


We all have a breaking point and part of our "highest education" is learning where that point is and respecting it. I'm not talking about pushing boundaries in order to grow, rather I'm talking about the point at which we are so busy trying to be everything for everyone that all of our projects suffer. Then we become nothing to anyone.


At some point in the growing up process we must learn where our limits.


Please understand that I am not advocating complacency. We are perfectly capable of pushing our limits and growing to achieve things that we never imagined possible -- that's an essential part of the human condition. But such achievement means a great deal of work, vision, and drive. Those who do achieve such feats of accomplishment, though, already understand what I'm writing about. In order to say yes to one area of life we must sometimes say no to others. This choice is not easy, but it is necessary, and the sooner we come to grips with that the better off we will be.


In the end it comes back to balance. We can encourage, but it can quickly become pressure. We can achieve, but it too can become a drug. We can embrace all, and feel vastly lonely.


We possess the power to choose. While this can be a frustrating blessing, it is also a sacred curse, one that our forbearers fought and died to secure on our behalf. The right to choose our own path in life is something that we seem to take for granted. When we speak of our rights, our choice, or our opinion we use words like "God given" and "inalienable" implying their certainty. But our ability to choose has come at a steep price and we must honor that price with action.


We have been given a great inheritance, but with that great gift comes a challenge, for we must learn to live with the choices we make.