Kouzes ch. 7 exercises

On December 21st, 2012 [my birthday if you must know] the world is going to end.

We like to call them "freshy's" and if they survive to their second year, we call them semi- pros.

It's an audience in a well lived in, well loved room.

I call them the future.  I call me, the faint and fragile passing leaf of time.  I am no mystic.  I am no scholar.  I am no expert.  I, am only a fellow traveler.

I call them babies.

I've been on panels before- student panels.  But this one is different.  It has yet to take place.  All the other times I've done this, it didn't feel right.  I wasn't thinking clearly.  I wasn't thinking of hope.  You aren't worth much if you can't think of a life and a world without hope.  I wasn't worth much.

So I rehearse and rehearse- in my head.  And this is what came out.

This life isn't meant for everyone.  I'm not trying to discourage you.  I'm being honest.  This place is unforgiving if you don't have hope.  If you don't have fight.  If you aren't willing to exile yourselves from your loved ones, your home, your land, then you have no business being here.

Learn to love from a distance.  Learn poetry because it will help you communicate your love- one mile away or a thousand miles away, it helps make that love real.

Learn to cope.  Allow yourself to daydream- to fall in love.  To fall out of love.  practice those first lines.  practice poetry.  Learning to fall in and out of love is the beginning of any dream and it's epic-ness.

Learn to smile at people even you don't feel like it or are in too much pain.  Everybody has to be the perfect stranger at least once in their life.  You never know you could be helping to save someone's life.

If you haven't cried yourself to sleep, wept bitterly, yelled at God/ the Creator, inexhaustibly lonely,  felt piercing pain while in college- that says something about your passion and character.  It says that you aren't ready to fight, you're distracted, and that you have no business being here right now.

Men- learn to cry.  It's the manliest thing you could ever do.

Learn the art of the hug, the high five, and self depreciation, and you'll find that surviving is bearable.

This is my story.

And for now it's a good story.

Listening exercises Kouzes ch. 6

1. generate power

"I think. . .  that you are a better writer than Sherman Alexie..."

There's a statement.

It made me highly uncomfortable and somewhat insecure.  But to this day, it gives me strength and confidence.

"You shouldn't count on writing to make a living."

Talk about killing a dream.  Talk about no faith.  I didn't know how to respond so superficially I agreed, fighting the spite and intelligent thoughtful rebuke only to shrug and whisper "yeah you're right."

It was Christmas Stroll 2009.  It's an ungodly -something something degrees below zero, frybread frost, and milky butter fill our lungs with warmth- not very pleasant after rifling a 10 hour day reinventing a sweat- shops flipping dough.  Then Crisis hit.  Our demand wasn't keeping up with the demand.  We had more frozen dough than product and the  line is swelling.  Our adviser's blood pressure alone is shooting the earth's temperature more and nobody gives a rip beyond the natural misery already dealt.  As thimble and clumsy as we are, exposed and exhausted- we all begin to scramble.  The lot of us is about to get vicious and go back to our savage demonic ways of yesteryear.  We begin plotting about who's business establishment and who's stands' circuits we're gonna blow out. We hop scotch around establishment after establishment and even into local bars where the Snaps and Egg Nogg look far more appealing to inquire about the use of their ovens.

The spirits were not with us.

Then I happened upon the portable heater- powered by a cord and propane and possessing a wicked mean fan.  calculated and with the little composure I had left I tried to flicker on the propane.  I can't do it.  My adviser comes over and activates it.  Then we're back in business.  I risk limb and health to run the huge industrial aluminium baking pans padded with the frozen dough patties over and over the propane heater.  Everyone else catches on and soon enough all the helping hands come into play.  one comes to hold the pan.  one comes to navigate the heater.  one even comes to warm my hands and dump hot cocoa down my throat. The kids up front have a extra bounce in their step and even are laughing and trying to rendition Christmas carols now.  It's still a priceless scene.

I didn't know any better than anyone else and I wasn't going to get hyper masculine stupid to try to prove it.  Any idea was the best idea.  There wasn't any type of micro- managing [or coercive leadership] we let everybody try to go into the bar to hit up their uncle Pooky to try to allow us to use their outlets if not their ovens.  It was a solve the problem as quick as possible and I wasn't about to tell anyone they were stupid for trying.  In the end it's just that we all tried too hard.  Everyone felt empowered and apart of streamlining the whole process.  We all accepted equal responsibility and weight on trying to solve the problem. In the end, it just turned out that I took one extra breath than everyone else.

If there is too much craving for certainty- I think it's legitimate to say that there is too much comfortable, no one will care to listen.  This was for a good cause.  There was excitement, and a bit of detriment, and everybody was forced to take action.  The delegation was voluntary.  I should say that this situation shouldn't be ideal for every event, etc.. but we just asked people to be creative and to act upon it.

3- 4 actions of enabling others to be successful:

1- keeping the vision/ bigger picture in mind
2- knowledge, ability to communicate purpose and goals
3- strong emotional intelligence to inspire/ articulate/ motivate [i.e. authoritative style of leadership]

6 questions to ask in first meetings:

1- who's your favorite Indian??? ok, no. . .  where are you from?
2- who are your people?
3- what/ who is the most important person/ thing in your life and why?
4- what do you hope to gain from this?
5- what is your passion and what makes you come alive?
6- what are obstacles you think might get in your way on the path to success?

I would ask these questions because they implicate the heart and not the potential.

Co- led class- Emotional Intelligence

I saw the blank slot- all three of them actually so that prompted me to sign up for the class.

As I thought about it, it seemed intimidating at first.  For whatever reason, be it worldview, personality type, age even, or just the age old curse of being really passive [or really shy].  That’s what was my mentality going into the whole thing.  As they say it’s better to be fearful than arrogant and over confident.  Plus working with two more than likely ambitious, motivated, and driven ladies really had me re calibrating the whole situation.

They were great.

Emotional Intelligence was a great opportunity because I’ve been told I possess a decent amount of it and I was curious as to why some would diagnose me as such.  It was an interesting process just learning about EI in this particular setting of leadership because I find emotional intelligence fascinating in general in the relational aspect.  Previous inquiries have told me that women possess a far more greater capacity to be emotionally intelligent than men.  As the two articles were presented I could easily see the primary audience of this topic being men as males [in my strictest opinion] hold most top leadership/ executive roles.  And one of the causes of “derailment” being lack of interpersonal relationships  among male executives, I found this to be an opportune time to observe this phenomenon in a class room of a statistically proven high EI group.

The results were somewhat surprising.

Some of the activities we had planned went according to “plan”, while some others I noticed a more and highly sensitive empathy tactic was deployed.  The most surprising bit being when groups were prompted to vote off a member; the outcast was quite okay and actually advocated for self removal because of the skill set in which they possessed implying that they had the best chances to survive.  A keen framing/ contextual effect was used here and I thought that was awesome.  I don’t think I would have approached it the same way honestly.  There was far less confrontation in this particular stage of the main activity as well [the Relatedness and Fairness sections] than anticipated and expected.  That was the one area I guess we tried to over compensate for.  I felt that Maddie and Amanda did very well as Maddie was the brain trust for most of the ideas behind the activities.  Not to say I wasn’t pulling my load for the class, but it was very clear that she had put considerable thought into the whole matter.  I commend and admire her for that.  Amanda did well as she carried her sections throughout the activity as well.

The class was very receptive to the way and structure the day played out.  All were very cooperative and willing [not to mention very patient] with us, especially me.  I was simply trying to not blow it and hold the group back.  Both and all were kind to me and cared to understand  my role in the whole process.

Overall it was a success and I learned a great deal.

Service learning hours 4 & 5

American Indians in the plight of the early reservation era were considered to be POW’s- that is Prisoners of War.  In fact for much of this country’s history, we were placed under the Department of War before being moved to the Department of the Interior.

We were POW’s before we were recognized as citizens.  Isn’t that something?

There’s power and a certain fascination to that truth.  In fact what is more awesome [if I can use that word loosely] is two things.  The first is that did you know that it took 5,000 foot to ground, butt to saddle United States military men to hunt down and capture 25 Apache warriors led by Geronimo.  5,000 to 25, that’s worth repeating.  And that some of the most feared Indian warriors were the famed Cheyenne Dog Soldiers because legend has it that they once stabbed a pole into the ground and tied themselves to that pole with raw hide, vowing to die tied to that pole fighting and because that was how willing they were to die so that their people could flee for safety from instigators.  That inspired fear from both tribal and non tribal enemies as to say “oh no, we ain’t messing with those guys.”

I learned this in my current Native American Studies class and I thought it would be cool to share with the executive director of the ministry I lead on campus on our way to Denver for our annual summit.

He smiled his gringo smile and said that was “stinking awesome” or something to that effect.  it helped him to appreciate the history of the native peoples of this land and what we  had to endure and overcome.  As a young person I can say that I don’t appreciate our history always, but when I do love learning about it.  That when heard this way, the romanticism is not always hyped up to be what it is.

The lasting effect of this help in paradigm shift helps me to see through a different lens in how I engage and build relationships with students.  Just because we’re on a college campus doesn’t mean we miss our home- unlike much of America.  It means that  we’re a generation or two- if that removed from the abhorrent times of boarding schools and instead of land, we lost people.  It means that we participate in the grief, that when my Navajo friend visits places, he knows that’s where the bloody and infamous “Trail of Tears” ended where he is today.  It’s being authentic and true to our livelihood and preserving the history and striving for the future.

As that week passed by I got to share my story, get hugs and thank yous, got to share insight on how to launch and lead movements on campuses in Brookings, SD and Las Cruces NM and pray over the group.  That was awesome.  Now I’m in the business where people are quoting me.  It was an amazing week.

Next year, I hope, will be even bigger!

service learning hour 3

Intentions mean well.

Authenticity as it turns out can be timely, and never on ‘our’ time as it turns out. 

This is going to be fun for you because I wrote about this person in one of my essays ;)

It started with me wanting it to be “bread truck” Thursday.  That is I just got back from a very enriching, enlightening, but exhausting week in Denver, CO, drove the better part of the whole day Wednesday to get back to Bozeman only to have to prep a lesson for the weekly meeting because the group didn’t feel confident with not having me there to facilitate.  Bread truck Thursday means that there was slight possibility that I was going to be a jet lagged, semi grouch mofo and that I didn’t particularly give a rats you-know-what about what messes and dramas were going on in other people’s lives.  I simply wanted to check out because at this particular moment, being a bread truck driver was much easier and simpler.

I had nothing but freshmen, one of which was overly enthusiastic that he had just joined a bible/ life group without having to do anything but sit there and be a part of the conversation.

As the hour went on, we discussed the story of the Good Samaritan and what it looks like to be a “good neighbor” and so on and so fourth.  However at the beginning one of the three newbies [two girls, one guy] asked for a stick of gum.  As my pack of gum was passed around, it passed over this other girl- not the one who asked but you know, the “other girl”.  Keeping in mind and being well aware of the last week’s reflection I had regarding this person, I tried out my self aware opportunity to reach out to her.

I gently and quietly asked if she’d like a stick of gum and held out my flat palmed hand to see if she wanted some.  She gently scraped the pack of gum out of my hand.  Notice here I was being very inviting in gauging how she’d interact with me as it was the first time I actively engaged her.  She intentionally made physical contact which I suspected and I took that as a good thing as trust and comfort was being built without the dogged implications and ulterior intentions that could be had in an interaction like this.

As the meeting drew near I asked if anybody needed prayer.  All the kids opened up like a flood gate.  The asked for prayer for family and loved ones, asked for prayer for strength to continue on with the rigorous and hectic college life.  Not really participating in the hour long discussion at all, the victory came at the end.  They really opened up and jotted us down in their weekly planner because the simple prayer made that much of a difference for them and that this is why they came to hang out, to feel like being in a community.

As this person asked for prayer, she asked “how do you cope?”  meaning how do I cope with having to be an adult, being away from home, and having to take responsibility for myself.  I smiled and replied “as long as you’re here on this campus, you’re always trying to cope.”  She smiled, said thank you, and felt more at peace as I did pray for her coping skills.

Being bold happens a lot quicker than I think and I thank God that it was in a safe environment.   This is what service means too.   I’m glad I didn’t decide to be a bread truck driver that evening.

service learning hour 2

We all long for a good love story.

Beauty and the Beast.  The Great Gatsby.  Jane Eyre and Rochester.  It almost seems to be ever so clear in our everyday fairy tale.   We love, it seems, the ‘forbidden fruit’.  That we’ll fall madly in love.  In literature, we call a good ending a comedy and a bad ending a tragedy.

Recently there was an opportunity for me to get to know a student while walking her home at night.  It was here on campus.  As we walked I learned just how complicated an Ipad 2 can be, what kinds of music this girl liked to listen to [it was Michael Jackson one moment and something like Fallout Boy the next moment.], where and how this girl came to be.  Then I asked her how she thought she was adjusting to her very first semester in college.  As it turns out, the storyline was similar as most American Indian students; she came she felt, by pure accident and it surprised her to walk and admit that.  She had grown up in a foster home with her grandmother until the age of 14 until her grandmother had passed and since then had been couch surfing to different friends and relatives’ home living on her own ever since then.  Then she mentioned having to graduate high school a year later than most and commented that “I don’t what other’s think or say.  It may have taken me an extra year, but I got it done.”

Interestingly enough and somewhat semi- surprising she then told me something that I had become accustomed to hearing and as sad as it is, it gave me hope.  “I was raped as a little girl by some of my relatives.”  I walked about a good ten steps before I could even say anything and when I did I said “I’m really sorry about that.”

What does this have to do with service?

  As the weeks have gone on, this student has become very affectionate in our interactions.  She longs to show me her pardon my language but- “bitchin” Captain America t- shirt and ridiculous sweater that has a hood that comes over her face looking just like Capt.  She loves to show off her Ipad [and take sneaky pics that’ll catch you completely off guard as it turns out] and she sits there week in and week out at our Nations meeting meddling between her phone and Ipad.  She doesn’t say much but it’s been reported to me that she really likes our group and enjoys the people.

I decided to take a risk one week and asked her if she’d be willing to read the scripture from the bible that I was planning to use for the group discussion that day for the weekly meeting.  All but too excited she jumped at the opportunity.  As I was trying to recommend a website to her, keeping in mind that she would opt for the Ipad, she stopped me and pulled out a paper back bible, proud to show it off.  Taken aback I said ok and flipped through to the passage and with her instructions highlighted the parts I wanted her to read.

She likes to talk about boys, but I like to think that this little tidbit that is ours, will help her to realize a overwhelming and transformative love story that she’s already apart of and how it’s affecting her story.

9/21 reading exercises- organization

I wanted to throw that cat tracker in the burning barrel.

I can be honest.  And for the record, my grade point average while a student here at Montana State University is a 1.99  Care to judge me now?

After some serious epistemological and reflective thought, I had a profound realization.  Ever wonder why you never liked brussel  sprouts?  Those arrogant, detached, self centered Americans?  Ever not like getting a face full of something you felt like you never deserved in the first place?

For me, it has nothing to do with quadrants, getting the ball rolling, a sense of accomplishment, or being cross- culturally sensitive to time obligations.  For well over 500 years, we natives have offended everything from chief executive to squirrels with our understanding to time.  It has to do with roles.

The reason I so vehemently despise, spite, and detest the color coded pencil parties with day planners and organizations [trust me innumerable allies, friends, and colleagues have religiously tried to get me to love and appreciate aforesaid methods] is because my first role was- caregiver.

I was a caregiver.

Starting at the age of fourteen I began to learn how to sacrifice sleep, study times, social/ recreational engagements, and personal leisure.  My grandmother in rapid declining health required all and prodigious care.  That task was split between me and my grandfather.  We would take turns driving my grandma to the dialysis center 3 days a week- that meant sometimes I would be up at 4am shoveling snow off the porch, warming the van, packing the traveling bag, and then driving 80 miles round trip in time to get back to the house so I could get ready for school.  That meant some nights I would lie awake listening to my grandmother rock herself in the squeaky chair listening to make sure she didn't go into diabetic shock because her blood pressure was extremely low and often times required the EMT's to visit the house and haul her up to the hospital off the reservation.  It meant I would wake up in night tremors because I felt my adolescence and romantic love interest curious as to why she never could come visit and hang out with me and why I never took her out properly.  It meant that when my grandfather came home stressed out from his job because he wasn't getting the proper respect at work from the men under him only to come home to the ailing woman he loved with all his heart who was dying from being a type II diabetic, loosing function in both kidneys, and needing triple bypass heart surgery just to see if she could qualify to be on the donor list for  kidney- he needed somebody to take it out on me and I willingly and lovingly took the punishment if it meant that he felt like a man in his own home.

I did that and it helped save lives.  I didn't have the luxury of quadrant I, II, III, or IV.  I never planned for anything because duty and love never permitted it.  If I wanted to love my grandmother to her last breath it meant that I would organize my life around hers.  I looked shaggy, I never matched, my room was always messy, and I never strayed too far away from home.

Do I regret it?  Not at all.  I lovingly and willingly accepted my role as a caregiver.  Do I suffer from it?  Absolutely.

I hate cat trackers, planners, and calenders.

But I'd like to give them a try :)