Tag Archives: cities

Don’t Let Fear Be Your Excuse

I had lunch recently with my friends Jane and Larry Graham. Their granddaughter Caroline Richards died in January from osteocarcenoma, a rare form of bone cancer.  She was 12 years old. Caroline was a sunny day kind of child: She favored dancing over walking and singing over whispering.  She had over 30,000 followers on Twitter. She embraced her disease by giving people presents, making them laugh, and celebrating her favorite pop band One Direction. Caroline refused to forfeit her time to fear, self-pity or regret.

Caroline Richards faced a rare form of cancer by refusing to let fear and pain rob her of joy.

Caroline Richards faced a rare form of cancer by refusing to let fear and pain rob her of joy.

I’ve thought of Caroline many times since the Saturday afternoon I squeezed into her funeral, a standing-room only affair packed with people of all ages and walks of life, many of whom had big bows in their hair like the kind Caroline wore – when she had hair. There was dancing in the aisles and a great deal of singing to honor Caroline’s philosophy: If life throws you a bum rap, put a bow on it and throw a party.

Easier said than done, we say. Some of us are tragedians; we tend to look at the quieter, sad aspect of life. But the lesson Caroline leaves us is to not be undone by mere predisposition. No indeed. Do not let fear be the excuse.

Most of us are blessed. We don’t face major life-and-death situations.  But fear is an insidious life-stealer.  Ever since I can remember I’ve suffered from paralyzing stage fright. I have a vivid memory of standing in front of my eighth grade speech class and leaning on a chair because my knees were shaking so hard. Stints in community theater and Toastmasters have alleviated it, but I’m still terrified when I face an audience. My task is to prepare, open my mouth and say my piece. Telephone calls have always had the same effect on me, an odd twist for someone in my profession.

Caroline's Brave Bunny Foundation awards a children who show exceptional courage with this bunny.

Caroline’s Brave Bunny Foundation recognizes children who show courage.

Caroline’s mother, Lauren, gets it. Caroline didn’t live to do what she’d wanted to do, help raise money as an ambassador for research to help save other children from the cancer that caused her so much suffering.  So her mom has taken the bull by the horns in Caroline’s honor. Lauren is starting the Caroline’s Brave Bunny Foundation that, among other things, awards a (stuffed) bunny to children who show their own particular brand of courage.

The award — a bunny with “Brave” embroidered on one ear and the child’s name on the other — recognizes courage, not winning. The victory lies in moving through the fear, be it finishing school, or mastering a particular skill. Whatever it may be. Fear is a very personal crippler.

So remember Caroline and the Brave Bunny next time you pick up the phone to make that cold call. Or take a job you don’t think you can do. Scale your guts, and think about the time you have on this planet. Let’s not let fear be our excuse.

The Boy Who Wants to Be a Scientist

I took the iPod out of my young friend’s ear and suggested he would make a great mayor.  “I don’t want to be a mayor, he said.  “I want to be a scientist.”

I was impressed.

I have a young friend who wants to be a scientist.

I have a young friend who wants to be a scientist.

“What kind of scientist?” I asked.

“An engineer,” and then he paused.  “I want to be everything.”

My admiration grew.  My friend is 10 years old — 11 next month.  I met him at the Helping Hand Home for Children, where he’s spent the last couple of years after a rocky experience in the foster care system.  Next week, he goes back to the family from which he was removed.

I replaced the earpod and looked at him. My friend is at the intersection of many of the great debates of our time — race, abortion, economic opportunity, multiculturalism.  I don’t know why he was taken from his family, but whatever it was, it must have been pretty horrible.  To become a scientist, a mayor, or a repairman in a power substation will require super-human work, hope and magic.  If he fails to pull it off and becomes homeless, goes to jail or abuses his kids, we’ll be the ones who pay the price.  Literally.

Wouldn’t it be great if we could make my friend’s path a little easier?

Solutions to complex problems happen when people begin to talk with one another.  A few weeks ago, inspired by an editorial on civil exchange, I signed up for red bench training.  The genesis of the idea came from Dr. Betty Sue Flowers, a business consultant, poet, educator and administrator and communicator (who is also a native Texan and former director of LBJ Presidential Library):

I think people don’t feel they have permission to talk about something that makes them as vulnerable as love, so we don’t usually talk about it in public. I once had the idea of having a red bench in every corporation. And the red bench to be an invitation to conversations that matter. So if you sat on the red bench, you were saying, I’m open to having a conversation about love, or a conversation about truth, or something that matters to me.    Dr. Betty Sue Flowers

The red bench conversations encourage people to build relationships. (Photo courtesy of Christy Tidwell)

The red bench conversations encourage people to build relationships. (Photo courtesy of Christy Tidwell)

Civil exchange is a prerequisite for collaboration, which is the way most things get done. Note that Dr. Flowers proposed red bench conversations as part of a project she did for Royal Dutch Shell.  Here in Austin, Interfaith Action of Central Texas  runs a program built around the idea.  iACT Executive Director Tom Spencer wrote the editorial that prompted me to act. Check it out in your community.

We may be able to begin a conversation that will help my young friend. He would make a great mayor.

Accommodating change — and everybody else

Everything was set up to start spring cleaning, and this little guy stuck his head out of an abandoned sparrow nest nestled between the rear window and an outdoor shade.  Okay, so I’m a little late on the cleaning.

It’s an anole lizard, a charming little reptile — sometimes green, sometimes brown — seen darting across rocks, fences and buildings in warm weather (just about all year in Austin).

A reptilian squatter, seen through a (dirty) window.

A reptilian squatter, seen through a (dirty) window.

The little guy (it may be a gal) is homesteading.  I can tell it thinks big — it’s taken over the entire foot-long nest.  Anolis lizards are fiercely protective.  When I pointed the hose, it girded its loins, as the ancients used to say, and made ready for battle.

Nature vs. woman – one of the life’s four basic conflicts.  The compromise?  Abandon the project and am work out an accommodation.  I mean, what if it’s a single mom?

Austin’s kind of like that: thinking big and figuring out how to accommodate record growth.  There are lots of out-of-state license plates on packed roads. Housing is getting harder to find.  All of which goes hand-in-hand with excitement and energy — and a nexus of talent, energy and resources.

Does growth have to be Darwinian?  The anole reminded me to pause and make way.  To make room for those of a different stripe and enjoy the expansion.

The disputed territory -- can the anole and I accommodate one another?

The disputed territory — can the anole and I accommodate one another?