Be Like Robyn

This came up in my memories on Facebook this morning. Backstory: approximately a year ago I was trying to hold Jefferson County Public Schools to some level of accountability for their admitted lack of bullying prevention and, arguably minimal, intervention. My son was bullied to the point of wanting to take his own life. He was excluded from activities, and the school itself almost excluded him from the yearbook because he was hospitalized during the week the layout was finalized. But there were glimmer of hope...one JCPS employee asked about his well being, she even came to our house to help catch him up on the music they were learning in band class. 

And then there was Robyn. My Knight in Shining Armor for 20+ years. My Savior. My anchor of hope in this oft-hopeless world. So I wanted to recollect a story to you and encourage you to Be Like Robyn. 

Long post, please read it all the way:


Today, after receiving an e-mail from the Deputy Superintendent essentially stating she would no longer communicate to me except through their legal department (still no mention of any child's well being), I got to chat with a dear friend of 24 years. She has held my hand through this, let me know what my (and Paul's) rights are and kept me going when I was ready to let the voice die out.


Today I shared a moment I doubted she even remembered. It was junior year english, Mr. Peacock's class. Most people adored him, but I loathed him and the classroom culture he created. At one point during the year, we were invited to bring in current events topics and discuss them. This one particular day, a student brought in an article about a Gay-Straight Alliance (GSA) that a student was trying to begin in Utah (I believe utah). She was expressly prohibited from the after-school club, despite having gone through the same steps as all other clubs. Mr. Peacock offered his own opinions, similar to Bill Lamb on Fox News, on each current event. On this one, and I remember it as clear as day--he was standing to the left of the front of the classroom, he had a green sweater with some shirt underneath, wringing his hands as if he had words of wisdom he knew we wanted to hear ready to drip forth from his puckered lips, he paced left, he paced right, he looked at the ground and then at us, his captive audience. The next two statements had profound impact on my life so I want you to read them clearly:

Mr. Peacock: Here are my thoughts, on this particular subject...unfortunately in this field, of english literature majors, we have more than our fair share and we have to learn to get along.

Student, raising hand: Why is that unfortunate, Mr. Peacock?


There was no answer, except that we immediately moved on to vocabulary. I learned two lessons that day, the world is full of two kinds of people: Mr. Peacocks and Robyn Smiths. I knew there would be people who judged, looked down, scorned, etc. people like me. And I also knew there were people who would speak up on my behalf when my voice wasn't yet strong enough to do so on its own, and those voices are strong enough to silence the others.


People like Robyn save people like me. Read that line again: People like Robyn SAVE people like me. I have never once felt like I wanted to die. I have beat a lot of the odds that were stacked against me, not because I am awesome, but because the village that has always surrounded me worked to change those odds to my favor.


In all of this, I wish there were just one more Robyn to speak up at the District. But since there isn't, since it appears hundreds if not thousands of students are yearning for a Robyn in their lives, we'll trudge forward and try our darndest to ensure it happens. Most of those students won't ever meet or know Robyn, but they'll surely feel the effects of her strong, confident and loud voice... until their own voices are strong enough to carry the message independently and for the next generation.


If you have a Robyn in your life, thank them. If you don't, become one. To Robyn and all the others like her, thank you for saving my life. And the lives of so many of my brothers and sisters along the way. To those we couldn't save, I am truly sorry. We tried hard, and we'll try harder next time.

12 Reflections in 12 Minutes: 2017

Every year I spend 12 minutes, stream of conscious, reflecting on 12 lessons I've learned over the last year. So here you go:

1) Fight like hell to keep those you love alive.
2) Don't let anyone not know how much you love them.
3) You really don't need a big support system, just a few truly make the difference.
4) Find what you love, and pour every ounce of yourself into it.
5) Allow yourself to meander...in life, relationships, careers, goals, books, hobbies, it's how you evolve, remaining fresh and authentic to each stage of your life.
6) Clear the clutter! Take that however you wish.
7) Be mindful of whom you allow in your inner circle. Very mindful; you become them.
8) Always have a good attorney in your corner.
9) Pictures. Take them, print them, frame them, hang them, put them in your car visor, at your office. When people are gone, you'll have the memories and you'll also want more pictures.
10) Grief is not overcome, it is merely absorbed into one's life.
11) Be playful. Get down on the ground and play. Get your crayons out and color. Get some action heroes and role play. Pick up the controller and play some video games.
12) Get. Outside. And. Explore. Your neighborhood, area parks, creeks, the sky. Be curious about your world.

13) Bonus: To do well, you must do good.

Share your's if you'd like.

...feed just one...

A few years ago my mother bought me a book about Mother Teresa. I will admit, the book was not a "fun" book to read and it actually took me several attempts and years to make my way through (most of) it. It just wasn't my style of book. I don't even recall the name of it. Regardless. . .

In it, there was a story. Either she was being interviewed, or just asked questions, or just talking or teaching who knows (clearly the book was memorable) and the question was posed (paraphrasing):
Mother Teresa, how do you get up each day and feed these children, knowing there are thousands more and you do not have enough to feed them all?

Mother Teresa (paraphrasing): If you can't feed 100, feed just one.

This quote has sustained me many times. I was a foster parent; I am an adoptive parent. I always wanted a large house with lots of children. The child God entrusted me to raise needs to be an only child for various reasons. And I need to be a dad of only one child, for various reasons. Sometimes I get bummed because I want more children, damn it! And sometimes I get bummed because I wonder if when I am old, I will have my own child and grandchildren around me or if it'll just be me and my dog enjoying the lazy days in our RV on the beach.

But oftentimes, I get overwhelmed because there are so many children who need loving homes. And I have one of those loving homes! One of the hardest things for me to do was to formally close my home as a foster home and request to be taken off the referrals e-mail list for kids needing foster homes. It closed the opportunity to foster and adopt more children, and in my heart I knew in that moment it was a door that was permanently being sealed shut.

So I often return to Mother Teresa's wisdom: If you can't feed 100, feed just one.

Sometimes we think we have to do big things to make big differences, but we don't. We just have to feed one to make a big difference to that one person. Their belly is full. Their heart is warm. Their spirit is nurtured. Our Calling is manifested.

If you can't feed 100, feed just one. Who are you feeding today? Please send me your stories of feeding just one, or perhaps stories of being fed, along with your permission or not to summarize and share. If you have an event coming up soon, or in the distant future, please let me know so I can help you.

Additional Information:
My friend Lorilea and I are co-chairing (she doesn't know that yet) a Christmas in July brunch to benefit the children living in and supported through St. Joseph's Children's Home (Click here to learn more about St. Joe's). We don't have the details yet, but please stay tuned.

My friend Robyn and I are going to attempt the full Carry the Fallen Ruck March (22 hours of walking with a full pack on) to raise awareness about suicide prevention within our military veteran population (Click here to learn more about: Active Heros) I walked with her a few hours last year in honor and memory of my own father, a fallen hero, to say it was "a good time" is misleading...but it is a good time to feed just one. One person we'll never know or meet perhaps, but we'll be able to feed them anyway. Perhaps not nutritionally, but we all need more than physical nutrients in our lives.

I will try to post here. But you can also like my professional FB page (Click here to like: Infinite Balance Massage) where I will, no doubt, solicit support in helping to feed just one.