Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.
James Baldwin
The question of why I would invest in Collectively Me, a written collection of my perceptions and perspectives based on my life experiences, is such a great question! My life is good. Honestly, my life is really good! Blessed beyond what I imagined growing up, and certainly more than I deserve. It certainly doesn’t make sense to share my life and my thoughts virtually for the world to see. Even more so, it is something of a risk in sharing myself as some may judge and others may mock. Now, I fully understand feedback will be provided based on either one’s personal or professional opinions, often both. So again, I have to pause and ask myself, “why”?
Simeon Sinek authored a great book entitled, Start with Why. I highly recommend everyone to read it. The primary premise of the book concerns great leaders inspiring those whom they lead to take action. If you don’t enjoy reading check out one of his Ted Talks. Sinek focuses on understanding “why” we do something before we try to understand “what” we are going to do. So again, why should I do this?
The primary “why” I should do this is that, every day, I get out of bed with the desire to help change lives. I firmly believe that in some non-heroic way, this is what God intended for me to do. If you agree to stick with me long enough, I think this may prove true.
I must be honest and tell you now, I don’t have an inspiring life story to tell. No rags to riches, living in extreme poverty, dope, or crime infested neighborhood story. That just isn’t my reality. I lived a life where there was always something on the table and lots of left-over meals. My mom provided the best that she could to cloth me. I rotated a couple of pairs of jeans. And by the way, thank God for Fingerhut, Blair, and Montgomery Ward, which allowed us to charge on the store accounts. And thinking back, I actually don’t think my mom paid those off until I was in my thirties.
We all have our own stories. My story isn’t about the life people could see. My story is about the life I lived that only I knew. The stories my mom never heard until I was 46 years old. There was too much damage at an early age. In reality, I shouldn’t have made it this far. But wait, back to my why!
One September night in 2010, I was celebrating my twenty-year high school reunion. That night had been a very bizarre night for me. Not in a bad way, really, but more in a way that forced me to really try to figure out, "what in the heck just happened?”
Growing up, I was a pretty gifted athlete, at least my version of giftedness. I was really good at football and baseball. I was also pretty good at basketball and track, but what I was most gifted at was being the class clown. Because of all that, I could really draw a crowd. I could be the center of attention. Looking back now, I know that, even then, my greatest gift was actually leading. I just didn’t realize that reality at the time.
That September night as I leaned up against a pool table, person after person stopped for a visit and we reminisced about the past. After each person, and on occasion a group would walk away, I would say to myself, I didn’t know that! I didn’t know because I remembered I called one of my classmates Timex in high school, it meant something to them. I didn’t know that because I remembered that we were in math class together, it meant something to another. I didn’t know that I had a positive impact on so many of my classmates.
That night following the event, I sat in my truck for what seemed like hours, just weeping. I really didn’t understand at that moment. I asked God, “what are you trying to tell me? What is it that you expect me to do with this?” I prayed to God because these people didn’t have a clue of the pain that I kept inside of me. The hurt that I felt all those years growing up. How could I, a broken person myself, have that impact on others? Most of these classmates lived lives better than I back then, or at least, so I thought!
Five years following the reunion, I reconnected with a classmate I visited with during the reunion. We had a very interesting and emotional conversation that really touched my heart. We both shared some painful moments of our past. It was then she revealed she had viewed me as her protector since the 2nd grade. This conversation, five years after the reunion, allowed my realty to come full circle.
I had never thought that I had done anything extraordinary during high school. That was just who I was, a caretaker. I didn’t know how to be anything different being that kid raised by a bunch of powerful women. That kid carrying a load within, unable or unwilling to allow anyone else to help me.
In reflection, it was that high school reunion event and reflection over the next few years that I realized I have no choice but to share my story. You see, this is just a short list of conversations and similar situations like my high school reunion. Consequently, I have no choice but to take this action as there are people out there who are looking for a light in a very dark world and may benefit from my experiences.
It would be selfish for me to keep COLLECTIVELY ME to myself.
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