Diversity - A Different Topic

This column is about diversity. Now there’s a different topic.

What does a white guy know about diversity? Well, I’ve learned a lot in facilitating multiple workshops on diversity awareness. I haven’t learned in the facilitating, but in the listening to people pouring their hearts out. I’ve thus become a student of diversity.

I’ve watched tears well up (mine, mostly) while participants described instances where salespeople stood close by – not to offer assistance, but to watch and make sure nothing gets stolen. Or, about having a flat tire on a country road and fearing for their life, for darkness to fall. What’s that like?

Garland is a diverse community. We’ve got it all. So what? What’s important is not having diversity, but recognizing diversity, valuing diversity, celebrating diversity, leveraging diversity.

My wife and I worked the Care Van last night at the McDonald’s on Walnut and Garland Road. The Care Van (there are multiple) rolls out to various locations around the state offering free immunizations to kids. They work with the local schools to set up clinics for those students needing their shots to stay in school. Blue Cross and Blue Shield of Texas picks up all the administrative costs – Texans’ donations go directly to pay for the immunizations. Fill out a few forms (English on one side, Spanish the other), bring your child’s shot records, and get in line for free shots – and a sticker for a free McDonald’s ice cream cone afterwards.

What a diverse group there was. Hispanics, Blacks, Asians, East Indians, Whites. Children arrived with Mom, with Dad, with Mom and Dad, with Grandma, with big brother and big sister, with Auntie. A snapshot of Garland. All waited for a long time in multiple lines. Care Van volunteers spoke to them in a variety of languages. Totally diverse group, but with the same basic mission – offer these children a brighter, healthier future.

So, why is recognizing, valuing, celebrating, leveraging diversity so important to Garland’s future, and to our country’s future? Because diversity means different ways of thinking. Our city and country are in a financial mess right now, and if we just keep thinking the same way, we’re going to continue to see the same results. What we need is a new way of thinking – and that’s going to come from our diversity. Haven’t you ever had the experience where you said to yourself, “Wow, I’ve never thought about it like that!”?

Our country is in a serious energy crisis. We’re going to need some different thinkers to get us out of this mess. It seems the current thinkers are trying to figure out a way to get our hands on more oil. We need a new way of thinking. Perhaps how to reduce our country's dependence on oil by becoming the world leader in building creative, renewable energy sources. Now, there’s a different thought.

The more diverse our city is, the more diverse our country is, the more diverse the thoughts are going to be. The person who gets us headed down the right path to solving the energy crisis is most-likely not going to look like me, talk like me, dress like me, behave like me, think like me. And, thank goodness for that!

The person whose work ends our insatiable appetite for oil by showing us a new form of energy that’s clean, safe, renewable, and available to all may be one of those people whose body is covered with tattoos and piercings. Or, perhaps a first-generation American. Let’s make that person American of the Decade, and teach our children to think like her, and smile when we see others on the street who look like her. After all, she’ll be the one who helped turn our country back into the land of hope and promise.

We must understand (before we dig in our heals) that we are all different – backgrounds, education, friendships, religion, community, life experiences. So, we’re not all going to think alike. And, not only is that OK that we’re not going to think alike, the future of our country depends on it.

#1 Son-in-Law

Looks like I'm the #1 SIL (son-in-law) again since my brother-in-law blew off (he had to "work") my father-in-law's (Pops') birthday dinner last night.

Perhaps being the #1 SIL isn't such a good thing. The #2 SIL got a Troy Aikman-signed football a couple of Father's Days ago. The #1 SIL got a large plastic statue of St. Francis for his garden.

Just looking out for my eternal salvation, and for a bountiful harvest, I guess.

God bless us, every one!

Not Appropriate for the Newspaper: A Love Letter

I wrote the following for my regular newspaper column, but it was deemed not appropriate for the Community Voices section. I think it's a message everyone needs to hear, however. So, here it is...


This is a love letter to you. Haven’t gotten one of those in awhile?

Dr. Dee is one of my biggest fans at work. She never fails to offer me support and encouragement. I once overheard her tell another medical director that if Nelson was working on it she was confident that it would be done well.

I once sent Dr. Dee a note thanking her for being such a positive influence on me. She sent me an e-mail thanking me for my note, and saying she had tucked it into her “treasure chest.” She told me she has a little “treasure chest” where she keeps really nice things – notes, pictures, clippings, trinkets – things that she knows will make her smile when she sees them.

When she is having a rough day or struggling, Dr. Dee opens her “treasure chest,” goes through it, and is inspired and renewed again. My note made Dr. Dee’s “treasure chest” – how special is that?

Do you have a “treasure chest” of really nice things? Things you know will make you smile at first glance? Things that will inspire and renew you when you’re having a rough day?

Maybe you create your “treasure chest” today and clip this column and tuck it in. Uh oh. Now I have to write something worthy of that.

You may not have been reminded of it lately, but you are absolutely special. There is no other person in the world just like you. Never has been. Never will be. You’re totally unique. One of a kind for all of eternity. Imagine that.

And, because you are so unique, you have a unique purpose for being on this earth. You weren’t a mistake. You are here for a reason. All of your skills, and knowledge, and talents, and creativity are a gift to you to be used for a specific purpose. (Let me give you a hint – your purpose involves doing something for someone else.)

Here’s something else you should know. Wherever you are, whatever you are doing right now – God loves you. God’s love is unconditional. It’s not based on anything you’ve done or haven’t done. It’s not a bonus for work well done. It just is. God made you and said, “Wow, this is really good.” So, there you have it.

One more thing. Having a bad hair day? Less than perfect today? God thinks you are stunningly beautiful. Sheer perfection. Whatever you are, whoever you are, is exactly perfect for what God has in store for you, for your unique purpose. When you look in the mirror, you may not like what you see. God looks at you and beams.

So, there’s three things to put in your “treasure chest” – you are totally unique and thus incredibly special, and on this earth for a specific purpose; God loves you unconditionally; and in God’s eyes you are absolutely beautiful.

Here’s what I think God wants you to do with that knowledge: take one day a week and rest in it. Consider it enough for one day. A sabbath day. God has even set the example for you, remember?

One day a week just stop. And rest. Without guilt or apology. If for no other reason than because God has given you the OK – actually the command – to do it. Not because you have completed all of your tasks, but right in the middle of all of your tasks. Stop for one day a week and rest in the security that those three things (that you just put in your new “treasure chest”) are enough.

A day to rest. To celebrate. To feast. To recover. To renew. To refresh. To do only those things you want to do. Take a day of rest one day a week, and you’ll be amazed at how much better the other six become.

Start a “treasure chest.” Tuck those three truths in it, and also deep into your heart. And take one day a week to rest in those truths, to refresh and renew. You’ll be a better person for it.

Someone who is so unique and special, and loved, and beautiful deserves a love letter every now and then, right?

On the Road to 26.2: Chicago, IL

It's strange that I was out of town 2 weeks out of the last 3. I don't have a traveling job. I despise traveling. I am a creature of habit, and when I get out of my routine, I can barely function. But, last week I was in Chicago again.

I love running in Chicago! I was downtown very close to the harbor -- about 1/2 mile from the nice, soft composite biking/running trail that runs right along the water. Yachts and sailboats, seagulls, Canadian geese, cottontails, and lots of other runners and bikers were my companions. The temperature was near 60 degrees each morning with a light wind. Running heaven.

Near one of the stadiums there is a memorial area for fallen paramedics and firefighters. Huge rectangular stones, I assume memorializing each hero. The stones are spread out, and some in clumps, and it appears are meant to be sat on to stop and reflect and remember.

The landscaping along this trail is amazing. Flowers that have long given up in North Texas are thriving there. Alot of the trail is shady from tall trees. There are several huge yachts -- much bigger than my house, docked along the edge. I left to run at 5:15 a.m., and on a couple of these big boats, someone was up on the deck with a cup of coffee. As I made my turnaround and headed back, the sun was coming up over Lake Michigan.

Have I gushed enough about running in Chicago?

I know it's not truly running heaven because of one thing -- gnats. There were funnel clouds of gnats swirling around most of the lights on the trail. Sometimes you don't see them, and you run into a cloud of them. They're all over your face and neck and arms. They're in your eyes and mouth and nose. (I always bring a washcloth with me to wipe sweat, and gnats.) You wipe and wave and cough and gag and spit -- and the people driving by are thinking, "Man, if that's what running looks like, leave me out of it."

Other than the gnats, Chicago running in August is pure bliss.

One other observation -- everyone is so driven up there. The bikers that race by are totally focused. They don't smile or say good morning -- they just race by like they are trying to catch up with Lance. (Except for the really large black guy who is riding along with his bike helmet, and he is smiling from ear to ear, and he actually greets me like an old friend now that we've seen each other the last 3 mornings.) The runners are the same -- racing along, checking their watches. One man's watch was beeping -- how much fun is that in such a beautiful setting?

There was one delightful red-haired girl on the trail. She alternated running with biking. She was stunningly beautiful. An angel with red hair and rosy cheeks. She also smiled at me one morning, and life was good for the rest of my day.

Have you ever gone out for a run just to experience the joy in moving? That's really what I do every morning. I'm not going to win any races. I don't often establish any PRs. (On Monday, my time was 1:04:07. On Tuesday, my time for the same route was 1:04:06 -- getting faster. On Wednesday, when the red-haired girl smiled at me, my time was 1:02:42. Thursday, I rested. Friday I couldn't wait to do my 12-miler to finish my week.) I finish, and I pretty much enjoy every minute of my runs. If you haven't run that kind of run lately, you might give it a try.

I'm just a plodder. You guys go on ahead.

Run on, friends.

Northwest Garland at 4:30 a.m. Tuesday

It would probably have been safer for me to stay at home this morning and not gone for my early morning run. There was a negative energy in the air that just made things not feel right.

This was northwest Garland at 4:30 a.m. today.

I wasn't bothered at all by the biggest possum I'd ever seen giving me a big smile as I headed down the street towards Shiloh Rd. After all, I am one with nature early in the morning.

Up ahead near Goodwill at Shiloh and Beltline there was a group of 5 teens talking loud and cursing. I thought, "This can't be good." So, I crossed to the other side of the road, and they didn't bother me other than to throw a few choice words in my direction.

It seemed like there were 10 times as many cars as usual on Shiloh this morning. Lots of loud thumping bass music. Maybe the big party had just let out.

Just north of Arapaho on Shiloh I heard a man on his back porch yelling out, "Shut the f up!, and shut your f-ing mouth!" at someone over and over. That was unnerving. I was going to flag down the GPD if I saw one this morning -- I usually do see them in the mornings.

Up ahead near the Shiloh bridge, I noticed another runner out. Another early morning soul. But, he swung down into the Spring Creek Reserve to a car that was waiting down at the bottom. I wondered what kind of a deal was being made down there this morning.

I was barked at for the first time in months by several different dogs this morning. They had finally gotten used to me and had decided to just sleep and not bother with me anymore. But this morning, I guess they sensed the negative energy and were up and barking.

On my way back from 190/George Bush Freeway, it was finally energizing to see and wave at "Cap'n Jack" (who always wears a fishing cap) -- my other regular early-morning sidewalk mover.

Back near Arapaho and Shiloh again, I heard someone pumping up a pellet gun (I know the sound -- I went through several pellet guns as a kid.) I imagined being hit by a pellet at any minute, but was able to duck by the fence and get up on the alley where I felt more protected.

Obviously, I made it home safely, but I hope mornings in Northwest Garland in the future are a lot less interesting than today was.

Muslim Wedding Ceremony

I went to a Pakistani Muslim wedding ceremony on Friday night for two of my favorite people in this world. You didn't need to understand the language they were saying blessings in, and singing prayers in, to be overwhelmed and brought to tears by the love that filled that room.

I've never seen a young man and young woman so honored and adored as I saw on Friday night. This world needs more of that.

Fishing

The spider webs are back.

I run a little later on Sunday mornings -- sleep in a little, and don't want to be out too early when some are just coming home from their Saturday nights (they tend to be unruly towards early morning runners.) I like to time my Sunday morning runs so that at my turnaround the sun is just rising.

It's a beautiful time of morning. The birds are really singing their morning songs.

As I crossed the Shiloh bridge this morning, headed south and back home, the sun was lighting up the new spider webs. On virtually every corner of every square in the railing, there was a glistening web -- probably a total of 50 different webs. Fishing for their breakfast. Casting their seines, perhaps.

Some appeared to be novice webs -- irregularly shaped, corners flapping in the wind. Others were the webs of experienced spiders -- perfectly symmetric, beautiful and built to last.

As I shuffled by, enthralled by the sunlight on the webs, I was sure at any minute I was going to see the words, "SOME PIG".