Early the next morning of that world-changing day, I was awakened by a phone call from my sister, who firmly said into the phone, Turn on the TV. By the time I had the TV on, flames were pouring from the first tower and the second tower had just been hit. The horror escalated as people were trapped, the buildings pancaked and another plane hit the Pentagon.
In an effort to have our elementary school-aged sons experience normalcy, and in deference to our own obligations, I took the kids to school and headed to the venue for the workshop I was to lead, while my husband drove to the clinic where he takes care of his many patients. Listening to the news in my car en route to the workshop venue, I thought:
These leaders are all convening in one location on this day, and all must return to his or her context where their followers will be looking to them for leadership. We must use today to help them prepare.
Some would have church members who had family in New York City, some would have church members with a family member in a flight crew, some would have church members with family in the military or who were first responders, all would have pews packed on the following Sunday as people sought comfort, hope and, frankly, the embrace of community. As the leaders of thousands upon thousands of people across our region, these leaders needed to gather themselves, process their own emotions, and plan for how they would meet the needs of their communities, their followers and their churches' visitors, the fundamental needs for stability, trust, compassion and hope.
Tonight, on September 10, I'm once again preparing to lead a workshop tomorrow for a group of leaders, this time for leaders who work to create educational opportunities for young people and conditions that will give rise to those opportunities. Their work is difficult, as they, like all leaders in this time, are operating in a context of unprecedented divisiveness and rancor in our institutions, politics and communities.
In these intervening seventeen years from that awful day in 2001, the events of the world, the pace of disruption, the pace of acceleration and the miles on my own personal odometer have caused me to collect and try to act on some basic principles for living and serving.
1. Focus on what you can control.
2. Use what you have.
3. Let go of your sense of inadequacy.
4. Bring people together.
5. Be generous.
6. Communicate well.
7. Pick the right time.
8. Take care of your own well being.
9. Do the right thing.
We are all called to be bridge-builders in this time, and each of us must develop the resilience necessary for that work. Each of us leads in some way, whether in our families, neighborhoods, work places or volunteer roles. Most strategically of all, we must lead ourselves so that we can show up as our best version of ourselves and contribute to the greater good.
On the eve before September 11, 2018, I leave you with the words of my mentor, the one and only Curt Liesveld: Be well and do good.
Thank you, Mary Sue. Your principles, like their author, are helpful without being preachy. I'm going to print them and post them on my refrigerator. I am especially impressed with #3. How is it possible that a woman so strong, capable, and inspiring ever has any sense of inadequacy? The fact that you do just goes to show that even the best of us feel inadequate at times.
ReplyDeleteWise words, Mary Sue. Thank you for sharing this.
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