At last!

Well, I took a brief hiatus on blogging to enjoy the long weekend! Never fear, I am back in full force. One thing I did work extensively on over the weekend however, was my photography website. It's not perfect yet, and the deeper you go, the less perfect it gets. But, consider this the Beta version at least!

http://www.reflectingstone.com/

So, all of you Central Iowa readers, spread the word! Also, let me know what you think I could do to improve it!

Accountability

When children are sick, it just breaks my heart. I know the profound joy a child brings to the lives of those around them. So, imagine my heartache at the thought of little baby girl, the same size and age as my own daughter, lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to so many wires and machines that she can barely move a muscle. This was the case last week, when a friend of mine took her daughter to the doctor with flu like symptoms. The doctor sent her home. "It's just the flu, try to keep her hydrated." Days went by, and the little girl got worse. So, this time, they took the little girl to the ER in Des Moines. It was evident immediately that something serious was wrong with the baby, but since it was a Saturday night, the doctors advised that they really couldn't do much until Monday morning. Now, maybe it's more complicated than this. But to me, the thought of a doctor, ANY doctor, that could not sacrifice a Saturday evening to come into "work" to save a child's life...well, that's scary.

It was decided that the baby be life-flighted to the University of Iowa Hospitals. My heart just aches for those final moments, when the parents put their baby on that helicopter, got into a car, and had to be separated from their limp, nearly lifeless child for 2 hours. All the while wondering, worrying.

The first 12 hours in Iowa City were a blur of doctors, students, nurses, assistants and other uniformed people coming in and out, checking clipboards, then leaving. All the while the baby got worse. Finally, the father, fatigued, frsutrated and aching with grief, cornered a doctor and said, "My daughter is dying in here. What will it take to fix her? What do YOU think it will take? Don't worry about who's turf you are stepping on which doctors will be offended that you questioned their judgement. Just tell me, what will it take to fix her!" As the parents received the first honest answer in 24 hours, the father continued. "OK. Now YOU make it happen. This is on your shoulders now. I am trusting you to make it happen and save my daughter's life."

That doctor did just that, she saved that little girls life. She stepped on some toes, ran some more tests, and with a diagnosis of bacterial meningitis, she immediately began the appropriate treatment. It's scary to think how close that family was to losing everything. That was one week ago, and that sweet little girl is recovering, slowly but surely. She'll be in Iowa City for weeks and weeks. Her parents will be living out of suitcases, eating out of vending machines and reading terrible, outdated magazines from cover to cover. But at least they have a reason to stay there and that is a miracle.

It's funny how accountability works. It's certainly one of the best motivators. Every organization, company and schoolroom, is full of people, some who shy away from accountability, and some to flock toward it. I know people on both sides of the fence. Some jobs clearly require more accountability than others- like jobs with some kind of quantitative output. But what about the doctors, lawyers, social workers, daycare providers, teachers and other service professionals we all rely on to teach our children and cure our sick? Are "nanny-cams," "malpractice lawsuits" and "No Child Left Behind" the only defense we have?

40-Love

Life is relationships. Everything starts out, turns into, or revolves around them. My job and my life are no different.

My husband and I met as tennis partners. My normal tennis buddy was busy on game night and he found a substitute to play for him (his conveniently single brother, Steve!). I still remember, to this day, what he said to me when we were done playing. It had been fairly close, but I beat him. It was a good match. I was feeling pretty cocky I guess you could say. I mean, I'm a girl, I'm one-handed and I'm fiercely competitive- I revel in winning. So there we were, shaking hands, saying our goodbyes and he DOESN'T say, "Wow, great forehand," or "Man, you can really play." No, instead it was, "huh, that's neat how you can tie your shoes with one hand..." Hmpphh! No competitor wants to hear about how well they tie their shoes!

Yet, somehow, his charm and humor won me over. We took it slow, for months we played tennis and exchanged emails. My roommates ribbed me for laughing out loud while sitting at my computer. Yes, they knew much earlier than I did what was to be. One brisk October night we decided to conclude our match (or my whopping him on the court as I recall it) with a walk in the park. I suppose the rest is history.

But, recruiting students is really the same story. It all starts with meeting a student. They tell me about themselves, I tell them about Simpson. We exchange emails, exchange stories and even exchange some laughs. I maintain accounts on Facebook and Myspace, all in the name of communication! I put up with spam, ads and friend requests from the likes of "Hot Horatio" and "Devil Damien" all in the name of trying to connect, to build relationships. Just like anything, it takes time to develop a rapport. This is the fun part of my job, getting to know so many students and families. Well, for the most part. There's always that kid, or that parent- you know, the one that believes the earth revolves around the hopes, dreams and whims of their child. If I had a nickel for every time a parent told me how great their kid was, how able their kid was, how perfect and charming and college-material their kid was- well, let's just say my "tennis partner" and I wouldn't be discussing whether to splurge on the granite counter tops or not! Discussion over and we'd probably even throw in the matching sinks just for good measure.

All joking aside, the good relationships outweigh the bad. In fact, the hardest part of my job is probably hearing from one of my favorite students that they are going somewhere else in the fall. I truly invest myself- my heart, my humor (or pathetic attempt sometimes), all I have to give- in my students- and sometimes in the end, it just doesn't work out. Every year I jump in excitement for some students coming, and I usually shed a tear or two in frustration or disappointment at a great kid I lost. It's just like my 401K- the accounts (or students in this case) that offer the greatest reward, also have the greatest risk. I suppose that's what life is about.

Training...

My first job out of college was pretty mundane. In fact, I grew to hate it pretty quickly. There were a lot of reasons why, if you MUST know you can check it out. Anyway, even that job, required one full week of intensive training. My friend is employed by an organization that requires a 3-year internship with the company before you are technically done training. Every management class I have taken has preached the benefits of proper training in an organization.
But, the most important job I have ever had, and will ever have, came with no training at all.

I literally went from a hulking tank of 9 months of Blizzards, prenatal vitamins and backaches, into a mother, all in the blink of an eye. (or 14 hours of backbreaking labor...but who's counting?)

That one moment was joyous, overwhelming, scary and nearly every other emotion imaginable. Two days later we were taking pictures and packing up our belongings to head from the safe haven of the hospital- where all of the help you need is just a call-button away, to the noticeably nurse-less place we called home. I remember asking a nurse a few minutes before departure, "So, how do you do this diaper thing?"

She said "You mean you haven't changed her diaper yet?"

OK, anytime a nurse asks you a question so point blank, or so incredulously, you start to question your own confidence on the matter pretty quickly!

To make a long story short, she showed me how to diaper my new little bundle of joy and packed us up, new car seat and all, to start our journey. I laugh now at how nervous we were taking her into the big world. My husband drove, I sat in back. He slowly maneuvered the city streets- easing carefully in the stops and goes so as not to disturb the baby. I just sat and watched her. Shielded her eyes from the sun and held her head in place so it didn't loll to the side on the corners. Wow, we were so green!

How does one become a mother? With no training and no experience, how does one fill those enormous shoes? For starters, I was shocked by the natural ability, the innate, genetic, instinctual, powerful force that shapes the body and spirit of a mother. There is an intuitive force, something in our DNA, that same something that women 1,000 years ago experienced, and it springs to life in motherhood. Things that you didn't know you knew, somehow come to you. The very first day I held my child, I had the ability to calm her. She knew that I was her mother and it was truly amazing.

But eventually, maybe after 5 sleepless nights, maybe after walking the floor for 8 hours, maybe after getting spit up on for the 3rd time in 10 minutes, instinct doesn't cut it. You're tired, confused, frustrated and you wake up the next morning only to wash, rinse, repeat.

That's when it's time to call in the back up troops and my troops were amazing. It's funny how women have this unspoken code. Neighbors, friends, family and even strangers, flock together to help their fallen comrades. I know some amazing mothers! Friends, sisters-in-law, coworkers, aunts, my mother-in-law, and most of all, my own amazing mom. In retrospect, our whole lives leading up to motherhood really is our training. By experiencing the mothers we know, we see what to do, when to do it, and most of all, how to love. My mom has taught me so much. She taught me how to be a good, honest person. She taught me how to find a bargain. She taught me to be self reliant and hardworking. She taught me to use a sewing machine. She taught me how to love life. She taught me to do algebra. She taught me to be spiritual and independent. She is incredibly creative and successful, and I only hope I can be the same for my daughter.

Happy Mother's Day to my mother and all of the hardworking mothers I know!

Thanks to my husband for an awesome Mother's Day!!!

Week 14: Vol 2, A rainy day

(Image: cover art from Gust: The tale wind of Office Politics)

What a rainy day, literally and figuratively. Literally, we have had so much rain that the basement in our new house is taking on water. We're not talking break-out-the-sandbags, wade over to the stairwell water, but it's water and it's in our house, so it's bad.

Figuratively, it's a downpour of disappointment because the best class I have taken at Drake came to an end this evening Tim Johnson's (recently highlighted in the Des Moines Register) Creativity for Business class was wacky, entertaining and most of all, applicable to life and work. He's the type of teacher that I mentally study because when I am teaching someday, I hope to be as effective and engaging. He taught me that Dr. Suess can be read by MBA's, that learning doesn't have to happen just in the classroom, and that grown men can pull off a bunny suit. I learned through his wide variety of guest speakers that I have a "sensitive aura," that rodeo guys are indeed truly nuts (in a most respectful way of course) and that known killers do walk the streets of Des Moines.

Other bits of advice I picked up: find a mentor, be a mentor, network, utilize blogs, be generous with feedback, have a sense of humor, stay humble, find teachable moments in unpredictable circumstances, I could go on and on...

One of the things I will really take away is to have a brand. A brand that is Beth. What am I to other people? What does my story say? If I could put it on glossy pages in a little hard-backed book I think it would have bright illustrations in a loose, rhyming lingo. I don't know why, it just seems right.

After taking this class, I want so badly to accomplish new things. I want to grab the ideas floating in my mind and put them to work. I want to see change and dare I say greatness? I learned that "Sometimes you have to get an 'A' in failure." I want to take chances instead of wondering what might have been.

Thanks Tim for a great semester! Keep in touch!

Week 14: vol 1: Are you kidding?

What do you want to be when you grow up? That is a question you hear when you are 8, 18, and even for me, at 28. I work in admissions. That is what I do for a LIVING. It's my CAREER. Is it that hard to believe? Time after time, well-meaning families that I am working with, assume that this is my transition job until I find the real thing. I'm not sure why. I guess because you don't usually go to college to major in "admissions." Well, I was a religion and philosophy major and as it turns out, you can't just go down to the town square to find a job in the "Religion shop." I fell into admissions, but as I have stated before, it's a challenging, rewarding and creative job, so I imagine I'll stick with it awhile!

This is the time of year that high school kids are thinking a lot about their future. I don't mean just picking the right color of vest and tie to go with the dates prom dress. I mean picking a college. I have seen students wrestle, in emotional agony, over which college to choose. I have worked with some amazing families who will be sending their sons/daughters to Simpson College this fall. And, I have worked with students who have given me every excuse under the sun why they won't be attending.
-"So and so has a better (insert major here) program."
-"It's too far from home."
-"It's too close to home."
-"I know too many people going there."
-"I don't know anyone else going there."

You get the idea. Some excuses are legit, some are terrible. At least half of the students I recruit plan to be a doctor or lawyer. They agonize over which college has the best program. They meet with professors, looking for that shred of proof that if they attend, they will attain their dream. But, in all honestly, probably 5% actually persist. It's like they think picking the college with the best program assures them success. I hate to break it to 'em, IT'S TOUGH TO GET THROUGH! Any career that assures you will make a 6 figure salary is one that few people can actually get. I mean, if you have a 23 ACT or a 3.0 GPA, I'm sorry, you are not going to go to medical school. Period. No amount of making any admissions counselor, coach, or professor jump through hoops to prove they are the best college, is going to get you to your 8:00 class everyday or pass your Organic Chem final for you.

One Iowa college, I'll show incredible restraint and not mention them by name, uses any tactic imaginable to get students to enroll. They spin the truth. Bash other colleges. Promise unattainable internships because ONE time, 20 YEARS ago, somebody got that internship....(probably because they had an uncle who worked there in the first place...or some weird thing like that.) They recruit and promise positions to athletes that have no business playing anything other than middle-school kick ball. Blatantly cross the line on NCAA DIII regulations in regards to giving athletes scholarships and so on. I lost a student to them recently because they claim to have a better science program. I mean, it says so right on their website, in huge letters, "Listed in Peterson's Guide to Best Science Colleges." Now, Simpson may not be everything to everyone, but I can say with certainty that no other Iowa private college has a better science program. So I researched it. Yes, it turns out this college was listed as such. IN 1996!!!! 11 years ago!! Yet, there it is, displayed proudly. I'll admit, it's tempting to cross the line, say what it takes to get kids to enroll. But, at the end of the day, my job- my not so temporary- actual career track job, is to represent Simpson for what it is. A great place for great kids. I know it's not a perfect fit for everyone