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Center for Enlightened Leadership
 
THE LENS – A QUARTERLY E-NEWSLETTER/JOURNAL

Welcome to the seventh issue of The Lens. If you love nature, beautiful photographs and inspiring music... you're going to love this four minute inspirational movie from Simpletruths.com.

This past fall, Paul Houston and I facilitated a retreat on the Spiritual Dimension of Leadership at Bedford Springs, PA for the superintendents of Allegheny County. Chuck Erdeljac, superintendent of the Riverview School District wrote a wonderful invocation for the opening dinner session. It is with gratitude to Chuck that I share it with you below.

- Stephen L. Sokolow, Executive Director

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Not Just a Walk in the Park
By PAUL D. HOUSTON

A Spiritually Conscious Leader…In Obama We Trust
By STEPHEN SOKOLOW

President Obama! My Faith in Democracy Renewed
By ADAM SOKOLOW

Great Teaching Is Great Storytelling
By DOMENICO PIAZZA

‘Trustworthiness’: How Can We Rebuild Broken Trust and Build New Dreams?
By WARREN PHILO ELMER

Using Life’s Lessons in a Totally New Way
By TOM VONA

Who Do You Trust?
BY CLAIRE SHEFF KOHN

Dorothea Mary McFarlane Connolly, My Mother
By KATHLEEN ALFIERO

Incestuous Amplification
By BART PASTERNAK

A Father’s Gratitude (Tempered with Intention)
By ROBERT W. COLE

Letters to the Editor
From Our Readers

A Leader's Prayer

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Not Just a Walk in the Park
By PAUL D. HOUSTON

  Dr. Paul. D. Houston
  Dr. Paul D. Houston
Founding Partner

A few months ago I had the pleasure of visiting the amazing country of Rwanda. Most of us know of it because of the genocide that occurred there in 1994 and was memorialized in movies like Hotel Rwanda and Sometimes in April. Somewhere between one and two million people were slaughtered while the world watched and failed to act. After World War II and the Holocaust, the password was “never again”—and yet we have seen Bosnia, Rwanda, and Darfur in just the last two decades. “Never” is sometimes not such a long time.

While in Rwanda, I visited several of the mass graves where hundreds of thousands of Rwandans were killed by their fellow countrymen—often neighbors and even relatives. Most of the killings were done with machetes, so the slaughter was up close and personal in a way that most holocausts are not. Much of the genocide was created by the colonial powers that had run the country for years. At first the Tutsis had been installed as the leaders in Rwanda. The colonial overlords then reversed course and installed the Hutus, who had previously been under Tutsi control, as the new leaders. Payback was exacted as the world stood by and let the killing happen.

At one of the mass burial sites, visitors are allowed to go down into the graves. I expected to see coffins, as I had seen at another site. Instead, I saw shelf upon shelf containing countless thousands of skulls and bones of those who had been murdered. As I climbed out of the grave, I felt the weight of those souls closing in around me. To call it a sobering experience would be a massive understatement.

On the brighter side, while in Rwanda I also went on the gorilla trek into the Virunga National Park. Virunga (the word means volcanoes) borders Rwanda, the Congo, and Uganda; it is the home of most of the surviving mountain gorillas in the world. This area was memorialized in the movie Gorillas in the Mist, which told the story of Dian Fossey’s attempts to protect the mountain gorillas.

To get to the gorillas’ territory, you must climb the side of a volcano under the guidance of trackers and guides provided by the government. The volcano was shrouded in clouds, and it was a bit eerie to climb over the stone fence surrounding the park and begin the trek through the misty jungle. After several hours of climbing we came upon the family of gorillas that we were to spend some time with. As we watched them thrashing around the bushes, pulling down branches, beating their chests, and charging us in an effort to intimidate us, our hearts were beating fast, our adrenaline was flowing, and we were wondering if this was such a great idea. Their efforts at intimidation were quite successful. Suddenly, as I watched all the noise and activity, I realized that it felt familiar. It was just like a lot of school board meetings I had sat through! Think about it: Folks destroying stuff, beating their chests in pride, and rushing the podium with words, if not actions, to gain an advantage. Once I was able to put what I was seeing in that context, my heart slowed down and I felt at ease.

It was a magical experience to be next to these magnificent creatures, to be in their world, with no fences or guards to intercede in the moment. The most important direction we had been given by our guide was that we shouldn’t look the gorillas directly in the eye. If they came toward us, we were instructed to get down and make ourselves as small as possible, so that they could see that we recognized their dominance. When we were charged by one of the silverbacks, we scrambled to get as small as possible, cowering in the jungle undergrowth. Several of the ladies in our group were quite surprised when, after they had sat down to be as low as possible, the silverback sat down with them and started playing with their hair.

During our time with the gorillas, one of the silverbacks tried to get cozy with one of the female gorillas. I guess he wanted to play with her hair. In each gorilla family there is one dominant silverback, and this guy wasn’t him. The big guy, the true head of the family (our guide François called him “the President”), immediately went after the upstart and “punished” him by biting him pretty severely on the neck. Once again the issue of dominance was thrust before us.

As we went down the mountain, hacking our way through the undergrowth, I thought about what the week in Rwanda had meant to me. I realized that the genocide and the preceding holocausts and every war I had ever studied all sprang from the same source: our desire to dominate. The need of humans to be on top, to be the one who decides who gets what and who benefits from the spoils of victory and who lives and dies—these desires and needs are really no different than what we see in the animal kingdom.

And yet it should be different. We humans believe that we were made in God’s image—that we have a soul, that we were touched with a spark from the divine. How then can we continue to kill our fellow humans? For that matter, how can a truly enlightened leader use his or her position for dominance when what is needed in most situations and organizations is compassion and caring? When it comes down to all that, we have nothing to thump our chests about. It is probably about time that we left the gorillas in the mist and came out of the jungle and started living up to our divine potential.

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A Spiritually Conscious Leader…In Obama We Trust
By STEPHEN L. SOKOLOW, Reiki Master

  Dr. Stephen L. Sokolow
  Dr. Stephen L. Sokolow
Executive Director and Founding Partner

 On the night of his acceptance speech, Barack Obama succinctly put forth the difficulties his administration would be confronting: “two wars, a planet in peril, and the worst financial crisis in a century.” Why then do I feel such a deep sense of well-being and optimism? And why were there spontaneous outpourings of joy and people dancing in the streets in countries near and far? There are many reasons for the jubilation, of course, but as a person who has been considering the spiritual dimension of leadership for some time, I would like to share a perspective with you.

For many reasons that have been widely written and talked about but not fully appreciated, on November 4, 2008, the world changed in a fundamental and far-reaching way. With Barack Obama’s election the American people collectively lit a candle in the midst of the darkness to usher in a new day and a new era. At some level deep down, people the world over sensed that with Obama at the helm a brighter, more positive future was not only possible but that we could actually help to create it. As an educator, I subscribe to the adage “And the Children Shall Lead Them.” And in this election the voices of the children were loud and clear. More than any other group, young people saw the possibility of realizing their hopes and dreams under an Obama presidency. Of the 19- to 24-year-olds who voted in the election, more than two-thirds voted for him!

In our Declaration of Independence we assert “…that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.” This sentence encapsulates the American Dream, a dream that resonates within us and our brothers and sisters around the world. Our spirits are lighter and brighter because Barack Obama is the living embodiment of that dream. On the night of his acceptance speech in Chicago’s Grant Park, he gave voice to the dream by declaring, “If there is anyone out there who doubts that America is a place where all things are possible; who still wonders if the dream of our Founders is alive in our time; who still questions the power of democracy, tonight is your answer.” Barack Obama is a spiritually conscious human being, and he is the leader of the free world. No wonder there is hope and joy and jubilation throughout our land.

Barack is not only an inspirational leader and transformative leader, he is a spiritually conscious leader. He embodies the wide range of spiritual principles of leadership that Paul Houston and I write about, including: hope, gratitude, service, a focus on the positive possibilities, compassion, fighting for what’s right, balancing head and heart, unity, integrity, belief in a higher power, empowering and uplifting others, and a sense of purpose, among others. Paul and I believe that embodying the spiritual principles of leadership increases the likelihood that a leader will do the right things, in the right way, at the right time, for the right reasons—in short, that a leader guided by these principles will function as a wise and enlightened leader.

But there is a question as to whether we will recognize spiritual leadership while it is unfolding as a work in progress. In a complex world with competing values, wisdom and good judgment are not always easily discernible. Tackling complex problems often requires a long-term rather than short-term view. Sometimes actions that are painful and unsettling in the short term actually make things better in the long term. Which leads to one of the fundamental spiritual principles of leadership: trust.

On many occasions Obama has talked about trusting the American people, of restoring trust between the American people and their government, and of restoring the trust in America throughout the world. We sense in Barack a person of integrity, a person who not only preaches spiritual values but lives them. But for him to succeed we need to give him a gift: the gift of our trust. It is easy to say, “I’ll give you my trust when you’ve earned it.” It is harder to give trust as a gift. If we trust Obama to lead us out of the darkness to a new and better place, we must believe that he will honor that trust and do everything within his power to justify our faith and trust in him. He himself has said that he is human and will make errors. Though he may stumble along the way, remember his words on election night, “I will get you there.” The “there” was left undefined, but resounded with hope and possibility. Together we can create the “there” we want. All of us want results: wars resolved, a thriving economy, and the planet no longer in peril. If we are patient and give our new President the trust and support he needs, that trust will empower him. Under his enlightened leadership, we will create the change we voted for, and a new, more spiritually conscious era will unfold.

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President Obama! My Faith in Democracy Renewed
By ADAM SOKOLOW

  Adam Sokolow
  Adam Sokolow
Senior Advisor

November 4, 2008, 11 p.m.—as the West Coast polls closed, Barack Obama was declared the next President of the United States of America. I had been staring at my TV for 4½ hours. A great weight lifted from me, and I felt the need to revel in the world’s collective good fortune, so I headed for the spontaneous celebrations in Times Square. Shouting, laughter, the echoing cadence of car horns trumpeting: O-Bam-A! O-Bam-A! I knew that this night was going to be another time when New York City would express its collective best.

I was also here on 9/11, 2001, when strangers opened their hearts to pray and pay homage at improvised candlelit memorials with messages and photos on what seemed like every tree trunk, lamppost, and fire hydrant: Have you seen my son? Please contact…; My friend was last seen at…; Please call me with any news. I was here, too, during the 24-hour blackout when people emptied their warming refrigerators and set up impromptu street cafés in the middle of the night to offer food and drink to passers-by.

New York City, whose people, determined and focused, will pass by you with not so much as a glance, but who will, during extraordinary times, reach out to one another both in need and in celebration. I walked south on Broadway greeting and being greeted with smiles and raised hands in spontaneous salutation, and on everyone’s lips: Obama! Obama! Obama!

I was happy to be part of the crowd at Times Square. Phoning my brother Steve and waving up into the sky, I said, “Hi, I’m one of those people on your TV. It’s like The Lord of the Rings where the Dark Ring of malevolent power has been dropped back into the fiery pits of Mordor.” I phoned a dear friend in Colorado and sang the song from The Wizard of Oz: “Ding dong! The Wicked Witch is dead!”

As I walked home, however, something was gnawing at the edges of my jubilant mood. The day before I had received a call from an ex-girlfriend, someone I still care for. I hadn’t heard from her in over a year. I expected good cheer but instead it was if I was speaking to a right-wing zealot. After asking me who I was supporting for President, she called me a bleeding-heart liberal and berated me for supporting a socialist. I hadn’t expected the vitriol and was thrown off balance. I should have just kept quiet and let her vent, or made a humorous retort like “Why, Sarah Palin, what an unexpected surprise!”

Instead I became defensive and told her she was out of her mind, that I knew more about what was going on than she did, and that she was just plain wrong. Her response before hanging up: “You’re pretty stupid telling me how smart you are.” My good mood turned to disbelief and rage. I felt personal defeat. How could someone so close to me be so far away spiritually? Why didn’t I have better control of myself? How could I have allowed a petty remark to so disturb my moment of living history?

The day after Election Day, I awoke early as usual and headed to Central Park for 45 minutes of fast walking. I had reached a familiar section of the park called the Ramble; its twisting pathways had been designed to allow the walker to feel lost in the woods. I wasn’t lost, however. I was preoccupied and uncomfortable, my attention pulled inward. I still felt wounded, sucker punched into disappointment, and saddened by that conversation with my old friend.

One benefit of my daily meditative practice is that it helps me to develop a baseline experience of open space, clarity, and joy that becomes the standard for the rest of the day. So I was quite aware that I was perseverating about that phone call two days earlier. Consequently, I shifted from fast walking to a slower-paced walking meditation. Walking meditation is a means for me to regain my groundedness in the present moment, by becoming present to what I am experiencing directly through my senses. The whole point of the exercise is to not think about anything, but just to give myself over completely to pure attention; observing my surroundings in this way enables me to reexperience the world anew. The same paths that I have walked so many times lose their familiarity, creating an entirely new experience filled with wonder, wherein ordinary moments become transformed into magic: the screech, chirp, and warble of birdsongs, paths covered with golden leaves crunching underfoot, the play of sunlight and shadow on the trunks and limbs of majestic tall trees, canopies of multicolored fall foliage silhouetted against the autumn sky, the scamper of squirrel claws on a tree limb, the texture and fragrance of moist soil, the feel of the crisp autumn air on my skin—all emerge distinct and sparkling within an all-inclusive panoramic experience of the pristine natural world.

Suddenly, as I was toggling in and out between being present to enchantment and brooding over being emotionally broadsided by my former girlfriend, I came face to face with a wild turkey. Central Park, which is on the migration path for over 500 different species of birds, serves as a posh bird hotel for avian travelers. And at any given time of the year birds are drawn to the Ramble for its protective foliage, ponds, and seed. Though it’s one of my favorite places in the park, I had never before seen a wild turkey. Yet there it was—pecking about right at my feet and nonchalantly looking me right in the eyes.

In the surprise of that moment, everything became clear to me. I smiled and said aloud, “You’re lucky, turkey, but take care around Thanksgiving.” I chided myself for losing my spiritual equilibrium—my annoying phone call paled in comparison to the dangerous life of being a wild turkey taking a brief respite in Central Park. It became clear to me that I was indulging myself in a false notion of reality, complaining that life wasn’t perfect, that something had intruded into the midst of my perfect moment. I actually broke out laughing in my sudden recognition that that’s just the way life is. We rarely get everything we want; in those rare moments when we do, we shouldn’t think that that’s the way life is always supposed to be. Learning to take the good with the bad is part of the whole plan, and, at this moment in time, the good so much overwhelmed the bad that I felt a bit embarrassed for my complaint.

I emerged from the Ramble more realistic, more grounded. My emotional wound, like a drop of water on a hot skillet, evaporated into a mist of insightful laughter. The world was truly new again: The American public had chosen Barack Obama! My faith in democracy renewed, I looked forward to the future. I was no longer trying to deny the totality of my experience. And within this context I really began to feel compassion for my former girlfriend. As the whole world celebrated Obama’s victory, she was living personal defeat as if her world were falling apart. That’s just the way it is. And in my heart I wished her peace.

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  Domenico Piazza
  Domenico Piazza
Senior Associate

 What if we defined great teaching as great storytelling? This would set up an interesting perspective on an ancient art. For centuries, sages passed on wisdom through the art of the well-crafted story. We have all encountered the Odyssey by Homer and the Platonic dialogues. These wonderfully fashioned tales were designed to engross listeners and to teach a lesson at the same time. We love good stories, especially ones whose meanings are revealed over time. They linger with us and haunt our thoughts and dreams. As you think about it, all the great oral and written classics have become a living voice deep in our psyches; they show up in many ways in our behaviors. In modern times, the cinema has nearly replaced the oral and written traditions, yet they are part of the same tradition.

What is it about these stories that we cannot resist? What do stories teach us that keep us coming back for more? If we could begin to unravel this ancient mystery, might we attempt to capture its power and harness its energy in the art of teaching? I think so. Actually, as I reflect on the most powerful learning experiences in my life, most arrived in the form of well-delivered stories that started a whole new line of thinking and a fresh, broader perspective on life.

How do great stories work? James Bonnet, in Stealing Fire from the Gods, explores the art of screenwriting, and storytelling in general. He reveals a “natural creative story-making process” that uses conscious and unconscious creative powers and looks at the nature and purpose of stories. What he discovers is that they have the power to transform both the lives of the storyteller and those who experience the story.

As the works of Carl Jung and Joseph Campbell have revealed, myths and stories that connect with us have embedded in them “eternal psychic dimensions, their structures, their hierarchy, their conflicts, and their goals.” So, the great story resonates with archetypal characters that not only entertain us, but also inform us about our own struggles and journeys through life.

What a wonderful description of master teaching!

We can play with this notion and see if the content in the average classroom could be perceived as material for storytelling.

• I think a case could be easily made for the humanities, with their epic tales from literature and chronicles of sweeping social change and explosive battles. What great history or English teacher could resist designing these archetypal events as stories that reveal their repeating pattern of the human condition? After all, is it not the patterns of human behavior that we are really examining in the arts?

• And what about science? Is not science the very story of life, as we all know it? The physicist, as well, takes us on a journey into the very center of the universe and provides a guided tour of seemingly indestructible matter as it appears and disappears, only to return in new clothing.

• What is math but an exquisite language about life? Mathematicians hold the power of numerical entities that help us predict, unlock, and describe the way the world works. Einstein combined great mathematical skills with a vivid visual imagination. He created an image in his mind, like an artist, and then applied math to verify its truth. In a real way, great mathematicians and scientists are poets and narrators of the majesty of existence with all its hidden pulses, flows, collisions, and magic.

There are many mysteries to be solved by future generations; our current stories point the way but cannot finish the plot. They have the intrigue of a well-written serial. Tune in tomorrow to see what will be revealed. And we cannot resist. Is that not the essence of learning? Fitting the pieces together little by little with the hope of approaching something we can temporarily call “truth.”

Teachers will finally be encouraged to reveal the cycle of stories that track the human journey—how patterns of individual behavior are writ large in the historical and scientific records. Teachers of history will open up for students the imperfect stories of nations, including our own, and let students see that nations often behave badly and sometimes nobly and that countries and borders are entities created by humans that we treat as natural phenomena.

I once had a math teacher who, before teaching us geometry, took us on the walking path that passes under the George Washington Bridge in Fort Lee, New Jersey. He asked us to sit down with pencil and paper and draw the shapes we saw in the bridge’s construction. When we compared drawings, it became clear that the most repeated shape we all saw and drew was the triangle. My own appreciation of the powerful triangle remains for me from that experience.

The story of math can be told effectively from the right-brain experience in the real world, from the right brain’s gift for hands-on learning. Here is where we get the long shelf life of knowledge, from its embeddedness in the world of real experience.

In science presentations in an inner-city high school, I saw students presenting a series of models constructed of wire and Styrofoam balls that represented the double helix. I also witnessed a puppet show presented by students explaining the structure of atoms, with the puppets representing their atomic constituents. The other students sat rapt in the wonder of it all, laughing and pointing at the workings of the subatomic world. These were second-semester seniors sharing their projects, teaching their peers. The puppet show had a story line, complete with villains and heroes. It had a beginning, middle, and end. It had humor and, at one point, a hint of tragedy. Students rooted for their favorite characters and moaned when some chemical shift eliminated or transformed one of the players.

Great teaching is great storytelling. Only here, the storytellers were the students.

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‘Trustworthiness’: How Can We Rebuild Broken Trust and Build New Dreams?
By WARREN PHILO ELMER

  Warren Philo Elmer
  Warren Philo Elmer
Associate

When I look at the current state of economic and personal affairs in the U.S., one component that seems to be in precipitous decline is our level of trust. Across the board, in all parts of American society. It’s not hard to understand how our trust has been broken. Our challenge is how we are to rebuild our belief in institutions and in each other.

When you think about it (and I have been), the English language embraces the concept of trust on so many levels:

• We trust in a higher power.

• We trust in the free market system (though probably not as much as we did before recent events).

• We trust in the American Dream.

• We have objects special to us that are held in trust.

• Even the marketing gurus bandy about the notion of trust. Maybe you’re not old enough to recall the Texaco commercial: “You can trust your car to the man who wears the star.”

When we speak of trust, in profound ways we’re speaking of such core ideas as faith, belief, hope, and confidence. I found it enlightening to look up the definitions of “trust” in my thesaurus; they include believing in the inherent good in individuals, and our trusting and relying on the positive and good qualities in each other as well as our society.

I spent many years working with people in all kinds of groups and settings, offering team- and trust-building activities both physical and emotional. I learned firsthand how much more difficult it became to be regarded as “trustworthy” when trust had once been broken. It was so much easier to build a sense of reliance, positive expectation, and mutual dependence with a group of complete strangers than to rebuild it with an extant group when those positive qualities had been lost.

Some of the most amazing teams I’ve ever had the privilege of working with were teams of strangers thrown into intriguing and sometimes stressful situations. We once back-boarded an injured hiker off a 14,000-foot peak over several miles of tortuous terrain, with a score of people who did not know each other and who had little if any expertise in the challenge they were forced to surmount. And yet these same strangers showed themselves to be “gold-medal winners.” And some of the most challenging groups I ever worked with were those whose trust had been betrayed by negative interpersonal behaviors—often in the workplace. They could come back to rebuild their confidence in each other, but it took a deep willingness to let go of enough of the past, the blame, and personal self-interest.

What does this say about our capacity as human beings to work together and be trustworthy? Both individually and collectively, I believe, we have to show in our behaviors that we are worthy of trust. Obviously, one of the paramount qualities of highly effective leaders is getting others to trust you so that they will be willing to “follow you up that hill.” If we are to follow a leader, however, we need to believe that they know what they’re doing and that—at least conceptually—they’ve been there before.

In our nation, we have been here before in difficult times, and once again we find ourselves in the most trying of times. Our faith, our ability to trust, has been deeply challenged by events and behaviors and deeply flawed leadership. Our new President is compelling us to feel hope again. He is asking us to trust in the possibilities, to have faith in the abilities of himself and of those he is selecting to help him—and in our own capacity and abilities. All of us are being asked to change, to transform the way that we work with each other.

I believe that we are poised for some serious challenges that may in fact bring out the best in most of us, and that only through countless, personal steps may we again find our institutions, culture, and each other to be truly trustworthy. This process of rebuilding is really about one step at a time, one relationship, one trustworthy act at a time, so that we can collectively rebuild a sense of hope and faith in each other. Therefore, each one of us needs to find, each day, ways of reaching out, “reaching across the aisle,” reexamining our relationships and believing that we all really want the same things. Fear is what keeps us from trusting and loving. I think that old FDR had it exactly right: “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.”

So let us all, as compassionate people, believe that hope and faith and being trustworthy can overcome all ills. We may well find ourselves at a most awesome moment of transformational change in our world. But change by its nature is not easy; it really is up to us!

Here’s to a brighter tomorrow.

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Using Life’s Lessons in a Totally New Way
By TOM VONA

  Dr. Thomas Vona
 

Dr. Thomas Vona
Senior Associate and Mentor

Pathways to Teaching in New Jersey program, I have come across all types of students. They have ranged in age from their 20’s to their 60’s and have come from all walks of life. They have decided to go into teaching for a variety of reasons, and the vast majority of them have gone on to become outstanding teachers.

One very exceptional man in my class this year retired recently from a well-known firm where he served as chief financial officer for a number of years. (If I named the firm, you would know it.) Tobias (not his real name) has had a tremendously successful career; he could be doing anything he wanted to do right now, including relaxing with his family on an island somewhere fishing all day long.

What he chose to do, however, was to register for the New Pathways program—a demanding graduate-level alternate-route teacher training program—and, more important, to teach mathematics in an inner-city high school. He has chosen not to pursue positions in suburban districts because he wants to teach in an inner-city district and try to make a difference there. First, he went to great lengths to have his Certificate of Eligibility issued as speedily as possible by the State Department of Education (not always an easy task). Then he had to convince the urban school district where he wanted to teach to hire him. He also attended the second stage of the New Pathways classes voluntarily until he procured his desired teaching assignment.

Tobias was clearly a man on a mission, and his unique life experiences in the business world provided him with the initiative and fortitude to keep on doing whatever he had to do until he had everything in place to begin his second career: teaching high school mathematics to inner-city youths.

Not surprisingly, when he finally started teaching, Tobias found that teaching these students was not such an easy endeavor. He had no preconceived notions that the task was going to be easy, but I don’t think he realized how difficult it was really going to be. He has no intention of giving up, however, and will still not consider a position in a district where he would find it much easier to teach. He has been trying a wide range of teaching methodologies and classroom management techniques to reach his students. He has not lost hope or given up on any of his students— even the most recalcitrant ones—in any way. Where other teachers repeatedly throw the troublemakers out of class at the first sign of trouble, Tobias continually tries to work with them and establish connections. If one strategy doesn’t work, he tries another one. Every problem he faces becomes a springboard for his future growth as a teacher. He realizes that he is constantly being tested, but he’s aware that the only way he will learn and grow as a teacher is through facing the various challenges that come his way.

All of the students in one of Tobias’ classes failed algebra the first time they took it. Many of them do poorly because they are absent so often. Tobias’ demeanor in the classroom, the interest he takes in each of his students, and the kindness he shows them are slowly having an effect on even his most intractable students. They have no idea who Tobias was in his past life or how much of a change this teaching position is for him. What they are seeing is a man who cares about them, one who is working very hard, one who is going out of his way for them. He knows what the world has to offer. He knows how far one can go with a good education. He himself did not have the easiest time in school himself because he had dyslexia, something that was not commonly recognized at that time. Because of caring and capable teachers who took the time to work with him and used their life experiences to his benefit, he has been able to accomplish a great deal in his life. He wants to do the same for his students.

This very talented, capable, and successful man, by all the standards with which we measure success in the world in which we live, will continue to grow as a teacher and have a positive impact on the many fortunate students who pass through his classes. Perhaps his greatest successes are yet to come.

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Who Do You Trust?
By CLAIRE SHEFF-KOHN

  Claire Sheff-Kohn
 

Claire Sheff-Kohn
Senior Associate and Mentor

Who Do You Trust? was a fairly popular game show during the 1950s and 1960s. Hosted by Johnny Carson and aired at 3:30 in the afternoon, it attracted young viewers like me. My girlfriend and I would rush home each day after school to catch the next segment, in which three pairs of contestants—usually a man and a woman in each pair—would compete for prize money by answering questions. Part of the game was to decide if one trusted oneself to answer the question more than his/her partner. Though we really liked the repartee between Johnny and the competitors most of all, my friend and I also were interested in the dynamics of trust between the partners.

Here’s my larger point in recalling this game show: So who (or whom, really) do you trust?

Well, it turns out that we are “hard-wired” to decide immediately whom we trust! According to cognitive scientists, we are unaware of the instant judgments we make when we interact with other people—and they, in turn, when they’re sizing us up in just the same way. This hard-wired assessment, which apparently originated in our early days as a species, provided a means of survival. It has a profound effect today on our relationships with others, both in our personal and professional lives.

However, with deception at an all-time high—the most recent example being Wall Street investment manager Bernard Madoff, accused of swindling billions of dollars from trusting investors—can we still trust our instincts?

For example, I worry about what the possible effects of the evolution of online communities and virtual social worlds, where people are not always whom they seem to be, on everyday face-to-face interactions. Deception is an accepted behavior in cyberspace. For example, Second Life is a 3-D virtual world created by its residents. Since opening to the public in 2003, it has grown explosively and today is inhabited by millions of virtual residents from around the globe. Residents are encouraged to “fantasize or idealize themselves.” In social networks and online games played by a huge number of people worldwide, deception has become commonplace.

In an article in Media Post Blogs, author Steve Smith quotes Lina Zhou, an associate professor in the Department of Information Systems at the University of Maryland, Baltimore County:

"Interpersonal deception is traditionally discussed in the context of a physical world, where there exist moral standards that have been developed over a long time to constrain individuals’ behavior. For example, everyone is expected to tell the truth. In a virtual world, such a standard may not exist— or the routine of practice could be different.

Smith goes on to say that “in some online games, it is acceptable for a player to win or to gain advantages by deception, which does not violate our moral standards.”

If we already have people acting so dishonestly (like those in the financial markets), what hope do we have that society will not deteriorate further if online behavior becomes everyday behavior?

In my quest for some hope on the horizon, I discovered another new magazine, Greater Good, which describes itself as providing “a new voice of compassion, hope, and inspiration.” It publishes four issues a year, which are “focused on scientific research into the roots of altruistic human relationships,” and then tying that research to inspirational stories. The underlying goal: “to highlight the strides we’re making (and obstacles we’re encountering) toward becoming a more benevolent society.” The most recent issue explores the theme of trust. The magazine notes, “Trust is essential to families, friendships, governments, businesses, and even the global economy—and yet it has been declining for years.” In the lead article, “America’s Trust Fall,” authors Pamela Paxton and Jeremy Adam Smith report that trust is essential to strong relationships and a healthy society, but it has been declining for decades; they ask, “How can America learn to trust again?” If you want to find out what they have to say about five ways you can rebuild trust, check out America's Trust Fall (PDF).

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Dorothea Mary McFarlane Connolly, My Mother
By KATHLEEN ALFIERO

  Kathleen Alfiero
 

Kathleen Alfiero
Associate

My mother’s voice and tone are sweeter than ever. When she speaks, I feel good. That’s not what I’ve always said.

“What are you doing?” Mom asked me the other day after I had given her a manicure. My mother frets less than she ever did; consequently, she has nails for the first time in her life.

“I’m going to write an article about positivity and trust,” I told her, staring at my computer. “I’m thinking about what I want to write.”

“Why don’t you write about me, dear?” Her suggestion surprised me. My mother has always been quite self-deprecating, and though there is still some of that tendency in her, she has changed these last few years. She even likes her hair.

There were many years that I wouldn’t have thought I’d ever choose to write about my mother and positivity (at the same time). Although there were some benefits to reviewing and facing the “stuff” from my past, I realize now that I was resisting being happy when I thought that focusing on things that I found challenging in my youth was the only way to grow and change. A lot of the time I was holding on to what I didn’t like about my mother and my relationship with her. I finally got that it that it didn’t really make me feel better to keep telling my old stories (to therapists, to friends, to my husband, to myself). There has been enough reviewing to make a listener’s ears bleed. I didn’t realize how much my mother and I would benefit from simply changing our thinking patterns.

My mother’s thought processes have altered substantially. She has dementia. We’ve been told it’s likely she has Alzheimer’s. It doesn’t matter what we call what her life is like now; it matters that she is happy and that we enjoy being with her. My thinking patterns have changed, too, because I intentionally pay attention to my emotions, which are my indicator of whether I’m thinking positive or negative thoughts. When I don’t feel good, I think a thought that gives me some relief. I like this new way a lot.

My family laughed our way through life even when things were tense. Thanks to Mom’s wit and great gift of seeing life from the funny side, we even had a good laugh about something only weeks after my father passed away unexpectedly at age 42.

“I can’t do it, Dad. I can’ t raise these kids alone,” I heard my mother say to her father while he was tucking her into bed the night my father died.

“Yes, sweetheart, you will find the strength,” Papa assured her confidently. My mother proved him right! Even though she was anxious and depressed for a long time, that isn’t what I think about now. Now I think about the love and great care that Mom gave me, my three sisters, and our brother. She did everything she could for us—she held a good job, came home every night to make dinner, sewed cool clothes for us girls, saved a little money to help each of us to go to college, and, most important, believed in us. She is a most amazing mother!

Choosing to appreciate and focus on Mom’s many positive aspects is a gift I give myself. I am living the new story of my mother and my relationship with her. My friends and relatives are enjoying the change too. Come to think of it, they look happier now when I am talking about Mom.

Each month, we each take a weekend to care for Mom. She had just enough kids to make this work. It’s occurred to us that it may have been her plan years ago (though being Catholic may have helped). We arrive for our “Dottie-Duty” Weekend (my brother came up with that name) early Friday evening, always toting bags filled with things we think are necessary to complete our existence away from our own homes for three days: computers, changes of clothes, food we like to eat, books to read, and, best of all, a good attitude. I think it’s safe to say that we all have done everything possible to make our mother believe she’s the only one that counts on this earth.

One consistent test of Mom’s state of mind has been the issue of where “home” is and how she is to get there without a car. Many days around 4 p.m., my sisters and I have driven Mom around the block with a bag she has packed with some things she insists she needs to take “home.” There’s always a different pair of shoes on this trip. One of Mom’s lifetime priorities has been to collect shoes. She tends to focus on them when she’s restless (which makes me think I need to work on my shoe fetish now). After driving around the block, we pull up to the house, declaring with forced enthusiasm, “We’re home!” We think this will do it, but it doesn’t always work. Sometimes she’s indignant and refuses to go back into the house, saying firmly, “This is NOT it!” Somehow she eventually ends up in her chair. We celebrate the small miracle.

What always works for mom when she’s in that confused place is whatever my brother says or does. My sisters and I attempt to replicate Vin’s successful approach, but it doesn’t work for us.

“I’ve got to get home,” Mom will say. “Let’s get going before it gets too dark.”

“Stand up, Mom,” Vinnie will say, chuckling. “Click your heels three times, turn around, and sit down. You’re home!” My mother laughs so hard that you’d think she was at a comedy club. Vinnie then gets her some ice cream. All is well. If I try that approach, before I know it I’m warming up the car.

This past Thanksgiving Day was my mother’s 89th birthday. She was born on Thanksgiving Day, 1919. Thank you, Mom. It’s wonderful to love you. I trust that you will always be well; when you pass on from this physical life, I know that you will experience the pure joy you deserve.

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Incestuous Amplification
By BART PASTERNAK

  Bart Pasternak
  Bart Pasternak
Guest Contributor

Now that the Bush administration is coming to an end, the analysis of what went wrong and why will begin in earnest. Clearly there had to be some fundamental flaw in an administration that couldn’t maintain the confidence of even its most ardent supporters.

The Bush policies and direction seemed to have a common thread. Only those who agreed with the administration’s inner circle were deemed loyal and invited to participate in the decision-making process. There seemed to be a three-legged structure. Some were ideologues who embraced a neoconservative philosophy combining a dominant world view with unbridled executive power. Others were free-market disciples who worshiped at the altar of self-correcting capitalism; this group believed that greed is good and uncontrolled greed would be checked by some force they couldn’t quite define. The last group comprised conservative Christians who believed that the government had an obligation to enforce fundamental moral precepts—as they defined them.

It is interesting that these competing philosophies were able to survive in such harmony. So long as 1) morality was seen as something to be imposed by government on the people rather than on the market process, and 2) the markets benefited from the vast amounts of government spending pushed by the neocons, and 3) the neocons flourished by being wrapped in both big-business support and moral justification, everyone was happy and the inner circle was in general agreement. This left no room, of course, for anyone who disagreed with any segment of the group. Anyone who challenged unbridled market excess was attacked as both unpatriotic (by the neocons) and immoral (by the Christian right). The same protection was available for attacks against the neocons or against the Christian right. It was a perfect system, a closed circle with no room for outside dissent. Any idea espoused by the inner circle was quickly adopted by all segments. Any dissent was squelched as either “liberal,” “unpatriotic,” or “immoral.” Therefore, no “outside” wisdom was considered. Every inside idea became better as it was endorsed by the inner circle until it became Gospel and unassailable—somewhat akin to the emperor’s proverbial new clothes.

This phenomenon is not new, and certainly not uncommon. It is however, the first time it has been adhered to so rigidly by a sitting President. Although the Nixon presidency had similar attributes, even Nixon gave ear to rational dissent, even when he chose to ignore it.

The process is called by many names, but I prefer incestuous amplification. “Incestuous” because only people with the same views get to participate, and “amplification” because each time the story is told it gathers intensity until it is so loud that no other sound can be heard.

Incestuous amplification can take place only when it meets the needs of the leader. It can be the result of insecurity (the leader trusts very few people and doesn’t want to be “confused” by alternative thoughts). It can result from the leader’s belief that his close advisors know more than he and therefore he lets them make key decisions. It can be the result of a leader who cannot deal with conflicting opinions, or it may be the result of a leader with such a huge ego that he wants only “yes men” around him.

Regardless of the motivation, the result is almost always the same: disaster!

For many years Motorola was the absolute leader in the world of cell phones. When analog technology was in vogue, Motorola had over 90% of the market. When digital technology was invented it was first offered to Motorola, which rejected it. The leadership at Motorola “knew” that no new technology could flourish without Motorola’s market position, and Motorola was deeply invested in analog technology. Since the leadership was only invested in analog, no one seeking to rise in the Motorola organization was going to preach digital. The leadership created an environment of blind adherence to corporate strategy. Everyone got along well with no dissent—and Motorola lost its position in the industry. It went from #1 to an also-ran. This can be described as corporate arrogance, but it is really evidence of leadership comfortable with incestuous amplification.

One of the principles of enlightened leadership is the leader’s desire to listen, and even more, to hear. Any leader who is unwilling to hear respectful dissent and consider the ideas of others who are also interested in the success of the venture is doomed to failure. Failure sometimes comes by slow death as the best people go elsewhere, leaving only sycophants in their wake, but too often it comes by catastrophic upheaval as the marketplace renders the venture irrelevant.

It is hard to be a leader. It is hard to hear your ideas challenged by those whom you brought to the table. It is hard to manage dissent and not allow the ship to wander too far off course. It is hard to abandon ideas in which you were deeply invested, when others can show them to be flawed. It is hard to embrace change that arises from below and make it your own while still acknowledging and respecting the source. It is hard to strive to be an enlightened leader. It is hard to subordinate your ego to the greater benefit of the endeavor.

We have a new leader in America. We can all pray that he has the wisdom to listen and to hear; to embrace dissent—and the courage to abjure incestuous amplification.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

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A Father’s Gratitude (Tempered with Intention)
By ROBERT W. COLE

  Robert W. Cole
 

Robert W. Cole
Managing Editor
and Senior Associate

This Thanksgiving I’m grateful that my son Mitch survived a car wreck that could easily have killed or crippled him. Cut off by another driver, he drove his Toyota pickup—my Toyota pickup—through a concrete wall in front of a fire station. Two surgeries, a collapsed lung, one new vertebra, and five fused vertebrae later, he’s walking. My miraculous Thanksgiving gift from the universe. The truck is dead and Mitchell Cole is not. Believe me, I’m thankful beyond what feeble words can express. And as a newly minted Reiki practitioner, I can help to heal my son. I need new words to express the depth of my gratitude. My heart is brimming.

As always, though, my head is brimming too. I find myself looking beyond gratitude to next steps. My monkey brain whispers, What can be learned from this? Since real life is most often not so simple as Dickens’ Christmas Carol (as the fictionist in me would prefer), between waves of gratitude I find myself asking if Mitch will emerge with a new grasp on the richness of life and, say, start wearing a seat belt. Or smack his forehead and cry out, “Thank you, Lord! What an opportunity!”

And I find myself thinking of a long-time friend who owns a small, struggling business. The long night of the Bush Administration has cut her business to the bone. She’s grateful just to be left standing as the Obama Era is poised to take charge. Like so many of us, she trusts (albeit tremulously) that our new President will care for more than high-stakes testing. In the meantime, she’s busily instituting measures to keep her business and the little family of people who depend on her afloat in today’s rough seas.

A decade or so ago, this same friend used to chide me gently for simply meditating and meditating and affirming the positive. “There’s more to it than meditation,” she said, adding that “God helps those who help themselves” (quoting Ben Franklin—like her, a tireless hard worker). She gave me a T-shirt from Glide Memorial Church in San Francisco bearing the slogan “Miracles Through Action.” I wear this shirt still, and I have come to believe what it tells me. Earlier in my life I merely surfed the waves that presented themselves to me; now I’m understanding, better every day, the power of intention.

So what am I trying to express? Maybe this: Yes, I honor the tremendous power of gratitude, of recognizing the unending gifts of the universe. I also respect the power of intentionality, of living to bring about results, of aiming at a target even at the risk of failing to hit it. I see the fusing of intentionality and a dynamic, positive vision as the driving forces of leadership. I’m staggered by the generosity of the universe in giving me back my child, unscathed but for two foot-long scars and sundry titanium rods and hooks and cages. Now I must trust that he will come to understand the gift he’s been given, and then create for himself worthy targets and truly use his own unique gifts and talents in trying to hit them. In the meantime, in the powerful Now, I’m expressing my gratitude and creating my own intent, and praying that Mitch will do the same.

***

Let’s have a conversation. Maybe, just maybe, we’ll really see one another—and learn wondrous new things about ourselves, and pass those precious learnings along to others. Send your stories—300-600 words, please—to literacy@mindspring.com.

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Letters to the Editor
From Our Readers

I must say, reading the articles in The Lens is such a privilege. Amidst our global financial wreckage, how inspiring to read the words by the members of CFEL. Robert's essay gave me goosebumps, as did Kathleen's. And what an uplifting message from Claire S.K. in this sea of dreadful news. I loved both the title and the personal stories about our presidential candidates in Paul Houston's article. From this issue, I have three new books to check out (thanks to Kathleen and Claire) and I want to find out more about the power of play (thank you Maybeth!).
- Erin O'Kelley Muck, Ashland, Oregon

Making decisions in the public realm are rarely without controversy and too often are made without the influence of a spiritual dimension. The thoughts of those who write for "The Lens" are helpful to those practitioners who rarely get encouragement for digging below the obvious and doing what is right and just. Surely, I join others in thanking you.
- Dr. Dave Magill, Chicago, Illinois

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A Leader's Prayer

By Charles Erdeljac

 

Lord, bless the work of our hands,

that we may see dignity in the laborer.

Bless the work of our hands and minds,

that we may see nobility in the craftsman and scientist.

Lord, bless the work of our hands, minds and hearts,

that we may see beauty in the artisan and artist.

Bless the work of our hands, minds, hearts and souls,

that we may see sanctity in the fullness of our humanity.

Lord, may you bless the Earth that gives us Life,

This food that sustains us in our relationships and work,

The good people who grow and harvest our food,

Who bring it to market, prepare it and serve it,

May it nourish us in this Community of Learners,

That we may discover our unique life lessons,

To provide leadership that manifests
Right intentions,
Right attention,
A holistic perspective,
Openness and Trust,
Hearts of Gratitude
and a Joyful Human Spirit

That unleashes the unique gifts and talents
of all those entrusted to our care and service. Amen.

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Center for Empowered Leadership ®
Email: info@cfel.org
Phone: 1.609.259.7911