You got this!

Crisis. Change. Seems like there's never an end to the bad news these days.

Yet, it doesn't seem like all that long ago when my highschool year book president sent a flyer home for all of us graduating seniors to fill out that Spring, requesting us to send back our 'personal motto' so she could dutifully print it under our Senior Pictures and profiles.

As a perhaps hyperly over-sensitive and hyper self-aware 17-year old kid who'd changed schools 10 times in three countries up to that point, I wanted to put something pithy down that could actually stand the test of time, for posterity's sake, something constant to endure. But I wasn't sure at first what to submit as I looked over the blank page and sipped my cup of Salada black tea, the brand I always made my mom buy because it had the cool tea bag tags with little philosophical sayings that made you feel a moment of giddyness in discovering your 'message' in the tea leaves, like when opening a Chinese Fortune Cookie.

Changing schools and towns so often, I had lived a life of nothing but re-adaptation EVERY YEAR it seemed, and while it didn't go as well for certain members of our family, I, for whatever reason, had always felt quite excited by the idea of change. By the possibilities in store...Even though change inevitably brought with it the heartbreak of leaving good people behind, just as you got to really know and like them, and spending many, many uncomfortable hours alone in my head, second-guessing who I was, what I stood for, and strategizing just how to re-fit in each summer and autumn with a whole new set of kids.

Perhaps that's why years later, I found myself drawn to working with young people. To share a little bit of guidance and reassurance, if at all possible. 'It's ok, you're not crazy- and you're not the only one going through this!' Especially when their peers would call them out for being 'weird' or 'odd' or worse, bullying and belittling them, to try to make them feel less than human, or simply as an 'outsider'.

That's how, as a result of doing this work, I found myself one morning in a situation that on the surface seemed so mundane. But in truth, I came to be shocked and deeply affected to this day by what a trusted client/colleague of mine shared with me that day -- the me that I thought had to be the 'on-the-surface' calm, cool, and capable founder / owner of a successful and reputed private art school and education franchise, such as my position was at the time.

From the day we met, I always really appreciated the authenticity of this woman, Laurie, a marvelous education leader and, at the time, the straight-talking Director of an influential youth services organization connected to Austin Texas's large and very diverse public school district. She was a rare person in the circle of public school clients I had. She was unaffected and honest, had no airs, nor none of the usual defensive, sometimes pompous, and almost always, distrusting attitude I often found myself up against as an 'outsider', the demeanor that I'd come to find so common in others in her position of authority across the city and the 125 schools with which we worked. (I was an 'outsider' because I was a for-profit business owner and, so, someone to be treated with much caution it seemed, because I was neither a school district employee nor a non-profit leader, and yet here I was trying to help with the mission to serve kids from less privileged backgrounds. Why? This was considered with much suspicion).

But Laurie was different from her other colleagues. And I truly cherished professional time with her for that, mostly because I knew I would always get the real deal from her about how our business was performing as a service and how we could improve. Refreshingly, she knew our business was actually an unusual but important part of the local solution for the students we all served in common.

So you can imagine how taken aback I was when she shared her very personal but insightful perspective out of the blue with me about working together that morning. At the time a small group of us was meeting semi-monthly.

We were wrestling to build an at-risk youth programming initiative. Our aim was to get increased recognition and much-needed funding from the state of Texas and the City of Austin to support kids who desperately needed an alternative to the dangers they faced home on their own between 3pm-6pm, left to their own devices. They were statistically amongst the most vulnerable of students, both without their working parents available to care for them, and without access to crucial afterschool programs to keep them stimulated and well-cared for by trusted providers to extend their time spent at school.

And Laurie's specialty was early identification and intervention for 'troubled and underprivileged youth'. It was her job to contract for and offer positive alternatives to those kids, to ensure they could stay in school and stay motivated, to have a shot at a better, productive future for themselves and others.

So, it was at one of these bi-monthly meetings when we found ourselves both by accident that day, a little earlier than the others for our team breakfast meeting. And, so to pass the time, she started to ask me a few more questions -- personal background type questions -- rather than just resorting to typical superficial chitchat that would have been easier. I guess she was just a bit more curious than the others, likely why she wound up as a respected director, but similar to the others, she knew I was a bit of an odd duck in the group.

'I'm just curious- it's so early, you had a long drive to get here. Can I ask you? Why do you care so much about this work with our kids? You run a for-profit, you're never going to get rich doing this work with us, so why are you here?'

I didn't have much of a great answer for her really. And, of course I felt my cheeks burn a bit as I knew I was on the spot and up against a lot of the unspoken (I imagined) distrust of my perplexing, but relentless attendance as the only consistent 'for-profit afterschool provider' in this committee of perennial non-profit local leaders. (A situation that usually left me feeling a bit like a character from the wrong side of the fence in animal farm...4 legs good, 2 legs bad...).

'I guess I'm here because afterschool programs not only saved me, but better than that, they just excited me. They allowed me to be who I wanted to be and keep learning more things about what I could become or later try out for fun in life. Even though I was still always considered the outsider or new kid, there was always a club or quirky activity I could try and it was fun! You know... I actually moved schools 10 years in a row and it always seemed like the best way to make good friends fast with the kids in each new place we moved to.'

She paused. She took a moment to compose her thoughts and slowly her eyes started to smile warmly first, before her mouth smiled back at me.

ME: 'What did I say?? (I laughed nervously and kept trying to explain)... 'For example Theatre was only available as an afterschool activity and it was awesome! I think I found it was amazing to feel I could try on being different people but still be part of a gang that welcomed me there, and was happy to include me, weird as I might have seemed as the new kid. And sports, too! I mean, I loved school and always did well in it, but kids couldn't talk to each other too much so afterschool time was really the place to be for me to get accepted. Maybe that seems weird or a little funny?' I asked, betraying way too many years of overthinking, self-doubt, and trying to adjust on the fly so as to be understood and fit in with those in front of me. It was something of a mastered art form by my late 30s -- knowing just how to leap over the proverbial unspoken and uncomfortable barrier of 'being new' when meeting a stranger on their side of the fence. I always did so with the hope and faith that we could not just understand each other, but maybe also connect, if I did my leaping skillfully enough to make them more comfortable with my being new and 'odd'.

HER: 'It's not funny at all, Geraldine.' She said. 'I'm just smiling because I understand perfectly and I'm happy to hear it.'

ME: 'What do you mean?' I asked, still not clear on what she had understood.

HER: 'Let me just say this. If you were a kid from one of my programs telling me all this, alarm bells would be going off for me all over the place. You'd be put on the 'one to watch carefully' list and your name would be passed around our office to be on alert for you. Did you know that moving even just once during childhood gives kids a much greater risk of falling into the category we now label as 'potentially troubled'? But, I don't think there is even a category for a kid that's moved as many as 10 times in 10 years...We would have had to have created an extreme 'at-risk' category just for you! Yet you've clearly succeeded against all the odds!'

I was pretty stunned, and still am, just thinking about her assessment of me. I had never thought of myself as being 'at-risk' let alone vulnerable, the way the kids are that we were all working hard to support with more and better pathways. Which is why I think I'm finding myself writing about this only now, almost 13 years later. It's a work story that only my husband knows really profoundly affected me, when I shared it with him that day, and a moment for which I'm really still deeply grateful to her for helping me recognize something new and important about myself.

That day, she confirmed something I had always known about myself to be true, but I didn't know why I was that way. She confirmed that just as we all have one, I, too, had a super power:

My particular super power is knowing how to be resilient and thrive in the face of extreme change.

Her sharing this was not just kind. It was a rare endorsement and life-affirming recognition of a much talked about but (at least in my experience to that point), a not-so-often esteemed 'soft' skill. And, this endorsement was coming from a person whose expertise at recognizing it was undeniable.

Her willingness to get curious and connect with me more deeply, more personally, over that early morning coffee, and get past the fence of assumption and prejudice that I'd experienced from almost all our colleagues in those meetings, meant the world to me. It was a really rare moment, and a deeply affecting one both professionally and personally, as I knew it meant that no matter what, she had really seen ME. And, why I was there. Even though it wasn't a comfortable moment for either of us pointing out how much of a fish out of water I always seemed to be within that group. Yet, she acknowledged and furthermore, appreciated, my unusual experiences that until then brought an unexplainable energy from me to our collective mission. More, importantly she was glad I was there participating. She finally made me feel like BECAUSE of my odd background, I was a far more valuable member of that team.

And that brings me to what I'm observing now and the question of being a valuable member of a team. Team Humanity. We all have a part to play. What's interesting and one of the only things we seem to have any control over these days amidst all the chaos, is HOW we choose to play our part on Team Humanity now.

I suppose in all that's happening now, with Corona Virus and Covid 19 and the health and economic crises, which are causing billions more personal crises concurrently, it brings to mind something we've no doubt all heard at some point: 'If it doesn't kill you, it will make you stronger' if not other such verbal memes to help us salve our self-doubt and nerves when things get rough like they are now. And it's hardly ever been rougher collectively all at once.

It's very likely many of us are not sure if or how we fit in with this brand new world that's emerging, or whether we can even cope like the heros in our hospitals or supermarkets seem to be doing so incredibly as we sit helplessly looking at the numbers growing exponentially from our quieter locked down homes and apartments. And if we can cope, it's still no given whether or how we will overcome all these great losses, changes, and crises.

It's pretty damn frightening, there's no denying that.

But I'm brought back full circle to that stunning yet quiet realization Laurie helped me uncover, about my own unusual super power and how what I do can possibly now be my part to play to help Team Humanity overcome all this:

I help people identify the biggest gaps and opportunities and help them thrive in the face of adversity and change. Be it for my son, my husband, our friends, or the business and professional leaders I work with, I help people thrive and be their best, against all odds.

It's my super power. I can't help it. Whether personally or professionally, that's just who, how and WHY I am. And, it's important to thank Laurie after all these years, because I never really got a chance to let her know what an important gift she gave me in recognizing that that day.

But all of the above is not the reason I'm writing this today. Instead it was to give you some context and share where I have come from and see if you can relate to that feeling of being the 'outsider' or having feelings of tremendous 'self-doubt' at all, given all that's happening now.

Because the truth is, none of that actually matters. Though it's very much a part of being a part of Team Humanity.

Instead, I wanted to share that in spite of all of that, that there's never been a better time for us to fight our internal fears and become our own superheros by channeling our collective super powers to create a better world for all of our futures. To set aside our 'outsider' fears. And instead draw on your own super power. And put it into action NOW.

So will you join me? Are you willing and ready to rise up and be brave enough to share your super power to rebuild the world, one person, one brick, one better idea, one better considered action at a time? However that is possible for you right now, be it with seemingly small or larger acts?

Because, what a gift that would be if we all chipped in to the Team and allowed for all the best of our super powers to thrive despite all the adversity and changes happening now!

Oh yeah! That reminds me. The 'personal motto' I finally came up with that afternoon was actually so funny, uncanny! It was right in front of my nose all the time. As I was sipping my tea I idly flipped the tea bag tag around and there it was as if by serendipity for me!

I got out my pen and quickly scribbled down the words, refolded the paper, and stuck it back in my school folder and backpack, ready to deliver to Stacey on the yearbook committee. It was indeed something pithy, that I knew would last forever, as long as I was around anyway, and it seemed the perfect 'personal motto' to be remembered by, if I could be brave enough to try to live it into my future:

It read: 'The only way to cope with change is to create it'. -- (Thank you, Salada Tea Bags!)

Thank you, Laurie.

Thank you, Team Humanity! We got this!