Personal Reflection
Just the title of this
Blog entry incited rebellious, if not riotous thoughts to run from within my
mind throughout my body and finally slam into my gut with a sickening
thud. And there it remains. I do not completely understand the feeling
which is near fight or flight intensity.
What I do know is even the thought of sharing personal glimpses into my
life is quite uncomfortable. I am not the
only person to react in this manner. There
are barriers that prevent some people from self-disclosing information. Many people consider it socially unacceptable
to share personal feelings and needs outside of the family environment. Fear is another primary reason people avoid
self-disclosure (McKay, Davis, & Fanning, 2009). Rejection, punishment being talked about,
being taken advantage of, being judged negatively are all real concerns. In my opinion, each of these fears fall in to
one broader category, and that is fear of what other people will think. I am far too old to be worried about what others
think about me and it really is not any business of mine. Therefore, I will get on with the work at
hand and ignore that feeling in my gut.
I am told that I was a very
good kid. I had no problems in school, I
was respectful, I was well behaved, and I minded my parents. In other words I was a good boy. I liked baseball…no…I was obsessed with
baseball. I played every year from the summer
of 1968 until my first year of high school in the fall of 1976. Back then Little League coaches played an
active role not only in teaching baseball, but in raising us as well. In my third year playing, I did not get the
team I wanted and I was disappointed. I
did not hide it very well when I first met the coach and teammates. I expressed my disappointment in not getting
what I wanted, as a nine year old would.
Coach Wilkerson looked at me and said until now, I thought I had gotten
the team I wanted. Then he invited me to
leave. I was shocked. He eventually let me off the hook, but he
took advantage of the opportunity I provided for the rest of the season. It was my first lesson in “it is not all
about me”, and “how words that you say cannot be unsaid”. He also explained how one team is always
better than nine great players. I
learned a lot of things I still use today and all of them from one insensitive
fit I threw when I was nine. Even today
I check my attitude to ensure my words are not based on my selfish reasons and
that they are not hurtful before opening my mouth. Coach Wilkerson got his money out of the
opportunity I provided, but nowhere near what I got out of it. From team work to interpersonal skills, I
think of Coach Wilkerson often. I do not
remember the name of any of my other coaches.
I turned fourteen in
August of 1975. We had just moved I was
about to start high school as the new guy.
I missed my friends, and even though I understood the opportunity this
was for my father, I was angry about having to move. I could not get past it. I met a few people unlike any other people I
had ever met and we became fast friends.
The good boy everyone knew for my first fourteen years changed and just
like flipping a switch the old me was gone.
The new me was having fun with his new, wild friends.
For the next six years
I did exactly what I wanted. No one
could convince me otherwise. Of course,
this drastic change in my attitude and behavior did not go unnoticed by my
parents. My father was okay to write it
off as boys will be boys, but it was too much for my mother. She did not say
anything to me at first; she was observing and taking notes. We had a few
disagreements but nothing serious. She
did not like what she saw and she let me know she was worried but again it
passed and things went right back to where they were. When I turned sixteen I got a car and things
went from bad to worse. I would stay away for the entire weekend and sometimes longer. Mom just told me o let them know when I was not coming home so she did not have
to worry all night. When I began to
avoid contact with my parents, I had reached Mom’s limit. She sat me down and said she had given me time
to see things on my own, but that was not enough. I was to be at home by 9 am every Sunday
morning without fail and without exception. At 9 am she and I would have
breakfast and talk. It was her time and she
would not be denied. I had never seen my
mother like she was that day. I said,
yes ma’am.
For the next four years
we met and had coffee and toast at the dining room table. No one interrupted us. She talked to me for an hour every Sunday about
whatever she wanted. She never ran out
of things to talk about and we never stopped early. I can only remember missing one Sunday. She talked
to me about the company I allowed in my life and some of the consequences, the
lifestyle I was living, goals and dreams, education and career. The first several times we met, she did not
want to hear anything I had to say. Every
week the message was different but the theme was always the same. If you do not take care of yourself, you will
simply not be taken care of. It is not
important to anyone else. Do not let the
fun of today keep you from planning tomorrow. Stand on your own feet and make
your own decisions. If you are going to
suffer the consequences, it should have been your decision. Mom finally let me join the conversation
during the third meeting. Over time, I
began to look forward to our conversations, in fact, I cherished them. We, covered every subject possible. Just before my nineteenth birthday I decided
to enlist in the US Air Force. I entered
the Air Force in February of 1982 and immediately missed our Sunday morning conversations. After I settled into my first permanent duty
station, I called my mother. That was on
a Sunday morning we talked every Sunday until her passing in 2011. I learned
about living life, being true to myself, how to be a husband, and how to be a
responsible adult. She taught me all of
these things while providing the perfect example of how to be a great
parent. To say that the talks had a
formative effect in my life is an understatement. I remember those talks nearly word for
word. I refer to them often and live by
those lessons daily.
Reference:
McKay, M., Davis, M., &
Fanning, P. (2009). Messages the communication skills book.
Oakland, CA: New Harbinger Publications, Inc