I have been struggling this past week with people ltalking about the ice storm and overplaying its seriousness. It was a terrible time for our region. Many people went without power for many days and weeks. Over the past couple of weeks I've heard people talking about the storm and its devastation. Comparing it to Katrina.
The storm taught me a lot about preparing for natural disasters. But when people compare our ice storm to Hurricane Katrina I feel a little embarrassed. While our trees and personal sense of security took a beating, for the most part no houses were totally destroyed, nobody died from drowning, nobody was left to be rescued from their rooftops having lost everything they owned and separated from their families.
We will recover this spring and all of the debris will be removed eventually. Places along the gulf coast may never recover. People years later are still needing help to rebuild their lives.
I am thankful that we didn't experience the devastation of a Katrina event. In the grand scheme of life we got off pretty lucky.
A person in church last Sunday said that with each disaster there is something positive that comes. For me the ice storm brought me the gift of a better sense of empathy for those who suffered during the last couple of hurricanes that ravaged the gulf coast.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
New perspectives
Last week I was waiting for my daughter to complete her acolyte training at Grace Episcopal. While I waited I wondered into the adult library at the church and discovered two books on Alzheimer's. The book was called the Best Friends Approach to Alzheimer's care. Over the course of the next two days I read the book cover to cover. I have always thought about my fathers illness as a progressive disease that will slowly rob him of the joy and meaning of life. Reading this book opened up my eyes to the fact that it can not only improve my fathers quality of life, but to also improve my own relationship to my father during this difficult time in his life.
Saturday evening my daughter and I went to the Symphony performance. We were given tickets to the event on the front row. I won't tell how long it has been since I attended the symphony but lets say the first George Bush was in office. The soloist was wonderful and the music was also great. The front row is a location I wouldn't buy tickets for. I much prefer to be about 1/2 way back in the audience. From 1/2 way back you can see the entire stage in one glance. The sound quality is also much better there. We sat in seats next to the boom camera. Every so often I would be watching the performance and suddenly feel this large object moving just above my head and then down onto the stage. Jade of course was dressed in her best "theatre" dress. Before the concert started Jade asked me if there was an intermission. I looked in the program and told her yes. Then she wanted to know if we could get chips and a coke at intermission. I think she was more excited about the intermission snacks than the concert but she stayed awake the entire evening. I had to restrain myself at times because when I listen to music I enjoy I be-bop my head a lot. I looked around and almost every other person was just sitting there perfectly still. My head was nodding to the music and my feet were tapping to the beat and my hands wanted to keep time too! Jade had put this sparkling kind of face powder on and every time she leaned against me I ended up covered in little sparkles.
Sunday afternoon was spent hauling branches from my backyard to my front yard. I can still barely move. All through the weekend I kept thinking about the book on Alzheimer's. Living each day to the fullest and enjoying life because you may not always be able to. My grandfather and my father both have the disease and I can't help but think about them and wonder if my life will follow the same path. Thinking about the fact that there is a possibility for a good life even after the disease makes it a little easier to bear. The trick is to not dwell on what is lost or gained in life. It is to be thankful for the small moments that I've had- going to the symphony with my daughter, having breakfast each week with good friends, and sitting in front of the fireplace on a cold night with my wife curled up against me and my daughter sitting on my lap. It's all in how you look at.
Saturday evening my daughter and I went to the Symphony performance. We were given tickets to the event on the front row. I won't tell how long it has been since I attended the symphony but lets say the first George Bush was in office. The soloist was wonderful and the music was also great. The front row is a location I wouldn't buy tickets for. I much prefer to be about 1/2 way back in the audience. From 1/2 way back you can see the entire stage in one glance. The sound quality is also much better there. We sat in seats next to the boom camera. Every so often I would be watching the performance and suddenly feel this large object moving just above my head and then down onto the stage. Jade of course was dressed in her best "theatre" dress. Before the concert started Jade asked me if there was an intermission. I looked in the program and told her yes. Then she wanted to know if we could get chips and a coke at intermission. I think she was more excited about the intermission snacks than the concert but she stayed awake the entire evening. I had to restrain myself at times because when I listen to music I enjoy I be-bop my head a lot. I looked around and almost every other person was just sitting there perfectly still. My head was nodding to the music and my feet were tapping to the beat and my hands wanted to keep time too! Jade had put this sparkling kind of face powder on and every time she leaned against me I ended up covered in little sparkles.
Sunday afternoon was spent hauling branches from my backyard to my front yard. I can still barely move. All through the weekend I kept thinking about the book on Alzheimer's. Living each day to the fullest and enjoying life because you may not always be able to. My grandfather and my father both have the disease and I can't help but think about them and wonder if my life will follow the same path. Thinking about the fact that there is a possibility for a good life even after the disease makes it a little easier to bear. The trick is to not dwell on what is lost or gained in life. It is to be thankful for the small moments that I've had- going to the symphony with my daughter, having breakfast each week with good friends, and sitting in front of the fireplace on a cold night with my wife curled up against me and my daughter sitting on my lap. It's all in how you look at.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Friday the 13
I don't usually hold much regard for superstitions like Friday the 13th but yesterday proved me wrong. Thursday night I had trouble sleeping. I kept feeling a pressure like someone pushing their hand against my chest. On Friday the feeling returned a couple of times during the day. As the afternoon wore on I the feeling would return and then disappear after strong exertion. I told April and she insisted that I go immediately to get checked. As it was almost 5 pm I thought about getting a doctors appointment for Monday. April convinced me that I shouldn't wait. So I went to the ER at a local hospital (which I will not name). I was immediately whisked into an examination room. To jump to the end I emerged Saturday at noon after passing a stress test that said my heart was fine. The 19 hour process from Friday night until Saturday at noon was at times reassuring, frustrating, painful, and exuberant. I was so happy to walk out of my hospital room directly to my car. It felt like I was an inmate released from jail.
In December I spent 3 days with my father at the Freidert (don't know if I spelled that right) Hospital in Milwaukee Wisconsin. The difference between the Paducah hospital and the Milwaukee Hospital were like night and day.
At the Milwaukee hospital the staff checked on my father and every 30-60 minutes or so someone would walk in to just check in. They asked my father if he needed anything. Over the course of one evening the main nurse and the assistant nurse, a social worker, a chaplain, a physical therapist, a speech therapist, several lab techs and others came in to check on my fathers condition. Some checked in to see if he or my family had any questions and helped us to care for my father as well. They listened to what we said and responded with answers or by finding someone who could explain. They always asked my father how he was feeling. If he had any pain and if he was comfortable. The Milwaukee hospital had customer service down to an art. From the time he entered until they left him at the door there wasn't anything they could have done better. This was the week of Christmas with all its ups and downs and a snowstorm to boot.
At the Paducah hospital after the shift change on Friday I was left in an exam room with no one telling me what was going on for over an hour and a half. Then when the person finally did appear and talked to me, I was shocked when he told me I was being assigned a room for the night. He said "Oh I thought they already told you." I told him that no one had told me and that no one gave me a reason why I was staying. I later looked at my armband and saw the doctors name. I realized that I had seen the doctor for less than a minute and a half the entire evening. I never saw a doctor until the next morning to explain what was happening. No one ever did come and tell me why I was staying or what my blood tests, chest xray, or any of the other things showed and why I was receiving the medication I was. Apparently the doctor had decided to hook me up to a Nitroglycerin drip IV. When the orderly started to push me out of the exam room to a room for the night he neglected to see that I was hooked up to an IV and I had to stop him so he didn't pull it out of my arm as he took off without the IV. When we got to the room there wasn't a rolling IV stand in the room. The orderly hooked the IV to the bed post and left me tethered. I had to ask the nurse if she could unhook my IV for me to use the restroom. She seemed surprised that I was left with no rolling IV stand and went and found one for me so I could finally go. The oddest moment was when the phone rang and I answered it. Someone on the other end asked "is the nurse in the room with you"? I told them I was alone and they said thank you and hung up. I'm not quite sure what that was all about. Did they lose the nurse?
They told me I would get a headache from the Nitroglycerin. Boy was than an understatement! By 11:45pm I had not eaten since the morning and had asked for something to eat since the Nurse told me I would be staying at 9 pm. I asked a couple of times and they told me they would check on it. Then it would be another 1/2 an hour before the next person came in and they told me they would check on it. One of the night nurses finally took pity on me and took it upon herself to go down and get me something. They told me there was no staff on Friday nights so the supervisor had to make me food. That was what took so long. I told everyone who came in the room my headache was getting worse. Because I told them my headache was getting worse and no one offered any pain relief I figured it wasn't allowed because of the Nitroglycerin. I know people can't read minds but when I said my head was pounding I would have thought they would ask if I needed something for the pain. Finally I told a nurse that I would kill for an aspirin and they said "You can't have aspirin but we can probably get you some Tylenol." I was left speechless. Why hadn't anyone told me I could have something for pain earlier. The Tylenol arrived soon after. The Tylenol barely made a dent in my headache. When I told the nurse this she said she would see if maybe we could turn down the volume of the Nitro drip. I waited and waited asking others who came in over the course of the next hour if their was anything they found out about getting the Nitro reduced. No one knew. I even asked the main nurse again and she said she would check on it as if this was something new. Finally I couldn't take it anymore and hit the call button and told the nurse that I had to get some relief from my headache and begged for the Nitro to be turned down or stopped since I hadn't had any chest pain for over 6 hours. The nurse came in within minutes and turned it off when I promised to call if my chest pressure returned. My chest pain never returned after the first hour I entered the hospital.
It took them 19 hours to let me go. I feel I would still be there if my family doctor hadn't stopped by to see me Saturday morning and agreed with me that there was no reason for me to stay other than waiting on a stress test. He told me if I failed the test I was going to stay. But if I passed I should be going home. I had been feeling like I was no longer a patient but an inmate being held against my will because the hospital was afraid to let me go for liability reasons.
The room I was given had heating controls that either made the room too warm or too cold. Several times during the night I had to get up and drag my IV over to turn off or on the heat.
I was thrilled to hear a voice call me on the phone after my family doctor apparently went to talk to someone and to tell me that I had been scheduled for a stress test, unfortunately they had no idea when but that there was a doctor on call for the day and they would try to work me in. The doctor was tied up elsewhere and they were waiting to see when he would come in. I finally got the call about 10:30 to take the test. While I was taking the test the doctor who was monitoring the stress test turned to the nurses while I was on the treadmill and chewed them out for the way the things were run on a Saturday morning. Telling them to focus on customer service. I couldn't help but feel sorry for the nurses because I knew they had no idea when he would show up from the earlier call. Unfortunately his chewing out the staff while he was supposed to be supervising my stress test didn't make me feel any better about his handling of customer service either.
It just felt that people weren't focused on the patient. Like they were understaffed and everyone was having to cover and couldn't quite get everything done. Things didn't seem to work after that shift change Friday night. From the heating to simple things like the fact that when I got food and asked the person who brought it to me if I could have another drink. They said sure and I never saw them again and never got the drink. When I told them my head was pounding from the Nitro they didn't ask if I wanted something for pain. I had to say "I'd kill for some pain medicine". The hospitals my have lots of awards for their medical skills and even may have good customer service during the week days. But Friday night after about 7 pm. They could learn a great deal from the Milwaukee hospital.
I plan to write a letter to the hospital to express these thoughts in a little more detail. I don't know that it will do any good. I never felt they didn't care. The two night nurses were very caring. The original staff in the exam rooms were very caring. It just seemed that the whole system was disconnected. Then again that could just be my luck on Friday the 13th.
I probably won't go back to be checked again at a hospital if I have chest pains unless they are sustained and prolonged. My experience last night is one I don't wish to repeat any time soon.
In December I spent 3 days with my father at the Freidert (don't know if I spelled that right) Hospital in Milwaukee Wisconsin. The difference between the Paducah hospital and the Milwaukee Hospital were like night and day.
At the Milwaukee hospital the staff checked on my father and every 30-60 minutes or so someone would walk in to just check in. They asked my father if he needed anything. Over the course of one evening the main nurse and the assistant nurse, a social worker, a chaplain, a physical therapist, a speech therapist, several lab techs and others came in to check on my fathers condition. Some checked in to see if he or my family had any questions and helped us to care for my father as well. They listened to what we said and responded with answers or by finding someone who could explain. They always asked my father how he was feeling. If he had any pain and if he was comfortable. The Milwaukee hospital had customer service down to an art. From the time he entered until they left him at the door there wasn't anything they could have done better. This was the week of Christmas with all its ups and downs and a snowstorm to boot.
At the Paducah hospital after the shift change on Friday I was left in an exam room with no one telling me what was going on for over an hour and a half. Then when the person finally did appear and talked to me, I was shocked when he told me I was being assigned a room for the night. He said "Oh I thought they already told you." I told him that no one had told me and that no one gave me a reason why I was staying. I later looked at my armband and saw the doctors name. I realized that I had seen the doctor for less than a minute and a half the entire evening. I never saw a doctor until the next morning to explain what was happening. No one ever did come and tell me why I was staying or what my blood tests, chest xray, or any of the other things showed and why I was receiving the medication I was. Apparently the doctor had decided to hook me up to a Nitroglycerin drip IV. When the orderly started to push me out of the exam room to a room for the night he neglected to see that I was hooked up to an IV and I had to stop him so he didn't pull it out of my arm as he took off without the IV. When we got to the room there wasn't a rolling IV stand in the room. The orderly hooked the IV to the bed post and left me tethered. I had to ask the nurse if she could unhook my IV for me to use the restroom. She seemed surprised that I was left with no rolling IV stand and went and found one for me so I could finally go. The oddest moment was when the phone rang and I answered it. Someone on the other end asked "is the nurse in the room with you"? I told them I was alone and they said thank you and hung up. I'm not quite sure what that was all about. Did they lose the nurse?
They told me I would get a headache from the Nitroglycerin. Boy was than an understatement! By 11:45pm I had not eaten since the morning and had asked for something to eat since the Nurse told me I would be staying at 9 pm. I asked a couple of times and they told me they would check on it. Then it would be another 1/2 an hour before the next person came in and they told me they would check on it. One of the night nurses finally took pity on me and took it upon herself to go down and get me something. They told me there was no staff on Friday nights so the supervisor had to make me food. That was what took so long. I told everyone who came in the room my headache was getting worse. Because I told them my headache was getting worse and no one offered any pain relief I figured it wasn't allowed because of the Nitroglycerin. I know people can't read minds but when I said my head was pounding I would have thought they would ask if I needed something for the pain. Finally I told a nurse that I would kill for an aspirin and they said "You can't have aspirin but we can probably get you some Tylenol." I was left speechless. Why hadn't anyone told me I could have something for pain earlier. The Tylenol arrived soon after. The Tylenol barely made a dent in my headache. When I told the nurse this she said she would see if maybe we could turn down the volume of the Nitro drip. I waited and waited asking others who came in over the course of the next hour if their was anything they found out about getting the Nitro reduced. No one knew. I even asked the main nurse again and she said she would check on it as if this was something new. Finally I couldn't take it anymore and hit the call button and told the nurse that I had to get some relief from my headache and begged for the Nitro to be turned down or stopped since I hadn't had any chest pain for over 6 hours. The nurse came in within minutes and turned it off when I promised to call if my chest pressure returned. My chest pain never returned after the first hour I entered the hospital.
It took them 19 hours to let me go. I feel I would still be there if my family doctor hadn't stopped by to see me Saturday morning and agreed with me that there was no reason for me to stay other than waiting on a stress test. He told me if I failed the test I was going to stay. But if I passed I should be going home. I had been feeling like I was no longer a patient but an inmate being held against my will because the hospital was afraid to let me go for liability reasons.
The room I was given had heating controls that either made the room too warm or too cold. Several times during the night I had to get up and drag my IV over to turn off or on the heat.
I was thrilled to hear a voice call me on the phone after my family doctor apparently went to talk to someone and to tell me that I had been scheduled for a stress test, unfortunately they had no idea when but that there was a doctor on call for the day and they would try to work me in. The doctor was tied up elsewhere and they were waiting to see when he would come in. I finally got the call about 10:30 to take the test. While I was taking the test the doctor who was monitoring the stress test turned to the nurses while I was on the treadmill and chewed them out for the way the things were run on a Saturday morning. Telling them to focus on customer service. I couldn't help but feel sorry for the nurses because I knew they had no idea when he would show up from the earlier call. Unfortunately his chewing out the staff while he was supposed to be supervising my stress test didn't make me feel any better about his handling of customer service either.
It just felt that people weren't focused on the patient. Like they were understaffed and everyone was having to cover and couldn't quite get everything done. Things didn't seem to work after that shift change Friday night. From the heating to simple things like the fact that when I got food and asked the person who brought it to me if I could have another drink. They said sure and I never saw them again and never got the drink. When I told them my head was pounding from the Nitro they didn't ask if I wanted something for pain. I had to say "I'd kill for some pain medicine". The hospitals my have lots of awards for their medical skills and even may have good customer service during the week days. But Friday night after about 7 pm. They could learn a great deal from the Milwaukee hospital.
I plan to write a letter to the hospital to express these thoughts in a little more detail. I don't know that it will do any good. I never felt they didn't care. The two night nurses were very caring. The original staff in the exam rooms were very caring. It just seemed that the whole system was disconnected. Then again that could just be my luck on Friday the 13th.
I probably won't go back to be checked again at a hospital if I have chest pains unless they are sustained and prolonged. My experience last night is one I don't wish to repeat any time soon.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Normal
As the week comes to a close I find myself drained by dozens of things that are demanding my attention. The trees in my yard stare at me every morning and night. I have several large branches still hanging from the trees. Lots of ripped off places on limbs were branches have broken off and fallen to the ground. One tree service I got an estimate from called the hanging branches "hangers" and the broken off branches "shiners". By the end of tomorrow I will have 5 estimates. None of the estimates are within my bank account range so April and I will have to figure out how to pay for the thousands of dollars or just let the trees stay in their current dilemma and wait for the "hangers" to fall and hope the shiners don't kill off the rest of the tree.
I've witnessed several events that have been postponed because of the storm. Some of them are right on the heels of the storm like our fundraiser next week, which was rescheduled, and some of the events are at the end of February or early March. The wide range of opinion about what should and shouldn't go ahead as planned has been interesting to watch from people I know. For some a return to normalcy was the most important. For others the storm was something that they felt needed a certain amount of time for healing before returning to normal. That healing will take several weeks after their power was restored.
I've always been of the opinion that when something knocks you down you get right back up and keep moving. I know that several of my friends disagree with that. What's normal? What's the right answer? I don't think anyone knows. It's different for every single person.
I'm currently reading a book by Paco Underhill called "Why we buy"- the science of shopping. Many of the things that he has studied about the way people shop over the years can be summed up pretty neatly. However any rule that works for the majority always has an exception.
I've reached a point in life that normal is what most people would consider extreme. It funny. Whenever I think I'm the only person who feels a certain way I find out that there is a large majority that think just like I do. At the same time when I think that everybody thinks the same way I do, I find out that a great deal of people don't think that way.
Normal is somewhere in between.
I've witnessed several events that have been postponed because of the storm. Some of them are right on the heels of the storm like our fundraiser next week, which was rescheduled, and some of the events are at the end of February or early March. The wide range of opinion about what should and shouldn't go ahead as planned has been interesting to watch from people I know. For some a return to normalcy was the most important. For others the storm was something that they felt needed a certain amount of time for healing before returning to normal. That healing will take several weeks after their power was restored.
I've always been of the opinion that when something knocks you down you get right back up and keep moving. I know that several of my friends disagree with that. What's normal? What's the right answer? I don't think anyone knows. It's different for every single person.
I'm currently reading a book by Paco Underhill called "Why we buy"- the science of shopping. Many of the things that he has studied about the way people shop over the years can be summed up pretty neatly. However any rule that works for the majority always has an exception.
I've reached a point in life that normal is what most people would consider extreme. It funny. Whenever I think I'm the only person who feels a certain way I find out that there is a large majority that think just like I do. At the same time when I think that everybody thinks the same way I do, I find out that a great deal of people don't think that way.
Normal is somewhere in between.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Hard Work
I just finished the second day of chain saw activity and dragging branches to the front of my yard. My back hurts and my muscles are sore. My face is frozen from the cold. I can't help but think about the the book I finished early this morning before going in to work. Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell raises several interesting ideas about success. The central theme seems to be about hard work. In almost every single case the most successful people are the people who were in the right place at the right time to benefit from opportunities that presented themselves. These people then put in a truly significant amount of hard work which allowed them to take advantage of other opportunities that presented themselves.
Gladwell writes about a student who was given a problem in a course on problem solving at Berkely. The student is faced with a math problem. This student instead of giving up after only a short time continues to struggle with the problem for twenty two minutes. It is at that point that they find the solution. As the instructor put it "success is a function of persistence and doggedness and the willingness to work hard for twenty two minutes to make sense of something that most people would give up on after 30 seconds." Teaching children and adults to continue to struggle with a problem past that initial giving up point makes a world of difference. I see so many people today who don't get past the point of giving up when they are faced with difficult problems.
There is a Chinese saying "No one who can rise before dawn 360 days a year fails to make his family rich." Our work ethic is learned from our culture. I think about the number of times have I read about the writer who got up early every morning before working a regular job to write their first novel that was a success. About the athlete who trains and trains for their chance to win a medal. In theatre so many people think you just walk onstage and be a star. They don't want to put in the hours of rehearsal and hard work outside of rehearsal that is required to really become a good actor. There are thousands of actors with ability who never make it because of the time it takes to get there. Gladwell has shown that the number 10,000 hours is seems to be the threshold for success. Bill Gates put in 10,000 as a kid learning on a computer from his grade school and later by sneaking into the University of Washington at night when his parents thought he was asleep. Professional athletes who played in little league, pony league, and the minors before getting there break in the major leagues. George Winston played at the Carson Center in the first year or so after opening. Joe Searcy who is in charge of the stage said that after the performance- Winston practiced for hours into the middle of the night.
Hard work and long hours of meaningful work do indeed pay off. Work that you can actually see a difference in the return from the amount of time you put in. The pile of branches in front of my house is 6 feet tall. I cut and hauled each one of those branches to make that pile. There is a satisfaction that I feel when I look at the pile (along with a lot of sore muscles!)
A study of the school year in different countries shows that America on average has a school year of 180 days. The South Korean school year is 220 days. The Japanese school year is 243 days long. We feel like kids need a summer vacation. Yet studies show that summer vacation actually reduces test scores in students. One of the top achieving schools in the country has school from 7:30 am to 5 pm 5 days a week and 7:30 to noon on Saturdays. The kids also take home 1-2 hours of homework. These kids aren't crammed full of information. They are given more time to work on math, reading, and writing skills. The more time they have to work on these areas the more relaxed and proficient they become. They are given a leg up by having a chance to put in 10,000 hours to be a successful. Those kids will go far in life. The significant statistic is that the kids from lower income homes do as well as the kids from upper income homes when they are given more time during the day to learn. It isn't about how smart you are. It is about how much time you have to learn.
Working for a non profit company has certainly not made me rich financially. I struggle like everyone else these days. I wake up every morning by 6 am and try to get in a little journaling and reading. I devour everything I can find that talks about success and the meaning of life before I head out the door to work. The people who work for me know that I'm always wanting to do just one more thing before I call it a day. When I walk in the door after 10 pm at night from work I read books on marketing or fund raising. Search theatre blogs and magazines for ideas on how to make the theatre a better place to create, how to better connect to audiences, how to make myself better. How to make the plays that I work on more meaningful to my community.
I often feel a twinge of jealousy when I'm working at 10 pm on a Saturday night at the theatre and I see people I know walking by to eat at Max's and having a great time. One night I realized that hard work was my choice. It was up to me if I worked or not. I could find satisfaction in what I was doing or I could end up feeling bitter and angry about the work I was doing. From that time on I continually remind myself that hard work is my choice. No one is asking me to do it.
I realize too there is a balance between work and life. I have a friend who when he sees me always kids me about being the hardest working man in showbiz. Work without friendship or time to recharge the creative juices drains me. Taking time to encourage the talents and the special gifts of the people that I work with, which sometimes puts me behind schedule and makes a longer work day for me, makes me a richer person. Even in the toughest times I generally feel a deep satisfaction with the work I do. I want to teach my daughter to struggle beyond the point of easy defeat. I want her to find a passion that fills her as the theatre has filled me. I want her to find satisfaction in hard work that is meaningful. Even if it's just piling branches in front of the house after a tough 6 days without power. Hard work is good for the soul.
Gladwell writes about a student who was given a problem in a course on problem solving at Berkely. The student is faced with a math problem. This student instead of giving up after only a short time continues to struggle with the problem for twenty two minutes. It is at that point that they find the solution. As the instructor put it "success is a function of persistence and doggedness and the willingness to work hard for twenty two minutes to make sense of something that most people would give up on after 30 seconds." Teaching children and adults to continue to struggle with a problem past that initial giving up point makes a world of difference. I see so many people today who don't get past the point of giving up when they are faced with difficult problems.
There is a Chinese saying "No one who can rise before dawn 360 days a year fails to make his family rich." Our work ethic is learned from our culture. I think about the number of times have I read about the writer who got up early every morning before working a regular job to write their first novel that was a success. About the athlete who trains and trains for their chance to win a medal. In theatre so many people think you just walk onstage and be a star. They don't want to put in the hours of rehearsal and hard work outside of rehearsal that is required to really become a good actor. There are thousands of actors with ability who never make it because of the time it takes to get there. Gladwell has shown that the number 10,000 hours is seems to be the threshold for success. Bill Gates put in 10,000 as a kid learning on a computer from his grade school and later by sneaking into the University of Washington at night when his parents thought he was asleep. Professional athletes who played in little league, pony league, and the minors before getting there break in the major leagues. George Winston played at the Carson Center in the first year or so after opening. Joe Searcy who is in charge of the stage said that after the performance- Winston practiced for hours into the middle of the night.
Hard work and long hours of meaningful work do indeed pay off. Work that you can actually see a difference in the return from the amount of time you put in. The pile of branches in front of my house is 6 feet tall. I cut and hauled each one of those branches to make that pile. There is a satisfaction that I feel when I look at the pile (along with a lot of sore muscles!)
A study of the school year in different countries shows that America on average has a school year of 180 days. The South Korean school year is 220 days. The Japanese school year is 243 days long. We feel like kids need a summer vacation. Yet studies show that summer vacation actually reduces test scores in students. One of the top achieving schools in the country has school from 7:30 am to 5 pm 5 days a week and 7:30 to noon on Saturdays. The kids also take home 1-2 hours of homework. These kids aren't crammed full of information. They are given more time to work on math, reading, and writing skills. The more time they have to work on these areas the more relaxed and proficient they become. They are given a leg up by having a chance to put in 10,000 hours to be a successful. Those kids will go far in life. The significant statistic is that the kids from lower income homes do as well as the kids from upper income homes when they are given more time during the day to learn. It isn't about how smart you are. It is about how much time you have to learn.
Working for a non profit company has certainly not made me rich financially. I struggle like everyone else these days. I wake up every morning by 6 am and try to get in a little journaling and reading. I devour everything I can find that talks about success and the meaning of life before I head out the door to work. The people who work for me know that I'm always wanting to do just one more thing before I call it a day. When I walk in the door after 10 pm at night from work I read books on marketing or fund raising. Search theatre blogs and magazines for ideas on how to make the theatre a better place to create, how to better connect to audiences, how to make myself better. How to make the plays that I work on more meaningful to my community.
I often feel a twinge of jealousy when I'm working at 10 pm on a Saturday night at the theatre and I see people I know walking by to eat at Max's and having a great time. One night I realized that hard work was my choice. It was up to me if I worked or not. I could find satisfaction in what I was doing or I could end up feeling bitter and angry about the work I was doing. From that time on I continually remind myself that hard work is my choice. No one is asking me to do it.
I realize too there is a balance between work and life. I have a friend who when he sees me always kids me about being the hardest working man in showbiz. Work without friendship or time to recharge the creative juices drains me. Taking time to encourage the talents and the special gifts of the people that I work with, which sometimes puts me behind schedule and makes a longer work day for me, makes me a richer person. Even in the toughest times I generally feel a deep satisfaction with the work I do. I want to teach my daughter to struggle beyond the point of easy defeat. I want her to find a passion that fills her as the theatre has filled me. I want her to find satisfaction in hard work that is meaningful. Even if it's just piling branches in front of the house after a tough 6 days without power. Hard work is good for the soul.
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