Monday, November 30, 2020

1976 - John Mauvezin - Leadership Lessons in Creativity


Oliver Hardy, I presume. (John is out of frame)

(Fifty Nifty Years in United States Series)

John was a friend that was/is so creative. John and I were always the last two in line. We were the shortest in our class at Holy Family School in South Pasadena, California. From year to year, we traded places in the line-up. We always ended being at the very back of the line. Not sure if it was the nuns or just school policy that we line up by height with the shortest at the very back. We got to be friends. 

Best friends. We were altar boys (that’s what they called it then) together. We got paired up far too often. His was the first overnight sleepovers that I got to do as a child. Fort building, Lego collecting (he had thousands, I had one 140 piece set).

I recall that during recess in 4th grade, we used the length of outdoor lunch benches to be the length of the tunnel’s that we dug out from our POW camp. John was always the Steve McQueen (Ref. The Great Escape - 1963 Mirsch Company)  character and we enlisted 7 or 8 others to be the various other parts. This led to bigger and better things.

We were Laurel and Hardy for two years at the school talent show. (Olly seen in photo above). He was often Captain Kirk and for whatever reason, the short Portuguese kid played Scotty. I could wrangle out a Scots, "Ayee."  We did radio plays on his dad's tape recorder (Google that if you don't know).

Google Map of those Woods - still there today.

He lived at the base of Monterey Hills and we had this entire 200 acre woods behind the church just above his house. It was a great place for imagination and play. We had the woods and a small stream; and hours of war battles, Star Trek, Emergency, and The Great Escape (John’s favorite movie).

In those woods, we found so many things. We shot up Nazi's, hid from aliens, and dug up treasures. Hide and seek was amazing when you could hide, take a nap and then sneak up on someone who had also fallen asleep to tag "it" again. The trails traveled up and down and in a loop. The backyard wall to John's house was the drive way up to the property. We often walked a few houses up to a spot where the wall was lower and had a block or two missing to just hop over.

The woods behind the church were epic and led to further endeavors later on by ringing a gigantic bell at the front of the church. By late high school and into early college, several of my friends and I would compete for the maximum number of times we would ring that bell before running off into the woods. 

He went with our family the summer before sixth grade to Lake Arrowhead to spend a week at a cabin. It was on those TV less (and please note there was no public internet in 1975) we would do small act plays. John would often monologue and we were inspired by Tim Conway and Harvey Korman from the 1970's Carol Burnett shows. We tried to make each other laugh. 

John went into one monologue while we talked about being in a fox hole. It was stunning to watch him and all I can remember was that it was almost like he was not acting. He told a story and there was a small lesson to learn. This coming from sixth grade minds might have you think, "What do they know." It was a free flow of creativity. 

Both our families ended up with movie cameras and we started making movies together. I wanted to create a space epic worthy of 2001 A Space Odyssey. John was always into the effects and war battles. We collaborated on the Hindenburg and several other pieces.

And then my family moved 11 miles away to another town. We stayed connected for a while and in fact completed the Hindenburg after I moved. New home with a pool that made for epic flight over the Atlantic Ocean scenes of the model Hindenburg that I had made.

John was and I am sure is still one of the most creative people I have ever met. We would do shows for our family when on vacation together. He always had stories that had a little lesson and I would try and tell jokes and puns.

He showed me that play was a great way to think. We determined our roles in life from play as children. I became a lover of outdoors and creating spaces that were safe, fun and engaging for children. 

I am so ever grateful to John for those lessons in creativity and imagination. Cardboard boxes that became forts and star ships and eventually grew up to become tents and cabins' in the woods. Thanks to John and those amazing moments that I am forever grateful in creating as we have spent over 50 years in these United States.


Monday, November 23, 2020

1975 - Mrs. Fox - Lessons from a Teacher Who Loved the Dodgers


(50 Nifty Years in United States Series)

You always remember that teacher who looked and smelled great. As an 11 year old, in 5th grade, we had Mrs. Fox as our Catholic School (non nun) crush teacher. I believe it was her first year teaching and we were her first class.

We knew she was special – by the last week of September, she was letting us watch the Dodgers in the play offs. An at the same time she was teaching us about math by calculating batting averages. (Okay statistics were never my thing – as some may know, I liked it so much in college I had to take it twice.) 

I learned so much that year especially about 5th graders.  They are not too cool to learn – there is an enthusiasm about new things still. I have worked with thousands of 5th graders over the last 40 years through outdoor environmental education groups at the different camps I have served. And 5th graders are the best. By 6th grade it’s a 50/50 shot and hormones start to kick in.

Mrs. Fox knew that and taught to that principle. I remember lots of hands on science stuff, SRA reading labs and different hand made projects. Those labs were all about persevering and moving along at your pace. That lesson alone is a great take a way in fifth grade. As is asking for help. I know that as I moved through those projects, sometimes, I would get stuck. I recall having to do a take home airplane model. I worked on that for hours after school and I just did not know how to make it look right. I had a paper towel holder and  model paint. It was frustrating at best and I had to ask my parents for help. 

At the end of the school year we had a BBQ at her house in Pasadena – this was the first time that I felt part of a community other than in school – she made us all feel welcome and I have used that as a filter til today. Of course her husband was there and he tended the BBQ and just seemed beyond cool, especially since he was married to Mrs. Fox. 

Learning how to be part of a group and being inclusive – she mediated several conversations throughout the year between students – Eddie and Ray where part of our class and I am grateful for the lessons that she brought to me personally and how to stand with others who may not always be like me. It really is a time when you learn about being different and that it starts to matter to those around you that we all have differences. 

Inclusivity (sp?) has been a major theme in my life and the work at camp has always been about creating community and learning along the way. I am in a great deal of dept to teachers and mentors along the way who not only talked about it, but they also led with action. John Maxwell says it best. "Your talk talks and your walk talks, but your walk talks louder than you talk talks."

Thanks to Mrs. Fox and her community as well as the dozens of teachers who have influenced my life that I have spent the last 50 plus years in these United States.

Monday, November 16, 2020

1974 - Joseph - Leadership From a 14 Year Old Altar Server


Altar servers - not an actual picture of Joseph or myself

(50 Nifty Years in United States Series)

Joseph – To be honest I cannot recall his last name. He was in 8th grade at Holy Family School, South Pasadena, CA (I know that because that is the highest grade one could attend at that time. He was a blonde guy who towered over us and over the school. I remember that he was the school student body president. He was an altar boy/server as well and I want to say I had served once with him on the schedule and it may have been after this story had occurred.

I seem to recall he played baseball as well and was a catcher. He was a Scout as well because I recall times that he wore his uniform to school. He was also the first tangible representation of servant leadership that I can recall.

Historically, altar servers go back to the third century in the church. As a 12 year old, St. Tarcisius (later named patron saint of altar serves) endured persecution and ultimately died from injuries when he refused to desecrate the Blessed Sacrament (Bread and Wine) while carrying it to those who had been imprisoned for their belief. An early servant leader.

It was during Holy Thursday mass during the Easter season. I remember walking in and seeing a row of 12 chairs at the base of the altar – which was different to start since I had never seen that before. I was intrigued since Joseph was wearing a different robe; as the priests and others involved were lined up at the back of the church.

It was a large crowd and I wanted to sit closer to the front so I could see. I dragged my grandmother to the port side of church and as close-up front as we could get. I had a view and I kept an eye on Joseph all along thinking “this is different.” At the end of the homily there was quiet as everyone was still seated.

The twelve folks who had processed in at the beginning were now moving to the front and seated in the chairs. Joseph went up to the podium and talked about the supper and about service. Then he did an amazing thing and washed the feet of the twelve. I know many of you know the story and at the time I recall hearing about how it all happened.

I was astounded and amazed. I remember feeling pride that I knew him and we were in the same school. I thought that maybe someday I could be more like him. Perhaps in a few years, I could be chosen to be the one who did this at that mass as well. I recall the talk that week in school. Joseph had proposed doing the part of the service.

Not an actual picture of Joseph or a priest who is a Dodger

He was destined for the priesthood. Perhaps he would play for the Dodgers. I remember passing him in the hallway at school and he would actually acknowledge us with his smile and encouraging voice. Everyone wanted to be like him.

I do not know what became of Joseph. I do know that it made an impact on my young life and I am here recounting those moments of that hour over forty some odd years later. How grateful to be part of a community that allows for freedoms like the one that was shared with me at an early age. How grateful for Joseph’s voice on that one evening so many springs ago. 

An example of what it meant to be a leader; a servant leader that I did not even consider I would need to know and what an influence it would have as I have spent these years in these United States.

SUPPLEMENTAL: For practicing Catholics reading this; I choose "Joseph" as my confirmation Saint.

Monday, November 9, 2020

1973 - Lesson from an Irish Priest


Interior Holy Family Church in South Pasadena, CA.

(50 Nifty Years in United States Series)

Father Thomas McGovern – He was the first priest that I knew as an example of leadership. He was appointed Monsignor around this time and I recall how big a deal that was in the parish. He was also the priest who taught us how to be altar boys (as it was know at that time). The previous year, upon completion of our first communion, we were (most of the boys in my class at Holy Family) all conscripted to become Altar Boys (that’s what they called altar servers back then).

My first time as on the schedule and I got up very early so as to arrive early. No one was there but a handful of people in the church. I got the altar garments on and proceeded to set things up. I got ready to light the candles, which was one of the reasons I had arrived early and had very much wanted to be the one to do so. I lit the flame extender and in doing so I extended the wick on the lighter out a bit too far. As I reached to get the first candle lit on the altar, the wick burnt completely off and landed in the flower arrangement. I looked out at the church and back at the flowers to make sure no one had noticed. As I looked, the traces of smoke began to rise from the slightly dry flower vase.

I did the only thing I knew to do. I panicked a bit. In doing so, I ran back to the sacristy and found water…Holy Water. I ran back out and noticed more smoke and in my 9 year old brain…there may have been flames as well.

By now, the other Altar boy (my friend John) had arrived. He helped to get the candles lit and everything else prepared. Father McGovern would not know anything had happened.

During the service, the altar boys sat on these small backless seats that were right next to the priest. They were directly in front of a wooden outcropping on the altar itself. At one point, John went to sit down and I could see that he slammed his back on the lower part of the outcropping. A muffled “hmph” that was audible enough for Father McGovern to turn around and raise an eyebrow.

As with any good friend, I did what I knew to do. Attempt to control my laughter and do so very poorly. I could see tears of pain on John’s face and that made it worse. Father McGovern cleared his throat and again we attempted to maintain composure.

During communion at this time, Altar Boys had a “Communion Paten” to hold under the chin of those receiving Communion. I, of course stood next to Father McGovern and extended the “paten’ with each “Body of Christ.” It was a fascinating thing to see so many faces and tongues. There were not many that accepted the communion wafer at that time in their hand. The whole idea was to catch the communion wafer or bits of it should it fall from the recipients mouth.

This was an early morning mass and I had been up for two hours already in the excitement of the being an altar server. By the time communion rolled around, the excitement had worn a bit and monotonous drone of the endless communion line took a toll. I was standing on the step above the participants with Father. My eyes felt very heavy and I just kept raising the paten towards each person. There was something hypnotic in all those tongues. I know thinking back on this, that it was not a long time. But the next thing I knew, Father McGovern was trying to balance the Communion Cup and the paten and me as I almost fell forward in a sleepy state towards one of the parishioners. I received a look of astonishment and admonition. At this point, I was convinced that I would never serve again.

At the end of the mass service, we would go back into the sacristy and kneel as father would give us a blessing. This is where he would put a hand on each of our shoulders and pray for a moment. In doing so, I can say that Father McGovern was part Vulcan and administered an equivalent Vulcan neck/shoulder pinch as he pushed down. At the end of the “blessing” he uttered in his Irish brogue, “Let’s do better next time.” 

I think about this nearly everyday. When I go to bed at night and then when I get up the next day. I have used these words in self reflection so many times. I try and be a better husband, father, director, leader, servant or otherwise given any opportunity.

I am grateful for so many early lessons in the 50 plus years since my family moved to these United States. And I am grateful for the opportunities that no matter how things may go wrong, you have the freedom and opportunity to do better next time.

Monday, November 2, 2020

ELECTIONS - Then and now (1984 until present)



I originally wrote this in a non presidential election year. As I think about tomorrow, I find it more compelling that so many Americans will choose to not vote. My family left a country and came to the US because of a dream of freedom to be and live a better life. Please VOTE!

My Story:

One of the fundamental things about coming to these United States has been the opportunity to vote in elections. It wasn’t until I turned 18 (1982) that I was able to apply for Citizenship. I did so almost immediately given the opportunity.

I recall as far back as 1972 (during that election) that we had discussed the presidential election in school. We even had the opportunity to conduct a mock vote at our school. I also recall one of the other students telling me that I could not vote since I was born in a different country. My teacher that year even referred to my sister and I as “those Portuguese children.” The tone was clear; ultimately, we were allowed to vote in the mock school election.

So, upon turning 18, I began the process. I had already been through the process with my grandparents. I spent nearly a year from 1977 to 78 helping them study for the Naturalization test. In my pursuit, I recall going down to the INS (Immigration and Naturalization Service) office at the Federal building in Downtown Los Angeles. The lines were always long, and it always seemed like an all-day wait. In fact, on two different occasions I arrived at one o’clock in the morning to get in line since only the first 100 people would get a number to be seen that day. 
That process is what was expected at that time. My good friend, Bob Montes, spent a long night in front of that building with me and I am grateful for his companionship. 

It was nearly 3 years to complete and I also recall going to that seem building for the Naturalization event and then being moved to the convention center (about 4 miles away) for the actual ceremony. Til tI have all my paperwork and the letter from then President Ronald Reagan welcoming me to the United States as a Citizen. I COULD NOW VOTE.

I have done so in 34 elections. Yes, it has been 36 years and I missed two elections due to moving once and a second time when the only two items to vote for were local judges. I rationalized that I did not know enough about them to vote.

Tomorrow, America has the opportunity to go to the polls and determine who we want to represent us in our government for the next few years (locally, state wide and nationally). There may be other measures on your ballot as well.

For me, I will be voting the way that I believe makes the most sense to me. I consider the person and their integrity and as much about who they are as a person as I can find. Research about candidates is easier now than it has ever been. You can find so much information out there.

I also believe that whomever we hire to do the work of representation needs to be clear about their roll. If they have had the position and you disagree with their performance, like any job, they may not be the right fit. Consider changing that person not because they are blue or red, but because they are not doing what they were hired to do.

I have had the great opportunity to interview nearly 5400 people over the years for working at camp and have hired nearly 2200. I believe that past performance is the greatest predictor for how someone will perform in the future. This is a method I have adopted into my voting pattern as well.

I have voted left and right. I have worked on a national presidential campaign. I have contributed to causes and candidates. I have, in fact cherished the American experience and hopefully demonstrated it for my children so that they will hold and cherish it as well. And I have voted with the mindset that not all people have this opportunity and I cherish that.

I am so grateful for the opportunity to vote. I have to say that I have not always exercised that opportunity as I noted above. I consider my family stories of oppression and lack of opportunity in my birth country.

It is an inalienable right that will always be here and we all need to make sure that to preserve it, is to practice it.

Please Vote and thank you for letting me be a part of these United States for over 52 years.

1972 – Lessons from Eugene Cernan, Ronald Evans and Harrison Schmitt and five mice

Cernan, Evans, and Schmitt 

(50 Nifty Year in United States Series)

Sound familiar? From 1969 until 1972, I watched every bit of the Apollo flights that I could. In the spring of 1970, I remember coming home every day that week and asking my mom, “are they home yet?” Those three other inspirational men on Apollo 13 did make it home safely. 

These three were the last three men to set foot on the moon in 1972. The mission also carried five mice named Fe, Fi, Fo, Fum and Phooey.

So why the last one, the one where one of them left a plaque and stated. And I think about those words; even today. He stated ”And, as we leave the Moon at Taurus-Littrow, we leave as we came and, God willing, as we shall return, with peace and hope for all mankind.”

It was the “we shall return” statement that had me. I was bound and determined to be one who would return. At that age, I also knew I wanted to be an architect. And I knew I would be going to the Air Force Academy and that I would be an astronaut. Perhaps my 8 year old logic was that I would help build things on the moon.

Artemis is NASA's current program to have sustained development on the moon.

This lasted all the way into high school. By my junior year I had known that astronauts were not very tall and I believe the tallest of them was just under 5’9.” The height concept being that they could have the stamina of taller folks but consume less and inhale less oxygen.

Anyway, I had met with the US Air Force recruiter and had the grades and then the SAT’s and all that was needed. I had also recently gotten contact lens and failed to mention that they were as thick as coca cola bottle bottoms (a visual that you will understand if you have ever had a drink from one).

Needless to say, my visions of walking on the moon (let alone building something there) where short sighted since I failed to mention this due to my blind aspirations. “Do you see what I’m saying here?” The recruiter did when we got a copy of my driver’s license and those horrific words jumped off and disqualified my goals and dreams. “Must Wear Corrective Lens.” 

It is a dream and I love that about the American experience. Where else can an almost 5’6” Brazilian born immigrant have aspirations to be inspired and have even a remote notion of a chance to walk on the moon.

There are not many who will know the names Cernan, Evans and Schmitt or could possibly name two or three of the other 32. I am grateful for the inspiration and for the Apollo models that lined my room and for allowing me to dream and develop new dreams as I have spent over 50 years in these United States.

This past Spring, NASA was looking for a new class of Astronauts. Here is a link to a short video for those who may be inspired by the current class.

For those seeking trivia: The term "American Dream" was first used in 1931 by James Truslow Adams. In his book, The Epic of America, he wrote, "life should be better and richer and fuller for everyone, with opportunity for each according to ability or achievement."

Summer Staff Questions - Good Leaders Ask Great Questions Series (5 of 10)

   Good Leaders Ask Great Questions Inspired by E.J. Lugo This is our 5th week this summer, I'll be posting several questions that you s...