2009 - Flash Light Lessons

 

(40 Summers 40 Lessons Series)

Albert Schweitzer said, “At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.”

Children love camp and one of the best parts of the camp experience is campfire. It’s that rock star moment for a child to be up on stage and share their skill, talent or otherwise, with their cabin group and cohorts. When I arrived at my new camp in 2009, campfire was a rich part of that experience. I also knew that I would be able to share some new traditions with that camp and further their well established culture.

Having a campfire usually involves campers bringing their flash lights to make sure they know their way back to cabins (led by the leaders). Part of the culture at that camp, was that campfire was often a bit out of control and hard to reign in the energy. I have been a big believer that you can harness the energy for your cause and regain control. 

I learned early on that flashlights during campfire meant that often lights would fly all over and into the faces of performers (those on stage) and lead to lack of attention/respect for those who were indeed having their rock star moment (s).

Upon arrival at campfire (the first night of camp), I would pick out a volunteer (asking them if they would help me with a demonstration and being on stage for a few minutes.

When everyone had arrived, I would invite my volunteer up. At that point I would announce that we were about to have a demonstration of star wars and light sabers. I would ask everyone with a flashlight to turn them on and wave them in the air. Then I would ask them to flash them at my volunteer. I would then ask them to point them all to a tree or bush on the left. Then tell them to pint them back at the volunteer. Then point them at a rock in the distance. And back to the volunteer. I would yell form left to volunteer to right and back. In a grand crescendo of lights pointing everywhere and all directions; I asked that everyone practicing their best light saber move. I would count to three and say to point back at my volunteer and then turn all lights off.

In a smaller voice, I would then politely ask that all lights stay off until otherwise directed. If anyone turned a light on, I would walk over and ask them to hand it over until the end of campfire. Usually within an example or two of that message, no lights would come back on.

There are multiple messages in this light show. 1) Often times, my volunteer was someone that had been pre-selected by a staff member as someone who needed a moment to shine. 2) The light show and subsequent rule about turning a light back on set the standard for why we follow the rules in camp.

3) I firmly believe that everything that happens in camp (some 973 things a day) is and should be intentional. The best pranks are played in that none of the campers know that their spontaneous prank was planned days and sometimes weeks in advance of their arrival. 4) In my time at camp, I have often argued vehemently with staff who want to change a horse in mid-stream that I have found upsets more than it promotes.

One of the most amazing things to watch is a group of 8-year-olds walking back to their cabin after campfire. They all have their flashlights and seldom does one of them shine that light on the path in front of them. Inevitably somewhere in the darkness one will hear a “thud” or more and I often picture a domino effect of campers tripping over the one that fell first.

5) For the last few two decades or so, I have tried to convey this as a metaphor for our staff and leaders. “Campers shine their light everywhere.” It is part of the energy and enthusiasm of camp. That spirit lingers on site well into the fall when all the campers and staff are gone. (More about that later.)

The metaphor is about where you want to put your energy, your light. I find it fascinating that some leaders spend all their time focusing on what is wrong and what needs to be corrected. Your energy (light) flows to what you measure. If you are all about catching folks in what may be wrong, that’s what you will see.

6) Like the Schweitzer quote above, we provide a light for one another when we focus on what we value in each other. I believe like my mentor, John Maxwell, that I am everyone’s biggest fan. I believe that they are here to do a great work and find the best in each of them. Finding and holding on to the best in others, even when you and they may be struggling is one of the greatest lessons learned in all my camping experience.

“Where do you want your light to shine?”

                

 

1969 – Early Influences – Nothing More, Nothing Less

  

 

(50 Nifty Years in United States Series)

I know some of you might be thinking, Al, in 1969 you were 5 years old and watching the first season of Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers to learn how to speak English. (True story).

John C. Maxwell graduated from Ohio Christian University and went on to a Masters of Divinity and Doctorate of Ministry. He was just out of college and assigned to his first pastoral duty. He is my friend and mentor. While we did not meet until February of 2014, his influence began here and led to the dozens of books (of over a 100 he has written) that I have read and enthusiastically adopted those teachings.

In 2014, I met John at a Maxwell Leadership Certification program. I had adopted his readings about a dozen years earlier and his books kept showing up. I had received as a gift in 2005 a copy of “Leadership Promises for Every Day” from the CEO of the Capital Region YMCA. (Thanks again Peggy Conklin). The book is a 365 daily devotional. (I take February 29 off when it rolls around and apparently so does John.)

Here is what I have adopted in his teachings. I have a tremendous amount of potential and I have harnessed that with those around me to always move forward. As early as 1980 when I began my work with the YMCA, my friends (who worked along with me there) were never limited. I think about those days and no one told us we couldn’t do something that we wanted to do.

When we were told that we needed more children in our program, we went out and got more locations so we could serve more children. We did not have the youth signed up, but when we had the location; we filled the sight.

It was our mobile marketing Y-Van. With permission from a school, we would show up as the school was about to ring the closing bell. As the bell rang, and kids would empty the building, we would open the van doors and come out with an earth ball, parachute, soccer balls and other activities. We would engage kids for half an hour and as they walked away, we would hand them a flier about signing up for the program. (I know many of you are thinking, that could never happen today.) It was the creative use of our imagination and a director that led us by asking questions (another trait I gained form many mentors including John).

In 1984 over the span of 7 months, we opened 11 after school sites serving the communities that were under served.  

We discovered that our small group of dedicated folks could do just about anything for the Y and that community when we put our minds to it. I have so much appreciation for those early lessons and especially for those whom I served alongside.

I read a story from John in 2016 about his life in 1969 and the lessons he learned. I realized I had lived a version of them as well. Here is the link for that story. https://www.johnmaxwell.com/blog/5-lessons-i-learned-when-just-starting-out/

Since it is always about beginnings and endings, I choose this year that set his path towards my own. After all, “leadership is influence, nothing more, nothing less.”

 

1968 - Celler & Hart - Leaders I Never Met and Changed My Life

 

Representative Emanuel Celler

Senator Phillip Hart

(50 Nifty Years in United States Series)

It really goes back to 1965 when The Hart–Celler Act was passed in Congress. Senator Phillip Hart introduced the administration-backed immigration bill which was reported to the Senate Judiciary Committee's Immigration and Naturalization Subcommittee. Representative Emanuel Celler.

Effectively it abolished the system of national-origin quotas that had given preference to Northern Europeans. While the unintended consequences of the act may be argued to this day – it allowed for our family to come to the US in 1968.

Jerry Kramer wrote for the Center for Immigration Studies and reported in 2015, "The 1965 legislation was named the Hart-Celler Act for its principal sponsors in the Senate and House of Representatives. It abolished the quota system, which critics condemned as a racist contradiction of fundamental American values. By liberalizing the rules for immigration, especially by prioritizing family reunification, it also stimulated rapid growth of immigration numbers. Once immigrants had naturalized, they were able to sponsor relatives in their native lands in an ever-lengthening migratory process called chain migration. That unintended consequence is Hart-Celler's enduring legacy."

Hart a Bronze Medal decorated soldier was wounded on D-Day and received a Purple Heart as well. Celler was involved in drafting and passing the Civil Rights Act of 1964, the Civil Rights Act of 1968 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965 as well.

I never met them and to my knowledge have never met any of their family. But I am grateful for what they resolved to do to lessen racism in our world. They seem to encompass the idea that leaders gain authority by giving it away. (John Maxwell Law of Empowerment) How secure that they felt in their leadership and in this country that they invited so many to share in opportunity and in power.

Thanks gentlemen for this lesson and for my/our journey to these Untied States.

1994 - Great Customer Service and My First Child

Bob Telleen at Camp Manito-Wish YMCA

 

(40 Summers 40 Lessons Series)

“You will be a better father because you are a camp director and you will be a better camp director because you are a father.” Bob Telleen

Building rapport with others is a basic tenant of the sales pipeline. It happens in a matter of moments in any service relationship.

Bob Telleen was the YMCA of the USA’s Camp Specialist (the title has changed over the years) for the first 10 years of my career as a Camping and Youth Development professional. His role was at a national level and he worked to support the nearly 300 plus YMCA camps around the country. When I was back as the Camp Executive with Bluff Lake in 1993-98, he would often call and share resources with all the camp folks in similar roles. I had met Bob at an American Camp Association (ACA) and YMCA camp gathering of professionals.

While Bob had a sage like quality, he came across as more of a mentor and somewhat folksy. There was an instant liking to his charm and he had a very deliberate speaking style (often attributed to those in the mid-west).

My camp at that time was less than $1 million dollars a year budget. It was a three season camp; meaning we did not operate year round. It had only been around for 45 years. It was on 120 acres of land surrounded by National Forest Service. It served about 1500 to 2400 different campers each year. In contrast with the larger camps in the YMCA world, it was considered small. It is not my intention to downplay the significance; it is just a contrast in how it was perceived from many colleagues in the camping world.

Often times, at conferences, I would join in on conversations with fellow executive directors who would gather and talk about their financial accomplishments or building projects. In joining a group of directors, one would often hear, “I raised over $2.7 million for my new dining hall.” “I had over 3000 new participants for our outdoor education program.” “I am working on our Board development with Tim Allen.” “My camp is accessing another 2700 acres of property.”

It was always a measurement of added assets, greater dollar value and self accomplishment. I spoke to Bob about this and he would assure me that our value was just as much as those of those larger camp programs. I recall a few years later at a camping conference at a large camp facility where the building I was staying in was almost as large as my entire camp facility.

I had another great coach at the time, EJ Lugo; who told me I was trying to play in a pond that I did not fit in. She coached me toward changing the rules of that measurement game. The next year, at that same conference, I walked up and played a new game.

It sounded like this.

The YMCA camps have a self improvement program at called the “Ragger” program. Essentially, participants choose to challenge themselves in a year-long (or longer) time span to improve a quality of aspect about them. They receive a Rag (7 different colors representing different levels) and the first one is Blue in color. The Rag is an outward symbol of an inward goal and is just a rag, a piece of cloth. There is a ceremony where it is tied around the participant’s neck and they talk to a “counselor” about their individual challenge (s). I have seen life changing goals that youth as young as 12 have taken on.

So, I shifted the conversation at those conferences and meet ups. I would introduce myself and follow up with, “last summer our camp had 463 new Blue Raggers challenge themselves.” I may have been mocked and made fun of by some of those executive types and I knew that I was leaving a significant impact on those young people’s lives as well. And 100 years from now, I know that those buildings and fund raisers and the fact that Tim Allen served on a board will have little significance.

I share this because Bob had such an impact on my life and how he approached his work serving camps around the country. It has only been 30 years since I worked with him and I am still impacted by his generous spirit. Others; well, when measuring the top 30 camps (of over 300 in the system) they always seemed to have well over 65% of enrollments, finances, and assets. Bob still gave my camp and me a great deal of attention and mentoring. He saw that what I did was as valuable as any other and he helped me to find that in myself.

In 1994, I had just met Bob a few years prior and just in passing. He had promised that while swinging through the West Coast, he would stop by my camp sometime in 1995. (He did)

And it was on October 21, 1994, the day after my son Alec was born, that I got a call from Bob at home. He had tracked me down. I have no idea how he got my home number and this was before the full force of the internet and smart phones were still over a decade away.

He called, because he wanted to congratulate my wife and I on the birth of our first child. “You will be a better father because you are a camp director and you will be a better camp director because you are a father.”

Those words and that care from someone I had met in passing and who really believed that his role was to serve his “customers” that made a forever impact on how I approached my work and service. I had believed that I was really small and insignificant and Bob saw me as a vital part of the mission that we all performed in service of youth. He established a rapport and genuine connection that I took a hold and made it part of my own leadership style.

On his work at his former camp he said, “Manito-wish, most of all, is giving — to friends through support given, problems listened to, ideas exchanged — to a group, a goal, a shared experience.”

My experience with Bob and the leadership lesson he shared was that he taught me about giving, listening and sharing. He was one to follow and respect and his “leadership quotient” (As John Maxwell surmises) had people naturally wanting to follow him.

Simple Great Customer Service and a great way to lead.

50+ Years & Leadership Lessons In These United States

As we approach Election Day, I am inclined to consider the last 52 years that my family and I have spent living and dreaming the American experience. There have been difficult years, challenging years and in all, I have always learned a great deal about the world and about myself.

At the time, I wrote a leadership lesson from 50 individuals who made an impression on my life and I gained from their influence. I have had a few notes from folks who read those initial posts on social media from 2018 in celebration of the first 50 years asking if I would publish the collection. A very flattering thought and I am grateful for that encouragement.

Every Monday for the next year, I will post one of those years (chronologically, unlike the initial posts). I am re-visiting each year and making a few edits to add to the leadership lesson garnered from that influential individual of that year. And I will end with three new lessons for 2019, 2020 and in great anticipation, 2021.

I am not forgoing my 40 Summers and 40 Lessons from my service to youth; I am just adding in for my readers this additional series. Look for those posts to continue and the every Monday post about my grateful life in these United States.

Below is the excerpt I wrote back in winter 2018.

"On July 24 (2018) this year (also my birthday) I as well as my sister, Jackie, and my parents will have been in the United States 50 years. Yes, we came to the US on my 4^th birthday from Brasil. That’s just 18,262 days that my family and I have been a part of this American experience.

I feel like I want to say so much about this. Our family came here as part of the South American migration in the late sixties for the promise of opportunity. My parents rarely talk about the process they went through. My mother said that the entire decision making conversation was my father came home and said that there were jobs in America. She told him, I’ll go where you are.

438,288 hours in the US. Okay, I have been to other countries for short vacations. But most of that to me was spent living, leading, in school, in work, in camp and in so many more ways, living."

This year (in regard to the election) I hope you consider the times and the desperate need for servant leadership. I ask that you educate yourself on these matters and VOTE for a candidate that inspires you in a way that John F. Kennedy once articulated, 'Ask not what your county can do for you, ask what you can do for your country." And know that what Ronald Reagan said in 1984 that we have the opportunity to say it is in fact, "morning again in America."

A wise man once said, "Wisdom cries aloud in the street, in the markets she raises her voice; at the head of the noisy streets she cries out; at the entrance of the city gates she speaks..."

I know I will vote this year. 

 

1993 - The Power of F Sharp

F Sharp Minor
(40 Summers 40 Lessons Series)

1993 - The Power of F Sharp

It is a familiar hum to most who ever stepped foot on the property. I always thought of it and referred to it as the “F sharp.”

There is an episode of the I Love Lucy show where Lucy and Ricky give their son, little Ricky, a drum and he keeps playing the same, “thump, thump, thump, thump, thump.” At one point after several days, he pauses and Lucy and Ricky lunge forward and to the side because the beating drum has stopped.

And there is the Bugs Bunny episode (1946, Rhapsody Rabbit) where he plays on stage Franz Liszt’ Hungarian Rhapsody in F Sharp Minor. It is however, the Arthur Fiedler and Boston Pops album that I had growing up that gave me the basis of my reference to the F Sharp. (Here is a YouTube link and all you have to do is keep the syncopated rhythm thrum, thrum, thrum as you listen to it) 

Hungarian Rhapsody in F Sharp Minor

As I returned to the property for the first time in over 19 months away, it was the sound I anticipated and knew that as soon as I heard it, would mean I was back. As soon as I turned off my car, I knew that Tom was checking the power. The familiar sewing machine sound of the diesel was nowhere to be heard. There was just the waterfall like sound of wind in the trees. It was a spectacular none sound and if you had spent any time on the property, you would know what you were not hearing. Everything lunged forward and to the side like Lucy and Ricky.

Every day, the 50Kw Caterpillar diesel generator was shut down and checked for levels and simple maintenance. I always felt a slow down or lurch forward at those times. It was infrequent that it would stop all together, but several times in the 11 years I was there, the generator stopped in the middle of the night and I would wake up out of a sound sleep when it happened.

The camp was powered by the generator and it kept the walk in refrigerator and freezers working to hold food. It kept  the water pumps pumping from the wells to the storage tanks that operated on a gravity feed to flush toilets, allow for showers and most f all drinking water for the inhabitants. Even the radio telephone required power. That camp was completely self contained and was its own microcosm of the world. There were simple lights in each of the cabins that were powered by that “F Sharp” and so much more.

Caterpillar 50Kw - just for reference, it's the one at camp

The power allowed for the capacity of influencing all things to happen in camp. This was the influence for all behaviors that occurred around the day to day operations. The “F Sharp” allowed the food, shelter, water, communication and basic energy to sustain camp. Power and energy are two different things. Though closely related, energy is the ability to cause change; power is the rate with which the energy is used.

My mentor, John Maxwell says that “leadership is influence, nothing more and nothing less.” I have always believed that that power yielded by a leader can be highly influential. Good or bad.

That engine at camp was a great leadership model that I drew on. It was always in the background. It was needed but not noticed; unless it broke down or stopped. If it was not fed and maintained, those stops became more frequent and sometimes unannounced. When the energy it put out was in that “thump, thump, thump,” rhythmic and positive form, it provided what was needed.

I know it may be a stretch to juxtapose that generator with the power of leadership. I do think of it often as a metaphor for how powerful leadership is and when misused, it becomes problematic. I worked under several different leaders in my time at that camp and the lessons I may have learned the most, where the lessons of how not to behave as a leader.

An old Y guy gave ne some advice on year about my staff training. Let’s call him Dan. He said, “Make sure you hire someone that you know that you are going to fire during that training week. That way you make a point with the rest of the staff and they will do what you want.” Dan, who I greatly admired, was sharing what I thought was a secret bit of knowledge that he thought would make me a better director. (Notice, I didn’t say leader). Like that generator, when it wasn’t performing well; this just did not sound right at all.

And so, I did it anyway because Dan had tremendous power. And during that week, I knew that Gus was that person. He was having a tough time with direction and he was likable. I knew he was going to go in a matter of days. And when the time came, I made it very public and I thought that I orchestrated this so well. We were in the middle of a session and he was getting riled up and I kept prodding him along until he blew up. At that point I told him,” Gus, you’re done. Thank you very much. I’d like you to go and pack up. Your services here are no longer needed.” I won’t describe what happened from there and it was not pretty, nor am I proud of any of it.

I felt like a real boss that day. I felt like my staff would now listen to everything I would ask of them and for a short time (very short) they did. I can also tell you that later, I threw up.

I can’t tell you that I changed that practice. I thought this is what one does, and you must stomach through it all. Dan would not have told me to do that if it wasn’t something that should happen. And folks, for several years, I did just that.

And to Gus, and Debbie and Mike and Pete and Simon and Shirley, let me apologize here and now. It took me some time to realize that directing from a place of fear and intimidation was not at all where I wanted to be as a leader. I can’t say that I have had to fire others. But I can say that for the last 33 years, I have never hired someone to be limited in my expectations.

Richard Bach said, “Argue for your limitations and they’re yours.”

“I learned that if you limit your team, they will live down to those exact limitations.” John Maxwell talks about this in the Law of the Lid in his 21 Irrefutable Laws of Leadership. No team rises hirer than that of the leaders lid and once I started to raise my lid, I saw the power of how others would rise to the occasion.

There is a rhythm in everyone’s life and how they lead. I believe that mine is in the key of F Sharp.

 

 

 

 

2020 Summer's End – “You’re crying, so I know you are doing it correctly”

Night Hike from Castle Rock, Big Bear Lake, CA

 

(40 Summers 40 Lessons Series)

During a recent meeting of the American Camp Association Upstate New York Community, we were all reminded by our membership director that, “if you are too comfortable, you are probably doing it wrong.” This was part of his description of the camps that had in fact run this summer and how they were adhering to the safety protocols and pushing themselves, their campers, and staff teams through the season.

At the beginning of summer 2020, I wrote on this blog that I would be sharing 40 summers and 40 lessons. I mentioned what I have learned about life and leadership in what has been handed down to me as a manner in which I have shared with hundreds and thousands over the last 40 summers. “Camp is all about beginnings and endings.”

It is a leadership lesson that as I think about this year, is still relevant and truer than ever before.

Labor Day weekend always represents finality to the camp season. As I mentioned about Memorial Day weekend, many of my summers spent at Bluff Lake often ended on Labor Day Monday evening with a hike to Castle Rock. I spent a few of those with friends and co-workers on top of Castle Rock overlooking Big Bear Lake in the San Bernardino Mountains of Southern California.

There was one particular Labor Day that my lifetime friend, Chris and one of our staff team, Katie (daughter to George, whom I have written multiple times) spent together. We had hiked out to Castle Rock and were heading back in the darkness wandering the 1.3 mile long trail back to camp.

At some point in the darkness we had heard loud animal noises and had dispatched several rocks into the woods and brush to hopefully scare off anything that may have been watching us. (I’ll share a tale of a mountain lion encounter at a later date). We were all a bit apprehensive about those kinds of encounters.

We had stopped cold in our tracks and pitched those rocks and sticks and when we heard nothing else, we just stood still for a while. Chris suggested each of us find a rock to carry for the rest of the trail. And so, we did. Chris took the point and Katie marched behind as a brought up the rear.

Our conversations were always intriguing and in low toned voices. It often evolved about summer memories and what we would take away from those lessons. Endings always seemed to bring that out in each of us and as mentioned, camp was in fact, all about that (at least 50%).

I think about this summer and juxtaposed to that night and I long for that connection that occurred for us as we strolled along the trail. I have recently returned from a trip out of state and besides having to self isolate for 14 days, decided for peace of mind that I would go take a Covid test.

As I pulled up to the drive thru Covid test, I immediately had that sense of anxiousness that seems to creep up in daily life over the past six months.

The LPN was dressed head to toe in protective gear and I could tell he was smiling underneath it all. He greeted me warmly and pronounced my name correctly as he told me to keep my window rolled up. He described the process and that I would need to insert the probe to the back of my nostril until I felt resistance. And then, hold it there for 15 seconds as he held the stop watch. Oh, and then do that again for the other nostril.

I must have made a face as he assured me, “you’ll do great Mr. Ferreira,” as he smiled again under the mask and screen. I followed the directions and my eyes began to water under the pressure point that I assume was how close I was to an ocular nerve.

Upon completion of the second nostril, I placed the item in the tube, snapped of the end of the probe and sealed it all into the plastic hazard bag to return to the LPN.

As I rolled down the window to hand it all to him, he stated, “You’re crying, so I know you did it correctly.”

The irony of it all made me laugh and I thanked him for the levity and comfort that he offered.

Laughing and crying, it is all related. It has all been quite a bit uncomfortable. The distance from fear to funny is quite close when you consider it.

End of Summer's trail, "what was that?" moment.

Back to that night on the trail. As we approached the outskirts of camp Chris and Katie suddenly jumped as a loud thud occurred in the woods near the trail. It was an abrupt stop. I lurched towards them attempting to stop and bent over in a sudden realization of laughter. They both stared at the woods and then at me.

The last few hundred yards we had quieted our conversation. The only sounds at that point were our steps and our breathing. We were emerging from the tree line and I saw the lights near the camp generator shed across the meadow; I decided we no longer had to fear the sounds in the darkness.

Still bringing up the rear of our hike, I threw away the rock that I had been carrying.

Their fear, and my laughter, that set the memory and the emotion of the end of that summer. I have to believe that this summer’s end will be likewise. It is the human experience after all that this year has brought us so far. The human reaction is what it is. We laugh, we cry, we react to the circumstances of our lives.

“So if you’re crying (or laughing), I know you did it correctly.”