yes, it counts

This week I attended a training that felt like a turning point in my life. The funny thing is, within moments of the class beginning, I was annoyed. The training was on Project Management; an area of management theory with which I had about zero exposure to. Practical application, however, is another story, and that's where my annoyance came into play. There were interns in the room, and the statement was made that since they were "only students" they obviously had little to no PM experience, and any of us who were not management level likely had a fairly small amount of experience. Mom that I am, I immediately felt defensive for the interns--as far as I could tell, from my fairly recent college classes and watching and guiding my own kids, students use a ton of Project Management skills. Oh, and did I mention I felt particularly Mom-like? I also took the comment a little personally. Isn't raising a family of four children a major Project?

The first day of the class slowly proved me wrong. There are few times when I have dealt with deliverables or work breakdown structures. Unless getting everyone to games/practice/performances/church in one piece, and relatively in a reasonable state of mind counts as a deliverable! The first day also involved group work--not one of my favorite activities!

The second day was more my speed. Scheduling and finding critical paths, slack and float, all added up to the way I have always organized my work, my play, my life. I sent my husband a text: "I. Love. This." And he responded that he was not surprised. He has often told me that he sees me as a business analyst, and in his experience, the two go hand in hand. Quite a few years ago, we had an addition put on the house. The contractor told me one day about the next phase of the project, and the research he would be doing at home prior to getting my input. His wife had recently had a baby, and I knew what it was like to have a newborn, and a husband who had to work after work. I sat at our computer and did the research while he continued to work, and by the end of the day had taken care of the decisions that would have to be made, and had made up a loose schedule of dates that would work, based on what he had told me. At his daily wrap-up, he told us that I would make a fantastic project manager. I've always wondered just what that meant.

While I'd love to get certified, or get a degree in project management, it's likely a dream that will stay more nebulous than real. I'm satisfied--for now--knowing that I not only know the skills and have the tools for project management, but that I've been using them for ages without giving them a second thought. Hopefully, there will be other classes, and practical applications that relate to 'worker me.' In the meantime, here's one more reason why Momming is a valid section on my resume.

I'm not the one that needs convincing, though!

a great teacher

This morning, I woke to find news that a teacher of mine from High School had been murdered, outside his home. While I was shocked, I continued on with my morning as usual. At work, I told a co-worker, and after finding a news article online, emailed it to her, along with my thoughts at the moment.

I remember, I had space in my schedule, and decided to take some business classes, so I took accounting to fulfill a math requirement, and I took Intro to Marketing as an elective. How hard could it be? I thought, and I figured I would be circulating in a slightly different crowd than usual. Both thoughts were not entirely correct! The marketing information was fascinating to me--none of it was particularly difficult for me, but I ate it up: shrink wrap vs. clam shell packaging; the ratio of soda straw diameter to soda cup as figured by fast food chains; the relative hardness of seating in regard to turnover in a dining room.....all information that ultimately helped me in some of my college classes, though I remember sitting in that back corner of the room whining along with everyone else that it was fairly useless information. (I had a mad desire to fit in when I started that class.) As for the "new crowd," well, some of my friends must have had the same idea, as I don't remember meeting too many I didn't already know there. The teacher was Mr. Poet, and I loved class with him. He was not murdered.

He did, however, encourage any of us that were enjoying his class to join the school's Distributive Education Clubs of America (DECA), which he co-advised with a fairly new teacher, Mr. Keith Reed. Mr. Reed was, I discovered today, reading the news articles, only 6 years older than me. Yet he had the confident professionalism that made him both much older than that and ageless at the same time. And, yes, we all thought he was "cute." I remember even Mr. Poet mentioning it from time to time. I believe he was newly married at the time, and impressively aloof to our admiration. We didn't know anything about DECA, or what we were supposed to do as part of the club, but we would get to spend time with a fun, youthful teacher--and get out of school once in a while! What more could high school seniors ask for? Turns out, there was so much to learn--about business, about competition, and about life.

In DECA competition, Mr. Reed put me in the Supervisory Level competitions, even though I was terrified at the idea of playacting as a Manager. He said he knew that I had more brains than most of the judges, and that all I had to do was be myself and I'd do well. Nothing ever made me feel more confident in high school than his assurance, along with darn good scores at my first attempt at competition! I don't remember how many competitions we went to, although I do remember a hotel stay that was one of the best experiences of my Senior year. Sharing a room with three friends, all nervous about performing well and looking good in our business suits, was good prep for college dorm living! At competition, we would wait in chilly hallways for each other, and at awards, we'd eagerly await each other's scores, and graciously thank "Keith" (or "Keithage," as Jackie referred to him!) for his guidance, to which he would shake his head and say, "You can't call me that, you know." Eventually, it evolved into KEEEEEith! Since graduation, I have always thought of him as "KeithReed;" all one word.

When I'd have boyfriend troubles, he'd tell me to behave "professionally" and "with dignity" so that it wouldn't evolve into drama in my life. I learned so many life lessons from him. From him, I learned the value and importance of discretion, transparency, discernment. At the same time, I learned about teamwork in a work setting, and how it differs from, and is similar to, the teamwork necessary in sports. When Tanya and Jackie made it to National Competition, he encouraged us to be supportive of them, rather than jealous, promising to cheer for them on our behalf, which I have no doubt he did. At that same competition, I was being awarded a DEX scholarship from Johnson & Wales, where I would be going to college. Keith, my parents, and I (reluctantly! I wanted to go to NOLA!!) agreed that it made no sense for me to go on the trip just to accept the scholarship. Instead, Keith walked the stage to accept it for me while Jackie and Tanya cheered him on. Before I even knew what one was, he was my mentor.

I lost touch with him after graduation. (I left that September with the intent of never looking back. Another story for another time.) And with Mr. Poet. Though I have thought about the lessons, and the random information about marketing and merchandising floating in my head, and I frequently thank God that they were part of my development. Keith Reed will be missed by the students he was serving as Superintendent, those for whom he had been Principal, and by us, his early students, as well as by his family and friends. My prayers, and my tears, are for you today. I never could say it in the public school setting in which we knew each other: God bless you. Thank you for all you were, and for continuing to utilize the extraordinary gifts you had!