Author: Angie

I am mom to Re and Boo. They are the best part of me, bring out the best in me and keep me striving to continue to be the best I can be. I have been a single mom for much of my parenting life and that one single fact defines me above all others.

On and off, over the past 30+ years I have had a 2nd job as a volleyball coach. It was mostly girls for the first 20 year or so, but I added boys teams a few year ago, all at the junior high/middle school level. Until 2015 when I when graduated to the high school level, where I have been an official part of both the girls and the boys high school programs at the same school. The transition from junior high to high school has been interesting. But regardless of the age or the gender, what I love best is sharing my passion for the game with young people, especially with those who believe there is still something this old lady can teach them.

I ask God every day that in addition to helping them be better volleyball players, I am helping them be better people.

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Uncategorized

I need a Hug

Sunday, March 22nd 2020 – Day #4 of Social Distancing.

I started working from home last Thursday. A handbook for working from home procedures was created about a week before we officially “left the building”. One of the procedures was that everyone had to be available during our defined “core hours” of 9-3. I started Thursday in front of my laptop at 6a and because the “big boss” asked me to do something at 3:20 that took me until 4:45 and then I still had a pile of emails to read and response to – I didn’t get up from the dining room table until 6p. In my 12 hour day I had had lots of coffee, 3 bathroom breaks, and one 30-minute walk outside (that I took during core hours). It was not a good day. And when I realized that I probably had at least 6 weeks of this in front of me, I cried. And it was an ugly cry…

Then I told myself that I needed some procedures of my own:
1. Regardless of when I get up in the morning, the soonest I will start work will be 7a
2. Despite the fact that I have a small house, I will designate a space that is “work” and when I am in it, I will work and when I am out of that space I will not work – I also did a few things to make my work space better on Saturday
3. As I have almost every day for the last 15 months, at some point each day between 10-2 I will get up from my desk and take a 45-minute walk
4. It doesn’t matter that my “after work” location matches my “during work” location, I will be ending my work day between 3:30-4:30
5. Only true emergencies will require me to continue working past 4:30, especially since I can likely finish up early the next morning before 9a
6. I am an empathetic extrovert and as such, there will be “things” I am going to do during the day that are just a basic part of who I am – to ensure that I don’t go crazy during this time of social distancing

Extrovert vs Introvert – it surprises me how many people really don’t understand the fundamental difference between those two words. The person who is always the “life of the party” could be either and introvert or an extrovert. I have always explained the difference this way:
– Introverts re-charge their batteries and get their energy to carry-on by retreating, being by themselves, getting some quality alone time.
– Extroverts re-charge their batteries and get their energy to carry-on by being with other people

Did I mention I’m an Extrovert? And that I have Empathy?

I need to chat around the proverbial water cooler in the office – multiple times a day with multiple people. I truly want to hear what you did over the weekend. I want to hear every detail of your child’s soccer match. I will gladly listen as you describe the fear you feel about our latest work changes or how hurt you felt when co-workers forgot your birthday. And I want my hugs – the daily hug from one of our Help Desk techs and the random hug from a long-time co-worker whom I see about once a month.

During this time of social-distancing, some people who are usually “fine” from a mental health perspective, may really struggle. I am grateful for my village who has clearly recognized – maybe even before I did – how difficult this time is going to be for me. I will be on social media more now than previously. I will respond to non-emergency personal texts and calls during the work day. I will reach out to co-workers via text and email just to ask them about their weekend or how their day is going – not to be polite, but because I really want to know how they are doing.

And finally, I really would appreciate it if people would self-quarantine at home right now. I understand that not everyone can work from home, but everyone can stay at home outside of work and a weekly trip to the grocery store. If more of us would stay home now, then all of us could get back to “our normal”, sooner. And I could get more hugs.

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How do you measure success

I just hit “send” on the email announcing that I have transitioned into a new role with the high school volleyball program that I started from the ground up four years ago. My new role is that of assistant coach. I am no longer the head coach. I no longer have to schedule matches and practices or order uniforms or coordinate the spirit wear order or make sure physical forms have been turned in or find volunteers to work the door and the scorer’s table or do post-game write-ups until well after midnight, or compile stats…or…or…or!

So, now it’s time to reflect over the last four years. It is time to assess. Was I successful in my endeavor to create and maintain a boys high school volleyball program? Did I accomplish the goals I set out to accomplish? Unfortunately, I am that obsessive/compulsive and I do feel the need to evaluate this right now. So, the first step I took was backwards. I just re-read all of my previous blog posts about my high experiences coaching boys high school volleyball. Naturally, I cried. One of my earliest posts was actually about crying and how high school boys might react to a coach that tends to cry “happy tears”. Yep, I pretty much nailed that post – I wasn’t going to change and they adapted to my behavior.

So, what is success and can it be measured? Well, wins and losses can easily be measured. Final standing in tournaments and coaches polls are also easily measured. And while all athletes need to “win” sometimes, I don’t think I can evaluate the success or fail of my attempt to build a high school volleyball program, from the ground up, in four years, solely by looking at the number of matches won compared to the number of matches played.

I think school administrators would call it a success, I have received a couple of emails today stating that very directly. We doubled the number of participants from year one to year four. In four years have graduated 15 players and 5 managers from the program. Attendance numbers at home matches have risen dramatically. We won conference this year, had four players on the all-conference team, and seven players academic all-conference. We finished 9th in the state for the second year in a row. We placed six players on academic all-state and one on the all-state team this year. Our winning percentage has continued to increase each season, finishing at 75% this season.

However, we set a goal at the end of the second season to be playing on State Tournament weekend and while I thought it was a stretch goal of 2017, I was fairly confident it was an attainable goal in 2018. We didn’t make it either year. We never finished a weekend tournament as #1 or #2.

In a post from 2017, I wrote – It is my job to push them out of their comfort zones, challenge them to be better and do better, equip them to identify differences, learn how to adapt to and even embrace those differences, and to share my love, passion and knowledge of the game of volleyball with them.
And in a post from 2016, I wrote – At the conclusion of our day, I shared with you the things I want others to notice and remember about “my boys”:
1. They show respect for officials, fans, coaches, managers, opponents and teammates
2. They are good kids who are fun to watch play the game
3. They know, love and understand the game

Yep, I need look no further than my own previous posts to find my measures of success. I had no idea what I was getting into 4 years ago. It took more time, effort and energy than I every imagined. At times it took more than I thought I had to give. But the flip side is that what I have received back from the players and managers that I have had the privilege of working with over the last four years far exceeds the time, effort and energy spent working to build the program. The hugs on senior night from boys with tears in their eyes who could barely whisper “thank you”. The heart-felt thank you notes, emails, text messages and social media posts from players and managers at the conclusion of the season erase ALL the sleep-deprived nights (and days).

I don’t need wins or losses to know whether or not I have been successful. I have something so much better. I have the kids. The ones who send me texts and mention me in social media posts. The ones who stop and give me a hug every time they see me. The ones who go out of their way to speak to me. The college football player who included his one year of high school volleyball experience in the football program bio. Or the one who pulled his car over to stop and talk to me on the street. And the one who just recently said good night after summer league and then came back, because he hadn’t remembered to say thank you.

To all of my former, current and future players – you are my measure of success. The lessons and memories you take from our time together and then shape into your future and your own successes – that is my measure of success. No time spent with children is ever wasted. I am eternally grateful for the time you chose to spend with me.

Forever yours in volleyball,
Coach Angie

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Family My Village special needs

So many different kinds of tears

Boo received his first college acceptance in the mail yesterday. Exactly two weeks after we started the process of applying for admission to 15 higher education institutions, we have the first reply and it is positive! The tears appeared in my eyes the moment I reached into the mailbox and felt the packet – my hand knew what was happening before my eyes could confirm it – I knew exactly what it was. My knees grew weak and while I intended the words “Thank you, Jesus” to be a silent prayer, I am positive they were audible. I had to will myself back up the drive-way and into the house, then I had to compose myself so when I called Josh out of his room to tell him he had mail, he would see tears of joy and nothing else. We took a couple of pictures, we each posted something on social media and we shared in the moment. He immediately got congratulatory texts and positive responses on the social media posts. And then he went on about his evening – a perfectly normal response.

While the response from Boo was normal, the journey to this milestone has been anything but normal. College admission applications submitted on August 5 for the following academic year rarely receive an acknowledgement within two weeks, let alone an acceptance package. I don’t very often name people or places in my blog – but Marian University will have a special place in my heart (and now my blog) FOREVER. And just to be clear, MU is not the institution of higher education where I have worked for the last 31 years. But, I am getting a head of myself. I need to back up and start at the beginning of this journey…MY journey to Boo’s first college acceptance.

Boo’s father left me when I was 6 months pregnant. I was a 35 year old, single mom of an 8 year old daughter and a son on the way. I was scared, I was embarrassed, I was exhausted…and I didn’t have time for any of those emotions or physical conditions. I had to move on. I gave birth to a healthy baby boy via a planned C-section, with a sister-in-law by my side. I was so sick from the anesthesia, it was hours before I could even sit-up in bed and hold my baby. When Re came to meet her little brother about 8 hours after he was born, the sight of me scared her. Thankfully, another sister-in-law and two brothers were available to help and ease the fears of a worried child. Four days later we were all home and feeling much better. My parents each took a week off work, so I had in-home help for the first two weeks we were a family of three. Then we were alone. I was scared, I was embarrassed, I was exhausted…I didn’t have time for any of those emotions or physical conditions.

Shortly before Thanksgiving, my boss at the time delivered a huge planter to the house, in a white wicker basket with baby blue and white gingham bows. She stayed and visited for awhile, it was nice to have adult conversation and while she paid attention to the new baby, her primary interest in the visit seemed to be me. On her way out, she told me there was a card in the basket. A couple hours later, I opened the card. It contained a hand-written note about how strong I would need to be and how I shouldn’t be afraid to call on friends, co-workers and God when I couldn’t find the strength alone. The card also contained $400 worth of gift certificates. I can’t remember what I had for dinner last night, but I remember that planter and that note like it was yesterday. I was scared, I was embarrassed, I was beyond exhausted. But, for the first time in over 3 months, I took the time to acknowledge those emotions and physical conditions and I let myself cry.

Fast forward to Boo’s first year in kindergarten. It was obvious to his teacher by Thanksgiving, that it would not be in Boo’s best interest to move on to first grade the next year. It took me a couple more months and research on the IHSAA’s website to determine that 19 year old high school seniors were still eligible to compete in high school sports, before I finally agreed to that plan. It was the 2nd trip through kindergarten when teachers started to talk to me about ADHD and the possibility of putting Boo on medication. I was so resistant to medication. Instead, I read everything I could find on other ways to deal with ADHD. I changed his diet, I read food labels like it was my only job, I started behavior modification programs with him. I was scared, I was embarrassed, I was sad, I was exhausted – so I took a little time to cry. And then I was back at it.

It was in the Spring of first grade that I started discussing ADHD with Boo’s pediatrician and the summer between 1st and 2nd grade when Boo started on medication. Several weeks into 2nd grade, when the medicated Boo was continuing to experience even more frustration at school that I awoke – like a Momma Bear coming out of years of hibernation! I was scared, I was a little embarrassed, I was sad, I was angry, I was exhausted. I yelled – at no one, and then I cried. And then I asked for a conference with several people from Boo’s elementary school and I asked for a special needs representative. And it was granted. And then came the weeks, which turned to months as we went through various types of testing and evaluations with me, with his teachers, with his pediatrician. There was lost paperwork and what seemed like endless delays. I was scared, I was sad, I was angry, I was frustrated, I was embarrassed by some of my behavior – but no longer by my situation, I was exhausted. I yelled – mostly to no one, sometimes to wonderfully forgiving people, I cried. It was during these crying periods, that I determined that the energy I was expending on feeling anger needed to be channeled to serve a better purpose.

Finally armed with an official, albeit ambiguous, diagnosis and a long list of accommodations, I went back to my roots and started teaching. From 3rd grade – 6th grade, I picked up Boo from school at 3:45 everyday and would spend 2-3 hours re-teaching whatever that day’s lessons were. This was in addition to his tutor working through lunch one day a week with him and one afternoon a week with him. Boo was allowed 1 extra-curricular activity at a time, which typically meant 2 week night activities and 1 weekend activity. We also spent at least 4 hours each weekend working on school work. At a minimum, Boo was spending 16 hours a week on school work outside of the standard 35-hour school week. He would often say that he was the only kid in the state of Indiana who was both home-schooled and went to school. These four years, happen to coincide with the four years that Re was away at college. I honestly don’t know how I could have devoted so much time to one child, if I had had another child at home at the same time. And after Boo went to bed each evening, I would “work from home” for two hours to make up for leaving early every day. I was scared, I tried very hard not to be angry anymore, I was sad, I was still frustrated, I no longer felt embarrassed, some days I would feel a flicker of HOPE and I had grown numb to the exhaustion. But not all days were bad days, some days were good. I was crying ALL THE TIME, but some of the tears were happy tears!

Welcome to Junior High! I so appreciated Re being back home and going to work at her alma mater which was also Boo’s new school, and my opportunity to return to somewhat normal work hours at least a few days a week. Thank you for block scheduling – this Learning Disabled student’s best scheduling option – and Basic Skills teachers – someone besides mom talking about good study habits and tips/tricks. And finally, the ability of the 8th grade student to take some high school classes with the anonymity afforded a “junior high student” – meaning unsuccessful attempts didn’t appear on the official high school transcript. Junior High had challenges – there were now several teachers with whom I needed to communicate and Boo needed to get to know and get used to their teaching styles. There was also a resignation, that in at least one area of education, we had identified a limitation due to the Learning Disability. Hard work, determination and unwavering perseverance was not going to be enough to get him though a foreign language – at least not when it is taught based on the assumption of a traditional understanding of the English language. I was scared, I was frustrated, I was sad, I was hopeful, I was exhausted – but at least I felt it. Some days I cried happy tears, some days I cried sad tears and some days I cried frustrated tears.

And then there was high school. From spring of 9th grade through spring of 11th grade, my incredibly curious, always happy, unbelievably hard-working little boy hit some really, really rough times. A child can’t have the type of Learning Disability that Boo has without also having some social issues. The inability to process things sequentially, the inability to recognize patterns, and years of being surrounded by people who only wanted to support Boo and do what was best for him, left him completely unprepared and unequipped for bullies. Yep, I said it – bullies. And these bullies came in the form of adults as well as children. And while all interactions would not have held up to the criminal definition of bully, I believe that some would have. It didn’t help that during this same time, Boo was dealing with a serious shoulder injury, so there was physical pain involved as well. Once again, he needed extra help – but this time I was not equipped to provide it to him. I was scared, unbelievably frustrated and very angry. I should have also been sad, disappointed and exhausted – but was too numb to feel any of that. I cried a lot of angry and frustrated tears.

But, my son needed help, so I found some for him – for both of us. I got him help from a psychologist, a surgeon, a physical therapist, a learning support teacher, a guidance counselor and a couple of special volleyball coaches. It took many months to heal some injuries, fewer to heal others. I watched as in his usual fashion, Boo applied hard work, a positive attitude and curiosity to get through it all. I have had a good summer, it didn’t go exactly as planned and there was some disappointment – but I saw Boo take those lemons and make lemonade. There has been great growth – especially from a social perspective. I know he is looking forward to the completion of his senior year and the adventures that lay ahead. By contrast, I am planning to soak up very minute of the next nine months. But when the time comes, I will do as I have always done and provide him with what he needs to be successful – including taking a few steps back.

I am no longer angry, I am frustrated occasionally, I am disappointed by a few situations, I think I will always be scared, I am excited for his new opportunities, I am hopeful – because he has proven to be resilient. I am confident that he will not be admitted to all 15 schools to which he has applied and equally confident that he will be okay when he gets the occasional rejection letter. I am back to being tired, but no longer exhausted. I am thankful that I am feeling all of these things. And with the ability to feel so many different emotions come tears, lots and lots of tears…and I am grateful for those tears.

As I look back on my journey to Boo’s first college acceptance, I am able to see exactly where we have been and how far I have come by following that path of tears. To those who opted out of this journey with me and to those who put up obstacles in front of me, I forgive you. To those who have helped me on this journey, from the bottom of my heart, I thank you. My tears have made me a stronger, wiser and kinder mother, daughter, sister, friend and child of God. May you all find the kind of peace that I now feel after a good cry.

With hugs and love!

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Coaching Uncategorized Volleyball

My experience as a high school coach…

Yesterday marked the close of the 2017 Indiana Boys’ High School Volleyball Season. While my team officially finished our season a week earlier, some of us were involved in this past weekend’s activities. It is one of the few times a year that coaches and players from across the state are all together. It is good for the soul to be around so many people who share my love of the game and passion for growing the sport of boys volleyball. As the final awards were being presented to the state championship team, I found myself talking to a fellow coach and we started talking about our respective teams for next year. Then we both stopped, laughed…and agreed we should take a few days off between the end of the 2017 season and the beginning of the 2018 season. In truth, my official responsibilities for the 2017 season don’t end until early June – after Spring Sports Awards Night at the high school. Nonetheless, today seems like a good day to reflect on my experience as boys high school volleyball coach.

A mere 934 days ago, I was named the coach of the first boys volleyball team at my son’s high school. In three seasons, the program has grown from 13 boys on one team to 25 boys on two teams. The varsity team record has improved from 3-21 the first season to 22-9 in the third season. From a varsity perspective over three seasons, kills have risen from 256 to 826; digs have increased from 843 to 1628, serve attempts have gone from 1013 to 1957 and serve receptions from 747 to 1344. No matter how you look at it, the program has seen growth – lots of growth. But these numbers, as spectacular as they are, don’t begin to measure everything that I have experienced over the last 934 days.

Self-Doubt – yep, I’ve experienced some of that over the last three years, but never more than this year. Do I have what it takes to coach volleyball to high school boys? Is my “coach coat” thick enough to withstand the second-guessing I am getting from the “arm-chair coaches” who sometimes watch a match? Is my “mom cloak” tough enough to withstand the shortsightedness that some people have as it pertains to dealing with young people, each with their own learning styles, learning capacities and levels of motivation? I must remember that self-reflection and course corrections are healthy things to do as I grow and mature as a coach and a mom, however, it is unproductive to begin second-guessing myself in response to whispers, followed by deafening silence. I need to be strong enough and comfortable enough with myself, to remain true to my convictions and stay on the current course. The time and energy spent worrying and wondering about course correction, without clear evidence it is needed, is taking quality time away from the young people in my program as well as my family.

Sleep-deprivation – been there and done that. From the end of February through the middle of May, I get about 32 hours of sleep a week. That’s an average of under 5 hours a night – which wouldn’t be bad, if it was evenly distributed. Unfortunately, it is only 3 to 4 hours of sleep a night for several nights in a row and then catch up on Sunday. There is much to do during volleyball season, over and above time spent in the gym for practices and matches. My normal house-hold responsibilities take a back seat to volleyball as well. In season, I feel good when the bathrooms are clean, the laundry is done, the Green Bean order as been submitted and bills have been paid. Perhaps I can learn to delegate a few of the out of the gym responsibilities to others, both in the program and at home.

Helplessness – that moment when I have to let go and see what happens. Some of these moments define individuals, while others define a team. Have I provided the appropriate foundation? When is the right time to take the training wheels off and see how far they can ride, before they realize I am no longer holding on to the bike? A coach can only take a team so far, the rest is up to the team. There comes a time when the athletes simply have to “do” what they have learned. The time for practice is over, the time for questions is past, it is time for action and I pray that I have prepared my boys well for that time. In the end, I know that they have to be willing to give up a little bit of themselves, for the good of the team. They have to not only understand their teammates abilities, but they have to be willing to spend at least a little time seeing the game from their teammates perspectives. These helplessness moments happen again and again through-out a season, some are more telling than others. A few times this season, I let go and my boys soared, while other times, they sunk. One day in particular comes to mind, a day when we experienced both our best and our worst moments of this season. Unfortunately, we ended the day with the worst and I fear that is the only thing they remember from that day. As their coach, I know that it is impossible to eliminate all of the bad moments, but hopefully I can find a way to capitalize on the positive moments, so they are the ones that we remember.

Joyful Contentment – what I feel after I have taken the time to reflect on and evaluate my third season of a three-year program and determine that despite some set-backs, my kids are better players, as well as better people, for the time we have spent together. We have grown as individuals as well as a team. We, of course, have room for improvement, but since I have more to teach them and I am certain they have more to teach me, I am certain that improvement will not be hard to find. I am still a bit tired, but I know that in a few weeks, I will find myself missing weeknight practices from 7-9, early morning Saturday tournaments and coming home from some away matches at 10:30 at night. I will even miss saying “no balls until the nets are setup” or hearing a certain assistant coach say “your passing progressions partner can’t be related to you, in your same grade or on your same team”. Most of all, I will miss seeing the recognition on their faces, when they are finally able to grasp a concept that previously alluded them and when they are finally able to flawlessly execute a skill they insisted they would never be able to perform.

It is my job to push them out of their comfort zones, challenge them to be better and do better, equip them to identify differences, learn how to adapt to and even embrace those differences, and to share my love, passion and knowledge of the game of volleyball with them. And for this, I would gladly suffer from self-doubt, sleep-deprivation and the feeling of helplessness. In the end, the bad stuff fades away and the fond memories and contentment are what remains.

Categories
Coaching Family

Before ringing in the new year…

It seems only natural to spend today reflecting on 2016, many people have spent the last several weeks writing about their reflections of 2016. In fact, I started to write a FaceBook post of my reflections and instead decided to add a blog entry and share it on social media – yup…two years after starting this blog I am finally ready to share it with the world, or at least with the small part of the world that follows me on social media. Before I get to my reflections, a word about respecting the privacy of others. I have purposefully avoided using real names for everyone except myself in this blog. Even when referring to my own children I use their nicknames, everyone else is referred to in general terms based on their relationship to me. Simply put, I believe everyone has the right to determine for themselves where their name can be found when searching the world-wide web.

Nationally, I suppose 2016 will be remembered as the year of celebrity deaths and the presidential election. But my personal reflections for 2016 have nothing to do with either of those topics. A couple of weeks ago, at our family Christmas celebration, it was mentioned that when I provided answers for our annual family trivia game, most of my answers were about events in my children’s lives, not my own. A few weeks before that, I was talking to a co-worker about my boys’ volleyball team and mentioned that I ran it more like a family than a team – he nodded, smiled and said he had no trouble believing that. So, today, as I mentally reviewed 2016 and started anticipating 2017 – I had some sobering thoughts…what the heck am I going to do when my kids aren’t a part of my every day life? Is my life only about the events in my children’s lives? Oh crap, what have I done?

And I spent a scary 10 minutes in my own head. I reviewed the ages of kids, 26 and 18; calculated the reduction in the number of daily interactions that I have with Re now, compared to 7 years ago; extrapolated what that would mean for Boo over the next 7 years; the amusing part of this story is that I CAN (and did) do the math. Then I started laughing, out loud, as I sat in my recliner, in my very quiet family room, sipping my 2nd cup of coffee of the day. Yes, I only have two biological children, but I have seven nieces, one nephew, about 20 young people who actually call me “Mama”, and hundreds of other young people who I consider part of my extended family. I have enough of “my own kids” for daily interactions to last me a lifetime.

Here are a few of my favorite “My Kids” reflections from 2016 – in no particular order:

  • Less than 6 months old and I am not allowed to retire from coaching until I have had the opportunity to be her volleyball coach.
  • 2016 high school grad who stopped me on the street to tell me he was working a full-time job, I told him I was proud of him for recognizing that he wasn’t ready for college, yet.
  • The 30-something year old who commented on a picture I posted, telling me that I was beautiful “inside and out”.
  • The young man who refused to remain silent while another boy was being bullied.
  • Me, sitting on the gym floor, consoling one of my boys after a tournament loss – he was injured most of the season.
  • Planning the “Sweet 16 – Tiara Required” birthday party that will take place in June 2017.
  • Being asked if a hug would make me feel better and then getting hugs from 10 sweaty boys.
  • The brave and selfless act of telling a teacher, to help a child in need.
  • Being asked if I always pray during volleyball matches. (Duh, of course I do)
  • Watching some of my boys win a state football championship – making memories that will last a lifetime.
  • Quietly and nervously sitting on the sidelines watching my girl be successful doing what she loves.
  • A small world encounter where I refer to someone as my child and then quickly have to explain not my biological child.
  • Hearing the words “he’s out of surgery, but it’s worse than we thought”, but then eventually hearing “my shoulder has never felt better”.
  • Being told countless times what wonderful children I have.

These are just the tip of the iceberg. My heart is full of 2016 memories of “my kids”. I will close this post with a thank you. A thank you to the parents of “my kids”. Thank you for trusting me enough to share your precious children with me. Thank you for allowing me to spend time with them and have some small part in helping them grow up. For as long as there are parents like you, I will have kids a part of my everyday life.

Bring it on 2017 – I am ready!

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Uncategorized

Saying Good-Bye to a Mentor and a Friend

A few weeks ago, I attended the memorial service of my first career mentor. This woman was my mentor, before I knew what it meant to have a career mentor. We worked together for about 26 years. During that time, she hired me twice to work for her. Even in death, she had something to teach me.

I first went to work for Sondrea is 1992. I was running from an uncomfortable situation in my current job and she found me walking the halls in an effort to calm myself down. She invited me into her office where we talked for at least the next 2 hours. I am sure she had other work she should have been doing, but I felt like the most important thing she had to do that afternoon. As luck would have it, she had recently failed a search for a newly created position in her department and she thought I would be perfect for the job. Truth be told, I would have taken any position she could offer. In reality, I was perfect for the job. She needed someone to come in and re-engineer many of the business processes for her department. She needed someone who could look at the work in a totally different way. My complete inexperience in her department business, made me the perfect person for the job. Within 6 weeks she was my new boss and our partnership began.

She taught me countless things in our time together. Some of it was about work, most of it was about life. I asked to speak at her retirement party in May 2012, despite the fact that I hadn’t worked for her in over 10 years. I was thrown in as the middle speaker – I spoke, I laughed, I cried and I sang. She met me with a hug as I stepped down from the podium, we both cried some more and we showed 100+ people what a mentor relationship could really be.

Here is the text of that speech:
We all know Sondrea as our beloved Registrar of Butler University. We all know about her years of dedication to this Institution and her love for all of the people whose lives she has touched. We know that she bleeds Butler blue. But for all that we know, I do believe that few know her as I do. Over the years, she hired me – TWICE. For about 8 years we had offices right next to each other. And as she would say we have traveled many miles ‘on the dawg’!
-We have savored beignets in the French Quarter and went shopping
-We have visited rose farms in Portland and went shopping
-We have enjoyed ribs in Dallas and went shopping
-We have feasted on the largest baked potatoes I have ever seen in Provo and went shopping
-We congratulated runners just after they completed the Boston Marathon and went shopping
-We have collected money from one-armed bandits in Reno and spent that money when we went shopping
-And finally, we have thrown parties in Presidential Suites that we prepared for by going shopping

In addition to knowing Sondrea better than most, I have also learned more from Sondrea than most of you. Today, I would like to share a Top Ten List. The Top Ten List of things that Sondrea has taught me in the 26 years we have worked together:
10. You have to make time for work, don’t let it be the only time you make
9. There will always be at least one instructor who forgets to turn in grades, no amount of technology will ever change that, be prepared to work around it
8. Dora should be in attendance at all meetings, even if you are the only one who knows she’s there
7. It is possible to spend hours and hours in a fabric store and never tire from the experience
6. Since you have to play the game, be sure and have fun
5. There are times when even the smallest mistake is a big deal, commencement is one of those times
4. Children are the most precious gift you will ever be given, yours and everyone else’s
3. There can be MANY, MANY ways to get a job done; looking for the right way will narrow down your choices
2. You will catch more flies with honey than vinegar
1. When on a business trip, there is always enough room in your luggage for your new purchases; because you just ship your dirty clothes home!

To Sondrea (aka Dora), over the years you have worn many different hats. You have been my boss, my personal seamstress, my barometer of reasonableness, my colleague, my friend, my partner in crime and most importantly, my mentor… Ours has been a very interesting path of continuing intersections. There are really no words to convey the gratitude that I have for your willingness to give me a shot all of those years ago. To take a chance on someone who was looking for a new position at the University for all of the wrong reasons. It was a gamble for both of us. I hope it worked half as well for you as it did for me.

Today I celebrate a friend, a friend who has seen me at my best and my worst, both personally and professionally…you have encouraged me, guided me, taught me, listened to me and above all else, respected me….the simple words ‘Thank you’ seem inadequate…so, just for you…
Thank you, thank you,
Thank God for you, the wind beneath my wings.
(I sang these last two line to her)

The dementia was already quite noticeable in May 2012 when she retired. I saw her a few times after that, including when I sang the full text of the song, Wind Beneath My Wings at her husband’s memorial service held in May 2013.

RIP Sondrea, you are now free to fly with the angels.

Categories
Uncategorized

A letter to my boys

Thursday, March 31, 2016

Dear Team,

I don’t know about you, but I had a very fitful night’s sleep. I replayed last night’s match over and over again in my mind. While I am emotionally and mentally tired today, I suspect you are all physically tired as well. I don’t like the idea of not getting closure as a team on last night’s match, yet I want to be able to focus on upcoming matches when we get back together again after Spring Break. So, I decided to use my blog to write you a letter.

Last Saturday, we played two matches and lost them both. At the conclusion of our day, I shared with you the things I want others to notice and remember about “my boys”:
1. They show respect for officials, fans, coaches, managers, opponents and teammates
2. They are good kids who are fun to watch play the game
3. They know, love and understand the game
And I let you know how disappointed I was in your performance on Saturday, not because you lost, but because you didn’t exhibit any of those traits.

Fast forward to last night. We played a long and intense 5-set match. The official record indicates a loss (18-25, 25-21, 25-23, 23-25, 10-15), but we are so much more than that. According to Butler University’s head volleyball coach, we are an incredible 2nd year program. She went on to say that we played a great match and we were so much fun to watch. Our new favorite official said she hopes that she has the opportunity to work more of our games, because you are a great group of boys. And the opposing coach just smiled and said, “What a difference a year makes”.

I see many 5 game sets in our future this season – some we will win, some we will lose – but in all of them we will learn, grow and improve. We coined a new phrase last night during a time-out…We are One. Meaning we are no longer 11 players, 2 managers and 2 coaches in a program, or even 6 players on a court. Rather, we are one cohesive group, with the same objectives, playing for the growth and benefit of our program. Along the way, there will be individual accomplishments and we will celebrate those, together. Along the way, there will be momentary lapses in what others notice about us, it will not match what is outlined above, but we will re-group and fix it, together. We will win together, we will lose together, we will be together.

I am sorry that I did not make a point to tell you how proud I was of you last night. Last night you delivered on all of the things I want people to notice and remember about “my boys and my girls“.

Yours in volleyball,
Coach Angie

Categories
Uncategorized

Valuable coaching reminder, from an unlikely source

[An entry from January 10, 2016, that I forgot to post]

I spent yesterday as a spectator at a boys club volleyball tournament. And while I am pleased to be able to report that Boo had his best performance yet, since returning to the court after a serious shoulder injury, this post isn’t about my son or any team with which I am connected. Rather, this post is about being reminded of a very valuable coaching lesson – a lesson that all coaches should share with their team.

Yesterday’s tournament was very small. It consisted of only 8 teams, playing on two side-by-side courts. With so few teams it was hard not to see each team play at least one match. And despite the small number of teams, there were a few outstanding individual players and some exciting moments of good volleyball for even the casual volleyball enthusiast to enjoy.

However, the most remarkable team from my perspective didn’t have an outstanding individual, nor did they have any exceptionally exciting moments. What they had were rotations where the setter came from left-back on serve receive. What they had were nine young men who likely had less competitive volleyball experience than every other team at the tournament. They had was a coach who likely has never coached a nationally recruited athlete and who probably doesn’t have any personal collegiate playing experience.

What this team had – was a game plan. A game plan that both coach and players knew and understood. A game plan that they ALL executed to perfection. Re commented that this team wasn’t just “reading from the same play book, they were on the exact same page in that play book”. The team didn’t finish first, but they finished much higher than the talent of the individual players would have indicated. Anyone can take a talented group of athletes, call it a team and win some matches – but what do you really have in the end – I contend that it is NOT a good team. It takes discipline, desire, preparation and hard work to take an average group of athletes and turn them into a good team. It takes a coach willing to spend extra time and be invested in her players and figuring out how to play to their strengths.

Thanks for the reminder!

Categories
Family

Grandparents

And then, there were none…

The day I was born, I had at least EIGHT living grandparents. I am embarrassed that I don’t know the exact number; I know that it was at least eight, because I can remember when each of those eight grandparents died. Great Grandpa Roberto and Great Grandpa Caliguri both died when I was in elementary school. Grandpa Conley died during my 8th grade volleyball season. Great Grandma Roberto and Great Grandma Caliguri (both named Sanita), died during my senior year in college. Nana Conley, to whom I thank daily for my common sense and work ethic, died in 2001. I was 37 years old and grateful that she was able to meet both of children. And while I have fond memories of all of those six grandparents, this story is about Gramma and Grampa Strati.

Yesterday, we buried Gramma. She was 98 years old and we buried her 56 days after we buried Grampa who was 101 years old when he died. Gramma’s mind had been slipping for a long, long time and the more Grampa’s body gave out on him, the more obvious it became just how much and for how long he had been covering for her. He loved her and despite the fact that he was not one to easily show affection, his desire to keep Gramma safe from harm and to provide her with a familiar and comfortable home for as long as humanly possible was very evident.

As a child, I loved Grampa but would not say that I was particularly close to him. He was a very stubborn man who held tight to his convictions. As I grew older, I found that my beliefs and my Grampa’s beliefs were continuing to grow apart. I often found myself at odds with his beliefs and would sometimes cringe at things he said or the way he said them. But, he was my grandfather, so out of respect for him and love for Gramma, I held my tongue in public. In private, I would apologize, console and attempt to mend fences. My behavior was sometimes seen as weak and cowardly by some. But I am hoping with the passage of time comes an appreciation of the things you sometimes just do for family.

When we said our good-byes to Grampa in early July, all 11 of his grandchildren were present and over half of his 25 great-grandchildren were present. We took lots of pictures, many of them included Gramma. In fact, in one of her more lucid moments, she yelled at me. She told me that with my bad knees I should not be kneeling down beside her wheelchair. Until that moment I wasn’t even sure she knew who I was, but in that moment I realized that down on my knees, right next to her, is exactly where I was supposed to be. And other than thinking of Gramma being without her husband for the first time in over 76 years, there was little sadness surrounding Grampa’s death. He had lived a long, full, productive life. His legacy was his family.

We said our good-byes to Gramma on August 31 and once again all 11 grandchildren were present. It was one of the saddest days I have experienced in a long time. There is nothing sadder to me than watching one of my brothers cry and I think they all cried. It is the simplest things that make me cry for Gramma. I have cried at pictures, songs, pillow cases, dish cloths and the color pink. Gramma would not want anyone to cry. She would want people to be happy and to have fun. And as a family we did just that on Sunday night – she would have enjoyed that family dinner. We toasted, we prayed, we ate, we drank, we laughed. One of my brothers got in trouble, Gramma would have shaken her finger at him and then she would have started laughing. It was just as it should have been. About the only thing we didn’t do was play cards. Gramma loved to played cards.

All 11 grandchildren commented that we need to continue to find opportunities to get together. Before July, it had been over 11 years since all of the grandchildren had been together. And all 25 great-grandchildren have never been together. Gramma would really want us to get together more often. And even if we can’t ALL be together, more frequent gatherings of smaller groups would make Gramma happy, too. It was in those smaller gatherings that Gramma got to catch up with her grandchildren and got to know her great-grandchildren. Those more intimate settings are where Gramma was better able to make each person feel like they were her favorite – if only for a few moments. There is much that our family can learn from Gramma. Her legacy is how her family continues to grow in love, grace and beauty – the way she exemplified it.

Hopefully, with the passage of time comes an appreciation of the things you sometimes just do for family. And it is with that hope that I share a couple of personal thoughts and words for Gramma. May your love, grace and beauty always shine upon me, may your patience be ever-present in my life and finally, let peace begin with me.

I am forever your loving grand-daughter, Angela.
GGPA funeral

Categories
Coaching Volleyball

Inaugural season went almost as expected

My first season as a high school varsity coach went pretty much as I expected. We finished the year with an overall record of 3-20. I predicted 4 or 5 wins on the year and of our 20 losses there are easily two matches that we were more than capable of winning. I knew there would be days when the boys exceeded their potential – a set one win over Zionsville in our first ever home match followed by a set 2 loss where we scored 23 points proved that point. I knew there would be days when the boys would look like they had never seen a volleyball – that point was illustrated in a late season match against that same Zionsville team.

All-in-all, I accomplished most of my goals for the first year of our program. I wanted support and respect from opposing coaches for my boys and for our program. I wanted to be taken seriously by the athletic department and school administration as a varsity sport. I wanted the extended CRHS family to support our program. And finally, I wanted the boys to see themselves as varsity athletes in a program for which they could be proud.

The support from opposing coaches came immediately upon joining the IBVCA family of coaches and programs. Never have I felt such support in a professional endeavor. The support was then followed by respect from several of the coaches as well as the officials that we saw through-out the season. Their kind words about our progress as a team as well as individual athletes were high points in our season. I especially appreciated comments about “my libero” from people who had no idea that he was not only my player, but my son.

The extended CRHS family was wonderful. We had over 30 different individuals volunteer to assist us during the season. Many of the volunteers had a tie to the girls volleyball program. It was fun to see the reaction of high school girls watching high school boys play for the first time. We also experienced great attendance at our home matches, especially our inaugural match and senior night. Again, the reaction of some of the student fans was priceless as these students witnessed great athleticism from boys they presumed were not exceptional athletes.

It wasn’t until our season was complete that I was able to determine where my program stood from the perspective of the athletic department and school administration. And while I wished for clarity on this point sooner, I am thrilled with the results. At Spring Awards Night volleyball was the last team to present our awards and the only team to receive an introduction by the athletic director that specifically talked about where we came from, how far we had come and what a great addition we were to the CRHS sports family. I was humbled by the applause we received when I indicated that of the 6 new teams in the state in 2015, we finished with the 2nd best record win/loss record and one of our wins was against the team with the best win/loss record.

My players seeing themselves as varsity athletes and taking pride in their program is the goal that still has a lot of room for improvement. I hope that with a year of experience and a general understanding of what to expect, some of this will naturally improve in year number two. It was frustrating that neither my overall MVP, nor my mental attitude award winner attended Awards Night. Hopefully my senior class in 2016 will have enough pride in our program to show-up for awards night. Guess I will do a better job of communicating this goal through-out the 2016 season.

…and so it continues…