Month: September 2016

Order Matters

We live in a turbulent era — a time where order has been challenged. And for good reason. Our most fundamental right — the one that allows us to live — has been challenged by some of those sworn to protect it. And all too often, skin color is at the center of these tragic incidents.

As this grave issue has gained notoriety, related ones have come to light as well. We’ve collectively shown outrage at the blatant inequalities of our justice system, reopened discussions as to how we actually view black and white, and mourned disturbing acts of retributive violence that have rocked our communities.

We’re certainly a polarized nation. If you don’t believe that, look at the varying responses to NFL player Colin Kaepernick’s decision not to stand for the national anthem — a protest coined to shed light on race relations. Most of the support for the move has come from the black community; the white community has been much less forgiving.

Situations like these show our nation’s current predicament. We must fix these societal problems — but we need to do this in a unified, orderly fashion. This is a difficult feat, since there’s a crisis in confidence with our system of order at the moment. But it’s something we must pull off— as a world without order is fraught with danger.

***

I understand this as much as anyone. A short time ago, I went to a college football game in Oklahoma with a friend. Our seats were right next to the Oklahoma student section, and we decided to move over five feet and watch the game with the student body. While I was at first apprehensive about standing on the narrow metal bleachers with the student — especially considering it had just rained — I soon found out I had other concerns to contend with.

Shortly after kickoff, I felt something pushing against my back. It turns out the drunk guy behind me had dropped the cap to his pint of Jack Daniels, and he had knocked into me as he clumsily tried to pick it up. Moderately amused, I turned my attention back to the game. But a few minutes later, I found myself in the line of fire again — as the same guy started jawing with someone a row in front of me. As the argument got more and more heated, my focus for the evening drastically changed. I was no longer worried about watching the football game. I was instead worried about leaving the stadium in one piece.

Unfortunately, my fears soon became reality — although not courtesy of Mr. Jack Daniels. A man two rows above me had been trying to start fights all night. Someone finally obliged, shoving him and sending him flying; the man knocked me down a row as he fell, leaving me with a twisted ankle. When I looked up, he was charging through the crowd throwing haymakers.

It was only at this point that police and security showed up. They ultimately decided not to throw anyone out, but most of the troublemakers left on their own accord, as the game had become a blowout.

***

This experience was eye opening for me. A trip to a football game had become Jungle Law, simply because there was no one around to restore order. The situation was incredibly dangerous — although my minor ankle injury appeared to be the extent of the damage.

Take this scenario outside the walls of a football stadium, and the consequences are even more dire. While I certainly believe that Black Lives Matter and absolute power can corrupt absolutely, it’s clear that a complete lack of order is just as lethal as a corrupted system of order — maybe more. For when ill-meaning characters are allowed to run amok, we are all in the crossfire.

So we must not shun order completely. Instead we must work together to improve our system for everyone. We must ensure not only that innocent people are not victimized, but also that actual troublemakers are held accountable.

Restoring our confidence in order is not a black issue, or a white issue. It’s a gray issue.

It’s a challenge that affects all of us, but it’s one we’re compelled to take on directly.

Let us begin.

The Grill Brigade

Describe an accomplishment you’re proudest of.

I’ve come across this statement several times — often in a professional setting.

Having held positions at three different companies throughout my adult life, I’ve become adept at answering this question in a manner that conveys my passion and devotion to my career.

The accomplishments I’ve described — either on an application form or in an interview — have helped open doors to new opportunities. And they are things I’m immensely proud of.

But not proudest of.

You see, if I were to answer this question with the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth (so help me God), it would do nothing for me professionally.

That’s because the accomplishment I’m proudest of is the weekly football tailgate I organized in college.

***

Football season is back. As crisp fall days make their triumphant return, so many of us are thinking about gridiron traditions — rivalry games, packed stadiums and miles of tailgaters filling the air with smoke from charcoal and propane grills.

As much as I love the game of football itself, those tailgating scenes are what captivate me like nothing else.

There’s something about the smell of burgers and brats in the air, something about the sight of thousands of people cooking out in a parking lot, that just gets me, every time. It doesn’t matter if I head to the game on a full stomach — that scene never ceases to make me hungry.

At first, these tailgating scenes were torture. My family didn’t have a strong football-watching tradition growing up, and when I went to NFL games with my father in high school, we didn’t bring a grill with us. My father couldn’t justify doing all that preparation and cooking just for two people, and his reasoning was sound. But the smell of grills throughout the long walk to the stadium was like a siren song, leaving me feeling empty and jealous.

“Someday, I’ll have my own tailgate,” I told myself.

***

When the University of Miami announced its football team would be moving to the Miami Dolphins’ stadium for my junior year of college, I saw an opportunity.

While so many fellow Hurricanes fans were (justifiably) lamenting the loss of the historic Orange Bowl — hallowed grounds for so many moments in The U’s dynasty years, including a college-record 58 game home winning streak — I was focused on what surrounded the team’s new home. Namely, a sea of parking.

While driving to the OB was nearly impossible, driving to Dolphin Stadium (as it was called then) was nearly inevitable. Since I had a car and an off-campus house at the time of the move, I knew the time was right to fulfill my tailgating destiny. I bought a student parking pass, spread the word about the tailgates to my friends and got ready to grill out.

There was only one problem: while most tailgaters haul their wares on gameday in a Ford F-150, I had a meager Saturn SL-1. Fitting a grill, chairs, a table, food, drinks and condiments — plus 4 passengers — in my compact car was going to be a challenge.

Undeterred, I bought an accordion folding table, some canvas chairs and a camping grill. Then for the first Saturday home game, I packed the truck tightly. Real tightly.

There was so much ambiguity in my mind. Will everything fit? Did I get too much food? Will my friends even show up? Will the grill light properly? What if I undercook the burgers? Will I have enough time to pull this off and make it to the game? But ultimately, the tailgate was a success — so much so that the ensuing game was a blur.

***

I became addicted to tailgating that day, and it instantly became a regular staple of my football experience. Each week I would try and get more people to join in (and chip in). I grilled in the rain and the muggy Florida heat. On weeks where the Canes had an early kickoff, I pivoted to breakfast food.

The following season, I took my show on the road — grilling in a drive-through banking lane that had been converted into a parking lot Miami-Florida State showdown. And for one home game, I ran a tailgate party with my parents and 10 of my friends — a feat that left my father in awe.

But nothing lasts forever. After I totaled the Saturn in a highway wreck during my senior year, I was left without a vehicle for 2 weeks. A friend graciously helped me pull off the final tailgate of the year using her vehicle, but my tailgating days were done. I brought the grill and table with me to West Texas, but I only used them for cookouts at my apartment. When it came time to move to Dallas, the grill only made it as far as the dumpster.

***

As I reminisce my tailgating days, I’m filled more with pride than sadness. I’m proud because I lived a dream beyond my wildest imagination. I went from being seduced by the smell of smoke in the air to cooking out for up to a dozen people each week. Unlike most college students, I found my own tailgates to be my favorite parties.

But I accomplished so much more through these tailgates. For the first time in my life, I undertook the burden of true leadership. I also overcame countless obstacles and learned how to communicate with others productively. These traits have all come in handy as I’ve forged my path in adulthood.

So yes, my time organizing a weekly football tailgate has been my proudest accomplishment so far. After all, it’s been so much more than just grilling out.

The Branding of Us

I’ll never forget my first encounter with branding.

I was about 7 years old, plodding around the playground at recess in my Converse High Tops. But all I wanted was a pair of Nikes.

My shoes were comfortable. They were functional. And, in hindsight, they were hip!

(Plus, my mother probably saved a fortune on them at Marshall’s.)

But none of that mattered. My friends had Nikes. MJ sported Nikes. All I wanted were Nikes.

A few years later, I got my coveted pair of Nikes. And, aside from one pair of cross country running shoes, every pair of sneakers I’ve ever owned since then has either had a Swoosh or a Jumpman logo on it.

Branding is real.

***

I’ve harkened back to this playground scene a lot recently. It’s been getting more and more difficult for me to find Nike shoes that meet my fashion standards and fit my wide feet. And when I do, I end up paying a fortune for a product that frankly isn’t worth the extra money.

Yet, I keep coming back, as reliably as Pavlov’s dog.

Despite my knowing better, I’m loyal to Nike. It’s my look — and that makes it my only choice, for better or for worse. When the University of Miami switched apparel providers from Nike to Adidas in 2015, I quietly mourned the decision; I’ve since significantly cut back on the amount of t-shirts I’ve bought from my alma mater.

Nike is part of how I express myself. And — though it loathes me to admit this — Nike matters to me.

***

What keeps me coming back to the Swoosh? I could list any number of marketing psychology terms, but I’ll focus on one aspect — the narrative.

Stories are a powerful component of our lives, and branding is a key part of our personal stories — although not in the way corporate branding executives aim for. (Sorry Nike, I don’t think buying a pair of your cross-trainers will make me run like Usain Bolt.)

No, branding serves as a supporting actor in the feature production that is our lives. The styles we wear, the tech we buy and the food we eat at different points in the story — these are all impacted by branding. Either we’re loyal to certain brands or we’re consciously fighting the grip that a company name can have over our lives. In each case, brand influence is a factor in our personal brand.

***

And personal branding is significant. We are constantly sending a message — actively or passively, consciously or subconsciously. How that message is perceived can impact our destiny; this is why we try and take ownership of our own brand identity.

But where should we turn for inspiration when undertaking this task? I feel the best answer to that question is actually…companies like Nike.

You see, the impact of corporate brand influence on our lives is twofold. On one hand, it can embed itself in the story we tell. On another, it can provide us a reminder of which principles to master when crafting our personal brand.

Specifically, it can demonstrate how to build connections to our hopes and dreams. It can show us that how we act, how we dress, what we say and what we do can help us attain the life we desire — whether that be the job we dream of, the family we aspire to build or the circle of friends that we seek to maintain.

The foundation of the life we strive for might already be in existence. But until we take ownership of the narrative, our story is being written on autopilot.

***

It’s time to take control of the branding of us. Whether this means strengthening the connections we already have or breaking with them to build new ones, we must take the helm in writing the narrative of our lives.

We’re obligated to take on this task, because doing so can reap benefits for so many. A properly managed personal brand can help drive us forward, and positively impact those we come across. It can allow us to speak to our community in a way that truly resonates. It can help make the world a better place.

The branding of us is within our grasp. But it’s on us to make it happen.

An Exercise in Improvement

Exercise is one of the things I’m most passionate about.

I believe it’s important to devote oneself to it. That’s a key reason why I’ve worked out at least twice a week for the past three years.

Hitting the weight room. Working up a sweat on the treadmill. Walking for miles around the neighborhood on a sunny day — these are all irreplaceable components of my week, no matter if it’s January or July.

Vacations? Holidays? I’ll alter my workout schedule around them to make sure I stay in shape.

Exercise is that crucial to me. And I believe it should be to everyone.

Now, I’m aware of the that this statement might ruffle some feathers. Say the word “gym,” and images of testosterone-laden jocks come to mind. Or maybe the stigmas of appearance and body shaming that poison our society. These are not appealing mental images, and they shoo away people from a workout routine more effectively than garlic deters vampires.

But those are not the reasons why working out is a worthwhile endeavor. For the true benefits of exercise can be found on the inside.

There’s the physical side of things — getting your heart rate up, getting the blood flowing. I’m no doctor, but I know these processes can certainly be beneficial in the long run.

But just as important is the mental side of things. The commitment to a routine. The discipline and focus you must exhibit as a workout warrior. And the immense satisfaction upon completing what you set out to do.

Exercise provides a scenario where you’re in in control of your own improvement. But it provides so much more than that.

  • It provides an outlet. A productive opportunity to unload the mental pressures of stress, and to rectify the detrimental effects of sitting at a desk for hours on end.
  • It provides a rhythm. A pattern of coordinated motions that keeps your body and mind in sync.
  • It provides solace. An escape, a break — no matter what curveballs life throws your way, you can forget about it while working up a sweat.

These are benefits we need. Benefits we deserve.

I know this as well as anyone.

In the time since I started working out regularly, I’ve felt healthier than ever. But this feeling hasn’t come from how many miles I’ve run, or how much I’ve lifted. No, that rejuvenated feeling I carry with me has come from a renewed sense of balance. When times have been good, I have my workout to keep me grounded. When the road has been rough — such as the period after I was laid off of my previous job — exercise has served as a necessary distraction.

In fact, I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that I wouldn’t be who I am today without exercise.

So ignore the old standby about exercise being for a six-pack, or to fit into a certain size of jeans. Working out should be about the attributes we strive for — discipline, commitment, perseverance — and less about superficial distractions.

So get out there and get active. Your mind, body and soul stand to benefit.