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Tuesday, October 8, 2019

Are You Coachable?


Today I saw a quote that circulates on Facebook every now and then. Maybe you've seen it.

It goes like this:

UNCOACHABLE KIDS BECOME UNEMPLOYABLE ADULTS. 

While that sounds great in theory, I'm not 100% sure that it's accurate. I mean, I think that we've all worked with a few uncoachable adults . . . so obviously, they can get a job . . . they just make the rest of us miserable.

Someone told me once that "it is very difficult having a coach for a mom." Now that . . . that I have to agree with and I have to own it. And my kids would probably give that statement a resounding amen.

But here is the thing, one of the greatest compliments I've received about one of my kids is that they are coachable . . . and I have heard that about each of them.

Now listen, my kids ARE coachable . . . you don't grow up with a coach for a mother and survive without learning to be coachable. Our entire parenting approach is more coaching than anything else.

At 18 years old, Ken Levine, who is an owner/operator for McDonald's said something to me that totally rocked my 18 year old self. He said, "Sherry, the crew and other managers will copy what you do wrong almost 100% of the time and they will do it twice as well. On the other hand, they will only copy what you do right 50% of the time and they will do that only half as well." 

That stuck.

It not only stuck but it put even more pressure on a young adult with an undiagnosed anxiety disorder. Thanks Ken. Thanks a lot.

But here is the thing . . . it didn't just stick and put pressure on me. It became a core value in my life. I determined to be the best version of me . . . way before "being the best version of yourself" was the cool saying it is today. There was no way I wanted to be responsible for anyone doing what I did wrong twice as well.

Before I go any further . . . Do. Not. Start. With. Me. At 50 years old, I know damn well that back then, I took it to an unhealthy place and I know damn well that I am not responsible for the choices other people make.

But here is the point, I made a full-on commitment to continued professional and personal growth because I wanted to be a healthy (not perfect!) example of a parent, a spouse, a leader and a friend.

As I began to surround myself with individuals I could learn from, I had to learn that no one can coach you in all areas of your life . . .

I have a fundraising coach that I hired and at first paid for out of my own pocket . . . while I was a volunteer Executive Director. Yes, I paid for my own professional development as a volunteer. I have a spiritual dad that is only a phone call away. I have a friend that is a business owner and has served on several nonprofit boards . . . we meet for lunch from time to time. We eat sushi and I pick his brain.

I know someone that has worked in nonprofits most of his adult life. I talk to him probably only once a year. Each time he kicks my butt, accepts no excuses from me but at the same time, he always reminds me that I have the skill set to be successful. I have a close friend that works in law enforcement and when I want blunt, nothing held back, advice . . . I call him.

Listen, I won't ask my fundraising coach to guide me spiritually. I won't ask my once-a-year-call coach for advice on parenting. I won't seek out my spiritual dad when I need to brainstorm new fundraising ideas. I'm not going to ask my police chief friend for advice on leading a devotional. And I'm not going to ask my business owner friend for advice on security at my nonprofit.

But I have chosen to be coachable and each of these men wear a coach hat in my life. Each of these men make me better.

Who is wearing a coach hat in your life? What example are you setting to your kids? Do they see a coachable parent . . . or one that thinks they don't need to be coached?

Coachable adults raise coachable kids. Period.





Wednesday, October 2, 2019

What the . . .

Do you ever have those "what the . . . ?" weeks? You know what I mean? Those weeks that everything is crazy, nothing is going right, and you just shake your head when what you really want to do is shake a few people and scream "What are you thinking? What the hell is wrong with you??" 

It's been one of those weeks but I haven't shaken anyone . . . not even the roofer, so we're good.

On Monday, as I was standing in the rain with three kids and a freakin dog . . . three kids and a dog that I had just raced out of the house with after being given a 30 minute notice to tidy my house and get out for a showing, I thought this is as bad as this week will be. I mean, I was thinking . . . seriously, if this is the worse thing that happens this week then it's gonna be an amazing week. I gave myself a big pep talked and rocked on.

Then Tuesday happened . . well, Tuesday was worse than Monday.

Then today . . .

Today was a doctor's appt. Not just a doctor's appt. A girl doctor's appt. Fun times.

Ten years ago, after a year and a half of being shuffled from doctor to doctor while in severe pain, a Hershey Med doctor quickly diagnosed my issue, performed surgery and gave me back my quality of life. So while my current Primary Provider is a UPMC Pinnacle doctor, I see the specialists at Hershey.

Now Hershey Med is a training hospital. So I know that it is not uncommon for students to be in the exam or operating room or "practicing" on you. Today, my nurse says, "Your doctor will be right in and she does have a student with her today." Okay. No. Big. Deal.

Then I hear this quiet but masculine voice, "Miss Webb, can I come in?" In walks this super adorable kid about the age of my sons. He begins to ask me questions . . . it's awkward . . . although he tries so hard to make it not awkward . . . which honestly made it more awkward. He asks me a few questions and tries to show his knowledge while I'm thinking "oh hunny, no that's not the way that works." He gets ready to leave the room and tells me he will be back with my doctor.

This gives me time to text my friend . . . who somehow finds my traumatic situation quite comical. I've got the emojis to prove it.

The doctor takes her time with the student to give him a good experience without traumatizing me too much. Listen, I'm still not over the student that could not put in my IV . . . and had to be stopped by my mild-mannered bestie, before I passed out. That student probably decided not to be a doctor after an interaction like that.

But today the student survived . . . and I survived . . . and I was reminded of two very important life lessons . . .

#1 The week can always get worse . . . always.

#2 You've got to be able to laugh at your life and at yourself. Really, you do. You can find the humor in almost any sucky day or awkward situation. When you learn to laugh at yourself, you've learned a total game changer. Don't take yourself or your life too seriously. Just laugh.

Now if you're like me and sometimes you struggle to laugh when everything is going wrong, I'll introduce you to my friend. She laugh at you  . . . I mean for you. ;)