Are we raising defenders?
Posted on 09. Apr, 2010 by Brett.
My friend Philip Cummings in Memphis tweeted an article this week that’s just been haunting me. It was about a teenage girl in Massachusetts who killed herself after being bullied at school. And when I started Googling around, the rabbit hole just got
Articles like this make me wonder. Did anybody stick up for these kids? Did anyone step in front of the bullies? Was there even one gritty 16-year old boy who took a stand?
Maybe I’m wrong, but I have to think not.
When I’m a Christian parent, I’ll teach my kids right and wrong, but I hope I also teach the other side of the Gospel—the side that values justice over passivity, steely resolve over blithe compliance, and action over inaction. I don’t want “polite, moral, and preppy” to be my child-rearing end-game.
“Defend the cause of the weak and fatherless; maintain the rights of the poor and oppressed.” – Ps. 82:3
I don’t know…maybe Christian parents care more about their kid being sweet and smart and athletic and popular than being a defender of the weak?
We’ve trained our boys to be polite and compliant. That’s well and good. But why are so few willing to “defend the cause of the weak and fatherless?” I guess that’s what happens when you teach kids about “conflict resolution” when what they really need is training in conflict engagement. “Resolution” is the language of flight; “engagement” is the language of rushing in.
I hope and pray some day that I have a son and that he feels as strongly about defending the weak as he does about sports or video games or moral issues. I hope I raise a boy who’s a football star; I really do. But more than that, I pray I raise a kid hellbent on justice and truth and taking a stand.
And maybe one day, as a skinny 15-year old, he’ll get suspended from school because he shut up the biggest, baddest bully on campus.
I think that’d be cool.
He’ll have a proud, teary-eyed dad waiting on him when he gets home. And we’ll load up the mini-van and take the whole family out to dinner to celebrate.
A future dad can dream can’t he?
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9 things I’d do if I started a new job tomorrow
Posted on 06. Apr, 2010 by Brett.
I have no intention of starting a new job anytime soon, but if I did, here are 9 things I’d start doing immediately:
1. Humble myself – Humility is such an endearing trait and underrated in the business world. Walk in every morning with an attitude that says, “It is a ridiculous privilege that they pay me to come to this building every day.” Oh, and humble does not = timid pushover.
2. Serve like crazy - Intentionally seek out the most inglorious tasks in the office, the things that suck and no one wants to do. The things that drive everyone crazy. Do those things.
3. Ask questions about work - I’d ask 25-50 work questions a day. Seriously. By doing this, I accelerate the learning process tenfold. Most will passively wait, hoping to absorb what they need. Blah. That’s only good for sponges and girls in tanning beds. The people around you are like old rusty treasure chests of knowledge. Get out a crow bar and go to work with tons of questions.
4. Ask questions about people – People fascinate me. They have interesting lives and colorful stories they’re dying to share. But no one ever asks. No one. Activate joy in your co-workers by asking questions about them, their families, and their interests.
5. Smile a lot - And while I was at it, I’d high-five, hug, and yell some too. Just try it.
6. Work late - I’d work a lot, and I’d work late. If you haven’t figured this out yet, successful people don’t get that way by working from 9 to 5. It doesn’t matter how many hours they’re paying you for! How many hours does it take to get the job done, and then some? I don’t worry about becoming a work-a-holic. I worry instead about farting away my free time on fun, meaningless things. Of course, there has to be balance and I don’t ever want to neglect my family and friends. I’d invest lots (not all) of my free time back into my trade.
7. Tell my boss that my job is to make him rich – Not every day. But tell him this once. Mean it, and then go do it.
8. Subscribe to 10 blogs – If I hadn’t already done it, I’d subscribe to a blog reader like this one. Then I’d search for the top ten blogs in my field. Who are the top bloggers on commercial real estate, or accounting, or human resources? I’d subscribe to all those blogs and read them every day, first thing in the morning.
9. Follow 10 new people on Twitter – Like #8, I’d track down the top people in my new field on Twitter (trust me, they’re on there). I’d follow them. I’d watch who else they talk to. I’d read the links they post. I might even reach out to them and ask if they’d mentor me for 15 minutes a week via Skype. Yes it will feel awkward, and yes you should do it anyway.
What else would you do if you started a job tomorrow?
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Chapter to Porch: A fraternity lesson
Posted on 31. Mar, 2010 by Brett.
I’ve written on this blog several times about my college fraternity experience. We weren’t the beer-can-crunchers like you see in movies. We worked really really hard to build a great organization. And we won some big awards.
I could write a book on all the lessons I learned during those years, but there is one that still burns bright five years after graduation.
Every Sunday night 80 men would cram into a musty fraternity house. Sitting on grimy couches and surrounded by old trophies and composite pictures, we’d debate, often late into the night. Everyone was passionate and everyone had an opinion.
Do we give this jerk kid a bid just because his dad is an alum? Do we kick this guy out for underage drinking? Who should be the next president?
80 brains alive, picking apart every rhetorical angle of the debate. Oh, the debate! Loud debate! If a stranger walked into the room, they’d think we were the icons of dysfunction.
BUT…
I was always amazed how guys could go from combatants to buddies once the meeting ended. In the 30 second walk from chapter room to front porch, a miraculous transformation would take place. Frat-battle-royale would melt away and take a backseat to the friendships that held the organization together. Guys would separate the issue from the person. Guys would remember that the brotherhood was greater than the business being discussed. Guys would properly balance the good of the organization and the value of that individual. Guys would demand fraternal excellence while not forgetting personal grace.
And this is unusual in organizations.
Why?
Because most people are thin-skinned and can’t handle conflict; they run from the tension. People storm out of the room, give the silent treatment or barricade themselves in their office and get drunk off Solitaire. The organization can’t handle it, and conflict goes extinct because no one likes living in a battle zone. Peace is easier and mediocrity sets in.
Growth is hard. Success is a painful process, and it always requires struggle. If you want to build a great organization, build a culture where it’s okay to be passionate, and it’s okay to disagree. And require it to be done on a trellis of respect. That demands strong leadership.
Leaders walk in that zone between the chapter room and the porch where people fight for the organization but temper that fight with love for one another.
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Dads
Posted on 25. Mar, 2010 by Brett.
I talked to a dad this week who has a couple of young daughters.
He told me he tells them three things about a dozen times every single day…
- You’re beautiful.
- You’re daddy’s girl.
- Mommy, daddy, and Jesus love you.
He speaks to appearance, identity, and worth…
Every.
Single.
Day.
A daddy’s words are like hot bullets. And bullets always do damage. Just depends on which direction the gun is aimed.
Daily, my friend puts a couple dozen bullets in the foreheads of those unseen forces–cultural and spiritual–that are racing towards his little girls.
Every dad’s a bodyguard or an assassin…not really a middle ground.
Just thought you needed to hear that.
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New features at TRAPPSTR.com
Posted on 22. Mar, 2010 by Brett.
TRAPPSTR.com has been updated! Several new features I think you’re going to love though most are pretty basic. Here they are:
- Home page layout – Instead of showing the full post, it now just shows “stubs” from recent posts
- Search feature (sidebar) – If there’s an old post you like, now you can find it
- Archives (sidebar) – grouped by month
- Recent comments (sidebar) – See the last 5 people who commented on a post
- Top commenters (sidebar) – We love comments here at TRAPPSTR! Now you can see a leaderboard of most frequent commenters. Great job Rachel :)
- New contact form – Click on the contact link at top and now you can message me directly from your browser so you don’t have to go to the hassle of drafting an email
- Star rating system – At the bottom of every post, you’ll see 10 stars. If you love a post, give it 10 stars. If it sucks, give it less. Pretty simple. But it’s important because otherwise, I have no idea how the post is received.
- As always – Retweet button, email the post button, and subscribe via email buttons have been moved a bit but still there
- COMING SOON – Working on a slider, fixed at the top of the homepage, that shows 10 featured posts. Designed for a first time reader as a way to highlight the most popular content without having to dig through archives.
SO….I need your help!
- What do you think of the new features? What else would you like to see?
- What are the most memorable/significant posts? I’m trying to narrow down that list of featured content and would love your thoughts!
As always, I’m honored that you’d spend a little time here. Please let me know how I can improve. Make it a great week!
–Brett
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$50 Bee stings
Posted on 16. Mar, 2010 by Brett.
I’ve been stung a few times recently. Not literally. But stung by constructive criticism. And I don’t call it constructive “feedback.” Feedback soothes; criticism stings. Feedback nibbles; criticism bites. It’s painful. It reaches down into my comfort zone with a jumbo-sized blender and cranks that sucker up to frappe.
And I hate it. With everything in me. I crave compliments and affirmation. I run towards attaboys and people who like me and make me feel valuable. A fallen world makes me needy. Nothing makes my soul squirm like when someone calls me out and puts me in my place.
Constructive criticism hurts.
Like a bee sting.
What if, everytime you got stung by a bee, the bee gods deposited $50 into your checking account? Might that change your mind on bee stings? Probably. Would it remove the sting? Would the sting hurt any less? No. But the value would outweight the pain. And you might not mind so much. In fact, you might seek out more bees.
That’s what constructive criticism is like. Hurts like crazy; helps like crazy.
I’m convinced the very thing holding most people back is that they’ve built a fortress of insecurity around them, insulating themselves from constructive criticizers. Insulating themselves from $50 bee stings. They could be filthy rich, but years of running from bees has left them dirt poor. I’m learning that the “rich” among us–leaders, world changers, remarkable creatives–are those that run towards the hive. You’ll get stung, but that’s where all the honey is.
(See also Prov 27:6)
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What I do for a living
Posted on 03. Mar, 2010 by Brett.
Every now and then a reader of this blog will ask, “What exactly do you do?” Though I do make a small fortune off this blog–and by “a small fortune” I mean nothing–I still have a day job.
I took a job with a new startup company when I graduated college in 2005, and I’ve been there ever since. The name of the company is Booster. I was attracted to Booster because of the entrepreneurial feel and the integrity of the people involved. We do several different things but our primary offering is the Boosterthon Fun Run. The Boosterthon is a fitness and character-based fundraising program for schools. The founder of our company, Chris Carneal, and his wife, Lyndie, had the idea when they were in college at Samford University.
Booster helps transition schools away from “sales-y” fundraisers–gift wrap, cookie dough, candles, whatever. The Boosterthon is pledge-based, so that means there’s nothing to sell. And the best part is that we bring an enthusiastic team to campus to organize the whole thing and also teach students about fitness and character. That’s what I did for four years–leading a team, working on campus, and walking the halls of schools all over the south (130,000 miles on my car in three years!).
I’ve moved three times with Booster (Birmingham>Nashville>Atlanta). I landed in Atlanta in June, 2009, and have settled into a new role in our home office. My title is Lead Innovator, but my main role is brand manager where I help craft and tell Booster’s story. I also stay busy with lots and lots of project management–web, print, theme, and events.
When I first started, we served just a handful of schools. This year we’ll work with 250,000 students. It’s been fun to see that growth happen in the last five years. That growth has come directly from a strong company culture and ridiculous commitment to making Raving Fans of our clients. My love for business now (and inspiration for much of this blog) comes directly from hands-on experience with Booster. I love what I do and am excited about the direction we are headed. At our core we are a leadership development company, and we’re going to be rolling out some awesome new stuff in the next 6-18 months.
I genuinely feel like I work for the greatest company in the world, and I’m surrounded by leaders who demand integrity, draw out enthusiasm, inspire leadership, and require results. Every time our leadership team meets, I feel like the least talented person in the room. And I’m okay with that–usually, haha.
So that’s me. What about you? If you read this blog and we’ve never met, why don’t you shoot me a quick email telling me about yourself. I’d love to connect. (iamtrappstr@gmail.com)
Cheers.
-Brett
P.S. This is my personal blog, and the views, opinions, and ideas I share here are not necessarily reflective of Booster.
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Haiti Trip Final Update: A fistful of onions and a waterproof tent
Posted on 25. Feb, 2010 by Brett.
Our last day in Haiti we made the trek into downtown Port-au-Prince. Our hotel was on the edge of the city in Petionville, so this was our first time inside the epicenter of the damage zone.
The little damage we had seen on the outskirts multiplied tenfold in the city. The destruction was unfathomable. Imagine shoving a three story building into a giant paper shredder. That’s what the buildings look like. Imagine shaking, so violent that it dissolves homes and businesses into mini-mountains of rock and metal and plastic. People wander through smoldering piles of trash in the streets and brown water gushes from busted water mains.
We drove through blocks of destruction. The street blocks turned into miles. It seemed like everyone was on the streets. Everyone. But no one was resting. Everyone was busy heading in one direction or the other. People were selling or bartering anything they could find. One street vendor was selling metal scraps. Another was selling electrical components, strips of dirty wires with frayed ends. Food seemed plentiful. Of course it all comes with a price, which is a problem for most Haitians now.
From my window I saw food vendors of all kinds, but then something caught my eye. A little girl. Maybe seven years old, dusty and wearing what could only be described as rags. She is squatting on the sidewalk, amongst the older women selling food. In her left hand is a fistful of onions. Not the pretty fat round onions you buy at the grocery store in America. These are puny onions, pulled out of the ground. The long green tops are still attached but drooping, wilted from the heat. She sits alone. Maybe her mom is around. Maybe she died in the earthquake and this is all she has, a feeble hope to make a little money selling dirty onions. The light turned green, and we drove away.
God works in my life in themes–times when He gently kneads together Scripture and real life experiences. I’ve lived themes of OBEDIENCE. And themes of GRACE. For the last six months, this has been my theme:
“Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.” – James 1:27 NIV
How much “looking after orphans and widows” have I done in my 10,324 days on this earth? Truth be told, I’ve spent more time sniff-testing deodorants in the aisles of Wal-Mart.
And that’s not right.
At all.
I’ve thought a lot about what to do when the destruction is so vast, when the damage is so deep, and when the bad is so big. I admit; it overwhelms me. But I can do something. I can pray, and I can give.
This trip wasn’t about some touristy Haitian adventure with my buddies. If it doesn’t result in some good being done, then it was a waste of my time and money.
So here’s the deal. The rainy season begins in Haiti in 3 days. That means countless people–little babies to frail grandmothers–living in bedsheet cities will get soaked. Imagine having no job, no reliable source of food and living in a ramshackle shanty that gets flooded every night with rivers of mud. That’s the reality.
Aid agencies are working to build permanent dwellings, but it isn’t fast enough. The rains are coming. Thankfully, someone is doing something now. Courageous Church here in Atlanta has set up a website called A Home in Haiti . Go there and you can buy a tent for a homeless family or you can donate any amount of money which will help purchase waterproof tents. This is an urgent need, friends. I’ve seen it myself. My estimate was that only about 10-20% of the people were actually living in a waterproof tent. Everyone else was living in homes made of garbage.
I want to challenge every single person reading this to go give something. And would you do us a favor? Post a comment and let us know you gave. Or you can just shoot me an email.
Thanks for following along on this journey. Let’s make a difference.
www.AHomeinHaiti.org
P.S. I uploaded some pictures from our trip. You can see them by clicking HERE.
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Haiti Update 2: Handing out supplies in a bedsheet city
Posted on 22. Feb, 2010 by Brett.
One of our guys, Matt, came to Haiti several times in high school and has a friend here, Bienami, who runs two orphanages and a medical clinic. We jumped in his jeep and headed to his orphanages, both completely destroyed in the quake. We got off the main roads and onto gravel streets where cinder block walls had tipped and spilled into the roads. Walls are everywhere in Haiti. High walls. After awhile we came to a dead end. He stopped, looked at us and said, “This is where I was.” We knew what he meant.
We got out, hopped over a broken metal gate and into a courtyard. We stared at a boys’ orphanage and a girls’ orphanage, both leveled. Massive grey concrete slabs—the roofs—crunched up and sloping towards the ground. One of Bienami’s friends grabbed a broom and knocked a papaya out of a tree. Behind him, Bienami’s truck sat, crushed and permanently entombed in the garage. He was in the girls’ orphanage with 30 children when the quake hit. He felt the shaking and said that God told him to shout, “Everybody out!”. The roof collapsed, but miraculously everyone survived. Only two children had minor injuries.
After we left we told Bienami we needed to find a place to distribute some of our supplies. Our company, Booster, donated some shirts, small backpacks, and some flashlights. Bienami knew right where to go. We found a very small bedsheet city (different from a tent city) of about 100 people. Bienami hopped out first. We knew we needed him to help us get organized, because gun-slinging relief supplies can turn into total chaos. As soon as we stepped out of the car, we were swarmed. Little kids, teenagers, and grandmas—desperate hands tugging and tapping on your shoulders to your ankles. Lots of yelling. My heart rate picked up a bit. Somebody barked out some orders in Creole, and everyone hurried back into the camp where we set up our distribution spot. Bienami pushed through the crowd, leaned in and said, “They want to know if you have anything for a newborn baby.” My heart sank.
I made trips back and forth from the Jeep as we continued to hand out supplies. Anyone could have opened the back of that car, grabbed our boxes and gotten away. Never happened. I was amazed at the politeness of the people. Even as they were pressing in for help, they weren’t overly aggressive, just desperate. And there’s a difference between desperate and aggressive. Not one time was I pushed or shoved. I never felt threatened. No one got angry when we ran out of supplies. And we ran out, quickly. It’s a terrible feeling to give out that last item. We pushed through the crowd towards the Jeep. They followed us. Bienami cranked the car and we slowly pulled away.
Down the road I asked Bienami if he was ever scared. He laughed and said no.
“They are very desperate people,” he said. “They just knew this might be their only chance to get something.”
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Haiti day one update
Posted on 20. Feb, 2010 by Brett.
I’m sitting in a little dining room on the 2nd floor of the Hotel Paradis in Petionville, Haiti. One of the few hotels unaffected by the earthquake and home to tons of aid workers. It’s a sunny, warm day here. There is a door open to a little courtyard area and a balcony. A breeze is blowing in and a rooster just crowed. An aid worker who helps orphanages is sitting on the balcony, on her laptop, and listening to Tim McGraw’s “Live Like you Were Dying.” In the distance you can hear the sound of hammers and electric saws.
We crossed the Haitian border last night around 6pm after 28 hours of travel from Atlanta. 7 hours earlier we had jumped on a little rental bus with a group of 12 Mormon men from Idaho at the airport in Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic. We wove through downtown Santo Domingo where locals walk through the middle of the streets selling everything from roasted corn to large colorful posters showing multiplication tables. We eventually got out of the city and into the countryside.
DR is a semi-tropical paradise with ridiculous agriculture. We passed massive banana groves and vast red fields dotted with women picking tomatoes. And there were fields of some plant that we all swore was marijuana (but were assured it wasn’t). Street vendors sold their produce—bananas, tomatoes, plantains, onions, oranges, tangerines. We stopped off for food at a little market in a mountain town. Everyone got a kick out of the guy in the bathroom, standing at a urinal, holding a rooster. I saw him later in the market. He was proud of that bird.
The drive into Haiti was long (about 18 hours) and uncomfortable (18 people and way too much luggage for a bus not built to hold such), but it was fascinating. We had several kids come up to our windows waving and rubbing their bellies. We saw a little boy walking down a dusty road holding a line of fish he had caught. We saw lots of goats and pigs, big pigs. Pigs-like-hippos-pigs.
We finally crossed into Haiti. Lots of activity at the border—guys with guns, street vendors. Never realized that the vast majority of Haiti was untouched by the earthquake. After an hour or so we got to the border of Port-au-prince where the damage really started. It was dusk, but the streets were absolutely packed with people. Didn’t seem like anyone was in their homes. I was told that was partially a cultural thing and partially due to the fact people are terrified of another earthquake. Commerce is definitely alive and well on the streets. This is a country full of entrepreneurs. Once the dark had fully set in, I remember seeing an old lady—probably 65—sitting on the sidewalk with a small table of things to sell. There was one lone candle, pencil-thin, sitting in the middle of the table. This was her world.
We finally made it to the LDS church in Petionville where our Mormon friends were staying. We weren’t exactly sure where our hotel was so I summoned the help of the Twitter-verse which, of course, came through with flying colors (thank you @Weddressproject, Kyle, Brad, Anna, Ben, Michael, and Rachel). We found a lady at the church who said she knew that address and that she’d take us. 30 minutes later her friend arrived who she said would take us. He wanted $30 to drive us 15 minutes. I offered $25. He said $30. Deal. (#bargainingfail). Well, that 15 minute drive in a rickety Honda Civic turned into 30 minute fiasco through the darkened streets of Petionville. We stopped and got gas. We stopped and asked for directions. Twice. On the lost scale, I’d say we were an easy 7.5. Our driver didn’t speak English so we couldn’t communicate anything to him. Of course, this would be the same time that my cell phone died. So here we were, 3 white guys and an African American driving through the ghostly streets of Haiti with a total stranger and no contact with the outside world—redefining youthful American naivety, haha. But God knew where we were, and we made it safely to our hotel. Our friend Chris was there to meet us. I was a bit relieved (#hugeunderstatement).
Got some much needed sleep last night. Heading out into Port-au-Prince in a few minutes. Not sure what to expect. Thanks for your prayers so far, guys. Please keep sending them our way. I’ll update as much as possible. Love you all.
Brett
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