Rise up a genuine leader Who is driven by moral character and integrity Who commits to truth and responsibility Who models personal discipline and accountability Who earns respect by giving it Who is humble in self-imperfections and gracious in others’ Who nurtures trust and collaboration
Rise up a genuine leader Who is we-oriented, not me-oriented Who articulates vision with clarity and infuses pride in purpose Who disables barriers to people development Who confronts social ills with positive solutions Who seeks understanding and resolutions in contentions Who fosters creativity and inspires hope
Rise up a genuine leader Who can undo chaos and create order Who is composed instead of clamorous Who promotes diversity of viewpoints in unity of purpose Who invests in people and worthy dreams Who is transparent, trustworthy, and teachable Who upholds faith in a better future and spurs actions toward it
Rise up a genuine leader Who values people and ideas over profit Who knows virtue sustains character, but its absence destroys it Who is considerate instead of caustic Who brings competence with candor Who discerns realities with compassion and directs resolutions with care Who influences people to mutually elevate lives, institutions, and ideals.
Rise up a genuine leader Who is attentive to needs of the people and builds their spirit Who overcomes personal ego, arrogance, and unethical behavior Who rejects conflict mongering Who is consistent and persistent in value-added contributions Who equips and empowers other leaders Who builds an enduring legacy of transformational results
Last year, I participated in a provoking thought exercise with my counterparts from other states. We attempted to develop an alternate term for “recreation and parks.”
Schuylkill River Trail. credit: Visit Philadelphia
Because recreation and parks means something different to practically every person, and carries unwanted baggage of being regarded as trivial, even laughable, and less worthy than more “important” things, we wanted to explore what single term could encompass all its comprehensive benefits.
Eleanor Warmack, CEO of the Florida Recreation and Park Association, declares, “If our industry was a corporation, we would have rebranded ourselves 20 times by now. This profession has evolved—we cannot keep using terminology from 100 years ago to limit what the public thinks of our value, nor to allow our profession to be defined by three words.”
In the book The Blue Zones of Happiness, author Dan Buettner cites research from 141 countries to distill what contributes most to life satisfaction all over the world, and offers practical lessons to making happiness a personal lifestyle.
It’s fairly easy to be happy in any particular moment, of course. The challenge is to sustain an ongoing pursuit of what he calls the three P’s—purpose, pleasure, and pride—the universal keys to life fulfillment, regardless of culture or personality. And while personal discipline can go only so far, Buettner advocates “for strategies that make changes to our surroundings…that constantly nudge us into doing the right things so we don’t have to remember them on our own.”
Our governments, communities, and workplaces; our social networks, homes, and finances; and even our inner lives can be “happier by design,” he asserts. Each of his designing blueprints for happiness enumerates specific action steps for advancing our personal and collective purpose, pleasure, and pride.
In the book’s foreword, Ed Diener summarizes, “We now know that happiness is an essential part of functioning well, and that it gives a boost in well-being not only to individuals, but also to those around them, their communities, and their societies. Rather than being a luxury to be pursued only after we take care of the more important things in life, happiness is beneficial to everything else we desire: It aids our health and helps us live longer; it aids our social functioning and makes us better citizens; it helps us perform better at work; and it builds up our resilience, which enables us to bounce back after setbacks or when bad events occur in our lives. The happier we are, the better we are for our friends and family, our workplaces, our communities, and our society as a whole.”
Doesn’t this passage sound like what we strive for in providing recreation and park services?
Now back to the rebranding term for recreation and parks.
Our creative thought exercise was tough. We identified what we wanted the new phrase to embody. We noted that some park and recreation agencies are transitioning to alternate terms, like the Community Enrichment Department in St. Petersburg, Florida. We tried out new phrases. We even enlisted ChatGPT to invent a new word, which came up with such disastrous results as “recrarks,” “culturisure,” “leisureplex,” and “communivital.” Our discussion was quite stimulating, but so far, we’ve failed to invent anything that conveys so much so concisely.
But—doesn’t the above description of happiness come so very close? There might be a case for it. After all, its pursuit is singled out as an important tenet in one of our nation’s founding documents. And as everyone knows, it’s one of the inalienable rights of “We the People!”
What do you think? All comments and suggestions are welcome!
I’ve discovered peace is not the absence of conflict, but a condition of my spirit.
atop Steptoe Butte, Idaho, a thousand feet above the rolling hills of the Palouse area
It’s been a quick trip to the view from here. The climb’s not been easy, nor predictable. But here I stand amazed, a “senior.”
I’ve traded time for experience, and mistakes for learning. I’ve gained strength, but lost endurance. I’ve won wisdom, but lost patience. I’ve raised hope in discouragement, and grown grit from defeat.
I’ve found that storms may cross my paths, But don’t determine them.
I’ve seen tolerance harden to intolerance, And pride swell to arrogance. I’ve seen hate multiply and evil strut. But I’ve watched kindness repulse anger, Character rise undaunted, And virtue stand uncowed.
I’ve lost money, but invested in family. I’ve cried in sorrow and grieved in pain, yet laughed again. I’ve been mistreated, ordeal-sharpened, and test-refined. I’ve played and fought, joked and argued, lost and won. I’ve screamed, offended; and apologized, repentant.
I’ve added girth, assembled wrinkles, And grew perspective. I’ve failed repeatedly, But fewer than my tries. I’ve wrestled with my tongue and temper, And learned to carry more tunes than grudges.
I’ve discovered peace is not the absence of conflict, But a condition of my spirit.
I’ve known sicknesses, but not all. I’ve enjoyed health, but not always. I’ve prospered in relationships, but also in regrets. I’ve seen a lot, been through a lot, and loved a lot.
This privileged, age-afforded vista, From this spot on not-quite-over-the-hill, Reveals a journey far from perfect, Yet a scuffle worth a life invested. It satisfies my seasoned eyes, my slowing body, An agile mind, and a grateful heart.
Agonizing childhood Christmas tradition develops character
When I was a little kid, it was a time-honored tradition in my church that all the children of the Sunday School classes would “Say Pieces” at Christmastime and Easter.
Such were the agonizing times of Kid-dom. Whether it was memorizing and reciting a scripture verse or short poem, or playing an instrument, singing a song, or even performing a bit of drama, it was a stressful time on Center Stage.
Not that it was a big one. But that didn’t matter. It was all the mandatory preparation and the grown-ups’ stern warnings about getting it right in front of everybody. It was a big deal.
… Not that I can remember any piece of any of the Pieces I ever recited…
But many of them were quite similar to the now well-known declaration of Buddy the Elf: “The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear!” You know, when you’re a little impressionable kid, that’s really a huge pile of words to get just right.
I do, however, remember how we got to dress in plaid bathrobes to play Shepherds Abiding in the Fields. And how, one Eastertime, my cousin wore his green plastic army helmet to play a Roman soldier.
The annual production spared no one. Even the really little kids, the ones who were too little to even know what was going on, were sent out there. This cherished image is of my little sister Ann and her friend Jimmy, who paraded holding hands all the way from the staging area behind the upright piano to the platform, faced the audience with the signs hung around their little cherubic necks, then returned to wild acclaim.
Our individual and collective behaviors solicited both pride and embarrassment in our parents. For our grandparents and all the other old people, the spectacle was highly entertaining.
Afterwards, back in the classroom, we’d be rewarded with a small box of mixed chocolates and an orange from our Teacher: Presents! Next up: the real deal with Santa at home—yeah!
Despite all the trauma however, the ordeal developed character—not that we cared. But it did force us into such real out-of-the-comfort-zone growth experiences as public speaking, addressing an audience of peers and authority figures, overcoming fears and nervousness, exercising brain power, learning new information and how “practice makes perfect.”
I also remember how one little girl learned the power of a bribe. (Or shall I say “incentivized reward.”) All through the rehearsals, she refused to go on stage. But then her mother discovered just the right enticement in the promise of a special lollipop. (Did she bring some for all of us?) When it came to it, the girl delivered forthrightly, then ran directly to claim her reward from Mom hiding behind the piano.
After all these years, I’ve come to value sharing My Piece. It’s proclaimed a little differently now, and disseminated on a blog in a way no one could have imagined so long ago. Yet the sharing of our thoughts, concepts, ideas and ideals in a public forum remains a noble and cherished cause of personal expression and communal liberty.
So I now choose to share with you one of my favorite Pieces this Christmastime. It was written by the Nobel Prize winner of Literature in 1928, Sigrid Undset:
And when we give each other Christmas gifts in His name, let us remember that He has given us the sun and the moon and the stars, and the earth with its forests and mountains and oceans—and all that lives and moves upon them. He has given us all green things and everything that blossoms and bears fruit and all that we quarrel about and all that we have misused—and to save us from our foolishness, from all our sins, He came down to earth and gave us Himself.
And as Ann and Jimmy so endearingly express: Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
