James T. Robilotta

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The confidence to begin

February 19, 2019 by James Robilotta Leave a Comment

7 years ago I allowed myself to say out loud for the first time, and believe it, “I am good enough to pursue my goal of being a professional speaker.”⁣

See, 7 years ago was the day after the first speech I ever gave where I walked off the campus and thought – “I think those students were really with me. I think they were grateful I was there. I did not waste their time, on the contrary, I think I was actually worth their time!” ⁣

Before then I was pretty sure I was just conning the system and people were going to find out any minute. Who was I to be speaking to these students? I didn’t lose my leg in ‘Nam, I never drunk drove and killed anyone, I never overcame some huge obstacle or navigated an upbringing where I didn’t know when and where my next meal was coming from. No, I was just a privileged white boy who cried a lot when he was homesick his first-year of college, and was now telling jokes about that experience. ⁣

But on February of 2012, at Florida International University those students unknowingly breathed confidence into my sails. The jokes hit which in turn let the hard takeaways stick. They asked great questions and told me their stories. I was doing it, it was working, I was good enough. ⁣

I needed that speech. Maybe even more than then the students did. I’m still friends with many of the students that were there that day. I will forever be grateful to Franklin McCune and the Golden Panthers for validating that I was on the right path. Thank you.

Filed Under: Authentic Leadership, Push The Bird, Robo Thought, Student Affairs, Student Leadership

The Second Coming of Elphaba

February 12, 2019 by James Robilotta Leave a Comment

I went to Iceland in January because I wanted to see the aurora borealis. Unfortunately for me, the first night it was very cloudy and snowing, and on the second night there was a full moon – one of the archenemies for seekers of the northern lights. ⁣

Knowing I could still potentially capture some cool shots, I bundled up and headed out anyway. I had heard about this natural hot spring at the end of a road that was open 24/7 and the entrance fee was on the honor system, so I put that into my GPS and crunched my way out to my valiant Kia. After driving 45 minutes I arrived at a blocked road about a mile and a half from my destination. Cool. ⁣

I turned around and passed this small house with all of its lights on. It’s always intriguing to see life miles from other life. So I decided to stop, hop out, and capture the frame I saw. This is the 30 sec. exposure I took.⁣

Here’s the catch… I saw NO green with my naked eye. So what that means is that my camera saw the northern lights before I did… WTF. Despite that, this is one of my favorite photos I have ever taken. I’m thinking of titling it, “The Second Coming of Elphaba.”⁣

There are probably some cool takeaways here about how, “life is more than what meets the eye,” or some shit about hope. But I just love this photo and I am proud of it – so that’ll do for today.⁣

Filed Under: Authentic Leadership, Push The Bird, Robo Thought

Curiosity, wanderlust, and beautiful fuzzy horses

February 5, 2019 by James Robilotta Leave a Comment

The only major regret I have from college was that I never studied abroad. I missed out on the experience of living with a host family and getting to know them, experiencing daily life in another culture, learning their values, and hearing their stories. That is why today when I travel internationally I try to stay in Air BnBs. 

When was in Sauðárkrókur, Iceland, I stayed with a family for a few nights. When I first got there I took off my boots, they made me a hot tea, we leaned on the wooden counters, and got to know each other a little. They wanted to know why I decided to come to Iceland in January, and on top of that, decided to rent a car and drive 4 hours in the snowy darkness to their town. 

I learned that they were both musicians and had two sons: one that was away at high school and the other who was trying to “find himself” post-graduation by playing video games in his room. We did not talk too long, but before I went to bed they offered to cook me a traditional Icelandic meal the next night, if I was interested. I was interested. 

The next night over delicious cod and buttery potatoes they told me about their life. She was born on the east coast of Iceland and he in the north. He was in a band that played all over the country and they met when he played a show by her hometown. After falling in love, he convinced her to move to rural Sweden. They got a dog and a first kid, but when they decided they wanted to move back to Iceland they learned they could only bring one of them. Turns out you are not allowed to bring any animals to Iceland. So they decided to stay in Sweden for a few more years until the dog passed and son number two showed up. 

They were entrepreneurs, she more grounded than he. But she believed in her dreamer/artist husband, so they kept creating life and opportunities together. The Air BnB is his current project; he wants to make the small farm they live on an interactive experience for guests. Pictured are some of their iconic Iceland horses. 

As we talked their eyes became watery both from laughter and from reminiscing about their love and life. Hearing their stories reminded me yet again that you can do this thing called life however you want; so just do you and make it worth your time. 

It also reminded me that the person next to you is fascinating. What could you ask them to spark a story that fills them with emotion while they tell it? How, in one question, could you subconsciously remind them that their time here has not been wasted? 

After all, that’s all most of us need to sleep better — a little validation…and some beautiful fuzzy horses.

Filed Under: Authentic Leadership, Push The Bird, Robo Thought Tagged With: authentic leaders, conversations, iceland, realtionships, travel, wanderlust

Perspective and presence

January 29, 2019 by James Robilotta Leave a Comment

I like feeling small. I enjoy being reminded that on Earth and in this universe we play such a tiny role; we have such a slim slice of the pie. I seek out places that remind me of this. 

I took this photo in Iceland last January. Instead of traveling the typical path after landing, I instead hopped in my sweet Kia Sportage and drove 4 hours north to a town called Sauðárkrókur. I stayed with a sweet family there that I will tell you more about in a later post. 

During the 6-7 hours of daylight I had each day, I would hop in and drive. Sure, there were a couple of spots on my list to check out, but I kept my eyes open for what I did not know I wanted to see. I drove for hours each day, and at most, I would pass 10 or 12 cars each day. I felt alone in a frozen Martian landscape that was splayed out for my eyes and future memories to feast on. 

I like feeling insignificant in vast landscapes. There’s a strange comfort in it. Most of the time I obsess over my legacy. It causes me to say “should” too much and beat myself up for not climbing my imaginary ladder fast enough. I seek out places that remind me that life is going on and I have literally no control over it – so just breathe and be present.

Meditation, when I remember to do it, helps me go to this feeling when I can’t fly to the middle of nowhere. It’s a step. I am working on slowing down but it’s hard in world that tells you, you will never be fast enough. 

Filed Under: Authentic Leadership, Push The Bird, Robo Thought, Uncategorized Tagged With: authentic leadership, James Robilotta, keynote, keynotespeaker, leadership, storyteller, storytelling, vulnerability, youareenough

30 Second Exposure

January 22, 2019 by James Robilotta Leave a Comment

Where would you go if you trusted you would be fine?

How would you show up if you knew you wouldn’t be judged?

I get in my own way a lot. My thoughts discount my ideas. Years of having a low self esteem have caused me to share my stories less with others. Instead I listen, I focus, I make them feel like every bit of what they are telling me matters – because if it matters to them then I can let it matter to me. But why don’t I share more then? If it matters to me, surely they will pay the curiosity and attention in return. Alas, I convince myself otherwise.

I have a weird goal this year. It’s to let others care more about me than I think I deserve. I want to share more because authenticity is a two-way street and the love I pour into others I, too, am allowed to feel.

To whom would you tell your story if you trusted they cared?

Filed Under: Authentic Leadership, Effective Communcation, Networking, Robo Thought, Uncategorized

“Your Move, Chief”: Communicating as Men

July 25, 2018 by James Robilotta Leave a Comment

Have you ever sat back and just listened to a conversation between two men who are acquaintances or new friends? Men, have you listened to yourself in a conversation with a new person? It’s not necessarily surface level but somehow there is still no substance.  We tell stories to each other where we always wind up being the hero.  We make fun of others that are not there to defend themselves.  We tell tales of hookups that almost happened and why the other person is to blame that we did not get any.  Or we tell jokes that never get sincere laughter.  There is a profound layer of disconnection when many men communicate.

That disconnection can spawn from many sources.  Some men may be introverts, who are traditionally slower at letting others in.  Some could be tired or lazy and just don’t want to exert energy towards curiosity or compassion.  But more often then not the disconnection occurs because of insecurity.

Insecurity causes humans to hold themselves back, to be more concerned with status, and to share less of their story.  It forces one to assume more both about the other person and about how we think they feel about us.  This leads to building walls, talking defensively, and prevents us from getting hurt.  But it also prevents us from connection.

One of my favorite movies of all time is Good Will Hunting. And in one of my favorite scenes, we can see both sides of men in conversation—the insecurity, and the connection. Notice how flippantly Matt Damon’s character is speaking in the beginning.  When is the last time you were that way in a conversation?  How did you leave that convo: indifferent or insightful?

Then watch the way Robin Williams’ character opens the door to connection.  Who was the last person you interacted with that did not let the conversation stay disconnected?  How did you leave that convo: indifferent or insightful?

Men we have the opportunity to change the way we speak to each other, but it is going to take courage.  Take another man out for late night pancakes and allow yourself to be curious about him.  Much like Robin Williams’ character, that may mean sharing some of your own story first, but that’s a risk you must take. As he said in the clip, “Your move, Chief.”

I am excited to announce that I will be doing more programming targeted at men specifically.  To read about my new keynote/workshop please click here!

Quick warning, there is some vulgarity in the clip. Please try to push past that and see the deeper meaning. And if the video does not work, here is a link to the video on YouTube.

Filed Under: Authentic Leadership, Effective Communcation, Masculinity, Robo Thought, Social Justice, Student Affairs, Student Leadership

Why my life is better than yours

January 23, 2017 by James Robilotta 5 Comments

Last year I went on over 100 flights. I got to see Mt. Rushmore, zip-lined in Costa Rica, photographed wild horses in Wyoming, and was 100 feet from a blue whale off the coast of Cabo san Lucas. Also, along with speaking to thousands of college students around the country and in Canada and Mexico, I got to do a keynote for General Electric and American Express. Oh, and I fell in love…no big deal.

Maybe you saw my life in snapshots on Instagram. Or perhaps you read about some of the cool people I met on airplanes. Did you catch my Snapchat travel diaries? Cool, cool – I watched them, too. Looks like I had a heck of a 2016!

But what you did not see were my tears in my weekly counseling sessions. You missed self-loathing stuff I typed into a note in my phone from time to time. Also you didn’t know that while you were kissing the person you loved or a random stranger at midnight on New Years I was apologizing for ruining the night because I could not get out of my own way and spiraled into a dark place for a few hours. You didn’t catch that one of the reasons I was traveling so much was because I was ashamed that I moved back into my childhood bedroom for 6 months at the age of 33 because I was going through a divorce that I still believe was 90% my fault. I did not let you see my shame, my guilt, my low self-esteem. I did let you see my coping strategies, however. I guess social media is funny like that, eh?

I recently had a conversation with my friend, Kelly. Kelly is happily married and has three wondrous children. I was her RA before she transferred to a school closer to home with a better theater program. We have remained close and whenever I am in her state I make it a point to visit. On a recent catch up call with her she was telling me about her life. The fun things she has been doing with her kids, the way they make her laugh, and how she has to fold laundry while we are the phone because when the children are awake she gives them her attention. She told me about her husband’s new administrator position in the local middle school and how they go on dates to college basketball games every once in while. She skims over her life’s details and rushes through telling me about her world and then at the end says, “I’m sorry, I know my life is boring.”

My life is different than Kelly’s. It is different from yours. It is not better. It is not worse. It is just different. We are all allowed to want unalike things. I talked to Kelly about how just because she has three beautiful kids and I travel all of the time, or because she lives in a large beautiful home in suburbia and I reside in a “cozy” apartment in New York City, that neither of our lives is more fulfilling than the other’s. Social media has given us an exceptional platform to compare ourselves to others. This is not healthy, though.

We cannot allow what we see on social media to be the barometer for our self-worth.

We can be whomever we want on the internet. People post pictures of themselves next to cars that aren’t theirs, with tans they haven’t had in three months. But just because we can pretend to be something we are not, does not mean we will feel proud of that inauthentic choice.

Kelly and I kept talking and she said something like, “Well, I am going to keep posting pictures of my kids doing silly things and if people get sick of them then too bad, because my they make me smile.” Please keep doing just that, friend. Post about the part of your life that makes you happy, not because you think it’s going to make you look cooler. Being cool went out of style in high school.

Kelly is living the life she always wanted to live and she is super happy doing it. What more can we strive for in life than that? I would love be that happy in life. I am getting there but, as you read earlier, I have some action items to take care of to get there.

My life is better than yours because you think your life is not fun, exciting, busy, productive, or beautiful enough when compared to others. So yeah, my life is better than yours, but only because you think it is…not because it actually is. Keep doing you, boo.

Filed Under: Authentic Leadership, Coaching, Push The Bird, Robo Thought, Student Affairs, Student Leadership

Do you even care?

December 8, 2016 by James Robilotta Leave a Comment

If there is one thing the election hopefully has taught a lot of people, it is that we are not good at listening to each other. (Don’t worry. This is not a political post. Just stick with me) As someone living in New York City surrounded by millions of other liberals I was stunned watching states like Wisconsin, Michigan, and Pennsylvania turn red. Turns out, I have no idea what it feels like to live in “The Rust Belt” and watch people around me struggle to find jobs and give their families the life they wish they could.

listeningAnd I watched, after a man played on people’s fears and further marginalized people of color, women, immigrants, and Muslims, almost half of all voters overlook those hateful epithets, further dividing a country that he now has the duty to bring back together. Social media looked like thousands of people all trying to have a conversation with their own megaphone. Most of it was an unproductive hot mess. I would be fascinated to see data about if Facebook posts actually changed people’s minds, or if it just caused us to fall deeper into our own worlds, causing deeper rifts between political colors.

No matter what, what did not happen enough was listening to each other. Politics and religion bring out the worst in us. Compassion, patience, and having an open mind often gets thrown out the window. We are so set in our ways that we no longer regard others’ opinions and stories. If we are ever going to progress, this has to change.

We have all been taught at some time or another what active listening is. For those who need a refresher, active listening means:

  • Maintain good eye contact
  • Square your shoulders to face the other person
  • Do not interrupt
  • Nod your head a various points
  • Paraphrase what the other person said before asserting your own, well thought out, response or prior to asking another question.

Those all sound great, and sure, they could work. But I would like to offer an alternative:

Care.

Just care, friends. When you care about someone you naturally lean in, maintain good eye contact, ask better questions, etc. It is possible for you to fake active listening, believe me I have done it. But it is not possible to fake caring. When someone tries to fake caring it is so blatantly obvious (perhaps you watched the Presidential debates?). It’s time to start having better conversations. It’s time to start caring.listening

People tell me they hate small talk because it is inauthentic and surface. The main way we shift from
small talk into meaningful dialogue is by choosing to car. When humans choose to care about someone else they slow down. Caring people are question-askers, rather than explainers and advice-givers. They practice patience AND empathy.

I am not sure when it became cool to not care, but the phrase “zero fucks” has permeated its way deep into our culture. If you don’t give any fucks, then what will you ever be proud of? It’s time to change the way we interact with each other. Start with your next conversation. Catch yourself if your brain wanders and then reinvest, lean in, share something about yourself, ask a deeper question, reflect about their answer. This election did not teach me that we are not listening to each other, it just reinforced that unfortunate reality. Let us be better humans. Let us care.

Filed Under: Authentic Leadership, Coaching, Effective Communcation, Networking, Robo Thought, Social Justice, Student Leadership

Look back at it

September 8, 2015 by James Robilotta

My wife asked me recently if I thought I was successful.  I thought about it for a minute and I said, “No…not yet.” August 17th was my two-year anniversary of being out on my own with my speaking/coaching business.  In the past two years I have doubled the amount of speeches that I did before being solo.  I actually have coaching clients, whereas before I just said I was coach but did not actually have anyone I was working with.   I am married to a brilliant woman who loves the hell out of me and together we parent two adorable puppies, Kyra and Sophie (note: they are 4 and 6, but they will always be puppies).  Jacqueline has a great job and with our combined incomes, we are able to live comfortably in a beautiful home built in the 1800’s.  Oh, and I just wrote a book.  But when asked if I am successful, I have the audacity to say, “no.”

I personally suffer from what’s known as ambition.  Maybe you’ve heard of it.  Maybe you have it, too.  It’s a pretty cool thing.  Here’s how it works, I think of something I think would be really cool and meaningful to do, and then I figure out how I can do it for a long time.  I sometimes also try to figure out how to monetize it, though that is not always necessary or the purpose.

The brain is a fascinating place, however.  There are two sides to everything.  So, for me, what also comes along with ambition are the feelings of: not being successful, wanting to do or be more, and not being enough.   It also means that sometimes I take my relationship and my beautiful home for granted – I do not prioritize them enough.  It means that the idea of having children is even scarier than it already is for most because of my selfishness for what I want to be and do.  I am sure I will eventually write longer posts about each of these things because they each deserve more time and words but to keep this post reasonable I am going to attempt to stick to one point – feeling successful.

We are all climbing a mountain.  At the top is our ideal version success, our definition of forever happiness, our dreams.  For few the peak is clear.  They know exactly what they are striving for and what their end goal looks like.  For most of us, however, the peak is covered in some light clouds.  We have idea of what’s up there and what we want our lives to look and feel like, but for the most part we are climbing toward an idea of our ideal.   The steps that we are taking today – gaining confidence, developing competence, getting promotions, hitting goals, shaking hands and kissing babies/developing connections – are all ways that show we are climbing.

The advice that I give others that I rarely, if ever, listen to myself is that every once in a while you must stop, turn around, and look at how far you have climbed.  Take a moment and realize that you have done more than you thought you had.  Maybe you have even done more than you thought you could. Treat yourself, pat yourself of the back, be proud of yourself for a moment.  Then turn around and get back to climbing.  Get back to climbing because settling is one of the worst things we can do in our lives and, since you have made it this far up I know you are capable of more.  Keep climbing your mountain and try not to worry about where others are on their mountain. Comparing yourself to others too much is just not healthy and you don’t know their story, their background, or their struggles which highly influence where they started their climb.

For me, however, I just keep climbing.  I have my head down and I refuse to recognize my success.  I have no idea how far I’ve come and even if you told me how far I’ve climbed I’d be quick to point out that because of my privilege I was able to start at a higher elevation than many others. Because of where and how I was raised combined with the color of my skin and the fact that I’m a man, I got a free helicopter ride to a higher elevation where I then started my journey from. So let’s not applaud mediocrity, is how I feel.

Fortunately I have people in my life that force me to stop and think about what I have accomplished from time to time.  I am grateful to these individuals and a lot of the time I try and believe what they say to me – but I get in my own way too much so I am not very good at that.

How about you? Are you successful? How do your determine whether you are or not? Who do you have on your team and in your life that supports and encourages you?  Who reminds you to reflect on what you have accomplished?

We are all climbing our own mountain.  But every once in a while let’s take a moment to turn around and look back at how far we have come.  Look back at it.  Be proud of yourself – allow yourself to feel successful for a little while.  Success is not only at the top, it has been occurring throughout your journey…whether you chose to admit it or not.  Whether I chose to admit it or not.

Filed Under: Authentic Leadership, Coaching, Robo Thought, Student Affairs

Stubborn and in Pain: My summer story

July 27, 2015 by James Robilotta 15 Comments

I am half Irish, half Italian, and my mother’s son, so if I am not stubborn I do not know what I am. I am not good at paying attention to my body when it tells me to slow down and I’m even worse at listening to people when they tell me to do the same (sorry, Jacqueline). If I vehemently believe something, good luck trying to convince me otherwise. Being stubborn is not the worst quality in the world but it does tend to get in the way of one of life’s biggest community builders – asking for help.

One LieA couple months ago I designed and helped run a powerful developmental weekend for twenty-five men in their twenties. We talked about the weight they carry around every day in the form of responsibilities and fears. I asked them questions like:

  • What version of yourself do you allow others to see?
  • Who do you talk about your fears with?
  • Who are you trying to make proud in your life?
  • What is one lie you tell yourself every single day?
  • What would it take for you to believe that your story is good enough?

Then I asked them, what would be possible if they started to shed some of that weight they carry? The fact of the matter is we all carry those pressures. The heaviest part of ourselves is our insecurities.

During the weekend one of the participants asked of my co-facilitator:

“How do you get better at asking for help?”

I don’t completely know why, but that question threw me for a loop. Maybe it’s because his question was super meta since he was asking for help on how to ask for help… I think it’s more, though, that I am not good at asking for help and never really thought about how or why I should be better at it. Then Wednesday, June 17th happened (Yes, the one a just over a month ago. Now buckle up because this is a long story).

I had flown down to North Carolina the day before because I was supposed to speak at a Student Affairs Professionals drive-in conference at Methodist University in Fayetteville. Now, as a quick backstory, my back had been bothering me for quite sometime but I had seen a doctor about it and was doing physical therapy because I decided it was probably bad that I could not feel some of my toes. Anyway, I flew down to NC and had a good day but as I was ironing my fresh outfit and talking on the phone with my friend Leigh my hamstrings starting getting super tight. I later called my wife while I laid down to try and get some sleep. At most I got 2-3 hours of choppy rest because I could not get comfortable.   I began to feel like someone was shoving daggers in the back of my hamstrings.

The next morning, the 17th, I could barely get out of bed. Walking was not a stable affair, I could not sit for longer than forty-five seconds before the pain was too much and I needed to get up.   I also could not bend at the waist to even try stretching, which is what I thought I had to do because both of my legs felt like they had permanent Charlie-horses. I laid on my back on the hotel room floor and cried on the phone to my wife. I had no idea what to do, I needed to speak that day but I could not move without stabbing pain in my back and legs. I told Jacqueline I was thinking of calling an ambulance on myself. She said I should do just that because I never say I am in pain so since I am now, and so much so I think I need an ambulance, I should follow that train of thought. So I did. I also called my host at Methodist, Doris, and told her what was going on. I said I would not make my breakout session in the morning but hopefully the hospital could get me on my feet by my 1pm keynote address.

HA! Good try, James. That keynote did not happen. Instead I called one of my great friends, Elizabeth Stewart, who works at UNC Chapel Hill, ninety minutes away, and asked her to come pick me up at the hospital and bring me back to her apartment.   While at the hospital they gave me one shot of steroids and one shot of painkillers – one in each of my voluptuous butt cheeks, and prescriptions for more of the same. I then crawled in the back gate of Liz’ Jeep Patriot and laid diagonally on her folded seats all the way to Chapel Hill. Here’s another fun thing, I was supposed to fly out later that afternoon to go speak at CAMPUSPEAK’s new speaker training in Denver…that also did not happen.

What did happen is that I spent the next three days in Liz’ spare bedroom barely eating, barely sleeping, consistently crying, and trying to figure out how the hell I could get home to New York and live the rest of my life in this much pain. If I walked for more than three or four minutes my whole right leg would be numb, which actually felt better than the stabbing pain I felt other times. It was ugly, friends. I wound up flying back to NY that Saturday, the 20th and somehow drove my stick shift Volkswagen seventy minutes home.

That Monday, the 22nd, I had an appointment with my general practitioner so I could get a prescription for an MRI. He told me I probably just had a flare up because of the travel “so let’s not rush anything” but an MRI would be fine to get if I wanted one. At this time my symptoms were: tingling in both of my feet, right leg going numb after three minutes of walking, feeling like people were shoving knives in the back of my right leg whenever I tried to move it, incredible tightness in my lower back, numbness in my groin (which affected a lot of things), and lack of sleep from an inability to rest for more than 2-3 hours a night.

Also, that Monday I was supposed to fly down to Florida because on Tuesday I was to attend the CAMPUSPEAK Board of Advisors meeting and represent my fellow speakers along with my friend, Kristen Hadeed. That did not happen. I was then slated to stay in Florida because I was presenting three workshops at the annual ScholarCon conference a few days later. That, also, did not happen. #foreshadowing

L4-5 disc herniation

Not my MRI, but my L4-5 disc looked pretty similar.

Thursday, the 25th, I went in for my MRI. Having to stay still for twenty-five minutes was disturbingly painful and almost did not work as my legs were involuntarily twitching – fortunately that did not ruin the test. I then went for a swim in my new friend, Kusal’s pool because hydrotherapy was the only thing I could do that did not hurt as much. That afternoon I was doing research for how to best market my book when my doctor’s nurse called and said they just got off the phone with the MRI radiologist. The radiologist made a special call to them because she was concerned with what she saw – a severely herniated disc between my L4 and L5 vertebrae and spinal stenosis. The nurse said I should call and see if I could get in to see my neurosurgeon sooner than Monday, which is when I had an appointment. When I could not, my nurse called their office herself. In the meantime I called my brother, Brian, who has unfortunately lived with back issues for quite some time. While on the phone commiserating with each other, my nurse called back. She said she got the neurosurgeon to look at my MRI and then she asked me:

“How quickly can you get to the emergency room? You need to have emergency back surgery tonight.”

Holy. Shit. My mind took off like a poorly trained dog and it took hours for me to catch up with it. I called my brother back and told him the news, then I called my wife, then my parents. I do not know what was said in any on those conversations because I was scared and bawling. I knew Jacqueline was coming to get me so I fed the dogs and threw a book, my laptop, and cellphone charger in a bag and waited for her.

When we got to the ER, it was packed. After an hour my neurosurgeon Dr. Metcalf, who I had never met before, came out looking for me. He had a southern accent, which was strangely comforting, and he told my wife and I that they are trying to get a bed for me as soon as possible. I asked him a handful of questions to try and wrap my mind around what back surgery, more importantly its side-effects, would be. He told me that if they did nothing about my disc it would be a 90% chance that I would lose control of my bowels, sexual function, and eventually the use of my legs. So surgery it was! My wife, parents, and I weighed the option of going to a bigger, more renowned hospital a couple hours away but ultimately the same question kept coming up: you just met the doctor, do you trust him? I did. I do not know why but I trusted Dr. Metcalf and so I went with my gut.

Sitting in the ER waiting room I had no positive thoughts. Jacqueline stayed strong while I contemplated about how, potentially, my last steps were used to walk into an emergency room. I thought of 347 other places I would have rather taken my last steps. I thought about how my speaking career would be drastically affected and how I may have to find a more traditional student affairs job just to make ends meet. I thought about how useless I would be at home and how much people, namely Jacqueline, would have to take care of me. That, in turn, made me think her life deserved and needed to be way more than that, so maybe I should tell her to leave me when the surgery went wrong. I was in a very dark place.

About thirty minutes later I was on a random bed in the hallway of the ER and they were waiting to move me up to the surgical floor. While I was laying on the bed I checked my phone and remembered that I had never responded to an email from my friend Shannon who works for the College Student Alliance in Ontario, Canada. She wanted to see if I was available to speak to CSA in October. I started typing my response. My wife, quite confused, asked who I was texting and I told her to hang on. I typed to Shannon that I would love to be a part of their CSA October event so count me in! I then told my wife that I was responding to a work email, telling the client that I would love to be there…that I will be there.

It was at that moment I decided being nothing but scared of all the possible surgical outcomes was doing nothing for me. I told the doctor when he came over to me that I trust him and am glad that he was the one doing my surgery. I fully recognize that was probably more for me than him but whatever. I then told Jacqueline that I am going to be ok and I think, in a way, that gave her permission to show that she was scared. I was still nervous but I felt a huge weight lifted off of me.

My empty hospitalI was moved up to the surgical floor where they setup an IV and checked my vitals. It was a little eerie because I was the only patient on the whole floor, to the left is a picture I took while hunched over in the only position that didn’t send shooting pain up and down my legs. Since we were all up there alone and it was creepy quiet, I did what I do best and started chopping it up with the nurses. I asked them where they were from, how they fell into the nursing career. One said while laughing, “well aren’t you nosy?!” I told her about my Airplane Friends and she said, playfully, that if we met on a plane we would “not have been friends.” They were great and it helped pass the time. I also called my doctor over to talk about his favorite restaurants in Ithaca and we talked about South Carolina and Georgia cuisine – we both agreed some sweet tea would be perfect right about now.

I called my wife around 4pm that day to tell her that I needed to go to the ER. At midnight I went in for surgery after giving her a tear-filled bear hug. About two hours later I came to, supposedly back in the same room as earlier but I was slightly out of it. I don’t remember any of this, but apparently I moved my legs to get comfortable and the nurse said, well that’s a good thing! I also immediately went back into cracking jokes and talking to everyone like we were old friends. I told the nurse who called me nosy that I have a few more questions for her and told the anesthesiologist I hope he did not get called again tonight (an inside joke we had from earlier). I then passed back out while they tried to feed me ice chips.

I vaguely remember the rest of the night after I was moved to the surgical recovery floor. I was woken up every couple hours to make sure my vitals were good but I mostly just slept. Sleep was amazing because I had not gotten any substantial amount in about a month. One thing I do remember was having to pee and being very excited that I had not already gone, that meant no colostomy bag or diapers for me!

A little before lunch my parents and Jacqueline came to hang out. I ate some surprisingly decent-for-hospital food and then I got out of bed and we all went for a walk. I had virtually no pain. I was blown away and so was everyone else. This was by far the closest thing to a miracle I have ever experienced.

Later that evening my brothers and one of my sisters-in-law showed up. They, too, had driven 4-5 hours to come and see me. I told Jacqueline earlier in the day to tell them they did not have to come, but she did not relay that message because she knows how ridiculous I am when it comes to not wanting to inconvenience people when I would do the same for them. It was really special having them there. We do not get together all that much (so says the one who lives the furthest away) but we are always there for each other when it matters most.

I left the hospital two days after I showed up with instructions to take it easy, not to do a lot stairs, and not to do a lot of anything. They gave me narcotics, which I have since made a lot of money off of, just kidding… My first two nights home I slept for 14 hours both nights. I did a great job listening to the doctor, which is not usually the case so I am proud of myself for that. It sucked though because I had to ask for help and Jacqueline also just knowingly did things for me because she’s pretty great, but that also was hard to deal with.

Do you remember the beginning of this post? It was quite some time ago. I started talking about how stubborn I am and the question one of my workshop participants asked, “How do you get better at asking for help?” For me, after surgery, I would not say I thought about how to get better, instead I just had to. That was, and still is very hard for me.

I am not sure what impedes my ability to ask for help more. My first guess is stubbornness or pride, but that seems too easy. I think the main reason is because I do not think I deserve it. I know how valuable time is in my life and therefore I do not think I am deserving of using other’s time. I would like to think I put in enough good in the world to ask for a little back from time to time, but I cannot stand putting that to the test.

I am not sure what the long-term impact of my back surgery/recovery will have on my ability to ask for help. I wish I could end this with some amazing take-home and tell you I am a changed man, but saying that now would be a bit hasty. I guess my main takeaway is that getting better at asking for help is a process. I am on that journey now. Fortunately I have surrounded myself with some pretty amazing and insightful people whose opinions matter greatly to me and I know are definitely willing to help me…I just need to get over myself and ask. I also know that my wife will give me a very stern talking-to if I do not get better, so that is a pretty good incentive, too!

To try and give you some more ideas of how to get better at asking for help I posed the same question, “How do you get better at asking for help?” on Facebook, and here is what some of my wise friends said:

Kristen Hadeed: “Remove all fear of the answer being “no!”

Marc Sauvé: “Understanding and accepting you are worth helping.”

Jen Gilbert: “Repetition. The more you do it, the less scary it becomes. Be specific. When you’ve honed in on what you need help with, you empower the person you’re asking to give you better help.”

Hillary Reeves: “Help others more. When you know what it feels like to dole out help, it feels less scary to ask for it from others.”

Mary Reed: “I had to change my perception of “asking for help” to “allowing other people in on the adventure.” When I realized that I loved helping people do interesting things, and I was happy to “help,” I finally made the connection that I had to allow people that same opportunity.”

Jennifer Mullan: “Let close peeps know that you struggle with this. Ask them to gently hold you accountable when you are over-doing and under- asking. AND make a note to ask once a week for something. Remind yourself that strong also means vulnerable. This has helped me immensely.”

Samuel Sanker: “The thing that first helped me get past my own personal misgivings about this was when I realized people have been helping me all my life without my having to ask them. That implies that people are willing to help other people without having to be asked.”

I hope some of their words resonated for you as they did for me. I encourage you to work on getting better at asking for help because when you need it the most you’ll be glad you developed that skill.

Oh, and just in case you are wondering, I am still recovering just fine. I have virtually no pain, am walking normal, I can drive, travel, and can get on the exercise bike. I spoke at Yale earlier this week and by the time you get this I will be helping to facilitate a LeaderShape Institute National Session. I am not allowed to lift anything of substantial weight just yet but that is coming. I’ve lost twenty pounds and will continue to lose weight. I still get emotional when I think back to the day I found out I needed to go in for surgery, but that is because of how very fortunate I feel and how thankful I am for proactive doctors with skilled hands. Thanks for asking 🙂

 

Filed Under: Authentic Leadership, Coaching, Robo Thought, Student Leadership Tagged With: asking for help, authentic leadership, effective communication, higher ed, higher education, imperfect leader, jamestrobo, leadership, self awareness, student affairs

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