Changing Lives with L.A.C.E.S.

As I look back over my few years of life, the majority of it is fragmented into the different sport activities I was involved in. From ages 2 - 10, most of my memories surround around swimming at the lake, swimming lessons at the local high school, having Grandma make that new season's bathing suit, etc.

The first time I ever tried out for a sport was when I was 16. I was in high school and I was encouraged to try out for the basketball team. There weren't really enough interested students in the school for it to be a true try-out, but I do remember being nervous nonetheless. I had never played basketball before outside of PIG or HORSE in the driveway and doing it in a team with your peers made it that much more nerve racking.

After high school, I continued to play intramural and pick-up basketball. It is a sport that taught me a lot about my own abilities, confidence, team work and unity among a diverse group of people. Basketball was what connected me to my colleagues and neighbors in Madagascar who I couldn't communicate with due to language barriers.

Now my husband and I try to play tennis and indoor soccer in an effort to be a "fit couple," as he likes to label it. I never thought that sports would follow me in my career. I always saw it as a personal hobby or social outlet to my life. With my new job, I have the opportunity to help create the same experience through sports that I had but for children in Liberia.

L.A.C.E.S. (Life and Change Experienced thru Sports) is a grassroots non-profit started in Liberia post civil war. L.A.C.E.S. uses sport to teach vulnerable youth morals and values with the intention of impacting change within communities. L.A.C.E.S. is a Christian organization that uses the Bible as a tool in demonstrating leadership, respect and honor.

I have been brought as the Director of Operations to help L.A.C.E.S. implement a new five year strategy and seek funding through grants. If you would like to know more about L.A.C.E.S., please check out our website at www.laces.org. And stay tuned for a new website rolling soon.

Below is a short video that gives you an idea of what L.A.C.E.S. is about!

http://vimeo.com/30864655

If you would like more information about L.A.C.E.S. and the work we are doing in Liberia, let me know!

The Year of Grey Hair

In 2014, I started a new job, moved to new city, got married (and all that entailed marrying a foreign national) and then quit that new job. It was a year full of transition. We experienced a lot of answered prayers, waiting, blessings and growing pains. We had no idea how all of that was going to work out. Exactly one year ago, I was spending my day’s fervently job searching, knowing that was the key for everything else to fall into place for us.

Through all of this change and transition, I learned a lot about myself and how I handle personal stress. I am fairly certain that 2014 was the year that brought on my new grey hair, which is a daily reminder when I look in the mirror to de-stress. The cap-stone lesson of 2014 was quitting my job.

I quit the Dragon Boat team a few months ago, which was highly dysfunctional and full of way-to-intense competitors for a charity event. Aside from that, I have never quit anything that I can remember. I never quit a class in college or my high school basketball team. I have definitely never quit a job, until yesterday.

I realized how much I internalize stress even though I don’t want to. I became more aware of my inability to be confrontational when I am vulnerable. I learned how an overhanging issue affected my mood for days on end even though I wasn't directly addressing it or dealing with it in the moment.

I almost held myself back from a great new opportunity because of my guilt. Whether warranted or not, I never knew before how guilt can completely incapacitate a person. I thought that I knew that quitting my job would let me boss down, it would let my team down and even myself. 

I put benchmarks in my mind of what was acceptable work etiquette: being in a position for a least a year, seeing through the busiest time of the finance season, and staying long enough to prove to my boss’s boss that I wasn't a bad hire.Ultimately, I feared that quitting my job would make me look bad. It finally came to an impasse where I had to choose what I thought made me look bad and end my position or sacrifice a great career opportunity.

A few days ago, I was sitting around chatting with some wise women and my husband. They all emphatically reinforced my ability to take this next step. I was reminded that this isn't quitting, it is seeking opportunities. In the words of a sage, no one cares more about my life than I do so it is up to me to do something about it or make it what I want it to be. I am the most interested and vested in me.

So I did it. I quit.

Leading up to the actual conversation, I was sweating and unable to move. My stomach was in knots and my heart was racing. I couldn't focus. I had to tell my boss but I couldn't. I was then frustrated with myself that I was dragging this out unnecessarily. I thought to myself, ‘if only I had done this an hour ago, I would have this done and over with but I am still sitting here,’ only launching myself into another spiral of guilt and self-annoyance.

Thankfully a natural conversation opened the door to spill my news. It went better than I imagined in my mind. I was reminded that I am replaceable, no matter how important I think I am. I realized how life moves on around us whether we do or not, so I should too.

Having that 15 minute conversation over with, I can now breathe again. We can begin to look to the future and imagine a day not filled with excel spreadsheets or silent weeks living my life out in a cubicle. As I face my last few days in what was 2014’s greatest blessing, I realize that it was meant only for a season. Less than a year in, it is already time to move on. Life is changing around me and I want to keep up with it. I don’t want to remain stagnant wishing for things to be different.

So 2015 is here. My wish is that life will be a little less stressful so my hair will stop turning grey. I also wish for you that your 2015 will be like my 2014: full of unexpected blessings, answered prayers, fruitful seeking, growing pains and the start of amazing new relationships.

Cheers!

Rainy Days

As I walked out of my apartment this morning, I was greeted with pouring rain. Thankfully I was armed with my umbrella but the torrential downpour and rivers forming in the street indicated that it wasn't going to be sufficient. Many thoughts went through my head. My first instinct was to turn around, go back upstairs, crawl into bed and wait for the rain to subside. I even put down my bags and contemplated how I could achieve that fanciful idea. I then snapped out of it and realized I am no longer in Africa. I would have to suck it up and face the rain. My boss wouldn't really understand why I was late to work only due to rain. All of a sudden a flash back of my work in Congo came flooding back in.

Due to the poor infrastructure and transportation system in Congo, people don’t go to work during the rain or do anything for that matter. Schools aren't in session. The market is empty. Life stops. It is just an understanding that rain = no movement. At the time, it was quite frustrating. Those of us who grew up in cultures and countries where you go to work regardless of the weather, this African concept was hard to grasp. You put on your shoes, grab your umbrella and face the rain. It is as simple as that. I must admit that I wasn't very gracious to my African colleagues when it rained. My staff would show up several hours late and it felt as though people used the rain as an excuse to get out of work.

One of my most embarrassing and regretful moments in Congo took place as a result of the rain. Where I was working, my staff was notorious for being late even on a good, sunny day. I was under a significant amount of pressure with a lot of work to do. The two ladies reporting directly under me were late one rainy morning. Out of complete frustration, I lashed out. I questioned them why they weren't on time. I challenged the fact that it wasn't raining that hard. I completely lost my cool.

One lady was pregnant and told me that she was experiencing morning sickness all the way to the office. I didn't even listen to her. Back then, I blamed it on my mediocre French skills but now I think that I was probably wrapped up in my tirade I didn't bother listening. The other lady was late for some other reason that I can’t remember. Her performance was low, she had a major attitude problem and I took this silly incident as my opportunity to unleash my frustration. I upset her so greatly that she came to me a few hours later and asked for the rest of the day off. The following day, she told me that she wanted to resign. In the end she didn't resign but I realized just how far I had gone with my reaction.

It is really interesting how life sometimes comes back full circle. This morning I grudgingly put on my shoes, grabbed my umbrella and sucked it up. I stepped out of my apartment door into a massive puddle. I resented the fact that I had to get the train instead of owning a car that would keep me dry. No one took pity on me as a pedestrian – they flew through the puddles splashing me and cut me off at the cross walk. All the while one word ran through my head: “touché.”

I finally arrived at the office, wet. It took several hours for my jeans and shoes to dry out. And while it was doing so, I frequently went back and forth to this reflection. Unfortunately I can’t go back and change that interaction where I completely lost it but now, two years later, I am all in favor of the idea that we shouldn't come to work if it is raining.

Feeding Strangers

“If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.” 

― J.R.R. Tolkien

There is something that I have learned in my short 27years of life and that is the unexpected is usually more fun, and if not more fun, definitely memorable which is then special. Over the last few years I have been a bit more daring trying to create distinct memories, like the time I ate ox testicles in Kenya. I didn't do it because I really wanted to eat testicles. I tried it for the sake of a shared experience with my friends, one that no one else can share. At the time I wasn't sure if it was worth it purely for the sake of an experience but now I will never forget the time I ate ox balls in Nairobi. 

About a month ago, my workplace asked if anyone was willing to host some visitors at their homes for dinner. Since I am quite new, I was guaranteed to not know anyone. Despite that fact, I agreed. Why not? It's one night of cooking a little extra food, barrow my sister's hostess hat and meet some (hopefully) cool new people. Regardless, I didn't know what to expect. All I knew were their names and where they lived. 

In addition to creating cool memories, I also saw it as a chance to give back. I have traveled in many different countries and the hospitality I received made all the difference on many occasions changing my opinion of a certain culture or time in space. I have been fed anything from rice and beans, fish heads, a glass full of pure honey and other unrecognizable substances. 

After two weeks of agonizing on what to serve, I finally pulled it together and made it happen. Now with food allergies, preferences and cultural taste buds in the mix, making  a meal isn't an easy feat despite how glamorous my sister makes it look. I suppose there is beauty in inviting someone over unexpectedly, you don't have time to worry about all of those silly things.

The day finally arrived and we met. They were a bit older than I was expecting, but nonetheless kind and interesting. They had some pretty cool stories and life experiences. We shared an evening together and if I hadn't agreed, would have missed out. My memory of that evening would have been jumbled together with the others just like it spent on the sofa watching a movie. Perhaps it is a bit selfish of me using other people to make my life more memorable but they were sincerely grateful and adamantly said so. 

Now I have this memory of that one evening we hosted two strangers in our home. We laughed. We talked. We ate. I stressed out about what to cook. We shared and now hopefully both of our lives are richer for it.

Despite all of that, it proved to me once again that life is meant for memory making, if only every day was filled with a memorable moment we could carry in our bank for ever. I need to be careful though, Gab is going to get ahold of this blog post and remind me I need to make memories by doing something not within my semi-comfort zone such as feeding strangers but rather something like climbing a tree in underwear or watching Si-Fi in animal suits while eating cheese naan (which I have already done).