The Importance of Heroes

“A hero is an ordinary individual who finds the strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles.“-Christopher Reeve, Actor-“Superman”

“Every day is a new opportunity. You can build on yesterday’s success or put its failures behind and start over again. That’s the way life is, with a new game every day, and that’s the way baseball is.”-Bob Feller, Hall of Fame Pitcher

In the complex world, we need many things in order to function. Our professional lives are no different. We use machines to help keep track of information and most importantly-time. They also help us do many other things, such as create schedules, communicate with each other and even perform menial tasks.

However, there is one thing that no form of technology can do for anyone. It is perhaps the only thing that we as humans, have left in our own personal and professional arsenals-the power to inspire. This is a very human story, which is being brought to you by benefactor of medical technology. But, it is very human nevertheless.

Growing up, like many kids, I was always fascinated with comic books and superheroes. I would always marvel at the level of ingenuity and creativity that it took, into developing a fully functioning, super-being that could transcend the forces of darkness, to save the day.

In real life, I think that heroes are important too, whether they are entertainers, athletes, politicians or public figures, heroes serve a purpose in our society. They help give people hope, and provide examples for success. Some heroes are comfortable with sharing the story of their success with others. This helps ordinary people see the world, in real terms, through their will to succeed, and provides an understanding, of how they developed their respective talents.

Growing up, my first heroes were always athletes. I was indoctrinated into being a Cubs fan, the minute that I was born (so were both of my sons). My mother had many friends who actually worked for the Cubs front office, and throughout my childhood, I was always blessed with all things that were Cub-player pictures, autographs and even uniforms, which were rare in those days.

In my case, being a Cubs fan was not simply a novelty, or a passionate allegiance, it became a force that helped me focus on literally- staying alive. As a child, I was born with a rare neurological condition. At the age of six months, doctors had operated to install a pump in my head, to prevent fluid from building up, at that time, the doctors told my parents that my prognosis was bleak.

However, years went by and because of my mother’s faith in God, and unrelenting doting over me, I grew up relatively normal, like all of the rest of the kids in my neighborhood. I went to school and played ball. Of course, people around me were very conscious and made sure that I was safe.  This prohibited me from participating in organized contact sports, like football and basketball, but I made due with my neighborhood buddies. We were all into playing baseball and football. We played pick-up games in the neighborhood or at school. Of course, these buddies were also Cubs fans as well.

When I was eight, I experienced a growth spurt and needed a surgery to correct this. The previous corrective intervention was failing. As a result, I missed months of school, and had to learn how to walk all over again. However, while operating, the doctors discovered a malignant tumor, which appeared to be the nature of my problem in the first place. Unfortunately, because of my age, there was nothing that they could do until I was older, which they eventually did, when I was twelve.

Of course, spending a lot of time in bed and rehabbing, particularly over the summer, I watched almost every Cubs game that year. The doctors and nurses saw that I loved baseball, and worked my rehabilitation schedule around Cubs games. I suppose they saw the spark of excitement for my love of the game. The hospital staff wisely used this as motivation, in order to get me to participate in treatment and eventually, get me on my feet again.

However, at that time, none of that seemed to matter, because my mind was always focused on watching the baseball games. This did help distract me from my pain. It also helped me to focus on something productive and forward thinking. However, I remember experiencing a feeling of sadness, which I had never experienced before. The doctors had said that this was to be expected, but it sure was a bummer, nevertheless.

Seeing this, my mother was at my bedside the whole time, offering love and concern that only a mother can give. One day, she was convinced by one of her friends to take a break. My aunt took her to a work party. The work party was held at Wrigley Field. The people who were there, were Cubs front office employees, management and current and former players.

As a kid, my mother knew that I idolized Ron Santo, the eventual Cubs Hall of Fame third baseman. She along with my aunt, who knew Santo, actually approached him. My aunt had explained that I was sick, in the hospital and was a huge fan. She also asked Santo if he could visit me. Santo stated that he had some prior commitments, but was kind enough to sign an autograph (which I still have-to this day).

A few days had passed, and from what I understand, another Cub, who was actually going to be inducted into Cooperstown, in a mere few weeks, found out that I was in the hospital. He inquired about me. Without any fanfare, news cameras or reporters, Ernie Banks showed up at my side (after work hours no less!). He brought with him a signed, autographed photo, and even chose to stay and chat for a few.

Earlier this year, Sports Illustrated published an issue entitled “Where Are They Now?” On the cover, was a picture of Ernie Banks. In the lead article, written by Rich Cohen, Ernie discusses his life in baseball. Cohen discussed his observations, from interviews of people who were knew Ernie. Of course, Ernie’s reputation was stellar. It was everything that I remembered.

“Baseball is ninety percent mental and the other half is physical”.–Yogi Berra

As for Cohen’s article, when I read it, it was if I were transported back into time, lying in a hospital bed, and talking with Ernie. Everything that he shared with Rich Cohen, he shared with me.  Heck, I was just eight years old. And now, he was sharing it with the world. (Silly me, I had no idea that I was sitting on an exclusive all these years!)

What Ernie Banks taught me that fateful day, was most definitely, what educators would refer to as “an educable moment”. However, I prefer the term that recovering alcoholics use, by viewing this as “a moment of clarity”-and it certainly was for me!

I realized then that heroes are real people, who do real things, and make sacrifices, to help other people. I was a naive, sick kid, who needed some guidance. It took a man, who voluntarily decided to take a detour, on road to Cooperstown, to teach me this lesson. It might have been painfully obvious to anyone else.

It also made me realize, that anyone can be a hero. In that moment, I realized that everyone that was there to help me was as much, or more so, a hero to me than Ernie. However, it took inspiration from Ernie’s celebrity, and the warmness of his heart and actions, which brought this fact to life, in my young mind.

The point is, that even that thirty-seven years later, it was Ernie’s visit that gave me the strength and courage to persevere. He didn’t have to do what he did, he chose to, without recognition, and sought nothing in return. He would be in Cooperstown two weeks later. By being inspired by Ernie, I learned to appreciate life, in a more well-rounded way. Suddenly, the sky became a little brighter, the summer breeze, a bit more refreshing.

“Baseball is Life”.-Anonymous

From everything that I have ever read about oppressed people, throughout history, this is a road well-travelled. This is why Hebrew and Black slaves chanted and prayed together-they needed to transcend their current predicament, to summon strength from a greater source, and give themselves hope for a better tomorrow.

Personally, I have always marveled at cultures and people of faith, who use their belief system for a greater good. Growing older, this is what made me appreciate Ernie Banks even more. Although, Ernie was a successful man, he worked extraordinarily hard for his success. He was frequently discriminated against, by the very establishment that made him a perennial All-Star and eventual, Hall of Famer. If this sounds weird, it is.

Nevertheless, it is very true. According to Ernie, the only thing that he could do to keep his job, was to keep his mouth shut, and let his play do the talking. If only some of today’s athletes carried themselves with such poise and grace. This behavior is truly a rarity in today’s world of celebrity, regardless of the sport.

Ernie had an enduring legacy as a player and as a person. Ernie was always thought of as being a positive force in the lives, of people that he knew. My aunts confirmed this, as have many of his former teammates, as well as droves of people that knew him. Last year, he was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor, for his character and service to others (presented to him by President Obama-a loyal White Sox fan). Unfortunately, on January 23, 2015, Ernie Banks passed away.

However, he is, and always will be, a hero to me, and legions of Cubs Fans. After all, it is his optimistic spirit, which made him “Mr. Cub”. He has long since replaced Ron Santo as my favorite Cubs player. The thing that makes heroes, like Ernie Banks, so great is this- they may pass on, but their legacy goes on forever.

This means that the spirit by which the honed their craft continues, endlessly, through the annals of time. It was said that no matter what the scoreboard said, or what baseball prognosticators said about his team, he always had a positive retort or even a catchy limerick (“The Cubs will shine, shine, and shine in 1979.”).

Looking back through the years, I know that Ernie’s spirit and positive message has helped me touch the lives of others. This is the true value of all heroes. It is the particular nature of their heroism, which transcends time and is passed on for generations to come. I now know this for certain: I am here not only because of Ernie Banks, my family and friends, but on the shoulders of many other good people as well.

What we do as ordinary people, captains of industry or members of the medical or any of the helping professions, should evoke a spirit of heroism, which creates a climate of hope, which can help facilitate change for the better. It’s more than just having will, it’s having faith, through example, that can transcend a tragedy, uplift a spirit, and maybe save a life. This is what makes us all human. This is what gives us all, the great potential to be heroes, in this great baseball game called “Life”.

As Ernie would say, “Let’s play two!” I’ll second that.

The Magnificence of True of Nobility

“There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man. True nobility is being superior to your former self”- Ernest Hemingway

“True nobility is exempt from fear.”-Cicero

No matter which path you choose in life, it is important to adopt a philosophy that allows you to grow and change. This seems rather simple, but the further that you move on in your life’s journey, you will begin to see how important adopting a personal philosophy is, in guiding your decisions, and surrounding yourself with people, that can help you reach your goals.

Working in the fields of Education, Health & Mental Health, I rejected the notion of competition, as a part of my work place. As a Social Worker, I always saw my role as one of support- an agent  for positive change, or advocacy for client rights, and personal welfare. It was my philosophy, that everyone has self-worth and was entitled to be treated with respect and dignity.

However, acting in the role of the change agent,  I found myself doing some interesting things on behalf of my clients. Sometimes, I felt like a defense attorney, defending the rights of my client’s, while trying to get them the help that they needed. Truthfully, it was nothing out of the ordinary-just another day at the office. I understood that what I was doing, was to help others, because it was my job to do so. There was no glory in doing my job, although it did bring satisfaction and happiness, to many of my clients.

It was understood, when I became a Social Worker, that as part of a “code”, we simply let our work speak for itself, and we left it at that. As one of my undergraduate professors would say, “Nobility lies not only in the work that you do, but in the manner in which you do it”. Reflecting upon this concept, I had some additional thoughts on the subject.

“Nobility” is not something that you hear too much about these days. We use terms that refer to one’s growth or development, as a person, when faced with adversity. We all know that many of our clients can be brave, outspoken and compassionate, and for good reason. Yet, the word “nobility” and the concept of what it actually means to be “noble”, seems to be left out of the venacular. Perhaps, because the word itself, seems outdated or old fashioned. Well, I for one, would like to bring the term back en vogue.

I believe that it reflects a higher standard, in which the world has forgotten, in the hubbub of everyday living. It is not a term that necessarily refers to an aristocracy, but rather to ordinary people. For the purpose of this post, I would like to use an interpretation of this word,  from an author that I’ve always appreciated-Ernest Hemingway. Hemingway described “nobility” as, “being superior to your former self”. This definition works on many levels.

In examining the ideal of Nobility, in the human experience, I found that this ideal is present in a number of psychological frameworks, that have been used to understand the human condition. In more traditional analytical frameworks such as psycho-sexual model of the personality, by Freud, “Nobility” could bee seen in a number of different ways, throughout the human experience. The same could be said, for the work of Freud’s protege, Carl Jung’s work as well. Nobility can also been seen as a narrative, through the lens of many devlopmental theories and even newer therapies, like Cognitive Behavioral Theapy (CBT) or Dialectical Behavioral Therapy (DBT). Without going into too much detail, “examples of “nobility” are littered throughout literature and the study of the human experience.

However, in a satirical way, I like to use metaphors, as a means of helping people relate to a given idea.  As a consequence, I like to think of people as being their very own “magazine”. Many publications (people) are similar in many ways. We as human beings (“magazines”) are full of topics that interest us, and viewpoints, about what we see happening around us. Just like a magazine, we include stories of interest, to a particular audience, that we feel passionate about, or have some concern, or level of interest. But even more simply put, what makes people like “magazines”, is that we all have our very own “issues”.

With that being said, for better or worse, it is our “issues” that help shape and define who we are. For some, fate has dealt them a cruel hand, in comparison to most. For some, they will never be able to see, hear, walk or even experience an array of human emotions, in the way that most of us do, simply because they are trapped within a human body, that simply does not allow for such experiences be processed and understood as such.

In the spirit of self-improvement, I often reflect upon things that inspire or concern me. In preparation for writing this, my 10th post for Linked In, I thought back to a time and place, where I once worked, in my late teens and early twenties.

At this time, I didn’t fully understand the implications of the experiences, of the people that I was working with, in the way that I do now. However, I will say this, sometimes tragedy can help you forge new ways of understanding the world around you. Such is the case, in my current predicament. I am unemployed and seeking work, that will hopefully allow me to support myself and continue my life’s work, through helping the less fortunate. Following the wisdom of my grandmother,”It’s never a bad thing to be grateful for what you have”. As you read on, I had some wonderful “teachers” who helped reinforce this lesson.

Reflecting upon my career, I could think of no crueler fate than working with developmentally disabled adolescents and adults (The one exception, being working with teenagers who were developing Schizophrenics.). Many of these good folks, had all of the faculties that most of us have-two arms, two legs, use of their hands, the ability to walk and even speak (for most).

There were others who were less fortunate. They were unable to speak, walk on their own, feed and bathe themselves. For these folks, their life was a constant intrusion, by other people supervising them. Although chronologically, they may have been teenagers or young adults, time stood still for them. Although they got older, and their bodies (sometimes) matured, their minds and hearts were forever stuck in the same place. Since the worse off of these folks were basically incapable of spontaneous or self-expression of any kind, it was often difficult, at best, to determine what they were thinking or feeling.

However, for the higher functioning of these folks, things were quite  the contrary. These lads were very much aware of our world, as most of us see and experience it. They were capable of communicating and engaging, in meaningful language and activities, and frequently did. They lived amongst each other, separate from the rest of the world, yet, engaged it in every day, as you or I would. they held jobs, went shopping, attended concerts and went to movies, just like anyone else their age.

But curiously, they seemed immune to trends in fashion and technology. In their world, all things were consistent, and revolved around the pride that they exhibited, in doing just the ordinary-working and participating in life, just like everyone else.

I could only imagine, what it would have been like for any one of them, looking at our world, from their perspective. I always wondered what it was like to watch a movie, as innocent, as say, “Cinderella”, and wonder what was going through their minds. I knew for some young men, despite their limitations, they were very aware  and attracted to the others.  They had a rudamentary understanding  about the idea of “romance”. Yet, being trapped in the bodies of who they were, they struggled to express, or act upon their impulses, without a being aware of how different they were, from the rest of the world.

These were good guys, that knew all the right words and all the right things to do, yet, at the moment of truth, things never seemed to go the way they planned.  It would have been awkward enough for an ordinary person of the same age to say, ask a girl that they liked, out on a date. But for these young men, fate had dealt a very cruel hand. Despite saying and doing all of the sweetest things, they never seemed to measure up, to the people, who were not like them. I found this to be horrifying and cruel beyond measure.

To my surprise, these folks found ways to socialize, with the help of caring adults around them. through various different activities. These young lads, were put in social situations that were similar to ones, that they might experience, if they were a typical teenager. They watched movies, played video games, attended classes in Music, Art,  & Religious Education. Some went to schools in the community. They celebrated holidays, birthdays and special occasions together. All the while, the outside world was doing whatever it was doing, these lads had their own world, right within our world. The was both unique and facinating, at the same time.

Working amongst these folks for a number of years, I began to appreciate their world, as being far superior, to the outside world, in so many ways. For example, there was never any major crime. If there was an argument or dispute, is was usually settled peacefully. There was never any sense of envy or greed, over what another person had. There was never any competition for social status. There was never any heated debate about religion or politics. And, even more astounding, there was never any sense of discrimination, of any kind, by any of these young men-ever.

These folks were blessed with the things that they had, and although like most of us, they may have wanted other things, this factor did not seem to impact their relationship with each other, in any major way. In fact, working to earn, and save money, to buy the things that you needed and wanted, was very important, and highly valued, in their community.

These young men were motivated, and learned to budget simply  based on their own desires to buy things, and demonstrate their independence. Any one of these guys, would give your average American teenager, a lesson or two, in Finance, that would make Suze Orman proud. This was one characteristic, that I found enduring, and never seemed to grow out of style, even as these folks grew older. I found it amazing how out of basic, sheer will, these simple folks, were able to set financial goals, maintain budgets, and demonstrate an expected level of responsibility, for an average adult-even though they were anything but average. In fact their IQ’s were below average or borderline, at best.

However, when the highest functioning of these kindly folks, ventured out into our world to work, they were not seen through the same eyes, that valued them, in their environment. They were seen as limited, pitiful or treated with scorn and indifference. Coming back home from work in the outside world, was like coming back from a hazing. They were not the same cheery, able bodied, eager folks that wanted to have a job, and earn money, like all of the cool kids, that they routinely saw on TV. They came back to realize that our reality, was really not meant for them, in the eyes of some people. Some of them cried when they came home. Without fail, they always asked the same question, “Why was I treated in this way?”

As a supportive adult, it was a difficult question to answer. I always tried to empathize and be supportive. I found myself saying things that I thought were helpful like, “People are mean because they fear that which they do not understand”, or “Some people are just so caught up in appearances, they are never able to get beyond the surface”. I would  even try to be concrete and matter of fact, and say something to the effect, “The fact that someone you never met, is rude or mean to you, is likely more their issue and not your problem”. This explanation (and many others), along with a firm belief in Christ, seemed to help these guys feel better. Truthfully, in hindsight, just listening and showing some compassion, likely had a more profound effect.

It was in working with these special folks, that I discovered that true nobility does exist in the world. The same person who was crying to me, just the night before, got up and went back to his job (where he was verbally abused less than twenty-four hours ago), the very next day. This young man bagged groceries at a local grocery store, like many other young men, across the country, who have the same genetic disposition.

One day, on my way to work, I decided to pick up something for lunch. I thought that I would pay this young man a visit. When I walked in the store, I could see him, with his apron and ID tag on. He was smiling, and doing his best to chat up customers, while he bagged their groceries. I stopped in my tracks and watched in wonder. I thought to myself, what a noble sight. How heroic of this young man, taking a chance, and trying to make it, just like everyone else in this mean, old world, that he knew all too well.

He could have easily stayed home and let the state take care of his needs and leave it that. Yet, when confronted with cruelty beyond measure, he chose to “man up” and get back to work. What a feat of true bravery! Then, I thought to myself, if these people that he encountered every day, only knew about the innocence of his world, and the epic courage he displayed, just to bag their groceries, would his experience at work be any different?

It was at that moment, that I realized something startling. I was in the presence of true nobility. In spite of all of his cognitive impairments. In spite of the fact, that he looked and spoke differently from others. In spite of the fact, that he was mocked the day before, and was horribly upset. In spite of everything going against him, he chose to take on the world that rejected him.

I realized then, that it didn’t matter whether people accepted or rejected this young man. What was significant, was the fact that he “wanted” a place in the world, no matter what anyone said. This young man had had every right to bag groceries, just like any other bloke. Amazingly, he didn’t have to protest, start a conflict or defy authority, in order to make his point. Furthermore, upon hearing of the incident that happened at work, his fellow housemates did not “raise the roof”, threaten or express anger or vow retribution. No one took to the streets to deface or destroy property. No one contacted the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC) or The Illinois Department of Human Rights (although they had grounds to certainly do so).

Instead, they listened, as he talked. Then, he listened, as they talked. They offered words of encouragement and support. They were kind and compassionate, and backed their statements up with simple logic and reason, as well as handshakes and hugs. The final result, was that he would simply let his actions do the talking. He was going back to work the very next day-rain or shine, no matter what anyone said-period.

It was at that moment, that I realized that this young man, and his fellow cohorts, were more than just “special people” trying to find a place in the world. They were God’s embassadors. Their mission in life, was to teach others how to be tolerant, brave and kind, in spite of the forces of darkness, that exist in everyday life.

One day, out of the blue, I asked the same young man, who was a victim of ridicule at work, what made him want to get up and go back to work, after being humiliated. His answer blew me away. It was just plain, simple and honest. He said, “I have to earn money to make a living. I also have to keep trying to get better every day, so that I can keep this job, and maybe, one day, get a better job”.

This guy had a philosophy and didn’t even recognize it as such. But to me, it was as plain as the nose on his face. Hard work, faith and tenacity were his secret to success. He would not let pejudice or ridicule define him. Rather, he chose to be hard working, eager to learn, disciplined and goal focused. Truth be told, he was not as intellegent as the average person his age, but what he had was a desire to improve himself, that motivated him to work hard and accept and learn to deal with adversity.

I realized then, as I do now, that the art of Nobility, lies in the ability to hold your head up, when you are down, and ignore negative things, that are only going to make you feel bad. But most of all, the art of Nobility, lies in knowing, that despite all that is, or may seem to be against you, you are able to somehow rise up, face your detractors and have a smile on your face, because you “want” a place in this world, no matter what. It is this factor that makes you worthy of a place in the world. It is a willingness to work hard, (despite your limitations) and suffer through the hard times, in order to become a better person, than you you were before.

It’s tough being unemployed. It’s tougher filling out hundreds of applications, and speaking to countless recruiters and employers. It’s even tougher being told, after an interview, that you were not chosen for hire. It wears on you, believe me. However, as I look back, I remember the lessons of my past, and know that there are no guarantees in life, but what we learn, from the lessons that we choose to embrace.

Today, I am hoping to find a descent job to support myself. As disenchanting as my current experience has been, I am hoping to capture the “flow” of the lessons of the past. Yet, I am inspired and blessed, to have known such ordinary men, who were equipped with far less, but were capable of demonstrating such courage and above all-Nobility. We should all be so blessed.