Cheerleading Presence
Monday, June 4, 2018
Wow… Wow!... WOW!
The wheels on the RAV4 couldn’t power my return home fast enough from this morning’s drive. I feared that I would forget/skip/omit details of what was a phenomenal drive experience.
The early morning began with a mediation on 2 Corinthians 1:24… “but [we] are helpers of your joy. For by faith ye stand.” In short, helping is all I look forward to doing each morning and evening, when behind the wheel. But more these days, the conversations with the passengers have been of tremendous “help” to me. Most enter the car for travel to the “obligatory-calling” that is work. And often, I can never be sure whether their spirits are positioned for friendly engagement. Such was the case when Andrew entered the car in the 4:00 am hour. I knew he’d be airport bound because most travel within the hour is usually to the airport. It was further evidenced by the rolling-bags and sleepy deportment. I hopped out of the car to assist with the luggage, to be met with, “careful; those are a bit heavy.” I was grateful he cared, because of my old back. He settled in and confirmed he was headed to Regan National Airport for a United Airlines flight. From the metro station in NOMA we gently strode First Street to North Capitol to Constitution Avenue to the Ninth Street Tunnel. Traffic was de’lite’ful!... “Andrew” said he was headed to Chicago, and I got excited for him. He would be taking a costume-wig styling-intensive at DePaul University. “Do you work in the theater?” was my question to him. He acknowledged that he did, though at the mention of the theater company’s name, I think he knew he’d have some explaining to do. It turns out, “Andrew” manages--to finite detail--the costuming (wigs included) for the Fellowship for the Performing Arts. These folks are a “not-for-profit theatrical production company delivering provocative, entertaining theater from a Christian worldview that is engaging to a diverse audience [FPA mission; website].” The company had been in town at the Lansburgh Theatre for a staging of “Martin Luther on Trial.” Andrew spoke highly of company management. I’ve worked in the arts and know this ain’t normal. He relished the challenges of his work-- though he be in the second year of a career-change-- and praised the administrative acumen of company founder Max McLean. Utopic theater companies do exist, and even in the name of Jesus!... Andrew departed at the curb at DCA intent on the intensive, as well as showing a new radiance for the day’s journey (the intensive begins at 9:00 am CST!!). He thanked me for the classical music!
In the dawn of the 5:00 am sun, she waved her cell phone on the “feeder road” of 395 in Springfield, Virginia to get my attention and confirm that she was my intended passenger. Her enthusiasm was arresting; her name would be inspiring… “Good morning, I’m Karima!” I returned the charity with chipper reply, “Hello, I’m Raymond!” After confirming her drop-off to be Howard University Hospital (25 minutes in pre-dawn traffic), I asked, “What does your name mean?” She said, “Generous.” I told her to get out!... My next question was an attempt to have her prove her name’s worth. I asked, “Do you work at the hospital?” She replied that she was a third-year medical student. My eyes welled a bit. “Generous” is worthy!... On she goes to mention her undergraduate years at the University of Virginia in Charlottesville; and she mentions her “affinity” for the DMV (District-Maryland-Virginia) as reason for choosing to attend Howard Medical. Even as we make our way north on 395 toward the District, we share a mix of humorous and serious anecdotes about this “purposeful path” she has chosen, the impact that Howard University Medical has had on both of us, and a brief retelling of my providential meeting of South African Auntie Khosi in London last August. Since she had connection to place, I asked “Generous” how she was affected by the Charlottesville incident last August. She acknowledged immediate shock and profound disappointment. Further she said, even while reconciling racism is everywhere, she never imagined racial violence would ever materialize just down the street where she would grab Friday night pizza… As her surgery rotation begins today, she was reminded that she would have a to make a choice of “specialty” within two months time. Long calls with her Mom, and still she had no idea in which direction she would go. I advised that she couldn’t go wrong. She had wisely chosen the “purpose” (medicine); and that regardless the “path” (specialty), she should pursue it with inspired excellence. God-incidence: At that moment we were stopped at a stoplight in the shadow of Carter G. Woodson’s statue in the Shaw neighborhood… When we arrived to Howard University Hospital she thanked me. I thanked her for being the generational manifestation of hope and promise (there are lots of them)!
I would make the next pick-up of a passenger two blocks from Howard University Hospital at the hip Atlantic Plumbing building. She was en route to National Airport for a flight to Colorado, after a weekend visiting her boyfriend. Proof that love will keep “us” together, her boyfriend will travel to Colorado later this evening to spend the week with her!... Her trip was followed by a pick-up in nearby Pentagon City. Unbeknownst, this trip would put me on a course to surprising Glory (that intersection of God doing what he does, and us having our minds blown)! When the passenger confirmed the drop-off to be Old Town Alexandria, my imagination flashed to the nearby neighborhood of a mentor. Knowing from a third-party that this mentor has a penchant for Ubering, I thought, “what are the chances?” As we made haste south on Route 1, the young lady and I shared a love of the quaint village feel of Old Town. When stopped at the intersection of King Street & Washington Avenue, I looked right. God-incidence: Ann Stock manifest on Washington Avenue and would cross our path! I told the passenger that I HAD to slow down when the light changed to say hello; and right in the middle of the intersection, I was blessed as my eyes locked with Mrs. Stock’s. She said, “oh my goodness! Call me!” And we continued on for a block, where the young lady would disembark with a jovial, “Thanks for the ride!”
I took the opportunity to send Mrs. Stock the following text message:
“Seeing you briefly brought joy to my morning!... Will chat soon!”
Soon was sooner than expected!... I found myself outside her door at 8:15 am headed to The Kennedy Center!... It was at the Kennedy Center that I met Mrs. Stock in February 1999. She was Vice President of Institutional Affairs, and I was a lowly staffer assigned to the Spring Gala planning team. She would go on to work in the Obama Administration as the Assistant Secretary of State for Educational & Cultural Affairs. What I also remember were the animated retellings of her years as Social Secretary in the Clinton White House, vice president for PR at Bloomingdale’s, and as deputy press secretary for Vice President Walter Mondale. She has a story for every occasion and advice for every career quandary. It is the latter that will eternally endear us, because on one of my toughest career days (December 6, 2016), Mrs. Stock phoned me. It was the morning of Aggies United, and I was sleepless, anxious and overwhelmed. Her words of encouragement on the other end of the receiver were the salve to heal my anxiety. She said, “just get it done.”
Our reunion at the curb of her home commenced with a big hug. I advised that she would have to sit in back for the full experience (and the eventual photo); she advised she needed to sit in back to clean out her purse. We made our way through the congestion of traffic on Washington Avenue and the George Washington Parkway, across the Arlington Memorial Bridge, and up Rock Creek Parkway sharing details of success and disappointment from the past couple of years. With hardly enough time to catch up, I shared my thoughts of starting a blog to chronicle the personalities and God-incidences of this entire Uber experience. I shared details of a trip last week that I viewed as confirmation of this “creative calling.” And because her “care” and support are boundless, Mrs. Stock said, “Do it!”
Each of us needs a “cheerleading presence” to move us closer to our potential, to help filter the distractions of doubt and complacency, and to inspire us to contribute in meaningful ways on purposeful paths. For me, the presence of Andrew, “Generous” and Ann Stock (and the inspiring force of Nature) are confirmation of “necessary-next-steps” in my quest to “Inspire America to Care Again!”… And, I’ll need each of you to help!
