The Long Game

I had the privilege of coaching and teaching at the same high school for over 30 years. In that span, I built relationships with a massive number of individuals. An interactive phrase used during the tail end of my career went something like this, “Jackson I have a favor to ask, please come back and see me in 20 years because I am very curious what you will do for a living.”

This phrase was only used on the most unique student or athlete. Sometimes they were unique in an annoying way, but most of the time I truly struggled to project their future pathway. The student had a personality or behavior that did not fit into the so-called normal box, so as a scientist my interest was sincere.

My wife and I continue to live happily in the town where I worked. Interactions occurring with former students are common. After a recent kitchen remodel project, a realization hit me smack in the face. Almost every aspect of the remodel had a former student in the mix. Starting with the general contractor, the electrician, the plumber, the cabinet man, the flooring specialist, and the painter, all former students. Each professional did amazing work in our house and our conversations before or after their day were priceless.

My teaching philosophy followed the simple rule, “All kids are good until you prove me wrong.” As a result, I chose to respect kids from day one and rarely did I experience any classroom drama. The classroom environment was established early and the goal was to have a relaxed but productive atmosphere.

I was blessed to experience some incredible mentors in my time spent in junior high and high school. Two men in particular modeled professionalism from which I leaned heavily on when developing my own style. Joe Reasons was my junior high track coach. Al Drath was my high school football coach. When these men would talk to me, I felt as if there was no one else in the room. Their eye contact was mesmerizing, and their calm but powerful voice was inspiring. The respect I had for them during our time was something rarely experienced in my adult life.

They demonstrated consistency and empathy. When the situation called for it, they demonstrated passion and power. Rarely did I hear these men raise their voice, so when they did, they had the teams full attention. If they ever got after a player in practice, the norm was for that coach to walk with that player back to the locker room. That one-on-one conversation was perfect medicine for that scolded player.

A constant work in progress is my ability to control my temper. I definitely yelled much more than my mentors and I failed at times to connect with a student or athlete. During self-reflection I realized that the failure most likely stemmed from too few one-on-one conversations.

I now teach and coach part time at a private catholic school. We had our year end banquet in March and 8 members of my basketball team gave their traditional “senior speech.” Wins in coaching obviously can come at the end of the game. Seeing these seniors deliver sincere, reflective, and grateful speeches created a prideful swell in my chest that outshined most game day wins.

Public speaking is sometimes called, “Americas greatest fear.” We are not built to comfortably stand in front of a large group and deliver a speech. One after another these young men showed they were prepared, rehearsed and polished.

One young man tugged on my heart strings a bit more than the others. Josh has been our team manager the last four years. He struggles with seizures and some learning challenges. He asked if he could continue to be my manager because he was not ready to hang up his clipboard.

In a time in our world where efficiency and social media likes and clicks dominate the adolescent mind, my pride after these senior speeches was immense. They spoke of lifelong friendships, lessons learned beyond the court, and gratefulness for their family support.  

Another layer has recently appeared in my semi-retirement phase of life. Former students are now also starting to retire. Father time is laughing at me and that’s ok. In one of my last teacher conferences as a full-time teacher, I had a former student walk into my room with his high school son. When our eyes met this former student yelled, “YOU’RE STILL HERE???”

Sometimes as teachers and coaches we don’t fathom the power our words and actions have on students. When students share impactful stories with you it’s as if your early investments have hit the jackpot.

The Long Game has been good for me. Satisfaction is real when I see former students become successful and or great parents. Yes, every once in a while, I will still throw out that phrase, “come see me in 20 years,” but now I immediately follow with the add on, “and I hope I am still alive.”