Dr. James Whitfield

compassion

Resonance

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The Christmas season always brings forth feelings of deep nostalgia for me. It’s amazing how deeply my early Christmas seasons have left such a profound imprint on my life. 

This time of year was always so very complex in my youth. On one hand, we struggled mightily. And on the other, there was a deep sense of peace and joy. I think of my dear mother most every day of my life, but it always hits differently around the holidays.

A Festive Determination

My mother would pick up extra shifts and work tirelessly to try to make the season more festive in our home. But, most importantly, I was always very aware of the true reason for the season, celebrating the birth of Jesus, who came into this world to live, inspire, bring hope and, ultimately, face persecution so that we shall have a chance at eternity. She made that crystal clear. 

Sing Me a Sweet Melody

Joy filled our little frame house. I’d sit by my mothers side each night on her piano bench. Beautiful melodies reverberated through her fingers, to the piano keys, and into the air, accompanied by her majestic voice. I’d sing my little heart out. In these days of limited technology, we’d record cassette tapes of us singing Christmas carols and hymns to send to my grandparents who we rarely got to see for Christmas, as they were hundreds of miles away. 

The rhythm of this time of year never got old. Ever. I can see it as clear today as then. I can feel it. Perhaps it is these joyous feelings and memories that help to fill the gap of her loss. Her song continues in my soul.

Set Your Pride Aside 

We never had much, by way of earthly possessions. And I was well aware that Santa wouldn’t have enough bandwidth to bring me the things he brought some of the other kids. But I was always grateful for what did show up. I knew that Santa had done all he could and that was fine with me. 

My mother was a very strong-willed person. One of the strongest people I’ve ever known. Despite her resilience, she held her pride in check — never letting it  keep her from accepting help when our family needed it most. This taught me an invaluable lesson: true strength doesn’t lie in having the “I got this” mindset, but in the courage to acknowledge when support is really needed, humbly asking, and graciously accepting.

Always Lend a Helping Hand

Invariably there would come a time where my mom would find someone else who seemed to be in a more precarious position than we were. As a kid I didn’t get it and, like many young kids, I was worried solely about what I needed or wanted, not necessarily the needs of others. It’s not that I didn’t care. I was actually quite a caring young boy. But in the midst of all we faced it was very hard to see beyond. My mother always made sure I did.

She taught me that even when you don’t have much for yourself, much less to offer others, there’s always a way to extend a helping hand. Her heart was rooted in the belief that, regardless of our circumstances, there was always an opportunity to help others. She reminded me, often, that there is always someone else who always has less, and by sharing what we can, we contribute to brightening their day, much like so many had brightened ours. Through her example, I learned that the true essence of giving lies not in the magnitude of the offering, but in the intention and love behind it. And as we open our hearts to be mindful of others we create ripples that go far beyond anything we could ever imagine.

Joyful, Joyful Amidst Struggle

My mother always showed me how to find joy amid the struggles of life. In times of adversity, she emphasized the importance of having a spirit of gratitude, reminding me that even in the storms, there is always something to be thankful for. She firmly believed that challenges presented opportunities for personal growth and the discovery of one’s true strength. I can’t tell you the number of times I looked at her and thought “how do you always find a silver lining?” But that’s just what she did, always moving forward with a deep appreciation for the lessons embedded in the chaos. Her lessons and spirit have been a guiding force in my life, leading me to face challenges with resilience and gratitude, echoing her profound wisdom – to find joy even in the midst of trials, growing stronger through them, and to be grateful for the enduring lessons brought forth by them.

My Wish For You

For those who may be experiencing yet another holiday without a dear loved one – or perhaps this is your first season – I extend my love and prayers to you. These moments are, indeed, trying. It is my deepest hope and prayer that, as you navigate the feelings of pain, grief, and loss, you can find your way back to joy. That you can reach back to those beautiful memories and lessons learned. That you find peace in the midst of it all. 

You deserve it. And I know, without question, those who have gone before you are smiling down right now, nodding in agreement. Sending peace, comfort, love, light, and strength your way in this season and all the days of your life. 

Heroes

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As I walk out of the building, I hear cheers and see dozens of my students with signs of support. It’s the end of yet another long school board meeting where many of their classmates stood up and spoke on my behalf and for each other. It’s a dark, crisp night, it’s getting late and I know this will likely be the last time I get to address this group of students face-to-face. I step to the bullhorn and deliver a brief message of appreciation, love, pride, and support, then head home so we can put my 3rd grade son, Landon, to bed. 

The Kids Are Alright

Before I go further I must note something that many may not have realized about the students who were leading protests and speaking out. Many in the crowd that night have just finished their early action applications to Harvard, Brown, MIT, Stanford, University of Texas Honors Program, and Rice. Most, if not all, of them are taking a full load of AP classes as high school seniors. They are students who have never skipped school a day in their life but quickly informed their parents that they would be walking out of school in protest because they believed so strongly in their cause. After many of them spoke on this night, they were chastised by another speaker saying “they should not get to speak – they don’t pay taxes.” 

On this day two years ago, November 17, 2021, I saw a group of young people who, despite the opposition, found their voice. A group of students who had no time to engage in protests and the likes, made time. Their courage, leadership, and conviction landed them in the headlines of The Washington Post, refusing to be silenced. They represented what so many people feared – an engaged, educated young citizen capable of critical thinking and forming their own conclusions. These young people refused to drink from the fire hydrant of what may have been traditional “community” norms, but rather, questioned it.

Winds of Change

My time had run its course in the district, yet my youngest son was still enrolled there. He’d joined me in the district years prior and it was nice to have him so close to me. I could pop over for lunch when I had a few minutes. He could come over after school and shoot hoops with me before we went home. He loved his teachers, principal, and friends. And we enjoyed our rides to and from school together. 

But at this, things have changed. For the last several months I would drive Landon to school, past my former school, drop him off, then head home where a whirlwind of media were chomping at the bits for their pound of flesh. Thankfully, I’d found a dear friend and PR Strategist throughout this process who helped screen out some of the sharks. But after the meeting on November 17, 2021, it was clear that I had to make the tough decision to withdraw Landon from the district at the Thanksgiving break and enroll him in our home district on the other side. He was sad. His friends and teachers were sad and they made him cool going away presents. We were all sad. But this was just the way it had to be.

Navigating Transitions

As I walk up to enroll Landon for his first day at his new school I’m met with the emotion that most every parent has felt at some point –

Am I doing the right thing?

Surely I could just suck it up and just make the drive, push down the emotional trigger of passing my former place of employment, and make it happen, right?

But through the mixed emotions I enrolled Landon in his new school, which is within walking distance from our house. Over the course of the next several weeks we created a new routine – walk to school, then at the end of the day pick up by the big oak tree, then walk home. We found rhythm and consistency. And, as luck would have it, one of Landon’s former teachers was good friends with one of his new teachers and they were able to discuss his progress. 

Not only was he experiencing a transition academically, but he was watching the world around him unravel. He clung closer and closer to my side. While I tried to shield him from all that was going on and hide the pain, disappointment, and frustration in his presence, he knew something was off. He knows how much his dad loves being a school principal and now dad is no longer doing that. He is now accustomed to cameras and journalists following us to school or setting up in our home. And he is thriving in his new school setting. 

I marveled at his resilience and growth, his capacity to adapt to change and pour out love. On many days where I felt my light begin to dim, he shared some of his with me to brighten the way. And over the course of the rest of the 21-22 school year and 22-23 school year it was much the same. This dude served as such an inspiration to me.

A Whole New World

As August came around, I was nearing the end of my required time outside of public education. But I knew where I would be on the first day of school for the 23-24 school year. I’d obtained my superintendent certification years ago and never thought I’d be using it. But God always has a way of making a way towards those things you once thought unattainable. For this school year I’d begin on the first day of school at a K-12 public charter school as superintendent. 

Look at God.

But now I had a decision to make. With my older two children, Jordan and Lauren, I had the opportunity to serve in a school they attended. I got to coach Jordan as a basketball player (he loved it). When Lauren went into middle school, good ole dad was starting as a first year assistant principal (and you know she loved that). And now an opportunity has presented itself for me to be at school with Landon as a 5th grader, should we choose to transfer him to the school I’m at.

Decisions

For weeks prior we went back and forth. He’d been through so much change over the last few years. Relationships were formed with friends and teachers in his current school. And this was his year to be the big dawg on campus as 5th grade is the final year in that school. With us now being at different schools I definitely couldn’t drop him off in the mornings. Sparingly I’d be able to pick him up from school. I’d still probably get to join him for lunch as much as any other year. But things would be changing, for sure. So many considerations.

I drove to school alone on August 16, 2023. This was to be Landon’s first day of school, as well. His school day was set to start several minutes after mine and we would no longer ride together. With each mile I inched in traffic closer to school my emotions were everywhere, much like the cars that zoomed around each other. We’d been so torn on whether or not I should bring Landon to my school, which promised to be an amazing place, or leave him at his current school that was also amazing.

In an instant, I asked Siri to call my wife, who I knew would be up with Landon, preparing for his first day. As she picked up the phone I said, 

“Honey, don’t send him to school today. I’m gonna bring him with me. What do you think?”

Yes. I know. I went from making a firm decision to asking a question in the same breath. That speaks to where my mind was at. But I just knew in my heart that this was the right move.

She went over to Landon with the phone on speaker and said “Hey bud, what do you think about going to school with Dad this year? Dad wants you to go with him.”

All of a sudden, the phone momentarily went silent. I thought “oh crap. Did I just mess this up? The first day of school is already stressful and now I’ve gone and made it extra stressful.”

Before I got too far along the downward spiral of my thoughts I heard Kerrie’s voice exclaim, “Oh my gosh, he’s smiling so big. Yes. He’s shaking his head, yes.”

The decision was made. Landon would join me at school for 5th grade. Our rides to and from school together would continue. He’d be in a place where he gets to learn in a small setting and enjoy the outdoors afforded at our beautiful, expansive campus.

A Day to Trot

Over the last few months we’ve both gone through transition – him, as a new student in a new space; me, in a new role in a new place. And it has been one heck of a journey navigating the winds of change. 

Today was our annual Turkey Trot at our school. For the last several weeks, students were given the opportunity to sign up by grade level clusters to run in it. The winners of each race received a turkey to take home. Over the course of that time I’ve asked Landon every day if he wanted to run in the race. The dude is a strong, fast runner. But every day, the answer was, “no dad, I’m good.” 

This morning we began as we do most Fridays with our Donuts with Dad at our favorite donut shop. Then, we had a conversation about everything from the upcoming anniversary of the JFK assassination to the conflict in the middle east. As we got to school and entered my office Landon looked at me and said, “Dad, I think I want to do the Turkey Trot”, to which I responded, “then let’s do it!”. Quickly, we went over to the sign up sheet to add his name. 

After adding his name he said, “Dad, if I win the Turkey Trot, I want to give the turkey I win to someone who needs it.”

With my heart beaming with pride I said, “that sounds like a fantastic idea son. I’m sure there is someone who needs it.”

We had a great day today at our school. I was pied in the face by those who won the drawing from our canned food drive. Families feasted on wide food spreads, picnic style, with their children on the grounds. And the races were intense. 

As I watched Landon round the last turn towards the finish line with no one in front of him I couldn’t help but smile. After so much hesitation about even running, he’d not only run the race, but won first place, thus securing that turkey to give away. After a great big hug, he was off to take his picture with the first place sign and a huge turkey in his arms. I could see the happiness in his face – the pride in his stance. He’d won the turkey he set out to win to donate to someone in need.

I stood there watching this young man with so much pride in my heart. To think about where we were two years ago on this very day. So much uncertainty, pain, grief, disappointment, and fear. Then the transitions over the course of the time from then to now. And now, this moment. Only by the grace of God.

Our Young People, Our Heroes

So often, we reserve the title of “hero” for adults or celebrities, but I know better. Heroes are the young folks I’ve described above. Youth who sacrificed so much of their time and energy to stand up for not only me, but their community. They were harassed online and in person, but never buckled under the pressure. They shook up things and made folks aware of what was going on in their community. 

And my son, Landon. He is truly one of my heroes. He inspires me with his courage and resilience. The last couple years have been tough but he mets every challenge, head-on, and conquering them. I’m proud of his huge heart, empathy, and sense of compassion for others. His compassion knows no bounds, a beacon of light in a world that sometimes feels dim. I’m uplifted by his constant encouragement and love. 

Landon. My son. Our little champion. My heart. My hero.

Weekly With Whitfield – Unity

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I have a love/hate relationship with airports. I didn’t take my first flight until I was a young adult. To that point, all of my travel had been on that gray dog – Greyhound. As a kid, my mother and I would ride the Greyhound bus line from Midland (TX) to Dallas (TX), in the summer and, sometimes, over Christmas break. My Grandmother would pick us up at the Greyhound station and off we went to her home in the tiny town of Itasca (TX).

Greyhound Adventures: Childhood Curiosity

Riding the bus from Midland to Dallas (and back) was a lengthy ride, often going far out of the way of what the most direct route would be. But, even with that, I enjoyed my time on those bus rides. After I talked my mother’s ear off, I went up and down the aisle talking to whoever would engage with me. And my mom could finally dig into whatever book she’d brought along. Other than the long ride, the process was easy – you showed up, they loaded your bags, you got on the bus, rode to your destination, then quickly retrieved your bags on the other end. Easy-peasy. 

I’ve always been fascinated with people. Even as a young boy I was more interested in the invisible bags that people carry over the ones that were thrown under the bus. I remember looking around the bus and finding my “marks” as soon as I got on that bus. And, often, I had located them in the bus terminal. My sense of curiosity ran wild:

Who’s sitting by themself?

They have long hair, I wonder how long it took them to grow that out?

He has a Walkman, I wonder what kind of music he’s listening to?

She looks very sad. I wonder what happened?

Wonder upon wonder ran through my mind. Not that I wanted to interview all these people. Trust me, momma wasn’t about to let me act a fool on that bus like that. But it never stopped me from wondering and caring, while doing so at a distance.

ASALH: An Inspiring Immersion

This week I presented on a panel in Jacksonville, FL at the 108th annual conference for the Association for the Study of African American Life and History. ASALH was founded by Carter G. Woodson, the father of Black History Month (which actually started as Negro History Week in February of 1926). It was truly an immersive, inspiring, and invigorating experience. I will try to capture  the essence of my short visit to the conference in a subsequent blog. But, for today, I’d like to capture a bit of how my childhood fascination with people and their stories continues to unfold over the course of my travels.

Navigating the Airport: An Anxious Experience

I don’t know about you, but going through security at the airport these days stresses me out. Don’t get me wrong, I am so grateful for the many folks working hard to keep us safe but, my goodness, every time I walk up to that conveyor belt my anxiety rises.

Does everything go in a bucket, or do the bags stay out on the belt?

Do I need to take my laptop out, or can I leave it in my backpack?

Hoodie? Do I need to remove it or do I leave it on?

And so much more…

Then it’s time to board the plane…and that’s a whole other ball of confusion. Yes, we all have our group numbers and it should be pretty clear that we all have a ticket, therefore, we are all getting on the plane. But that doesn’t stop the mob of a “line” that forms, spilling out onto the concourse. Everyone is in a desperate rush to get in that “comfy” airplane seat and sit there for however long their flight is. As for me, I sit back and watch. People’s body language says a lot.

A lady walks in front of another lady to get in the boarding lane. The look says it all – “I know you didn’t just jump in front of me!”

A guy who’s clearly had too much to drink (by noon), tries to scan in before his group is called. After a brief engagement with gate agents, he’s almost denied entry onto the flight.

A family with 5 kids of ages (roughly) 2-13 gets into the boarding lane. As they move up in line I can see the look on many faces saying “Oh Lord, please don’t seat me near them!”

There’s a couple who clearly adores each other by the way they look at one another. And the way they can’t keep their hands off each other.

And so many more. But you get my drift. Perfect strangers, we prepare for our journey tens of thousands of feet in the air inside of a metal tube.

Perfect Strangers: Stories at 30,000 Feet

It’s quite fascinating for me to watch the loading on the plane. This process is dependent on cooperation and coordination. While there may be times that are definitely smoother than others, it always seems to work out.

I watch a man help a mother who’s on her own with children to store their belongings in the overhead compartment. Further up the aisle, I see this action several more times – strangers helping strangers store their belongings.  A lady gives up her aisle seat to switch with a father in another row so that he can sit with his precious family. 

As I settle in my seat, I notice the family with all the young children heading my way. I hear murmurs from those around me. As for me, I’m really pulling for them to be in my area. Y’all know I’m all about the kids. They end up seated across the aisle from me, two rows back. You can tell it’s already been a long day for them in preparation for this early afternoon flight. But we all settle in and off we go.

In flight, the man behind me is sawing logs (snoring) and the kids are having a blast, much to the displeasure of many around them. I give huge props to the parents – they tried every trick in the book. 

Community in the Skies: A Microcosm of Society

During the flight I thought about all the stories that were unfolding, simultaneously, throughout that plane. Everyone with their unique life journey, together on this shorter journey through the air. The conversations are rich, even amongst strangers.

While I know that this plan is definitely not a utopia, I believe that most of us are all just trying to navigate life as best we can, from moment to moment, to get to our destination. There are no questions regarding political affiliation or religious preference when the need arose for help with storing luggage. We’re all riding the same plane. It didn’t matter how you got there or what you were getting picked up in, here we are, together for this brief moment in time. People from all walks of life joined this small community. All carrying literal and figurative luggage with us on our trip.

The plane is a microcosm of our communities in our daily lives. We’re all going through something on our way to various destinations and checkpoints along the way. The luggage we carry with us throughout our distinct journeys can be heavy, at times. Our lives can be filled with anxiety as we wait in the TSA checkpoints along the way. At some point, we will encounter people from various walks of life. And we encounter and endure a great many things that may bring us displeasure or discomfort.

Unity in a Divided World

But what I’ve seen to be true over the course of my life is that, the majority of us, simply want what’s best for our families and each other. Trust me, I’m very aware of the forces that exist that seek to steer us from this reality. Whether it’s extremely biased news sources, social media algorithms that force-feed us specific information to keep us in silos, or perhaps just some members of our families or friend group who are dead set on buying into the most far-fetched conspiracies. We’re inundated with things that tell us that we’re so very divided; that we don’t care for each other and, if we do care for each other that, somehow, that means we’re weak.

In reality, that couldn’t be further from the truth. No matter your politics, religion, social status or classification, I want good for you. And I know that you want good for me. A better you, and a better life for your family, makes us all better. A better me creates better outcomes for my family and, thus, the spokes of my family wheel touches those around them, creating a better world. And that is what life is all about – working together to create a better life.

The Challenge: Embracing Unity and Empathy for a Better Tomorrow

As I reflect on this, the Mayan greeting, ‘In Lak’ech’, comes to mind – I am you, and you are me.

No matter what we may be led to believe by the media, politicians, and the likes, I know this to be true. 

Don’t believe me? I have a challenge for you. 

Find time to visit with someone in your community from a different walk of life and commit to listening intently without jumping in with your two cents. Ask them about anything related to daily life and their hopes for the future of our country and world, and just listen. 

Then, try to get in touch with your elected politician to have that same conversation. Should you get through to actually have that conversation, I think you will be strikingly surprised by the difference in these conversations. *Regardless of political affiliation

My hypothesis: 

One conversation will be authentic, real and, most likely, strike an emotionally connective response. 

The other will be generic, simply-worded talking points that may, too, draw an emotional response. 

One of the emotional responses will be rooted in care and connectedness. The other will likely be rooted in othering and fear. 

Keep on keeping on. This thing called life is a team game. We will rise together or we will crumble under the weight of divisive rhetoric, which leads to othering, hate, and intolerance.

In Lak’ech, my friends. In Lak’ech.

I’ll leave you to your experiment and look forward to hearing how it turns out.

 

Weekly With Whitfield – Humanity

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My wife and I finally got around to watching a show that had been on our list for a long while – Ted Lasso. I know. I know. We’re late to the game. We didn’t jump on the Lasso train early on but, my goodness, am I glad we finally did. Beyond its comedic brilliance, this show imparts valuable life lessons and offers so many powerful takeaways – far too many to list here – but mostly centered on human connection. Here are a few elements that stood out to me about the Lasso Way.

Optimism

Coach Lasso’s unwavering optimism in the face of adversity and conflict is inspiring. Despite relentless setbacks, he maintains a positive outlook. And this isn’t the toxic positivity of just pretending everything is ok or being naive. While optimistic, he often acknowledges the elephant in the room, head-on. Then he pushes forward. We can all take a page out of that playbook. Being optimistic does not necessarily mean that we walk around with rose-colored glasses all day. But it sure doesn’t help to throw them on every now and then and see things in a more positive light.

Empathy

Empathy lies at his core, taking the time to understand and deeply connect with others, showing genuine care and concern. As we embrace empathy it allows us to better understand and support those around us. Empathy derives from listening actively, putting ourselves in someone else’s shoes, and responding with kindness and understanding. When we recognize and validate people’s emotions, we create a safe space for open dialogue. We all need an empathetic ear at some point. Look for opportunities to practice this skill with those around you. In a society that can be so quick to cast shame and judgment, choose empathy.

Kindness

Dude’s a true leader – leading with kindness, mutual respect, and compassion. By treating everyone with dignity and respect (whether they have earned it or deserve it), he fosters a positive environment. Great leaders support and encourage others, they have a servant’s heart, and they are compassionate. Never underestimate the power of small acts of kindness. They can have a profound impact on the people around you. I encourage you to make a conscious effort to perform random acts of kindness each day – whether it be complimenting a stranger, a hand-written note, offering assistance to someone in need, or even a home-made box of biscuits.

Vulnerability 

Coach Lasso shows that vulnerability is not a weakness but a strength. He openly shares his own struggles and emotions with those around him, creating a space for others to do the same. When we embrace vulnerability in our own lives by opening up about your fears, insecurities, and challenges, we unlock a code. And, equipped with this code, we are able to foster deeper connections, which allows others the opportunity to provide support and understanding. If you haven’t done so lately, initiate a meaningful conversation with a loved one, friend, or colleague. Refuse to be limited by fears and insecurities. Utilize your secret weapon or vulnerability and, in turn, encourage others to do the same.

Relationships. Relationships. Relationships

The ability to forge genuine human connections is evident throughout the show. Coach Lasso’s approach to building relationships is grounded in trust, empathy, and open communication. Whether it’s forming a bond with a troubled player or forging unlikely friendships, his actions speak to the profound impact of meaningful connections on our well-being and happiness. It encourages us to invest time and effort into cultivating relationships that enrich our lives. People know when you care. And they know when you don’t. The power of human connection can change lives.

Forgiveness over Resentment

Resentment seems to be our default setting in most cases. And that was evident in the lives of so many of the characters of this show. But resentment shackles us to past trauma. Forgiveness is key to our personal growth. Our willingness to forgive doesn’t mean that our pain is not valid. Rather, our ability to forgive acknowledges the reality that exists and our power to refuse to be held hostage by someone else’s demons. We all have someone in our life to forgive. I encourage you to find that someone and work towards that reality, whether you feel they deserve it or not. Refuse the limitations of resentment.

Believe

And there’s so much more…but I don’t want to spoil the show for any who may not have watched it yet. I often wondered what all the hype was about, but after watching it is clear as to why Ted Lasso captured the hearts of viewers worldwide. While funny and witty, it also evokes deep emotional connectivity and asks us to look deep into the best parts of our being. As the world can be a tricky and often messy place to navigate, I have no doubt that this show will provide the breath of fresh air needed, anytime. Keep on Believin’!

***And here’s a beautiful montage that doesn’t spoil too much 🙂