Case Study: The Essence of Inner Greatness on Display at Graduation

It is that time of year again... GRADUATION! Congratulations are therefore in order to graduates everywhere.

In the spirit of this festive academic season of the year, I wish to reprint a letter written by my older brother Joe--a talented writer--to his family that captures the essence of inner greatness, and how it was elegantly displayed by his academically gifted son Ashton at his recent graduation in Orem, Utah.


As the Salutatorian of his class, Ashton recently spoke to a gathering of nearly 9,000 people at Utah Valley University's basketball arena (The UCCU Center) as part of the 2015 American Fork High School graduation ceremony. Ashton is a National Merit Scholar with a better-than-perfect GPA.  He scored a 35 out of 36 on his college-entrance exam (ACT) and will be attending Brigham Young University in the fall on a full-ride academic scholarship. He is considering majoring in either physics or engineering.

My readers should know that neither Joe nor Ashton did what he did, or wrote what he wrote, with any intention of garnering extra attention for their deeds; the spotlighting is all my doing.  Such authenticity on the part of Joe and Ashton is precisely why the story deserves attention, and why I took the liberty to reprint it here today--with Joe's permission.

The Essence of Inner Greatness on Display at Graduation

By: Joe Jensen

The weather here in Northern Utah this May has been reminiscent of when Ashton was born 18 years ago. His birthday was Sunday, and it has felt more like Seattle than Salt Lake. After the driest/warmest winter on record it has been one of the wettest/coolest May’s ever. It really is perplexing to me that it has already been 18 years since Julie rolled out of bed, breaking her water and setting in motion our life as a family. It is also hard to believe that Ashton is on the verge of leaving home. I feel sorry for parents who look forward to their children leaving home, because we truly are mourning his imminent departure.

I got up early on the 28th because I’m a little slower these days having undergone back surgery only a week ago. I got on my suit, and when I went to put on my socks, I found that the only pair I had that would really work with my suit were the same socks I wore the day I got married nearly 20 years ago. Why do I include this detail? I don’t know—maybe deep down I really am a sentimental guy that makes those kinds of connections. As I thought more about it, I realized that anyone reading this would see right past any sentimentality and realize I am one seriously cheap tightwad with traces of hoarding in my personality. Who even owns the same pair of socks for 20 years? No wonder Matt makes fun of me for my holey socks at every family get together. Too much information.

Anyway, the other detail about this that probably has you stumped is the fact that I put on a suit. I knew I must have been on fairly heavy pain meds when my wife Julie asked me why I was wearing a suit? The last time I wore a suit that didn’t require it (by the event or by Julie) is exactly never. Blame it on the drugs, or maybe it is that sentimentality kicking in again. All I know is that Julie’s reaction almost made it worth it. I can’t ever think of a time when she asked me why I was overdressed. Maybe it’s just a month of firsts—first child graduating, first back surgery, first time Joe ever overdressed.... Anyway, ultimately for me it was my way of honoring what Ashton has done and accomplished over the last 18 years.

After I was dressed, I got all the kids up for scriptures and breakfast. Julie and Ashton had to go to Utah Valley University (UVU) about an hour before the rest of us, so I was helping with breakfast with all the kids while Julie was still upstairs getting ready. It seemed uneventful enough, until I tuned in to AnneMerie and Ashton’s breakfast conversation. It went something like this:

AnneMerie asked, “So, Ashton, what is the deal with silver or gold cords at graduation?”

Ashton replied, “You basically pay money to hang something around your neck to show everybody else that you are pretty smart (silver cords) or really smart” (Gold Cords).

AnneMerie inquired further, “McKenna said you weren’t going to buy them. Did you?”

“No. She thinks I will regret not having them for graduation. I bet her a dollar that I wouldn’t regret not buying them.”

My first thought was, “does his mother realize he doesn’t have a pair of gold cords?“ My second thought was, “it is very good Julie is not down here at breakfast hearing this.” My third thought was, “Ashton’s mother is going to kill him.” My fourth thought, on the edge of panic and irrational fear was, “is there a way we can keep his mother from seeing him at graduation?” My rational mind quickly realized that she would realize it at some point and hiding it from her was not realistic. So then my thoughts quickly questioned, “Is there any way I can be blamed for Ashton not having gold cords?” I didn’t think I could, but I knew somebody was going to be in trouble over this.

At this point, all the kids had tuned into the conversation, and I obviously was hyper focused on the rest of the discussion:

“Well, are you going to regret it?” AnneMerie asked.

“Why would I regret it?” Ashton replied.

“Wouldn’t you want people to know you were in the smartest group of kids in your class?”

“All my friends already know, and why would I care if anyone else looked at me and thought I’m not smart because I don’t have a gold cord around my neck? Besides, now I’ll earn a dollar off my bet with McKenna,” Ashton explained.

I still hadn’t said anything, too afraid Julie might implicate me somehow in this plot to overthrow the pomp and circumstance of the 2015 AFHS graduation. But, I couldn’t help but notice the impact this conversation was having on AnneMerie. I could see the wheels turning in her head at this point. I also realized that what Ashton was teaching her in this moment was more powerful than any discussion I could ever have with her on this topic as a parent largely because of Ashton’s proximity in age and her admiration of him.

Ashton went on to say that wearing a gold cord -- or not -- was not going to change who he was or anything he had learned, and that wearing it was a bit artificial. I realized at this point I might be implicated because I had said something similar a few weeks earlier. We all knew Ashton had a good chance of being the Valedictorian. However, the evening of the senior honors night at AFHS I had a similar conversation with Ashton before we went to the announcement. I purposely did it in front of the other kids. I told him, “it would be a nice honor to get, but remember that whether you are valedictorian, salutatorian, or neither will not change what you have become. Having the piece of paper on your wall, or in a storage box somewhere will not change one bit what you have learned and become in the last 18 years. And, what you have become is way more important than the external validation that any of these honors carry.” I also emphasized that while his academic achievements are about as amazing as anyone anywhere, his mother and I appreciated even more other attributes he has developed, such as how kind and patient he is to his five younger siblings.”

As the conversation wound down, I’m not going to lie—I was still pretty concerned how this was all going to play out with his mom. I still hadn’t said anything, but at this point, Ashton had convinced me that it really was an external trapping that didn’t matter. Part of me wanted him to wear it because it is an honor, and he had earned it, but as this conversation finished up, I realized he was right. I added, “I suppose this really isn’t so different from Dr. Seuss’s book about Sneeches. Do we really need to get a star belly to show everyone else that we are better somehow? And, in this case, do we need two types of stars so that some can feel better than being a plain bellied Sneech, while still feeling bad they didn’t have gold stars on their bellies?” We all cogitated on this while we finished munching our breakfast.

Anyway, we all made it to the graduation in plenty of time, which was a small miracle. The procession started, and graduates filed in. The girls sat on our side, and the boys all sat on the opposite side. I couldn’t help but think, "maybe Julie won’t notice he is not wearing anything because he was so far away."  Plus, I thought, she often misses fairly obvious visual things, like the time she didn’t notice the 2’ x 3’ painting I hung in the most obvious place in our house on her birthday about 15 years ago. Ashton entered the arena as far away as he could have from where we were sitting. By the time he got halfway to his seat, Julie exclaimed, “Did he not order his cords?”

I looked a bit sheepish, knowing what I knew, yet not having a clue how to break it to her.

“Nope,” I offered lamely. “But I wish you could have heard the conversation Ashton had with AnneMerie at breakfast about why he didn’t order one.” She didn’t say anything about the missing Red and Gold Salutatorian medal and the other garb that all the other people on the stand were wearing, but I wasn’t about to bring that up at this juncture.

It didn’t immediately seem to assuage her feelings about the missing cords, but somehow, in my drug induced state I explained the best I could, while melody of pomp and circumstance played, what had transpired at breakfast and that I actually think what he did was honorable, especially because it truly was not meant as any big political statement—rather it was just Ashton truly being Ashton. By the time all the graduates were in the arena and everyone sat down, she didn’t seem to be too worried about it. My only thoughts at this point were, “this is either a graduation miracle, or I’m really good at explaining stuff to my wife, or, these drugs really are effective.”

Nevertheless, the ceremony was excellent. Ashton’s Salutatorian's speech was both meaningful and well delivered. In talking to him later he did admit it was quite a rush to speak to a crowd that big. The UCCU Center was mostly full. (I’m guessing around 8,000-9,000 people.)

One final note about the missing swag around Ashton’s neck—no one else seemed to think much about it. At least no one mentioned anything about it—except the two women Julie admires most in our ward. They commented to her later in the day that they were blown away at what an amazing kid Ashton is, and that they noticed only because they knew Ashton could be the most decorated kid at the graduation, yet they were so impressed that he didn’t feel the need to do it. They also commented that they knew he wasn’t doing it to prove anything or make a statement—it was just who he is. Julie looked a bit sheepish at this point, and admitted to them that we are all learning from Ashton.

...............

I want to thank Ashton for his mature perspective and example of modesty.  Such qualities exemplify in part what it means to be an authentic self-action leader.  SAL, after all, is more about becoming than it is about merely achieving or getting.  Moreover, it is demonstrated not by appearances and accoutrements, but authenticity and integrity.  In the eloquent words of the poet Alice Cary:


Nobility

True worth is in being, not seeming,—
   In doing each day that goes by
Some little good –– not in the dreaming
   Of great things to do by and by.
For whatever men say in blindness,
   And spite of the fancies of youth,
There’s nothing so kingly and kindness,
   And nothing so royal as truth.

We get back our mete as we measure —
   We cannot do wrong and feel right,
Nor can we give pain and gain pleasure,
   For justice avenges each slight.
The air for the wing of the sparrow,
   The bush for the robin and wren,
But alway[s] the path that is narrow
   And straight, for the children of men.

’Tis not in the pages of story
   The heart of its ills to beguile,
Though he who makes courtship to glory
   Gives all that he hath for her smile.
For when from her heights he has won her,
   Alas! it is only to prove
That nothing’s so sacred as honor,
   And nothing so loyal as love!

We cannot make bargains for blisses,
   Nor catch them like fishes in nets;
And sometimes the thing our life misses,
   Helps more than the thing which it gets.
For good lieth not in pursuing,
   Nor gaining of great nor of small,
But just in the doing, and doing
   As we would be done by, is all.
Through envy, through malice, through hating,
   Against the world, early and late,
No jot of our courage abating —
   Our part is to work and to wait.
And slight is the sting of his trouble
   Whose winnings are less than his worth;
For he who is honest is noble,
   Whatever his fortunes or birth. [1]

– Alice Cary
(1820-1871)

---

[1] Reprinted from Ames, M.C., Ed. (1874). The Last Poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary. New York, NY: Hurd and Houghton. Pages 72-73.

SAL Book: My Story

In later chapters of this book, I attempt to teach SAL in part by sharing intricate details of my experiences with OCD, my misadventures with romance, and the ups and downs of my unorthodox career path. Before getting on to these chapters, I wish to preface them by providing a brief, autobiographical sketch my life’s story. This information serves as an introductory backdrop to other, more detailed stories to come, whereby I will vividly illustrate the principles of the SAL theory and model as I myself have attempted to live them.

My life, as with anyone’s life, is a story of the struggles to discipline one's response to life’s many problems, pains, perplexities, and failures. It is also a story of my growing success in meeting these challenges. This journey began as a toddler, as the following excerpt from my father’s journal illustrates:

Fri. July 10, 1981

Cute things happened this afternoon. I took Jordan with me to the bank to make an apartment deposit. Left him in the car while I went in. When I came out, he had opened the door of the car, leaned out, pulled down his britches and shorts and was proceeding to make a puddle on the asphalt. The last time he was with me at the Exxon Station I got a little upset with him for going on the seat. He did it right this time. Sure was cute. He was right proud of himself.

I was born on August 21, 1979 in Monticello, Utah—a small, rural community of about 2,000 people in the remote Four Corners area of the Western United States. I am the sixth of seven children and the youngest of five boys. My father was a high school teacher and rural renaissance man/entrepreneur. My mother was a homemaker and a successful saleswoman of a variety of products, including Avon. My family was loving and close-knit, but we had our share of parental differences and sibling squabbles. After most of my siblings had left home, my parents’ relationship deteriorated, leading to serious marital troubles and their divorce after 37 years.

From an early age, I was taught to value faith, family, community, country, and self-reliance. My father and older brothers taught me by example to work hard. I got my first paying job at age five. I earned $40 for a summers’ worth of work helping my dad and brothers build a cabin on Dad’s land. I was free to spend $20 as I wished. The other $20 went into my church mission fund. My position/title that summer was, "the fetch-it," my job being to fetch tools for my dad and brothers. 

At age seven, my family moved to Mesa, Arizona. This move to a more populated area marked a significant life transition for me. I traded in my country boy jeans’n’boots for suburban shorts and sneakers. In short, I became a “city boy." This move signaled the formal beginning of my Self-Action Leadership journey, which was initiated by my attendance at one of my Uncle Hryum’s Franklin Institute time management seminars at age seven or eight. It seems as though this seminar, and events like it, were providentially placed in my young life, as they planted important seeds that would eventually grow into my chosen career—and the writing of this book.

Following my seventh-grade year, my family moved back to Monticello. I attended Monticello High School from grades 8-11. During the summer months, I had the opportunity to work at a variety of blue-collar jobs involving grounds keeping, construction, farming, and ranching. These jobs taught me hard work, as well as how to deal with physical pain and discomfort. They also taught me the satisfaction that came from a job well done. While in high school, my main chore was to chop, stack, and replenish our wood supply for our home’s wood-burning stove. I loved my job as the family fire builder and maintenance man, and was usually reliable in attending to my chores.

In 1995, I began a two-year stint as a newspaper correspondent for the Blue Mountain Panorama, a small-town weekly serving Blanding and Monticello, Utah; my professional writing career had begun. At this same time, my academic performance largely floundered as a result of OCD, struggles with math and science, poor study habits, and a preference for athletics over academics.

I began experiencing OCD symptoms at age 10. They became increasingly severe at age 12. Unfortunately, I was not clinically diagnosed until I was 17. These intervening 4-5 years were, in many ways, hellish.

From ages 8-18, I was involved in scouting, first as a Cub Scout, and later as a Boy Scout. At age 18, I received my Eagle Scout Award. Scouting taught and reinforced many important SAL lessons I was learning at home and school, and further instilled within me the importance of consciously developing character traits such as honesty, integrity, duty, discipline, consistency, formality, obedience to authority, a strong work ethic, patriotism, and a positive attitude.

In 1997, following my junior year in high school, I moved to Spokane, Washington to live with my oldest brother and his wife for my senior year. This move was motivated by my pursuit of an athletic opportunity in a larger school and classification.

It also paved the way for me to better deal with my OCD by vacating an increasingly negative home experience that had soured in recent years due to my parent’s deteriorating relationship. I graduated from Joel E. Ferris High School in Spokane, Washington in 1998. Following high school, I served a voluntary, two-year mission for my Church in Alberta, Canada.

In 2001, I began college at Brigham Young University as a visiting student for the spring and summer terms. BYU had rejected my application as a regular, full-time student due to poor grades and an average ACT score, so I enrolled at Utah Valley State College (now Utah Valley University) during fall and winter semesters. As a college student, I was never one to “let school get in the way of my education.”[1] I was not a partier (I don’t even drink alcohol), but I did seek out a variety of educational opportunities involving athletics, theatre, film, part-time work, babysitting for—and spending time with—family members, dating, and attending speeches and presentations on campus and throughout the community.

In May 2003, I graduated with my Bachelor’s degree in English after going to school year-round for 27 consecutive months. The day after completing my degree, I fulfilled a personal dream to live in the American South. Enamored by Civil War history, Southern hospitality, warmer climates – including humidity--and various other romantic notions, I went forth to seek my fortunes in Atlanta, Georgia.

I spent six months in Georgia on my first go-round. I lived with my cousins and worked for them part-time in their software business. I also got a job as a retail salesman in a FranklinCovey store at a mall for about four months. In addition, I taught my first seminar on personal leadership at Lassiter High School in Marietta--a pro bono gig.

In early 2004, I returned to Utah and got a job as an Assistant to the Director of the Center for the Advancement of Leadership at my Alma Mater. During this time I began proactively developing my seminar business, and taught over 60 pro bono gigs for middle, high school, and college aged audiences.

In 2005, I founded my company—Freedom Focused, LLC—and became a full-time entrepreneur. In December of that year, I decided to move back to Georgia where I continued building my business in a bigger market. In 2006, I published my first book: I Am Sovereign: The Power of Personal Leadership--a self-leadership guide for teenagers. Although I made some encouraging progress, my leap of faith did not pan out as I had hoped. Out of money and deeply in debt, I spent 16 months doing whatever work I could find to make ends meet. Odd jobs I picked up included childcare, substitute teaching, grounds keeping, temp work, and drying cars for a car washing business. With a little help from family members and my Church, I managed to eat and keep a roof over my head while narrowly skirting bankruptcy and barely retaining possession of my car.

In 2006, I met Lina Tucker, my wife-to-be. We dated for about a year and then got engaged. We were married in 2008. I began facilitating professional seminars around the country in 2007. Lina graduated from the Georgia Institute of Technology (Georgia Tech) in 2009 with a Bachelor's degree in mechanical engineering.

Shortly after her graduation, we moved to Houston, Texas, where Lina started work with a Fortune 100 Company in the energy industry. With the tanking economy, my contract training work dried up. To adjust, I pursued and acquired a position teaching 9th Grade English at Cypress-Ridge High School in Houston. In June 2009, I started a doctoral program in Education at Fielding Graduate University--a distance education program out of Santa Barbara, CA.

During my year at Cy-Ridge, my wife received a work transfer to St. John’s, Newfoundland Canada. In 2010, we relocated to St. John’s for two years during which time I worked on my doctoral degree and continued contract-training work in Canada.

In the spring of 2012, we returned to Houston. In the fall of 2012, I published my second book: Psalms of Life: A Poetry Collection.

In March 2013, I finished my Doctorate in education, we bought our our first house, and Lina gave birth to our first child—a delightful baby boy. In March 2015, Lina gave birth to our second child—a beautiful baby girl.

I am now 35 years old. I have moved 41 times in my life. These moves have taken me to 38 different addresses in five States and two Provinces of Canada spanning five different time zones. I have attended ten different schools. I have had 37 different positions of employment (many temporary) spanning a dozen different industries. Five of these positions were entrepreneurial-based; 31 were wage-earning positions, all of which added texture and richness to my overall education and life experiences as I strove to pursue my ultimate goal to become an international thought leader with expertise in teaching, writing, and corporate organization and leadership.

Like most people, my life has been a tale of triumph and trial, sorrow and success, anticipation, achievement, and even ecstasy mixed together with a full measure of agony, anxiety, and failure. Despite the many, deep trials I have faced, I consider my life to have been richly blessed. I was born of goodly parents into a loving family that resided in unusually peaceful parts of the world. While most of my life was not marked by financial abundance, I consider myself to be exceedingly rich in relationships, education, opportunities, memories, conscience, and an intra-personal will to self-lead. While the difficulties of OCD and other life challenges have tested me to my core, the bulwark of these riches has provided an indomitable defense that has held strong, allowing my trials to refine my skills and expand my influence.

AUTOETHNOGRAPHY AS RESEARCH METHOD

The term, "Autoethnography" is used by academics to refer to the systematic study and research of one's own life. The field of autoethnography has derived from ethnography—the study of individual groups of people—which in turn evolved out of the field of anthropology (the study of human cultures). 

In my doctoral dissertation, I conducted an autoethnographic research study whereby I carefully analyzed my life’s journey to see what I might learn about self-leadership and action research. My goal was to synthesize the data in order to create an original theory and model of self-leadership that might benefit others. The result is the SAL theory & model presented in this book.

I began collecting data for this expansive autoethnographic research project in 1987 as a young diarist over two decades before I began my doctoral work. I can, in large measure, thank my Dad for my journaling predilections. Dad began writing in a daily diary while in high school. He persisted in his journaling habit with an unusual devotion for decades thereafter. In the late 1980s, when I was just a boy, he had his journals copied and bound in matching red covers. On the spine he had his name and the year(s) emblazoned in gold lettering. These dozen or so 8” x 11” volumes, along with his growing number of Franklin Day Planner binders (where he penned his journals beginning in 1983) made an attractive addition to his office library. I received my first Franklin Day Planner in 1987 as an 8-year old second grader (see image below).

A lover of the written word from before I could even read, I was a regular patron of Dad’s home library, and quickly noticed his impressive-looking, professionally bound journals. He generously granted me permission to read them, and I forthwith began to explore his life through the pages of his voluminous diaries. These perusals provided fascinating journeys into the past where I came to know, love, and respect my father on a level that would have been impossible without his written records.

I keep many different kinds of journals, records, and lists. One of them I call my Emerson Journal, in honor of Ralph Waldo Emerson--an avid journaler and one of my literary and philosophical mentors. In my Emerson Journals, I record poetical thoughts as well as musings on philosophy, theology, religion, and Self-Action Leadership. Beginning in 2001, whenever a meaningful thought would enter my mind, I strove to pen it in my Emerson Journal.

I was amazed at the regularity of my receipt of new thoughts once I made a serious commitment to record them. Sometimes a thought would arrive late at night after I had already retired for bed, and I would feel compelled to get myself out of bed, turn on the light, grab a pen, and jot the information down. Other times inspiration would hit me while I was driving, and I’d likewise feel prompted to pull my car to the side of the road, extract my Little Black Book and pen from my pocket, and properly record whatever inspiration I had received before continuing my drive. I began carrying my pen and notebook around with me religiously, not knowing when the next gem of thought would enter my brain. Between 2002-2006, my mind was particularly flooded with thoughts, ideas, and inspiration, and my Emerson Journals grew to fill 22 “little black books” (4.5 x 3.25 inch, 160 pages).

This probably sounds as much like OCD as it does inspiration, and invariably, both forces were regular contributors to this project. I thank God for the inspiration because I believe He is the Source of it. And I thank certain OCD-related practices, which, when properly managed and directed have proven enormously helpful in the completion of any sizable project I have undertaken. In truth, I probably could not have developed the SAL theory or model, much less written this book, without some of my OCD-influenced intensity and other personal proclivities. There is always a silver lining to every life challenge. I hope this book helps you discover your own life's “silver linings,” for they are there—many and varied—if you are willing to search them out.

And now, without further ado or introduction, let's move on to Chapter 4, where you will begin your formal study of the Self-Action Leadership theory.

Next Blog Post ~ Tuesday, January 20, 2015 ~ Chapter 4: Your World


[1] A favorite saying of my mother and maternal grandfather, also attributed to Mark Twain and Benjamin Disraeli.