Cup 31

Person: Kenyatta Berry

Location: Phone call from Michigan to California  

…

It’s all right to strike out a few times.

In college, Kenyatta Berry found herself on academic probation. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it wasn’t because she wasn’t smart. In high school she had gone to a Detroit magnet school for gifted kids, never left the house without a book to read if she had a few spare minutes, and was always interested in learning. But her grades hadn’t reflected that. Still, she had made it into Michigan State, where she graduated with a degree in Business Administration and then headed to law school.

It was during her time at law school that she discovered an emerging technological phenomenon called the Internet. Kenyatta didn’t understand was it was, or what it would become, but she knew she wanted to be a part of it. She started aiming her law classes toward Intellectual Property and and Patent Law, and helped start a student group focused on Internet Law.

She was active and driven, but her grades weren’t cutting it—once again, she was placed on academic probation. Unfortunately, that wasn’t her biggest worry. During her senior year, her law school had a controversial racial issue that prompted Kenyatta to send an audacious email to the student body, which she copied to the Dean of the college.

The Dean was not impressed. He threatened a defamation suit, which led to a host of issues and problems that were eventually worked out without a lawsuit taking place. At the end of the year Kenyatta walked to the Wailing Wall (the spot where grades were posted) to discover her grades were sufficient to graduate. She happily collected her degree and moved on to the next stage of her life without looking back.

Kenyatta was set on a job in the tech space, specifically one in D.C. She called the company every day, and her persistence paid off. They offered her a job so she picked up and moved to D.C., where she worked until the dot-com crash terminated both her job and the company. She wasn’t unemployed long before finding an opening at a small unknown company called Blackboard. Although she was greatly overqualified, she took the position and quickly rose through the ranks as Blackboard became a leader in online platforms for education.

After five years, Kenyatta realized she needed a change and decided to leave the company. When she quit Blackboard she didn’t have a plan, but wasn’t worried, she knew her experience working for Blackboard would be one that opened a lot of doors in her future. Plus she was resourceful. She was right. She soon took a job with a different Internet company in Massachusetts exploring her true passion: genealogy. She had become fascinated with the idea of tracing her roots and decided to  convert it from a hobby into a real venture.

In the process of looking for funding, an investor gave her valuable advice. Kenyatta was most interested in genealogy focused on slavery. The investors in Massachusetts weren’t interested in touching a sensitive issue like slavery, and told her she needed to move to California where the strong entrepreneurial environment might create more opportunities for her idea. Without hesitation, she picked up and moved across the country to put her idea in motion.

It was a smart move. Kenyatta found a job, her current position, in Los Angeles at an education company that she truly enjoys; she is also working on building her own company during her free time away from work.

The rest of the story is unwritten. Where her company and genealogy passion will take her is uncertain, but she is excited to find out. Despite the ups and downs of college, the short moments of unemployment, company changes, and multiple moves, Kenyatta has built a life that she greatly enjoys. It is a life filled with meaningful employment and opportunities to pursue her passion, helping others in the process. She may have gotten a few bumps and bruises along the way, but she’s overcome the mistakes and close encounters with failure that stood in her way.

That’s an important lesson for a 22-year-old to hear, especially one who’s not prone to discord.

During high school and my first two years of college, grades meant a lot to me. While I’ve since subscribed to Mark Twain’s admonition not to let schooling get in the way of my education, back then grades were my highest priority (and source of stress). I still work hard in school, but those three numbers in my GPA are no longer indicators of my ability to succeed in life.

In high school, I was the last to raise a ruckus. I wasn’t perfect, but I could usually figure out the system well enough to know how to bend the rules without breaking them. Either way, I made it a point to stay between the lines—I didn’t want one accidental misstep to get in the way of my future.

In the end, my choices paid off. My permanent record had a handful of gold stars and (aside from a few parking tickets) not a single red flag. I left high school with a collection of wonderful memories, a great scholarship to college, and the expectation of keeping my good streak going.

Now don’t get me wrong, I think I approached high school in positive way; however, looking back, I realize it was a safe approach, almost timid. I wanted to be what people expected me to be, which was both stifling and stressful. It prevented the type of bold actions that might ruffle a few feathers, or lead to a failure that all my friends and family would see.

That certainly kept me out of trouble in high school, but now that I’m past  that  adolescent phase, I’m considering various entrepreneurial ventures that don’t allow for timidness. Kenyatta showed me that boldness is an asset; she has spunk, as do a great number of other game-changers.

I explained to Kenyatta how our mindsets differed, and asked how she handled so many strikes against her. Her response, and the conviction in her voice as she said it, will stick with me: “Everything is a learning experience.” Each of her academic and personal struggles taught her something and made her stronger for the next challenge or stumbling-block. Her experiences have made her resilient, and she knows she’ll never encounter a defeat too large to recover from.

It is that arsenal of resiliency, passion, intellect and vision that makes her unstoppable and able to push boundaries.

It’s also a combination that requires a lot of hustle to maintain. Academic probation and unemployment aren’t exactly relaxing situations. Kenyatta has been in a lot of sink-or-swim situations, which means she knows how to work hard and be resourceful. She admits that it was a lot of work.

Kenyatta’s story showed me how to be comfortable with failure. That doesn’t mean trying to fail, or being okay with it, but rather accepting failure as a common ingredient in life. It’s not the end of the world.

I realize now that I had stayed in line and worked hard so external sources could validate me: good grades proved that I was smart; no major failures meant I was a success. But if I continued to build that life, I might not take risks out of fear I’d misstep and lose everything in the process—including the validation from others.

Kenyatta taught me the value of looking inward, to find validation based on self-awareness and past experiences. If you can do that, you can create a confidence and resilience that fosters risk taking, because you know that failure doesn’t mean you aren’t good enough, it just means you need to get up and attack the challenge again.

Cup 31 taught me I shouldn’t be afraid of striking out, and to refuse to give up until I hit a home run.

..

Cup 30

Person: Mike McFall

Location: Biggby Coffee Headquarters in East Lansing, Michigan

“Do you ever wonder how your life would be if you’d made one decision differently?”

Mike McFall asked me this question as we sat in his office at the Biggby Headquarters.  

The question came after he recounted the events leading up to the year in high school that he spent sailing around the world for a study-at-sea experience. His mom had picked up a brochure about the program, thinking Mike might be interested. He was somewhat intrigued, so he filled out the application and threw it on his coffee table—where it sat for weeks, forgotten amongst the various items coffee tables tend to accumulate.

While sitting on the couch one afternoon, his mother unsurfaced the application and consulted Mike, “Do you still want to do this, or should I toss it?”

Mike figured since he’d filled it out, he might as well mail it. The decision changed his life. It was—unsurprisingly—an incredible experience that shaped his perspective, introduced him to new ideas, and ultimately helped him get into a very selective college despite his lackluster grades.

“How would my life be different if I had just  let my mom toss the application?”

…

We were sitting in his office—a room with a round table and chairs with bare walls (he’d recently moved in and hadn’t gotten around to decorating). When I arrived, he gave me a quick tour of the office that ended at the mock Biggby store where new franchise-owners learn the ropes.

He told me the story of his experience at sea after I mentioned that my first, and one of the most important, lessons learned during 52 Cups had been that life never goes according to plan. Mike understood what I meant immediately. Living in Lansing, Michigan, and working as the President of Biggby Coffee hadn’t been in his forecast when he’d graduated from Kalamazoo College in 1994.

A research project brought him to Lansing. While working 20 hours a week on the project, he had an abundance of time and scarcity of money, so he dropped off an application at every coffee shop in town. He ended up at Biggby, which at the time was a small one-store operation, founded by two MSU alumni, that sold about 300 cups a day.

He’d been working there a couple of months when one day he went for a walk with the co-founder, Bob. He didn’t explain the details—and I didn’t ask because I liked the mystique of the story—but the walk had turned into a four-hour ordeal that ended with an agreement between Mike and Bob to start a business venture with the other Biggby co-founder and grow the small coffee business.

It didn’t happen right away. In fact, the idea was pretty much dropped. But Mike was patient and when the time was right the deal went through; Mike became the President of Biggby while Bob remained as CEO. That was over ten years ago and the company has come a long way since Mike’s barista days. They have since grown to over 100 stores and sell 33,000 cups a day.

Mike’s story captivated me. I love it when people jump on a big opportunity without knowing where it will lead. That’s what I’ve done my whole life, and it’s led me into remarkable experiences. It was obvious Mike and I had similar mindsets. It seemed every story I had, Mike had one to match—with an additional piece of wisdom thrown on top.

It was also great that I was able to give him some insight as well. We started talking about uncertainty, specifically regarding career paths. This time it was Mike who mentioned something I understood immediately, “People follow the path—corporate job, marriage, kids, mortgage, etc.—because it’s a safer route.”

It’s nice to follow a route that many have followed before, because uncertainty is difficult.

That’s something I’ve discovered in the last six months. There isn’t a rulebook when you’re paving your own way; you’ve got to make your own decisions and live with the unpredictability of where those decisions will lead. That’s a lot of pressure on your shoulders, which explains why all too often we opt for the path of least resistance.

Back when I started the project, I was planning on finding a corporate job like everyone expected I would. I was stuck in the mindset that there was a certain recipe for success; almost like a boat coming into the dock. If I got on the wrong boat, or missed it altogether, I would be setting myself up for failure. But 52 Cups has helped me realize that’s not the case at all.

Life is what you make it—and you get to make it  whatever you want.

That’s why I decided to stop looking for a job and instead am taking a two month backpacking trip to Europe right after graduation. This is one of the few times in life I’ll be truly free of obligation, and I want to take advantage of that.

What’s going to happen while I’m in Europe and what will I do when I get back to the States? I don’t know. It’s a state of mind that is at the same time both incredibly exciting and terrifying. The uncertainty has produced a small knot in my stomach that never goes away. Some days I barely notice it; other days it’s overwhelming.

I used to look for ways to make the fear of uncertainty go away, but failed every time. Then a conversation with a good friend helped me realize that the uncertainty never goes away.

Choosing to live an unconventional life means choosing to take on more risk with less certainty.

The fear of the unknown is the price you pay for the opportunity to make a remarkable life.

So I have decided to embrace the uncertainty.

That doesn’t mean I like it. It means I don’t fight the awful feeling in the pit of my stomach because it reminds me that I’m pursuing an authentic life—the life I want, not the one setup for me by someone else.

I recounted this revelation to Mike, and it was clear he liked the sound of it. He’d spent his whole life living unconventionally, he’d just never used that term to describe it. Mike told me several stories that illustrated he’s never been one to follow the crowd and it’s clear his strategy has paid off.

I often draw conclusions and then question whether I’m making the the right choices or if I’m just acting as a naive college kid and ignoring reality. Mike told me not to second-guess my choices—following the crowd isn’t the answer, even though I’ll encounter a lot of people that will try to tell me otherwise. That was reassuring to hear, and will be a helpful reminder on those days when I feel like giving in and taking the path most followed.

You can’t predict what opportunities life will bring—like a friend making a recommendation for a life-changing experience, or an unexpected walk turning into something more—but the unpredictable moments are the ones that keep life interesting and fun.

So instead of worrying about what life will bring; embrace it!

..

Cup 29

Person: Sue Carter

Drink: Grande house coffee from Biggby on Grand River 

“The water buffalo are waiting at the gate. Let’s go!”
 
This was a common phrase heard by Sue Carter growing up. It was one of her mother’s favorite. An expression that implied there was a whole world outside waiting to be discovered and you weren’t going to find it sitting inside waiting.

The mentality clearly wore off on Sue.

In 2001, Sue led the first all-women expedition to the North Pole. Then she wrote a book about it.

In March of 2010, she traveled to Malawi to document the efforts of MSU Professor Terrie Taylor and her team’s decade-long effort to study and understand the nature of childhood malaria.

She has been a journalism professor at Michigan State for the past two decades and each summer she takes a group of young minds to the United Kingdom for a once in a lifetime study abroad experience.

All of these experiences are on top of a 17 year career as a broadcast journalist during which she earned various accolades including the UPI Sports Broadcaster of the Year and an Emmy for her documentary “The Great Experiment.” In April 2007, she was inducted into the Michigan Journalism Hall of Fame. If that wasn’t enough, she also obtained a law degree from Wayne State and is an Ordained Priest.

But if you met Sue in person, you would never suspect the warmhearted woman in her sixties would have such a such a remarkable number of experiences under her belt. I only knew because a mutual friend insisted we talk. After telling me about her many experience he described her as the “textbook definition of living your dreams joyfully and totally.” So I emailed her as soon as possible to see if she’d be able to meet.

A week later, I was sitting across from Sue in a crowded coffee shop listening to her various stories and the lessons she learned in the process.

80% of life is just showing up.

I wondered about her trek to the North pole, so I asked her to tell me what spurred the grand idea. Turns out it all happened over a simple cup of coffee. She was meeting with a friend that mentioned recently joining a team of women going to the North Pole. That was an adventure right up Sue’s alley and she responded, “Not without me, you’re not!”  Then she found a way to join the crew.

Sue explained that when it comes to life, you have to be present, sign up, make opportunities happen instead of waiting for them to arrive.

But the trip wasn’t meant to be. The team encountered roadblock after roadblock and the plans were canceled. However, that didn’t stop Sue. Something about the trip had struck a cord within her and she knew she needed to continue pursuing the goal. After a short break, Sue took charge and after nearly eight years of the planning, the trip became a reality. Twelve women skied from Russia to the North Pole enduring incredible environmental and personal challenges during the 130-mile expedition.

The trip was a lesson in perseverance and trusting intuition. Sue’s story illustrated that the pursuit of a goal doesn’t always go according to plan. Success might not appear exactly as expected or within the desired time frame, but with persistence, faith, and hard work, things eventually come together.

And sometimes they come together in interesting ways.

We didn’t dive into the particulars of the trip; however, Sue did point out one interesting detail. When they reached the North Pole a team from NASA was waiting to do an international webcast before taking them home.  Sue had a longtime friend that worked for NASA. She had been meaning to go visit the friend for years but hadn’t found the time. Interestingly enough, that friend was put on the helicopter team and the two friends had the chance to reconnect—at the North Pole of all places.

That was one of the many serendipitous moments in Sue’s life. A few years ago, she realized that she was being called to the ministry—and took a sabbatical from teaching to move to New York for to begin the process of being ordained within the Episcopal Church. In one of her classes she befriended a man from Africa who was also in the program. After finishing her ordination, they parted ways when Sue moved back to Michigan to resume teaching. However, their lives again cross paths when Sue travelled to Malawi to to film the documentary on Professor Taylor’s work with Malaria. As fate would have it, Sue was in the same location as her fellow priest and she was able to reconnect with him halfway around the world from where they originally met.

I loved hearing Sue recount these small world experiences. I’m constantly amazed at those situations where everything seems to fall into place like magic, like the stars aligned perfectly to make a certain situation happen. It’s an exhilarating feeling and one that has happened to me a few times in the past six months.

I tried to explain that I knew exactly what she was talking about, but I couldn’t organize my thoughts in a way that made sense. I didn’t want to call those moments coincidences, but I couldn’t think of a better way to explain them. Luckily Sue understood what I was trying to say and expressed my idea much more eloquently. She said they  were situations that were “rightly ordered”.

During those moments, the countless pieces of our lives are in sync—in proper alignment—and the result is that things fall into place. Being in a rightly ordered state is a good place to be.

I asked her how one creates a situation that is rightly ordered.

Sue explained that these moments seem like coincidence, but there’s more to it than just chance. Rightly ordered situations are affirmations of the choices we make. When things fall together, it is a sign that we are on the right road, that we are making the right decisions.

It was reassuring to hear that if you pay attention to the surroundings, the world gives you feedback. And it works with both good and bad choices. If the signs around you don’t feel right and nothing seems to be going right, there is something out of alignment. That’s a sign it’s probably a good idea to reevaluate some decisions.

…

We continued talking, Sue continuing to pass along great pieces of advice and share great stories. It felt like I was sitting with an old friend I’d known for years and when our meeting ended and we parted ways I felt a great sense of calm. It was partly from her warm and selfless nature and partly from her advice.

I am growing more and more excited about what life after graduation holds, but that process requires a lot of decision making—and decision making is hard. What makes it especially difficult is that I ultimately have to make the decisions alone. I have friends and family that are supportive and offer advice, but at the end of the day, the decision about my next step needs to be my own. 

That responsibility is starting to wear on me.

But Sue helped me put things in perspective. Her stories of trusting her heart and taking chances, changing careers when the time was right, and dealing with the struggles along the way were encouraging.

One of the many lessons I will take away from Cup 29 is that life is dynamic. Once I make a decision, I can read the signs and readjust if necessary. That mindset takes a certain level of faith that, with the right approach to life, everything works out in the end. It also reduces much of the fear caused by the uncertainty of what the future holds.

I’m grateful for the lesson because living in fear of what the future only holds us back.

And I don’t have time for that.

Because the water buffalo are waiting at the gate.

.

Cup 28

Person: Ellen C

Drink: medium green tea, Bean and Leaf Cafe, Royal Oak, MI 

 

Ellen C has a challenging job.

She teaches first grade at an elementary school in Macomb County, a suburb of Detroit.

I can’t imagine capturing the attention of a couple dozen seven year olds and keeping it long enough to cover the principles of basic math and proper nouns. I’m just not fit for the elementary school scene, which is why I admire those that have a passion for it. 

And that was before I even met Ellen.

Hearing her story increased my admiration while simultaneously creating an urge to send thank you letters to the elementary teachers in my life that truly made a difference.

Ellen works at a school where many of the children are living at or below the poverty line. Her greatest challenge is getting the students to practice their reading at home—and over the summer—but for many of the parents, there are higher priorities than taking 15 minutes to sit and read a book, especially for the few students that don’t have permanent homes.

That’s just one difficulty. She has standardized testing to deal with, frustrating parents, ever increasing class sizes, and decreasing attention spans impeding on her goal to educate students and prepare them for their futures.

She was telling me about her experience as a teacher as we sat in this adorable cafe filled with a varied clientele of students studying, people meeting to talk business, and others just enjoying coffee on a sunny afternoon. Ellen was a little reserved, but genuinely amiable and engaging. It was a pleasant conversation that I had a hard time wrapping my head around the difficulty of job of teaching students who are facing very difficult situations.

She acknowledged that her job isn’t easy and there are a lot of tough days, but the kids keep her going. She knows she can make a difference in their lives. 

She knows this firsthand; she had plans to become an architect, but it was a third grade teacher that changed her mind. When she was in high school, an elementary school teacher needed a volunteer to spend an hour in her classroom once a week and Ellen was interested in the role. It was through that experience that she discovered her love for teaching and changed her plans for college.

And it is a decision she is happy about. She finds fulfillment in her job. For some of the students, she is their only source of support and encouragement and seeing the students learn and grow makes it possible to overlook the imperfections of the school system. 

At least for now. She has seen the stress of the job wear people down and make them bitter. She said if she reaches that point she’ll leave teaching. There are students depending on her; she knows she has the power to change lives, but she only wants to change them if it’s for the better. 

I respected her for that because I’ve had incredible teachers in my academic career and I’ve had teachers that clearly no longer found joy in their jobs. As Ellen spoke, I couldn’t help but think back to my own memories of elementary school—from the first day of school, my backpack stocked with a fresh sets of Crayolas to the weekly trips to the library, made up recess games, and the awful food they fed us at lunch. Those were the days when homework assignments consisted of craft projects and every holiday was cause for celebration and cupcakes. 

Looking back, I realize the excitement of school was just a bunch of new knowledge cleverly disguised as fun. I couldn’t appreciate what my teachers did for me until much later, after I’d moved on to the next step of my life.

Ellen puts so much of her heart and soul into a challenging and underappreciated job so that her students can have a brighter future. Some students will come back and say thank you, but most will not.

Ellen and I continued our conversation past the realm of education. We talked about her experience at Michigan State, her involvement in Detroit community events, travel, books, and more. It was enjoyable conversation, but what really stuck with me once I got on the interstate to head back to East Lansing was how we often under appreciate teachers even though they are some of the most important people in our lives. 

But that doesn’t stop them from working hard, which is the lesson I’ll take away from Cup 28. Sometimes the situation isn’t ideal. Sometimes it takes a lot of work before you see a pay off. And sometimes your efforts will go unnoticed. 

But if it’s for a worthy cause—if it’s something that changes the world—it’s worth doing. 

And it’s worth doing right. 

.