I rode with the paramedics today, this was one of the services we came across.  I need some time to process today’s experience before I can write anything. It was intense.

I grew up in a typical American town, as far as I knew, there wasn’t much there that differed from say – Columbus or Denver. Being sheltered as a child is probably not all that unusual, especially in the United States, but aside from a bit of heightened fear of crime, my New Orleans upbringing was typically American. It wasn’t until I became a paramedic in the city that I realized that New Orleans was two places, one for white people, and one for black. It was probably this realization of the stark economic division in the city that drove me away. And really, it’s not that Denver doesn’t have its fair share of divisions along racial lines, it’s that they are far less prevalent. Being a paramedic in New Orleans always gave me, what I thought, was a clear view of poverty and the dirty secret it can sometimes be in a city.

I started my Monday out at a coffee shop near my hotel called “Brownies and Downies.” I had no idea what that meant, but it was close and I was in need of caffeine. I have to say, I love when American political correctness is exposed for what it is, an exercise in sterilizing situations of their truth. I say this because “Brownies and Downies” is a coffee shop where waiters with Down’s Syndrome serve coffee and brownies. Can you imagine a US non-profit that provided work training to this population calling themselves Downies? Their name aside, they are providing real work experience and income to a population that desperately needs it, and serving one hell of a yogurt parfait (I needed the probiotics).

The thing about income inequality is, as a society moves towards having deep chasms between economic and social classes, those people within the classes lose the ability to imagine lives in the others. In Cape Town, there are neighborhoods where millions of people live without running water, in tin shacks while millions drive past them every day on the highway – few ever experience their reality. Driving past these places on Monday, one can only catch a glimpse and imagine what life might be like. And as we enjoyed our wine tour of Stellenbosch, sipping out of crystal classes on beautiful verandas, we are far outside the contemplation of a member of Cape Town’s impoverished population.

Thus far, on the surface, Cape Town has been a magically wonderful place to visit. And, honestly, aside from some colorful tin on the highway, I have been completely isolated from its truly horrific poverty. I am reminded of my childhood in New Orleans, how people can feel as though they are part of a solution – or at least supporting their fellow, man by purchasing a cup of coffee. But the reality is the people facilitate their lifestyle of verandas and $1000 hats are literally starving to death, just out of earshot.

Today I ride with the paramedics in the hopes of better understanding the whole story.

 

Nobody ever gave me this advice, but probably because I tend to get lucky, I have the greatest wife. This is one of those statements that is often made, not easily supported with evidence. Well guess what? I have proof.

Having to leave your family for an extended period of time is something that, I would guess, nobody ever gets used to, and I was fairly nervous about being away from Melissa and Wyatt before this trip (I am getting to the proof part). My wife, with her tireless effort and patience for me, was nothing but supportive, really eliminating anything logical that would direct this anxiety. As anxiety goes, though, it remained, making the last few weeks, and really the last few days, a bit difficult. Newsflash: Its really fucking hard to leave your kid, even for short and worthwhile events. So what does my wife do to help alleviate this anxiety? She does this amazingly simple and monumentally impactful thing:

That’s right, she wrote me a daily note, on the back of a picture of Wyatt – I literally get to hear from and see them each morning. Mel just blows my mind every day, and she is teaching our son to be just as caring and special as she is, what a wonderful gift to him and me.

Ok, I know, this is supposed to be a travel blog. One day here and Cape Town is all it was promised to be, a breathtaking place filled with really kind and engaging people.

 

 

I’m on a boat plane.

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About a year and a half ago I graduated from a leadership program, at the University of Denver, called Public Safety Leadership Development. From what I understand, and I certainly could be wrong, (correct me if this is not true) the program was born from an understanding that there was a lack of leadership education in emergency services, in the wake of the Columbine Shooting. I walked out of a six day course and felt like a changed man, a changed man who had a healthy skepticism that six days of anything could change anyone. Of course, other than heroin and business class, cause either of those things impacts one’s life forever.

So, I walked out of this program, pretty happy about how I now understood what I didn’t know, which is a realization that is invaluable. This gift was given to me by a “retired ski bum” named Kerry Plemmons, who is “escaping mediocrity one day at a time.” If I just quoted him all the time it would be an exercise in synthesized juxtapositions bathed in wine. So, anyway, because of Kerry I now understood just how little I understood. Before you balk at this being a gift, it truly is. Consult my last post to see how many people live their entire lives in the dark about their true capability.

Back to the point, I now felt like a complete moron, which is an odd realization when you have recently accomplished one of your most lofty career goals – hey Brandon, you’re bad at this. As my employee and friend Diane says, “I hated you when you started here, you were terrible” (she’s kinda blunt, it’s a western thin, apparently). Once one understands their failure, it is quite humbling. This wasn’t the first time that I had had this opportunity, I am sure at least 23 girlfriends had been glad to point out how dense I was, but like many other situations, I steered away from the criticism, finding other people who were happy to ignore my faults. It seems like this is really a death spiral, and I think a lot of people slip further and further away from what they could be, as the deviance is normalized – step by step.

So, what now? What next? Well, I must say I am a lucky asshole. Part of my luck seems to be falling into wonderful situations, despite myself. For Example:

• My wife is certainly slumming it
• I was lucky enough to survive 15 years as a paramedic, fairly unscathed – which many are not able to do.
• I somehow walked (crawled) away from getting hit by a monster truck – seriously
• I’m the father of this amazing little kid that learned how to shake my hand. They were right, fatherhood is like having a really cool dog that learns to talk (and shake hands!!)

In line with this theme, Kerry Plemmons was nice enough to meet me for coffee, and he said “get an EMBA.” He may have said “get and EMBA, dummy.” That sounds more like him. Honestly I had to google the E, not really understanding the whole thing. Initially I thought, I’m not a businessman, why would I do this? But then I remembered those 6 days with Kerry, and their effect on me. Could this be the road from understanding my lack of capability to actual capability? Seemed like a decent idea, and I did have a huge pile of cash in my mattress for a rainy day, or private school degree, so what the hell.

Honestly, I imagined I would fail out within a month or two, or maybe vomit on the shoes of the person sitting next to me. I forgot what happens when you have the privilege of sitting in a room of fantastically intelligent people, participating in the learning process, while led by dynamic and engaging professors. Rising to the occasion is a pretty cool thing, it’s really a testament to a group’s ability to out perform an individual, and so far, I haven’t failed out.

I met an incredible group of people, who are as diverse as they are interesting and capable. We have spent the last year together, learning the science of leadership, finance and economics, strategy, marketing, and breakfast connoisseurship. I think I have developed lifelong friendships, but more importantly, I have been an individual who was made greater by a team. What a cool feeling.

There is a guy reading this post, over my shoulder, as I type it on a flight from Denver to Frankfurt – its OK man, I don’t care. In a few (7) hours I will be in Frankfurt, which is nowhere near my destination of Cape Town, South Africa. But someday I hope to eventually get there, with my cohort of EMBA students, and we will have the experience of a lifetime, while also operating at a greater capability than any of us are capable of individually.

I saw Kerry in the hall today, it’s been 18 months since I walked out of that training, “a changed man.” Well, Kerry, I am on the road to understanding what I now know I don’t know, thanks for the push and the gift of understanding.