My father is an engineer. I was raised learning how things
work and why things work. If something broke, we took it apart and fixed it. We
figured out how it was built, how it functioned and what went wrong to cause it
to break. We analyzed it.
I grew up playing team sports. I found myself always looking
ahead to the next possible play. I learned to analyze the game, the field, the
court, my opponents and my teammates. Ever played Mexican Train Dominoes? The
same concept applies.
I lay out my dominoes in a fashion that will allow me to play the greatest
number of dominoes the fastest and thus be out of dominoes first, leading to my
winning the game. I use the information I have to build upon previous lessons
learned and to further myself in whatever I come across. I found I always had
to have the data to back up my next move in life.
In my previous career, I worked for the philanthropy
department of two financial institutions. I administered multi-million dollar
foundations, reviewed grant applications and analyzed (there it is again) their
financials and their impact on our communities. I thrived on quantitative data.
I have reviewed thousands of grant applications, from
nonprofits that are doing absolutely phenomenal work. I aided in both the
approval and decline of these applications. My heart weighed heavy from some
decisions, but at the end of the day there is only so much money.
I found my battle, in the review of these applications, was
the deficiency in use of qualitative data. That, and the fact that I just cared
too damn much. I wished there were endless buckets of money to provide to these
programs. Our focus was on proven, sustainable programs. Those that had the
quantitative data to back up their request and could prove longevity of a program
via past results and future forecasts. Our use of the provided data was solid
and, understandably, essential to funding those programs that presented
themselves as the most viable and successful in their field.
Yet, I still struggled. I questioned how some organizations
could gather the necessary data we required to prove the impact of their
program. This was especially significant in the education field with the lack
of access to testing scores.
Two years ago I left that job. I worked part time for a
friend with a catering company, until I could get my coaching business up and running.
During this time I started coaching the kids at Daggett Middle School. It’s
where my heart is.
The point of everything I have written above, is that some
great things can’t be proven quantifiably. For the first year or so that we had
the Daggett Tri Club, I searched for ways to demonstrate the impact of the
triathlon club on the lives of the kids that were participating, through their
improvement in school and through testing scores. The philanthropic wheels in
my head were turning, searching for ways to collect data on our kids to prove
that we were having a lasting impact, in order to request funding for the
program.
We are lucky to have many community members and groups that
have adopted and supported our program without requiring hard data with proven statistical
results. Awhile back I came to the conclusion that the quantifiable data just
isn’t accessible. It’s there, but I may never be able to provide a spreadsheet
that proves this program is working.
If you come out and observe these kids, the qualitative data
will hit you in the forehead like a ton of bricks. You will witness them
helping one another, without being asked. If you come out on a regular
basis, you will experience a growth in these kids, over time, that will make
your heart smile. You won’t be able to explain it verbally, but you will know,
in your heart and in your mind, that these kids are growing into remarkable
young adults right before your eyes. These kids are the foundation of our next
generation.
You will observe one of our faster swimmers swimming an
extra lap with one of our slower swimmers, so he’s not the last one in the pool
after everyone else is done. You’ll see our kids running back up to the parking
lot at Benbrook to help our adult kayaker carry her kayak down. When they are
awarded candy in class for a correct answer, you’ll witness our Tri Club kids
sharing it with those who weren’t awarded any candy so that everyone gets some.
At races, you will see our faster kids patting their teammates on the back as
they pass them on the run. They’ll give a smile and an encouraging word and
then pick the pace back up and finish their race. They’ll grab their medal and
then they’ll head back out on the course to cheer on the remainder of their
teammates. If you work directly with their teachers, as I do, you’ll get texts
with pictures of math problems being solved with reference to run cadence. When
they are offered a treat in the store, you will find they come back with a loaf
of bread for their family, and not candy for themselves, because it’s what
their family needs. They will say “thank you” and when you hear it, you will
know it is said out of pure gratitude and not out of habit.
Making the difference... great read.
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