Walk to Wisdom:The Origin of "What did you learn?"

    Wisdom allows us to see what we would otherwise miss. It is a refinement of thought that is manifested in intentional action or stillness.  No one doubts the wisdom of America's forefathers, and most would say it was God given. But that was long ago. In today's busy world, where is wisdom? What does it look like? Where do we find it?
    Twenty five years ago, I had the amazing privilege of working for a man named Bill Starr. Until he began to struggle with dementia,Bill was the embodiment of wisdom - and even now I would venture to say he is still that. When I met Bill,he was in the later half of midlife. He isn't a whole lot taller than I am, but he seemed like a giant. He will joke about his lack of hair, just one way he is able to laugh with himself. Bill can captivate a room full of people in his first sentence. After 18 years of leading a large international youth organization, Bill "retired" and went to work for National Public Television. He was encouraged to move to Phoenix by good friends who are prominent businessmen in Phoenix, one of whose wife has mentored me for many years. She encouraged me to go to work for Bill after my daughter, Rachel, was born.
     And there I was. Little Debbie with big dreams and no direction, except the professional goals written upon graduating from college. Goals that were now farther away with the addition of a family. Goals that would one day be found written on a piece of paper and stuffed in the middle of the little white zipper Bible she'd had since childhood. Goals that when found would be rewritten to better reflect the change in priorities from money, success and power to God, family and a meaningful career.
     Soon after going to work for Bill, he decided to leave the affiliate with whom he was employed and start Southwest Leadership Foundation.  So there we were, the two of us.  The first thing Bill assigned me to do was review the rental contract for the office. Are you kidding? I wasn't a realtor or even a business manager. Up until that point in my life, I'd been a waitress, a reservations manager, a front desk clerk at a Hyatt and an editorial coordinator.  I knew NOTHING about leases. Nothing about estoppel rates, nothing about back loading, nothing about late fees or even square footage. And this was before Google Search.  Bill just said, "Let me know if you have questions."   A year later when we realized our rent was going up significantly because I didn't understand estoppel rates, Bill simply said, "Well, what did you learn?"  He didn't scream. He wasn't sarcastic. He didn't talk about the money we needed. He simply smiled and nodded as I told him what I had learned. What I had learned wasn't just about leasing terms but about people. Like don't trust everyone to be honest and give you a good deal because you are a charity and they are your friend. He smiled and nodded again. And then a few years later, he had me go look for a new office.
     Bill was a great man of God who embraced people of all faiths while never compromising his own beliefs - and they embraced him, too.  He grasped the concept of grace better than any human being I have ever known, and lived it. I always knew I was in for a life lesson when Bill would say, "oh Deb, bless you....." I learned quickly when I heard those words to sit up and listen closely. When Bill sent me off to St. Louis to plan a conference for 5,000 to 10,000 participants, I knew he had lost his mind. "But Bill," I said with a bit of panic in my voice,"I've never done something like this before." He smiled and responded, "you'll learn. You will be fine." What I learned from Bill is inked on the best of who I am today. In the management team of our organization, we joke that I am the "what did you learn" person, and our director of curriculum and instruction is our "what the hell were you thinking" person. It takes a village..... Bill taught me to take a chance on people. To accept people while not compromising my belief system. To be patient with myself and with others. To look up and point up. To laugh at myself. To dream big. To keep going when it's really, really tough. To stand in the gap for those who are under served. To realize that "out on the limb" is where I am supposed to be. And to enjoy a bold Cabernet with a cigar on the back porch as the sun sets on both the good days and the bad.