Three Men of Note

Sometimes I lose things. It's not an intentional habit, but it is a habit that has followed me to college.

Most times it's something trivial. A pack of gum, maybe a couple of note cards. Yesterday, however, I lost my press badge-- one of the things I loved to wear the most this summer, more than a freshly dry cleaned seers sucker suits, with a cane to match.

My initial reaction was upset. That press badge had been with me the entire summer, through lazy weekends and Tuesdays where I had to cover three stories in one day.

However, as I wrap up my last full week as a media employee at the University of Oklahoma, it seems fitting that I lose the press badge at this time. It's sort of a symbolic transition doo-hingy.

That being said, I would like to talk about three people who I met along the way in my journey of reporting for three different media venues consecutively— three men who each impacted me in their own unique way.

First man: Kyle Butcher, Couch Center Coordinator. Kyle has been a very busy man this summer-- on top of his normal duties with Housing and Food, he has been organizing and preparing to launch a new transfer student organization that he will be co-advising with his wife, Kacee.

Kyle and I crossed paths at the transfer session of Camp Crimson in June, and we immediately hit it off. Not only was Kyle an alumni from the same fraternity and chapter as I, but we have the same UZoo combination-- porpoise, eagle, lion, koala.

That last sentence likely makes no sense if you're not involved in student life at OU-- suffice it to say, we had a lot in common.

I got the opportunity to sit down with Kyle a few weeks later in his office to interview him for a story I was running on his new transfer organization, and we ended up talking for nearly two hours.

Kyle was a transfer student to OU, transferring from a much smaller university. He transitioned well into Sooner life-- as one might guess since he is now on the Sooner payroll-- but he's keenly aware of the difficulties that many transfer students face.

“We want transfer students to see all the university has to offer," Kyle says. "We don’t want them going to their classes, and then going straight back to their cars.”

 Kyle is just incredibly difficult not to like. He's one of those guys that you want to partner up with, get behind and say, "Whatever you're doing, I want to be a part of."

And apparently, I wasn't the only one who thought that.

Kristen Partridge and Zac Stevens, well known faces in the world of student life at OU, handpicked Kyle for this organization. They recognized that Kyle was equipped and passionate for the job at hand, and put him at the helm.

 "He will be a voice for students and their needs as well as someone who can give us data about how transfer students' experiences are unfolding at OU," Kristen says.

In sum, Kyle is a big man who’s going to be doing big things on the transfer scene—and I’m no fortune teller, but it’s not a stretch to say “future dean of students”.

Second Man: Henry Neeman,  Director of OU OSCER, a branch of OU IT. I sought Henry out because I was doing a story on the supercomputer Boomer, the fourth and newest supercomputer in OU's history. Henry and I only spoke briefly, thirty minutes at the most, in his office-- but the talk was memorable.

Whereas Kyle is the passionate man bringing change on the campus life scene, Henry is a catalyst of change for the research campus, a segment of OU that remains a mystery to many OU students.

The conversation started on-topic, but within ten minutes time we were simply talking about all things innovation and technology-- including the up and coming Google Glasses (which if you haven't seen, you need to. Now.) and as we progressed in our talk, it became clear to me that Henry was just a huge fan of OU.

“What it takes to constantly move forward with research is cooperation between the administration and research community – which OU is really good at," Henry says. "I'm constantly astonished, but never surprised."

There are many well-known passionate employees at the University of Oklahoma-- but many of them have their offices in the Union's student life wing. 

What made Henry extraordinary is that, despite the fact that he’s not at the heart of campus going-ons, he believes in the vision that President Boren has laid out for OU-- better yet, he's intent on inspiring and pushing his fellow employees.

"One thing I ask our researchers is 'if you had an infinitely fast computer, what would you do with it? It gets them thinking beyond today," Henry says. "I want them to dream bigger."

While it's men like Zac Stevens that orchestrate colossal programming achievements like Camp Crimson, it's men like Henry Neeman that can keep Sooner spirit alive on a cold, wet February Monday.

And that's a hard thing to do, folks. I've tried.

Third Man: The last man I'm going to talk about is as different from Henry as Henry was different from Kyle-- and he's arguably the bravest man on this list. Since I don't know the man incredibly well, we'll dub him by an alias. The last man I want to talk is "Jeff"-- Jeff the security guard.

I met Jeff at Camp Crimson’s Retro Night when I was a small group leader. I was out on the Molly Shi Ballroom balcony, taking a break from the 700 person rave that had broken out inside. I struck up casual conversation with Jeff because we were the only two outside.

I anticipated small talk. What I got, instead, was an incredible story.

Jeff, who is nearly 60 years old, has been working in security almost his entire life. When he was younger he had manned armored cars for banks, but after raising his children he decided to go into a security service company.

Jeff is the kind of man you have likely seen wearing a yellow vest on OU game days trying to direct traffic and keep order-- with no gun or badge, to add to the challenge. 

He's dealt with every yelling, screaming, drunk 40 year old alumni who tries to park where they can't park, and he gets treated like the absolute scum by most of them.

Not exactly the ideal career for someone pushing 60. But that's not all he had on his plate.

 Jeff is raising several of his grand-kids, the oldest of which is has a tendency to get hot-headed.

Jeff's solution? He got the 14-year old into football, and cut him a deal.

Jeff is in communication with his grandson's coach, and he watches most of the practices. Any time his grandson gets angry, talks back to his coach or acts out, he owes Jeff 10 push-ups when they get home.

However, whenever his grandson gets through a day with perfect behavior, Jeff owes his grandson 10 push-ups-- a bargain his grandson holds him to every time.

"We'll get home, and he'll just look at me, and say, 'uhh...grandpa, you owe me 10," Jeff says. "I tell him to go take a shower, and he says 'I will, just as soon as you drop and give me 10."

Again, not the ideal situation for a someone entering their golden years. I had to ask him, how did he handle raising his grandchildren like that at his age and hold a job? Being an OU campus life/leadership junkie, I reflexively expected to hear things like "I set a goal, and made steps on how to get there" or "I set an example of integrity that I expect them to follow."

 His answer wasn't long, but it held power in it.

"Someone's got to do right by them," says Jeff, "And if it's me that's got to do right by them, I'll do right by them.”

I don't know where Jeff is right now. I probably couldn't even pick him out on the street. But his story has been in the back of my head for nearly three weeks now. His story is so powerful to me because there isn't a higher cause, there isn't an end goal, and there isn't anyone helping him out.

He saw a problem, he got invested, and sought to right the issue—even if that meant taking on the role of a father at 60.

And while that's a story I never found an excuse to publish in the Sower, Daily, or Yearbook, I'm glad I can express it through this venue-- because Jeff's story is the one I wanted to share the most.

 However, I'm thankful for the time I spent in OU media.

I was exposed to many people and attitudes this summer, and not all of it was great, but it's people like Kyle Butcher, Henry Neeman, and Jeff the security guard that remind me of something-- 

There are good people in this community, who are doing great things, for the right reasons.

So in short-- thank you.

And as always, thank you for reading-- Boomer Sooner, and God Bless! 

Post-Camp: Lessons Taught, Lessons Learned

I can unarguably say that this weekend has been the most taxing, and rewarding, experience of my summer. Therefore, I'm blogging about it.

From July 10-14th, I was on staff as a small group leader at the University of Oklahoma's Camp Crimson experience. And I cannot think of a better introduction to this topic other than the job was everything it cracked up to be and much, much more.

On July 12th I got my campers. There was one thing I told them from the get go-

"Some of you may have been Sooner born, Sooner bred. Some of you, OU may not have been your first choice, second choice or even third. OU wasn't on the map for me until April of my senior year. I guarantee you though, that by the end of this camp you will fall in love with OU -- and I want to thank you ahead of time for letting me be a part of that journey."

Which, in retrospect, wasn't the right choice of words.

Camp is very different from the small group leader side – Camp Crimson’s standard of excitement, energy and enthusiasm is set by us. And we have to maintain that level of energy for nearly 50 hours straight.

With over 620 campers, not everyone there was immediately buying into what was going on -- people were nervous. College is a big transition. And Camp Crimson can be, at first, very intimidating.

Within the first 12 hours, I already felt like I was running on "E". I was drained, exhausted, and impatient. In my mind, if all 620+ of them weren't chanting Boomer Sooner 24/7 there was room for improvement (an exaggeration, but still).

 I was talking with other campers outside of my family, and I wanted to see more excitement than what I was getting, more energy, more enthusiasm --

To put it simply, I wanted everybody to have as hoarse a voice as me.

But then a perspective change hit.

James 1:2-4 came to mind near the end of the day. It goes a little something like this --

² Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters,^[a] whenever you face trials of many kinds, ³ because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. ⁴ Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.

 I stayed up for awhile thinking it through, trying to figure out how that applied to me.
That's when it hit me. It didn’t.

OU is great. I love OU, I want to get all that I can out of it in the three years I have left, and I want to encourage the class of 2016 to do the same. But OU, for students, is temporary. It's four years out of a full, healthy 80 years of life.

Right now, every incoming freshman is facing one of the biggest transitions of their life. It's big, it's scary, and it's a challenge that will force them to make some big, scary choices. The choices they make during their freshman year will influence the patterns of success and happiness for the rest of their adult life.

Dramatic, but for those of you who have been there, you know it's true.

My mission changed: I realized now that I was part of God's plan to equip these new Sooners with what they needed – which in most cases, was something more substantial than a new way to chant “Ellison”.

 It was no longer,

"What can I give my campers to prep them for OU?" but it was-

"What can I give my campers that will do them the best good?"

I realized I had answered my own question thirty minutes earlier, in the form of a late night tweet.

"You can't make someone love OU as much as you do. But you can love them, and that impacts their life in unprecedented ways. ‪#learningsomuch"

If any of my campers happen to be reading this blog, I want you to know this: I care about you. Not because of anything you said or did (though there were some very memorable moments with a few of you that are branded into my mind) but because I once had small group leaders too- and I know the impact they have. 

I think Zac Stevens nailed it during training when he said (and I paraphrase--)

"Some of your campers may get involved in organizations you're in. Some you may see a lot. Some may not respond to your emails. But to them, you will always be, firstly and fore-mostly, their small group leader."


As camp crimson progressed, the campers became as wild and pumped as I was -- they were all excited to be Sooners. One of my girls, Jenna Hinckfoot, said she was already gunning for a small group leader spot next year. And I'd like to think that's because of the impact I had on them in two short days.

And because of that, I want to be a part of your lives. There is so much I still want to teach you, but more importantly, there is so much I want to learn from you.

So, that being said, I would like to change the first words I said to my campers. Maybe they won't all be reading it, but you are -- and perhaps you can find something in in my words that God wanted you to find.

Some of you may be excited to be here. Some of you, this transition terrifies you, and you may be carrying baggage -- no one is coming in a clean slate, and that's okay. Baggage isn't a burden; it's a reminder of where we came from. I guarantee you though, that if you give this new experience a chance -- if you are intentional, seek out opportunity, and let nothing hold you back -- Camp Crimson, and this first year of college, will be the ride of your life. I can only hope I will be fortunate enough to be with you for at least part of your Sooner journey during the next four years.

And thank you, thank you, thank you for letting me be part of your journey these past few days. You've impacted me more than I can express through one blog post.

Thank you for letting me welcome you to your new home -- I think you all are going to like it here.

 Nathan Robertson


(p.s. -- Shout out to a camper by the name of Mark. I talked to you only in brief moments, but people were chanting your name all week, so you must be great. We're glad to have you here.)

Reflections Under a Firework-filled Sky

I'm an incredibly nostalgic person by nature, and holidays do nothing but intensify my desire to reflect on both the past and the future- Independence Day is no different.

Last night, on the 4th, I turned to my sister while watching fireworks and asked her if she remembered where she was at a year ago. She answered honestly.

"Probably watching fireworks."

I can't recall exactly what I did on July 4th, 2011, but I remember where I was at- not physically, but simply where I was at in life. I remember what I valued, what I struggled with, what made me passionate, and what I saw as important.

Looking back, I can see how far I have come in a full year. It make me all the more thankful for my freshman year, a journey that will always be remembered.

However, it would be boring if I only dwelt on the past. I also look towards the future, to where I'll be on July 4th, 2013.

I've had a seed planted in my mind since April now, and it's been growing. It started as a casual interest, a "what if", but now it's turned into something much larger. It's bold. It's big- it's Googley.

   


In the summer of 2013, I have a dream of being in Mountain View, California with Google on the Building Opportunities for Leadership and Development (BOLD) internship program.

Ideally I'd like to be placed in their Marketing and Communications department, but frankly, I'm not picky. It's California. It's Google.

Here's the catch though- like all things in life worth getting, it's going to be competitive out the whazoo. 

I'm going to be gunning against collegiate golden boys and golden girls from across the nation. Against people as ambitious, and FAR MORE ambitious than me. I'm going to be outclassed and outgunned, and it's going to be a miracle if I make it through the first round of interviews.

Which is why I've started preparing for the future now.

I began to hunt for recommendation letters two weeks ago- today I picked up my first from the far too gracious OU Vice President of Student Affairs/Dean of Students Clarke Stroud. I intend to collect on others in time.

More importantly though, I've begun to pray about it. After 19 years of living, I'm starting to catch on to the concept that my plan for the future may not always be the best plan for the future. So I'm praying.

 If this is where God wants me spending next Summer, I want him to fuel me, to push me farther than I think I can run and stretch me until it's painful so that I can become the man I need to be for what he has planned for that summer.

And if it's not what God wants, then I want him to shut the door. It'll be disappointing, but I've always managed to pick myself up. Regardless, I'm praying 'bout it.

If that's your thing, I'd appreciate it if you could too. I need it.

Because despite how much I tout my near 50 hour summer work week, dual minors and my professional demeanor and bla bla bla, I am still so very, very young- and gearing up for something like this will be one of the biggest mountains I've ever tackled.

But I'd rather tackle this mountain than sit at the base of it, complacent and wondering what could have been.

"Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize." 1 Corinthians 9:24

The race has begun. If God is in this, then carpe diem, and #Google2013