I learned just over a year ago about the passing of a mentor and friend, Travis Beck. I am greatly indebted to Travis for all he taught me.
I had the opportunity, this passed week, to meet with two of Travis’ former students and visit their labs at Oklahoma University and Oklahoma State University. I was there with two of my own student researchers who were presenting at an undergraduate research conference. The few days in Oklahoma got me to think about legacy. More specifically, my legacy. What am I paying forward?
I believe success—true success—can only be measured in the distant future. What kind of impact have I had on my student and colleagues? What kind of children have I raise? What will I be remembered for? Will I be remembered?
I can look back over my life and recount the many teachers, coaches, neighbors, colleagues, and friends who have had an impact on my life. I am the product of these. I am grateful for the affect they had on me.
Am I passing it forward? Often, I have doubts that I am.
As a college professor, I am very concerned with the benefits of “my” degree for the students who invest their time and money attending my classes. I had quite a few discussions with the students who accompanied me over the few days in Oklahoma about the real value of the degree and the opportunities that come with the degree. Surely, any degree is what the graduate makes of it. My desire is to lead students to the brightest possible futures. For many over the years, I have felt a part of their success as physicians, physician assistants, physical therapists, PhDs, etc., as well as top notch athletic trainers, strength & conditioning coaches, and leaders in the fitness profession. Sadly, as I reflected, I began to feel that the numbers diminish as the years have passed. In other words, I feel decreasingly effective. This bothers me. It bothers me a lot.
My friend, Travis, reminds me of the “coaching trees” that are often discussed among NFL football coaches. He came from a graduate program that has produced a significant number of researchers who have go on to affect even more researchers. The former students, with whom I visited, will undoubtedly carry on this tree and affect others who will spread the branches.
My tree is yet to be determined. Perhaps it is greater than I think. Perhaps I am not aware of the branches that are forming before my eyes. Perhaps my vision of “success” is wrong. Whatever the state of my tree, there is tomorrow. Each day is an opportunity to impact the life of someone (or lives of some ones). Yesterday has passed. Today, however, is an opening to be affective.
Carpe momento!