I don’t remember a whole lot about the specific lessons I learned in high school, but I do remember the Pythagorean Theorem.

The Pythagorean theorem is the one that provides an equation to calculate the longer side of a right triangle by summing the squares of the other two sides. Or written as an equation:  a² + b² = c².  My geometry teacher, like so many others over the past several centuries, challenged my class to come up with a proof. Maybe some of us tried, but none of us succeeded.

On Sunday evening “60 Minutes” featured a story about two high school girls who successfully solved the problem using trigonometry, something mathematicians had thought impossible. The media coverage of their accomplishment has been extensive.

When asked why people were so impressed, the girls responded, “because we’re African American… And we’re also women… oh, and our age.”

But these girls come from a very long line of barrier-breaking students who attend St. Mary’s Academy in New Orleans, a school that was founded on the premise that the girls who attend can accomplish anything.

The message the girls hear from the minute they walk through the door is that their potential is boundless.

This blog is not about math. It’s about capital E – Encouragement. I believe that a strong dose of encouragement significantly increases anyone’s chance of success, even when faced with serious setbacks or obstacles.

When we try to protect our children from Failure (the real “F” word) by not offering encouragement, we are paving the way to lack of success.  This is true not only for our children, but ourselves as well.  Perhaps the best way to avoid failure is simply not to try in the first place. But it is also the best way to never achieve any of your dreams and goals.  Ever.

Which is why I encourage parents and students everywhere to use Encouragement. It is a basic, and yet pivotal tool for success.

Why?  Because it works. Just look at the two high school students who solved a math problem that mathematicians thought was impossible for almost 2000 years.

They are my proof.

Alan

PS.  Additional proof.  Every student at St. Mary’s Academy in New Orleans over the past 19 years has graduated and been accepted to college.

When my father died unexpectedly (although at age 104 death is never entirely unexpected) my son Craig and his family were on vacation in Hawaii.  There were no direct flights to Los Angeles that would arrive in time for the morning funeral, so Craig arranged to fly back via Seattle. He showed up ten minutes before it began.

I call that, “being there.”  When it really counts, there is no substitute for showing up for those you love.

When I was young, I promised myself that I would personally attend all the important events in my Childrens’ lives.  Piano recitals, elementary school graduations, Father/Daughter Days – every single one.  My mother had set a wonderful example by always being there for me, and my dad was also there whenever it counted.

Perhaps today we are all busier than we were years ago.  We have many distractions, not the least of which is the cell phone.  I still remember the Dick Tracy comic strip in which I saw my first, fictional, two-way wrist radio.  “What a great idea that is,” I thought.  (Though of course, I never believed it would really happen.)

But, in the final analysis, we all exist on a human level.  We need talk, touch, and support to survive and prosper.  This is especially important for our children.

Last weekend I spent a beautiful Friday afternoon at a track meet where my 13-year-old grandson ran the 1,600-meter race.  On Sunday afternoon I attended a performance of the musical Urinetown, performed by another grandson’s high school drama department.  I still remember, almost fifty years ago, enjoying my daughter Jill’s performance as Vera in a Junior High School performance of Auntie Mame.  These are memories I treasure.

I’ve heard it said that when we look back on our lives, no one ever wishes they had spent more time at the office.  I certainly don’t.

Instead, in looking back, may we smile with delight as we relish the times we’ve spent doing what’s really important – simply being there.

Alan

This title is a quote attributed to the New York Yankees all-star catcher Yogi Berra.  I used to follow major league baseball, and I remember how ubiquitous that phrase became. It was repeated mostly when something happened in the game that was (unintentionally) funny and could be attributed to Yogi.

I’m quite familiar with stories being repeated.  My father had fifteen or twenty favorites that he told and retold throughout the last fifty years of his life.  But since I would remind him when he’d already told me the story, he learned to ask, “Have I told you the story about…” My answer was always the same.

“YES, Dad.”

Now the shoe is firmly on the other foot as I find myself facing a similar problem.  Over the past ten years, my friend Nancy has edited my blog.  Whenever I ask her if I’ve already written on a specific topic her answer is almost always, “YES.  Several times.”

Based on my history with my dad, I try to never tell the same story twice. That means that within my family my stories have a shelf life of no more than two weeks (or a single blog). By then everyone has either heard the story directly from me, or indirectly from someone else.  Fortunately, or not, Nancy has a better memory when it comes to what I’ve previously written than I do.  But I don’t remember writing about Déjà Vu All Over Again. Do you, Nancy? (If you’re reading this then you can assume she didn’t).

One author says that if he likes a book he’ll read it again. He always finds something interesting that he’d missed the first time around.  I seldom read a book twice, and I’ve seen very few movies more than once. One was Westside Story, although the second time was the remake, not the original.  I’ve seen the Musical Les Misérables more than five times – because it’s great.  Sad and funny, and I like both.

I’m reminded of the graduate student who confronted his economics professor before the final exam.

“It’s well known,” the student said, “that you’ve used the same exact final exam for the past twenty years.”

“That’s true,” the economics professor responded.  “The questions are the same.  But I always change the answers.”

In life the big problems seem to always be the same.  Let’s hope we all come up with our own “win-win” answers.

In my case, I may start with, “have I told you the story about…”

Alan