Connect the Dots: Standing Tall

We all have heard the story about young George Washington being confronted by his father about a cherry tree that was cut down mysteriously. “I cannot tell a lie,” the lad said. “It was I.”

True or not, that story has taught a crucial lesson to generations of schoolchildren. Honesty, integrity and taking responsibility for one’s own actions lie at the heart of what makes a person worthy of respect – and what makes our country great.

This past Presidents’ Day, while thinking about old George, I pulled out a clipping I had saved from The Wall Street Journal a few weeks after the horrific 9/11 attacks. The article concerned Leslie Robertson, the principal engineer and architect of the World Trade Center, who was giving a speech titled “The Design, Construction and Collapse of the World Trade Center” before the National Council of Structural Engineers.

Robertson began his presentation by showing slides depicting the early construction of the World Trade Center in the 1970s – he showed prefabricated exterior panels being hoisted into place, with thousands of people actively at work on a remarkable idea that had no equal. As he spoke about those glorious days, the 73-year old architect was overcome by emotion. Then, fast-forwarding 30 years, he shared images of the unforgettable aftermath of devastation. Using a laser pointer, he highlighted the grim photos of Ground Zero – the exterior panels torn into jagged sections, twisted steel columns and towering piles of rubble.

During the question-and-answer period that followed, he was asked, “Mr. Robertson, is there anything you wish you had done differently in the design of the twin towers?”

“I wish I had made the towers stand up a little longer,” Mr. Robertson said. “I mean, every person was important. Everyone deserved a chance to get out.”

The collapse of the World Trade Center was caused by a group of terrorists using religion as a shield to justify murder.

Robertson was the architect of one of the greatest symbols of commerce that the world had ever seen. He could have insisted that its construction was flawless and had a perfect design, but he didn’t. He could have claimed that its collapse was not his fault and pointed the finger at those who truly deserved to be blamed for this cowardly act, but he didn’t. He could have maintained that the people in the towers indeed had enough time to get out (after all, the south tower stood for 47 minutes after impact, while the north tower stood for one hour and 40 minutes after impact), but he chose not to go the blame route.

He stood tall and declined to find fault with the state of the world. He refused to blame anybody else. He did something that very few seem willing to do – he took responsibility.

I don’t know if Robertson ever heard the tale about Washington as a child. I don’t know if there really was anything else Robertson could have done to make the towers stand longer. I do know that Robinson clearly showed what character and responsibility are all about that day during his speech. Responsibility is a verification of our belief in what we do. And it is in times of crisis that we show what we are made of.

The next time you find yourself in a difficult situation or have to explain a course of action gone wrong, remember Robertson. Own your work, accept your mistakes and avoid the blame game. The tower of your character will stand much longer.

Dr. Benjamin Ola. Akande is assistant chancellor of International Programs-Africa, director of Africa Initiative and associate director of the Global Health Center at Washington University in St. Louis. He is a former president of Westminster College and served as dean at the Walker School of Business & Technology at Webster University. He has a Ph.D. in economics.

Connect the Dots: A Lesson From Our Past

Last summer, St. Louis’ signature monument, the Gateway Arch, reopened following a three-year, $380 million renovation of its museum and grounds. As the region’s iconic landmark, the Arch solidifies our city’s place in American history and, for more than half a century, has stood as one of the nation’s shining examples of architectural and engineering ingenuity. As one of the first visitors to the newly reopened monument explained with pride, “It’s something we offer the nation and the world.”

For the millions of tourists who swarm the Arch grounds each year, the monument’s appeal is found in the way it transforms a simple curve into an awe-inspiring experience of place. The genius of the Arch is that it is both traditional and modern, disarmingly simple and extraordinarily complex, unadorned yet elegant.

At 630 feet high, it is the nation’s tallest monument, standing higher than the Washington Monument and twice the height of the Statue of Liberty. It tells the story of our past, stands as proof of our present capabilities and symbolizes future possibilities.

What the average visitor to the Arch may not realize, however, is that it was almost never built. Originally conceived by civic leaders in the early 1930s, it ran into opposition from residents who argued it would make more sense to spend the money on projects that had a more direct impact on the lives of the taxpayers. They were concerned with potholes being filled, more teachers being hired and additional fire stations being built. Certainly, these were all credible, and perhaps more practical, uses for taxpayer funds than a gleaming bended beam of stainless steel.

Fortunately, the visionaries persevered. Although it took more than 30 years and a collaboration among politicians, the federal government and civic leaders worked together with landowners, real estate agents and bankers to bring the project to fruition. Their commitment and perseverance gave us more than a monument to American culture and civilization; they left us a lesson that continues to resonate today.

Yesterday’s leaders saw beyond the perceived impracticalities of the project. They focused on the “whys” when everyone around them was giving them the “why-nots.” They saw the potential, set aside their differences and came together for the common good. The result was a magnificent edifice, which we are blessed to have right here in our backyard in St. Louis. As proof, we have only to look at the collaboration that made the recent revitalization of the Arch possible. Local, state and federal officials worked together, and local taxpayers even ponied up, because it was the right thing to do.

The lesson is clear: We must each find and fulfill our grandest vision for ourselves. Whatever our dreams may be, we must have an expansive mind, an inventive spirit, a tenacious grip and a brave heart. We cannot let anyone deter us from our chosen path.

Many will say, “Take the safer road, the tried and true, a comfortable alternative, one that carries with it health insurance and a 401(k) plan. Change is difficult and scary, so why take the chance?” But as we learned with the Arch, the status quo is not always the best way to go. Neither what worked yesterday or what exists today is often not the best solution for tomorrow.

Modern challenges require new ideas and bold thinking. Regardless of the issues we face – crime, health care, immigration, economic growth or whatever – we are capable of building a 21st-century Arch as long as we learn to trust one another, to listen, to share, to respect and to compromise.

There will be trying times, no doubt, but I promise you, the view will be worth it when you arrive at the top.

Dr. Benjamin Ola. Akande is assistant chancellor of International Programs-Africa, director of Africa Initiative and associate director of the Global Health Center at Washington University in St. Louis. He is a former president of Westminster College and served as dean at the Walker School of Business & Technology at Webster University. He has a Ph.D. in economics.

Connect the Dots: It's Time to Get Busy

Sooner or later, every person among us faces what seems like an impossible challenge: the loss of a job, the death of a family member or close friend, a business deal gone south. Often, the challenge arrives through no fault of one’s own, as more than 800,000 federal workers recently discovered.

At times like these, our true character gets tested. Do we retreat into a shell of self-pity and lost optimism? Do we lash out in hopes that blaming others will somehow make things right? Or do we accept that whatever tribulation has arisen forms just one more step on life’s journey and set ourselves on a path to a new, different and, hopefully, better future?

As the Bible tells us, “From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.” Nearly 20 years ago, I learned this lesson the hard way. During my annual physical, my doctor ran the usual battery of tests and informed me that everything seemed fine. A few days later, however, he called to inform me that my bloodwork had revealed a possible presence of cancer. The result was inconclusive, he said, and he needed to do more tests.

Like anyone who has ever received that kind of call, I was scared, confused and nervous. After all, I was only 38 years old, with a young wife and an even younger family. I was way too young to have cancer. I was emotionally too weak to walk. I fell apart and began to cry. Clearly, my life was over, and I couldn’t get any assurance from my doctor that everything would be all right.

I drove straight home and shared the terrible news with my wife. I remain forever grateful for her response. She grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me as if to drive the fear out of me. “It’s not over,” she said. “We’re going to beat this.”

And then she uttered the words that have stayed with me ever since: “You’re too scared to die. You’ve got much more to do. It’s going to be all right.”

Fortunately, the follow-up tests proved I was, in fact, cancer-free. But the experience has stayed with me, and I try to remember every day that we’re all here on earth for a relatively short time, and so it’s our obligation to try to make the best of that time. We cannot allow other people or other situations to dictate what our life should be like. The future belongs to those who can see it.

Life provides so many challenges – some good and some terrifying. It’s up to us to find the strength and the will to triumph over adversity. Don’t be afraid. Don’t stand still. Be bold and have courage. Live life fully by focusing on the important things – family, empowering others, lifting people up.

That’s exactly what I’ve been doing since that doctor’s visit 18 years ago. It took my wife to shake me out of my state of paralysis back then, but I’ve promised myself that I’ll never let tomorrow’s challenges deter me from the things that really matter.

As Tim Robbins’ character in The Shawshank Redemption, the classic 1994 movie, explained: “I guess it comes down to a simple choice, really. Get busy living or get busy dying.”

Whatever challenges may come your way, know that there are still those who love you and have your back. So take a deep breath – and get busy.

Dr. Benjamin Ola. Akande is the senior advisor to the chancellor and director of the Africa Initiative at Washington University in St. Louis, as well as former president of Westminster College in Fulton, Missouri. He has a Ph.D. in economics and previously served as dean of the George Herbert Walker School of Business & Technology at Webster University.

Connect the Dots: Change: the Familiar Versus the Future

In January, we celebrate the legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., who debunked the notion that change involving justice and equality must start at the top to take us all to the future.

Perhaps King’s greatest public statement came on Aug. 28, 1963, at Washington, D.C.’s Lincoln Memorial: his “I Have a Dream.” Deeply rooted in the American dream, King’s speech that day centered on change by extolling fundamental values, cultural tradition and personal conviction.

A testimonial to how change happens, that speech displayed emotion and powerfully depicted the value of moving people to action. For me, it still showcases the profound ability of one person to ignite a revolution through a message that speaks to change, a successful attempt to disrupt history through passion, not naked power.

In reality, though, change remains difficult because it generally sidelines comfort. It creates inconvenience, challenges the status quo, demands setting aside the conventional wisdom.

In The New York Times, U.S. political journalist/commentator Michael Kinsley once observed: “Americans say they want change, but there is room for doubt. Change is scary.” Kinsley found nothing contemptible about reluctance to change; he did, however, affirm that if we want only happy change, we really don’t want change at all.

The 20th-century civil rights movement called for a different kind of change, one that challenges people to rise above wrongs like racism and inequality. King used powerful rhetoric to depict that era and offered an alternative route to the future that people could recognize.

This century demands passion equal to King’s to convey an identical message focused on today’s issues – war, peace, the environment, access to necessities. America needs leadership with the vision to awaken change and create a new hope – the kind of change convincing enough that we can readily become part of it. Change must become more than just a word; it must become a covenant that begins and ends with you, and empowers people to team to ensure it happens.

King stood for change – transformative, compelling, a complete interruption in the thoughts and actions of the time. He sought the sort of change that moves people to a new plane, a synthesis to take this nation from ideas to ideals. Change demands the audacity to question what exists and what doesn’t work. King, in his day, succeeded because so many people saw themselves as enablers of change. Many, of course, had difficulty envisioning King’s change so he did what great leaders do – presented a glimpse of the future with his words.

Still, change embraces no real comfort. In fact, a general absence of comfort makes change so meaningful and rewarding when it’s attained.

As we celebrate King’s legacy, I charge area residents to reflect on the issues that have long divided us – race, crime, justice, education and that ever-elusive thing called trust – and to visualize a future we all want and need. That future will demand compromises, seeing things anew and willingly feeling uncomfortable. It also will demand the selflessness that change requires.

So how do you move people to embrace change? Try these three strategies:

• Appeal to a common purpose.

• Communicate expressively by giving life to the vision so people can see themselves in the future.

• Be sincere and believable through transparency and personal conviction.

It doesn’t matter where you’re trying to mobilize change. Whether at worship, in school, in politics or at work, these three strategies remain essential to manifest change.

The ultimate measure of change, of course, depends on whether America feels more comfortable with the familiar than with the future. Which will it be for you?

Dr. Benjamin Ola. Akande is the senior advisor to the chancellor and director of the Africa Initiative at Washington University in St. Louis, as well as former president of Westminster College in Fulton, Missouri. He has a Ph.D. in economics and previously served as dean of the George Herbert Walker School of Business & Technology at Webster University.

Connect the Dots: Seeking Dream-Makers

Thanksgiving marks a time for family and friends, a time to reflect on all we have and to give thanks for all the blessings we’ve been given.

On a broader scale, this can also be a time to dream about what can be – not just for ourselves, but for our community and society as a whole. In our routine-filled lives, we’ve become so accustomed to everyday duties that we’ve forgotten the integral mental exercise of dreaming. Dreaming allows us to transcend present circumstances and see a future of possibilities. Dreaming strengthens us to face today’s challenges and to push forward toward the promise of tomorrow.

So I must ask – where are all the dreamers?

A dream fulfilled can be a wonderful thing, but many of us don’t know how to dream. We dream too small. Often our dreams involve just us. We dream about professional growth, personal accomplishments – everything’s focused on what benefits us alone. But why? What about our obligation to the greater good of society?

If your dreams focus only on you, then you’re dreaming too small.

The metro area needs dream-weavers – visionaries who put themselves at risk to find and fulfill the potential of our community. We need dreamers dissatisfied with things as they are, dreamers who refuse to be mired in the present, dreamers who understand we’re here for a greater purpose.

During this time of thanks, I ask each of you to dream anew. I challenge you to dream how our community can be better off. The metro area needs, more than ever, individuals committed to the elevation of the greater good. How will your dreams help resolve the challenges we face in addressing crime, economic disparity, drug addiction? How will your dreams help make the metro area a better place to live and work?

Unfortunately, for many of us, dreaming ends when we wake. Although life’s demands may jar you from slumber, let your dreaming continue. I hope you will do your best dreaming while awake – for all of us.

Dr. Benjamin Ola. Akande is the senior advisor to the chancellor and director of the Africa Initiative at Washington University in St. Louis, as well as former president of Westminster College in Fulton, Missouri. He has a Ph.D. in economics and previously served as dean of the George Herbert Walker School of Business & Technology at Webster University.