Courage is Local
In every town in America there are mementos that connect the community to courageous heroes from the past. In one town it might be a sacred display honoring fallen veterans. In another it might be a plaque designating the spot where the local hero was born.
I’ve gotten to see a good number of these vestiges of courage while traveling on business. I’ve stood solemnly at the gravesite memorial of Martin Luther King, Jr., in Atlanta, Georgia, right next to the Ebenezer Baptist church where he did most of his preaching. Off the coast of North Carolina, at Cape Fear, I’ve read a plaque that points to the spot where a ship perished. Closer to home, in my hometown of Asheville, I’ve read the plaque that honors Kiffin Rockwell, an ace fighter pilot from World War 1.
Last week I got to do something really special, and it definitely connects to the idea of courage. I attended an event at Pearl Harbor, on the USS Missouri, the battleship where the Empire of Japan surrendered at the end of World War II. Dubbed “Mighty Mo”, the ship fought at Iwo Jima and Okinawa, suffered a direct hit to her starboard side during a Kamikaze raid, and even served during Operation Desert Storm after being reactivated in 1991. This ship is practically a floating museum of courage.
The USS Missouri is only one courage remnant that locals on the Hawaiian island of Oahu can draw inspiration from. There are plenty of others, and not just at Pearl Harbor. As with most communities, big and small, there are artifacts that honor courageous people. While in Hawaii, I also saw a statue honoring Duke Paoa Kahanamoku, a five-time Olympic swimmer and the person most credited with populating the sport of surfing, and another paying homage to King Kamehameha, who conquered and unified the Hawaiian Islands and established the Kingdom of Hawaii.
Courage is easy to find if you make finding it your goal. I promise you that you won’t have to look very far. Just look for the plaques, gravesites, dedications, walls, and monuments in your own home town. When you realize how much courage surrounds you, it becomes easier to put your own courage to work.
Bill Treasurer is the originator of the new organizational development practice of courage-building. He is the author of Courageous Leadership: A Program for Using Courage to Transform the Workplace, an off-the-shelf training toolkit that organizations can use to build workplace courage. He is also the author of the internationally bestselling book, Courage Goes to Work. Bill has led courage-building workshops for, among others, NASA, Accenture, CNN, PNC Bank, SPANX, Hugo Boss, Saks Fifth Avenue, and the US Department of Veterans Affairs. Learn more at www.couragebuilding.com.
Looking Back for Forward Courage
Back in the 90s, and even today, when setting goals senior executives retread the same advice, “Begin with the end in mind!” It helps that they are grounding their advice on sound management principles, first proffered by Dr. Stephen Covey in his über-selling book, The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People.
But setting goals takes more than looking forward. It takes looking back. This is especially true when making personal goals that involve courage. Before beginning with the end in mind, it often helps to begin with the beginning in mind. Indeed, begin before the beginning.
When facing situations that require heavy doses of courage, one useful exercise is to think back to all of the people who have come before you that faced similar situations. Often the best advice about how to move forward can come from dead people. Yes, dead people! How? Answers often come by reflecting intensely on the advice that they would likely give you as you face your courage-challenging situation today.
I remember, for example, when I was deeply unhappy in a comfortable but spirit-squelching job. I longed to go out on my own and start my own business, but I had zero confidence. The risk of falling flat on my face, and suffering through all of the humiliation that would come with that failure, was just too high. At the same time, every day as I trudged to work, my soul felt like it was choking. Then a friend casually said something that got me thinking, “Well, it’s not like you’d be the first person to ever start a business.”
Offhandedly, my friend had jostled my head backward. I started thinking, “Who do I know that started a business?” The answer was obvious and very close to home. My granddad had started and owned a successful gas station in Pelham, NY. I have vivid memories of him dressed in his coveralls sorting receipts with his grease-stained hands. His Esso station thrived, and grandpa worked there right up until he retired and sold the business. It helped that the station was at a popular intersection on Pelham road. In fact, the station is still there, though now it’s an Exxon station.
My dead grandfather, and the business he took the risk to start, became a source of courage for me as I grappled with the decision as to whether to leave my high-paying but stifling job and strike out on my own. I kept thinking, “What advice would grandpa give me if he were alive today?” I knew in my heart that he would tell me to go for it.
So I did. And, because grandpa made the decision for me, it was one of the smartest decisions I never made.
How about you? What challenging situation are you facing today that is provoking your courage? Instead of looking forward, how might looking “before the beginning” help you progress? What advice would you likely get from the people you admire who are dead and buried?
