Herby Agnew
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​It’s Not “Goodbye” – Just a Different Type of “Hello!”

12/2/2019

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This holiday season markes a new chapter in my life – one without my maternal grandmother, Luvina Wilson Smith. To call her merely “special” would be an understatement in the gravest sense. She was a hero – the matriarch of our family, a trail blazer and pioneer for woman and people of color, and a profound example for all of mankind.
 
I met her during a bitter cold Rochester, NY winter in the early 1980s – so at birth. I got to spend more than thirty years getting to know her, learning her story, and relying on her as a wise sage and confidant in finding my way in the world. She nourished my body with the best southern cuisine in the galaxy and fed my soul with the most insightful and godly wisdom this side of heaven.
 
Perl’s career had taken on a unique trajectory around the time I was born. So, to help her reach the corner office while still being “mom” to my older sister and I, Luvina, my mom’s mom, stepped in to fill in any of the gaps. From birth to about 4 years old, I only ate what Grandma fed me, I only watched TV with Grandma (mostly the news, the soaps, and cartoons – of course), and I only “went potty” with her or my aunt Nee-Nee nearby. We were inseparable!
 
By the time I started finally walking, Grandma had already developed debilitating arthritis. Despite her overwhelming pain, she wouldn’t complain and would only let on that she was hurting when climbing stairs or doing rather strenuous activities. Grandma would let out a soft and almost inaudible sound of distress: “Oy!” I would mimic her going up stairs and she’d laugh. I inadvertently got my nickname, “Buddy,” from her as a result of me always being in toe, going up and down the steep stairs of 96 Enterprise Street, the then family homestead in Rochester, NY.
 
But before she was my Grandmother, Luvina W. Smith was Luvina Wilson – a brilliant young girl of West Indy descent who was born in 1928 and lived on a farm in Williamsburg County, South Carolina. She was the eldest of 6 children, and in helping with the daily rearing of her younger siblings and the functions of farm management, learned to read at a very early age. Luvina placed orders for clothes, farm equipment, and all manner of household and farm supplies from the Sears & Roebuck Catalog. She would help keep track of everything on the farm – from the house to the barn, and she learned to cook. Noticing her talent, her parents sent her to an all girls’ boarding school in the nearby town of Kingstree, SC. Grandma once took me to the site of the school house where her intellectual curiosity was both encouraged and nourished. “It was segregated, of course,” she told me. “But we didn’t know to wonder what white kids were learning. I just thought they were suffering through composition as much as we were, too…”
 
Luvina’s love for learning would be one that she passed on to her progeny. Grandma would read the newspaper religiously and couldn’t resist a good crossword puzzle. “You have to keep your mind active,” she would tell me on visits to her house in my teens. I loved picking up articles or books she had laying around and seeing where she’d underlined a word she didn’t know or thought was improperly used. Her Bible was chocked full of her personal notes, thoughts, and questions in the margins. Her view of the world was unique: a cross between Godly reverence, the golden rule, and an overwhelming pursuit of equality and justice.
 
Grandma was active in her community and church. She taught her family the importance of civic engagement and servant leadership in her everyday life. From church governance to the county ballot box, Luvina stressed the importance of everyone’s voice being heard. She made it a point to encourage others to get involved and be well informed. Grandma once expressed the importance of knowing what issues were on the ballot by telling me, “Well, they could legalize slavery and if you don’t vote against it then, well… you just put the chains back on your own self!”  
 
I know if she were here today, she’d laugh and call me “a little parakeet” at recanting almost verbatim her words of wisdom. Yes, Grandma – I listened to every word you said and will miss your encouraging and timeless logic. I’ll miss our Sunday evening chats, but I’ll remember how your history made my present and future possible. You will live on in your children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, and for generations to come. And we will work to continue to be your pride and your joy!

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Her Name is Perl - But I Call Mom!

5/12/2018

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Her name is Perl, spelled P. E. R. L., short for Perleatha; but just because there isn’t an “A” in her name, doesn’t make my mother any less of a precious jewel. People like her are rare - and  when a name alone elicits respect, reverence, and at times a bit of awe and wonder, it’s an honor just to be called her son. 

The earliest memories of my mom were both simple and complex, vivid and vague - eliciting olfactory and visual elements. I guess if I was forced to sum up a 3-year-old’s perception of my mom, I’d say it would be “moon goddess.” She still smells of lilies, is always adorned with sparkly things, and has the ability to make the darkest of nights seem less scary. 

Like many moms of the 80’s, Perl was a working mom. Despite a demanding career in the travel industry, she never seemed to miss being “mom” to my older sister Tiffany and me, and never missed out on being “wife” to my dad. I once overheard her tell someone, “It’s not really hard - just time consuming - but I’m consumed by my purpose as both a wife and mother… knowing who you are and whose you are helps dictate that purpose…” It wasn’t until I grew up that I understood what she meant - and I’m still learning just how loaded that statement is and was. 

I’ve asked her on many occasions if she thinks of herself as a feminist. She always laughs and says, “Well, I think I missed the movement - and now I have way too many heels to classify as a ‘bra burner,’ Herby.” Though she may not be your classic idea of a feminist, she represents the type of person who has made it possible for woman like Stacey Abrams and Elizabeth Warren to be taken seriously as leaders - heels and all. Perl has that kind of immense strength and illusive vulnerability that commands attention, elicits compliance, and reassures empathy. 

She’s one part Anna Wintour, one part Oprah Winfrey, and one part Clair Huxtable - the perfect combination of a total badass. Perl has high standards - and some may say these standards might even be insurmountable. Perl is a shrewd business woman - and admonishes her charges to “never make a bad deal.” Perl is the consummate mother - and worries about providing the littlest details when helping anyone in need.  

I could go on and on about Perl, but if you’ve never met her in person, there’s really no way to describe her elegance, presence, and visage that would do her justice. Nevertheless, you can see how she’d be considered as the rock or corner stone of any group - especially her family. Nothing can be a better example of her fortitude than how she recently handled a health scare. In a regularly scheduled checkup, her doctors found a “non-benign tumor” in her breast. She waited until a week before her surgery to tell me - and even then refused to refer to the mass as cancer. “I’m not giving it any power by calling it by name,” she said. “And I prefer you not either!” 

Her instructions were VERY explicit and overtly clear: 
- Pray that others will see the manifestation of His grace
- Stay focused on your prime objective (and don't let this be a distraction) 
- Only share with believers who have outlandish faith (because they'll be the ones to remind you that while we respect medical advice, we ultimately trust the Creator)

She told me I had a maximum of fifteen (15) minutes to cry, scream, ask random and probing questions about her health, and then it was to be back to business as usual. She said that she was only inclined to inform certain people and mentioned two woman ministers at my church she felt comfortable praying with her. 

Two weeks after her surgery, Perl was back to work and slowly resuming her regular activities. I can only imagine that she was scared, but she didn’t let on. I can only say this was the darkest of nights for me - to be helpless and completely unable to fix whatever was wrong with one of my heroes. I called her everyday during her two week “downtime.” I thought I’d do my best to lift her sprits and encourage her. It never failed that she’d be the one encouraging me - helping me through her dark night - and NEVER ceasing to be a reflection of God’s grace and light. 
 
Just when I thought I had learned everything there was to know from my mom, Perl continues to have yet one more lesson to teach. And just when I thought I knew the immense capacity of her strength, she performs yet another amazing feat of heroism. Yes, The Book of Perl: The Wisdom Only a Mom Can Teach is forthcoming. There’s just too much wisdom to share in a mere Mother’s Day tribute blog post. But until then, someone will just have to read this little note to her. 

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom! You’ll always be my moon goddess. ​

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What Do I Tell Carson?

9/29/2016

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​I’d like to give a great big shout out to Hanau, Germany. It’s not only the birthplace of the Grimm brothers it’s the place I called home during the formative years of my life. While most Germans don’t think of their nation as being kid-friendly at all, Germany as a whole actually has deep-seeded love for children. Nevertheless, despite the overall German modesty when it comes to their treatment of children and those needing protection, I grew up feeling safe. My being the only American and the only person of color in my schools from kindergarten through the sixth grade never felt odd or uncomfortable for me. It wasn’t until I moved back to the United States of America, my birthplace and the country of which I’m a natural born citizen, did I ever feel like an “other” or devalued because I wasn’t born a White Anglo-Saxon Protestant American. It’s sad to admit that the country responsible for the holocaust actually welcomed, protected, and nurtured me – a black boy. Granted, had it been 1942 instead of 1986 – I might have been treated a lot differently. Even so, it took Germany only 4 decades to do what America has failed to do in 200 years – the systematic eradicating of deep seeded hatred.
 
Today, in 2016, I’m pretty much at a loss for words when it comes to trying to sort the seemingly unconscionable acts of late. For the past several weeks, my family has literally been in a panic regarding my safety. My father, who is not only prior military but continues to work for the Department of Defense as a military inelegance instructor, sends text messages every day and calls at least 3 times a week – just to make sure that no “incidences of concern” have happened on my daily commute to work. And while the pandemonium of the recent shootings has simmered, the intensity of race relations continues to make the schism between black and white America even wider. All this leaves me with this one question: What do I tell Carson?
 
Carson is my 7-year-old nephew who, like many boys his age, is just as rambunctious and curious as they come. His parents are two of the most amazingly brilliant and God-fearing people I’ve ever known. I’ve never seen two more dutiful and exceptional examples of parenting outside of my own parents than Tony and Gwen Alexander. Carson is the only boy of Tony and Gwen’s three children; hence, you can see where the pressure to be the little man of the house might come into play. So I always thought I’d be the “fun” uncle and get to tell him how to “charm” his way out of punishment, use logic to circumvent some of his dad’s rules, and of course give him his first sip of Kool-Aid. (Just as an FYI, my big bro and sis are ruthless when it comes to monitoring this kid’s sugar intake – so I had to do something fun for the little guy…)  But never would I have imaged that I’d be contemplating how to someday talk to him about being in the skin he’s in and how to navigate living in America – knowing that he’ll be treated differently because of his gender and ethnic heritage.
 
So for the time being, I’ve resigned myself to taking a more “faith-biased” approach to what I’ll tell Carson. Instead of harping on what is, I’ll tell him what should be. I’ll tell him that “by the time you’re in college, you won’t have to worry about being treated differently because your skin is brown.” I’ll tell him that “when you enter the work force, it’s not going to matter if you’re one of many or one of none who look like you.” I’ll tell him that the only colors that will matter to his generation and those that will follow him in America will be those of the American flag: red for the vigor in our pursuit of justice, white for the purity in our endeavor to help others, and blue for the earnest nature of our duty to mankind. 

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​Awesome Stuff I Learned from E. Hines

7/12/2016

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This post is both a thank you and reminder to a pretty dynamic woman. Elisabeth S. Hines (or simply E. as I call her) was a colleague of mine at my first "big boy" job out of college. I was young, stupid, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. While E. had been doing that line of work for longer than I had been alive, she and my supervisor took me under their wings - giving me just enough space to discover my own ability to soar. While she hadn't indented to be "like a mom" to me, she ended up being just that (but in the coolest and most benign way that only E. can).

Today is her daughter's birthday. And it's no surprise that the amazing E. gave birth to the amazing Morgan. Today, in honor of Morgan, I wanted to share some "motherly" things I learned from E.   

 ​Awesome Stuff I Learned from E. Hines
  1. The skin test. Everyday stuff happens that would break the average person… but if you’re not average, grow rhinoceros skin and keep on trucking. Otherwise, you're probably in the wrong profession.
  2. Ego check. People will take credit for your ideas all the time if a) they’re good, and b) worth doing. At some point, you have to stand up for yourself – but in the meantime, if you’re working for the greater good, it doesn’t matter who gets the credit as long as the work gets done.
  3. Relationships work. It may be a lost art, but building a relationship with colleagues and clients only helps improve the quality of the work you do.
  4. True friendship supersedes niceness. Folks will call themselves your friends, but if they aren’t willing to be brutally honest with you (in a loving way), they’re just acquaintances. The sooner you know that, the sooner you’ll figure out who to trust.
 
E., all those times I sat in your office, on your back porch, in your living room, or at Aubri Lanes – I was listening, paying attention, and taking it all in. I think I turned out ok, don’t ya think? (Don't answer that question, E.! LOL) So on behalf of Morgan and all of the people you’ve mentored over the years, thanks for being one hell of a woman, Elizabeth. And a special thanks to Morgan for letting everyone "borrow" her mom on occasion. Regardless of distance, you'll always be Morgan's mom, Isha's grandma, and a great friend to all of us who love you! 

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Why Every Teacher Should Be on LinkedIn

2/22/2016

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​We all have a limited capacity and a finite tolerance for some of the social media garbage that seems to plague the streams of various social platforms. Someone’s choice to be completely off the social grid is both personal and admirable. You may choose to not have a Facebook profile or even a Twitter handle; but, if you’re an educator, not having a LinkedIn profile is inadvertently precipitating the issue of why teachers aren’t considered professionals. The absenteeism of educators on the LinkedIn platform has given way to an even more callous attitude towards an already disenfranchised industry.

You’re at a wedding, a cocktail party, or even a church service and you’re inevitably going to find yourself discussing work, what you do, and/or how long you’ve been doing such. If you’re a teacher you more than likely will get the canned, and albeit feigned, apologetic response from people who believe their vocation to be of higher value than education: “Oh, you’re a teacher. Well, I’m sorry…” They are right to apologize; however, not for reasons of being better but rather for being part of an illogical societal problem in which teachers are denigrated for their chosen profession.

Nevertheless, without educators, we’d have no other professionals. Pro-athletes certainly have their PE teachers and school sports coaches to thank. Physicians of any and all kinds are indebted to their science teachers. And had it not been for social studies teachers, history teachers, English teachers, and civics teachers, highly-paid attorneys wouldn’t have made it through the first-year of law school.

While you may not get the respect you deserve as an educator, you do have the power to remedy this fallacy, one LinkedIn profile at a time. In most cases, people outside the education profession fail to legitimize the vocation because they are unaware of the credentials and experience one has to obtain in order to be an education practitioner. They don’t know that states require certification.

LinkedIn is the perfect place where you can not only highlight your career success and achievement, but also where you acknowledge your education, training, certification, credentials, and awards. When it comes to thought-leadership regarding any professional topic, LinkedIn is a likely place where the discussions are taking place. You can join various groups or form your own in which you can start conversations regarding topics important to the education practitioner.

It’s time for educators to start getting the credit they deserve as professionals. However, the legislator who’s making laws about your salary isn’t going to wake up tomorrow morning and say, “Oh, ya know I really think I should start paying more respect to teachers today…” That would be great, sure – but the fact of the matter is you as an educator have to reeducate society on the legitimacy of your professionalism. Set up your LinkedIn profile today and if you already have a LinkedIn profile, take the time to update it right now. Changing the way the public thinks of your chosen profession starts today and starts with you.

Follow GAE on LinkedIn: http://bit.ly/1R6oQHz

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Why the lunch lady isn't "just a lunch lady"

2/18/2015

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When I attended Kindergarten (and the first few years of grade school) Helga was the name of my lunch lady who served some of the best German cuisine you’d ever have tasted this side of the Rhine River. She did so dutifully every single day. On days when I missed lunch due to a doctor’s appointment or some other reason, Helga would keep a plate of food warm just for me. I’d sit at a table in the kitchen and scarf down potatoes and wurst while she cleaned up from a day of cooking. She’d ask: “What did you learn today?” And without realizing it, I’d recount almost an entire day’s worth of learning. Our chats would make me ready to do homework – even for the more challenging subjects. Little did I know – she’d do that for all the kids who’d missed a meal and would encourage each student to do his or her best in whatever subject they were weakest. You can’t tell me that Helga was “just a lunch lady” – she was more like a superhero, able to inspire a student one plate at a time. 

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The Things I've Come to Know in The Past 33 Years...

12/16/2014

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In less than a week I will be turning yet another year older. To say I’m grateful to see another year go by would be an understatement and reeks of a banal platitude – and we all know Herby is nothing if not original. Nevertheless, I’m stoked to be alive – especially knowing the many times I almost didn’t make it. Every year, my mom (the infamous Perl, AKA the black version of Anna Wintour) never fails to some how sneak the story that recalls the circumstances of my birth into a casual conversation. The abbreviated version: It was cold and snowing, and a simple checkup at the doctor’s offices turned into a nearly 3 month early birth.  

That story always segues into my inability to walk until I was almost 3 and the exploratory surgery that would have permanently paralyzed me had my parents subjected me to it. And Perl never forgets to add in the part where “the doctors told your father and me that we’d be ‘lucky’ if you made it to 6 or 7 and that you’d probably be a vegetable… but look at God’s miracle…”

Perl and Herb never believed in luck, but rather a higher power (God); they also taught their children to believe in the same. It’s the belief in this higher power that’s kept me alive for over 3 decades. In the past 6 years alone, I have had 3 close encounters with death linked to my random allergies – so, it would be callous of me to think of the outcomes of these ordeals as anything less than divine intervention. But if I should die on or before my birthday, I wouldn’t have walked this earth without having gleaned any wisdom.

Here are just 33 examples of the lessons, facts, and whatchamajigs I’ve come to know while I’ve been on earth:

The Top 33 Life Lessons, Facts, & Whatchamajigs

1. Trashy people are trashy people and do trashy things! Never expect of someone more than they themselves are capable of achieving. This fact alone will save you so much time…

2. Never miss out on a chance to tell some you love the words “you might need to brush your teeth…” If you really love some one, you’re obligated to tell them the truth – and that includes telling them that they stink when they stink, and that you love them when they need to hear it most. 

3. Don’t hide or squelch your own fabulousness for the sake of others. This does not give you a license to be arrogant or condescending; however, your gift will make room for itself – so get out of its way and let yourself shine. 

4. Do unto others as Jesus would do unto you! Yeah, I know the golden rule says to treat people the way you want to be treated, but there’s a lot of masochistic people out there who are pretty much ok with being treated like garbage. So treat people the way Jesus would treat you – with patience, kindness, love and understanding. 

5. Take care of yourself! No really, you have to take good care of yourself because that’s the one thing you’ve been given for which you are entirely responsible. You cannot take care of anything at all if you yourself are empty, unfulfilled, and dying. 

6. Pray often! Even if you don’t believe in the power of prayer or the existence of a higher being, still pray. Why? Prayer is a rather powerful tool in that while you pray and express the details of your situation, you actually get to hear yourself talk it out. Often times your prayers have already been answered with the grace and intuition you already have. 

7. Get a Bluetooth or a hands free device in your car if you’re going to talk on the phone while driving!!!! (And that should almost be the 11th commandment right there…) 

8. Don’t take people for granted!

9. The loss of life is not the loss of relationship. Even in death, the people we miss and mourn still play a huge part in our lives. Realize the part they played in your life while living and allow what you learned from them to live on through you. 



10. Buy nice shoes! Make sure they’re comfortable, too, though. Nothing’s worse than looking sharp while being in immense pain…

11. Know the rules before you decide to break them.

12. Keep your business to yourself and don’t trust just anyone with something that only God should know about you…

13. God’s grace is sufficient! 

14. Wear your clothes and don’t let them wear you! 

15. NEVER over pay for things! There’s always a sale somewhere on something you want. Be patient and wait a month to see if your dream item goes on sale.  

16. Put Mr. & Mrs. Common Sense in charge of your daily dealings. It’s rather enlightening how much can be accomplished just be using common sense. 

17. Take walks as much as possible. 

18. Allow yourself to be completely stupid for at least one hour a month. Don’t leave the house and expose the rest of the world to your dumbness, but relaxing and not thinking too hard on life’s issues allows you to recharge and value your own intelligence. 

19. Never breakup with someone via text! It not only makes you look gauche and cowardly, it’s also downright disrespectful to the other person and devalues the time you wasted for the both of you. Be responsible and at least make a phone call if you can’t be adult enough to face someone. 

20. Learn how to tie a bow tie. It comes in handy. 

21. Respect other people’s time. That goes for professional, personal, and romantic relationships. 

22. Travel when ever possible. Exposure to new surroundings not only broadens your outlook, it does wonders for conversations. 

23. Don’t talk on your cell phone in a store or restaurant if you failed to master the art of using your “inside voice” in kindergarten. I really don’t want to hear your conversation… 
 


24. Understand that everything is temporary – the good, the bad, the ugly, and the painful really just last for a season. 

25. Learn to know when a season has passed. 

26. It’s ok to be completely selfish at times – just don’t get too comfortable and know that you will get called out on it if you keep being a prick about it…

27. Earlobes are cool.

28. Know your body and get checked out frequently by a physician. 

29. Don’t gossip! It’s tacky and really doesn’t help to make matters better. 

30. Learn the art of compromise and know that it does not mean you change your values – it just means you understand how to live with people who think differently than you. 

31. Make time for reflection! It’s important to know what you know and assess what you’ve learned in a given period. Thanks to one of my major professors, I spend the holiday season in reflection of my accomplishments, mistakes, victories, and missed opportunities to assess where I’m going. (Thanks Dr. Jan Flynn!!!)

32. Don’t procrastinate! While it might be easier to just put of to tomorrow what you can do today, the truth of the matter is you rarely will do it later. Procrastination is the antitheist of progress and kills opportunities. 

33. Be you, do you, and be unapologetic about it! Develop a personal style that reflects your brand. Live life according to how you want to be remembered – and don’t make excuses.  
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My Belated Valentine to Dad

6/13/2014

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I can’t say that I have a father like any other.  Most people talk about their fathers in rather daunting terms.  So, I tend to decline offering up my accounts of my childhood and my father when people begin damning their parents.  But I don’t really have a thing to be ashamed about. My dad was, is, and will remain an amazing man, a great father, and a quite force that has helped me become the person I am today.

Growing up, my dad wasn’t always physically in the house due to his career – but he was never absent and seemed ubiquitous when it came to being “there” for his family. Even events as simple as bedtime stories were never missed just because of a TDY (temporary change of duty station) assignment took him out of the house for a few months.  During a resent move I found cassette tapes with the titles of fairy tales and bible stories on them. I managed to listen to a few seconds of one that hadn’t fully been destroyed by years of neglect and dust. Dad’s voice: “Hey little man, here’s where you dozed off last time….” Even though I’m a thirty-year-old man, I still wanted to hear him finish reading Rapunzel. Sadly, the tape was no longer audible (as were the rest of the tapes) after that point. Nevertheless, my memory took me back to the years when dad would give each character his/her own voice.  Magically, the characters would always have their same respective voices every time he read the story.  (How in the world he ever kept up with all that remains a mystery…)

There, he taught me to let my imagination soar and encouraged me to unashamedly be as creative as I wanted to be. I even created characters of my own that had personalities and backstories unique to each character. One in particular was a mad German physicist named “Herr Doctor Dootelwisch.” I would walk around the house with a crazed German accent, a bathrobe as lab coat, a pair of dad’s military safety goggles and pretend to mix bubble bath and all kinds of stuff as my potions to blow up the bad kitties. (Yeah, I was allergic to cats even at that age.) My mother would shake her head and say, “Herb, something ain’t right about that boy…” To that, dad would answer, “You’re right Perl, he’s missing some gloves for lab safety……………and to complete the look!”  

I once asked my dad what he wanted me to be when I grew up.  I wondered if he wanted me to follow his footsteps into the electronics field or even go into the Army like he did.  He answered, “You’re smart enough to be whatever you want to be. You can be a doctor, a toy storeowner, or even a mad scientist. But I want you to grow up to be a happy Herby. That would make me happy….”

Herb Sr. never once showed a judgmental bone in his body.  He taught me that each person you meet gets an “A”.  “You allow them to prove themselves as anything less than an ‘A’ grade person. Trust me, it won’t take an ‘F-’ grade person to show you his/her true grade.  But you got to give everyone a fair shot!” Over the years dad has gone from being the strongest man I know, to the coolest guy I know, to the smartest guy I know, to the wisest guy I know. And it never changes, though now we tend to spend time enjoying jazz music together rather than reading bed time stories. I’m so blessed to have come to know him as much more than just a father – he’s also a great friend and confidant. And when all seems wrong in the world and every person I know has failed to meet the basic human expectations of decent interaction – there he is – a shining example of all things right, a beacon of hope in a sea of mucky ‘F-’ grade people.  I’m sure he has his faults and I imagine that he’s had his moments of less-than-perfect behavior. But to me, he remains my constant that restores my faith in humanity and helps me abandon my distrust in Christianity.

So, here’s my belated valentine to my unsung hero – my dad, Herbert A. Agnew, Sr.

Thanks for teaching me that imagination isn’t crazy, that all people aren’t evil, and that love has no barriers and knows no boundaries.
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Germish - why the battle between two languages lives on in my head

11/7/2012

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Most people find it hard to believe that I speak another language other than English. So the fact that I think and dream in any other language (aside from what people assume to be my native tongue) might seem a bit far-fetched as well. Nevertheless, my daily life consists of constant internal translations to which I've grown accustomed since the tender age of six (6). It's somewhat like having a UN Translator in my ear on a consistent basis.

Although my first words were uttered in English, I learned to read and write in German long before learning my "ABCs" in my parents’ language. Despite my American heritage, I was blessed to have grown up in Germany, where I not only attended school, but also adapted to the German culture.  Upon moving abroad, my mother began working as a local national in the bustling travel industry in Deutschland.  This afforded her complete German benefits, including access to the education system for her children. Because every DoD (Department of Defense) daycare was at max capacity when we arrived , my parents thought to enroll me in German daycare as a temporary solution for childcare.  They never intended for me to stay in German school – it just sort of happened. And before mom and dad knew it, a letter from the school district, translated into English by the kindergarten director, came home with me in my Mickey Mouse back pack.  The letter informed them that Herby was ready for the first grade. I was only five at the time, but I remember the conversation with my parents pretty well:

     Mom: Herby, they say that you’re ready to go to school now.
     Herby: But I already go to schule, mommy!
     Dad: No, this will be first grade. You’ll be going to big kid school like your sister.
     Herby: Oh, will Danny be there, too?
     Mom: Well, that’s what we need to know. Do you want to go to school with all German 
     children or do you want to go to school with American children?
     Herby: I want to go to school with Danny and Tim and Sven and Alex and Daniel and    
     Anna and Kirstin

By the end of the rather brief discussion, the matter was settled – I was going to attend school with my friends. My parents couldn't bear the thought of pulling me away from my friends, my only sense of normalcy, despite how rather abnormal it may have seemed for a Black American to attend German school. I was always allowed to flow between English and German when at home, using my sister as the occasional translator. At school, everything was German, and before long, my passive engagement with the English language turned into fragments of conversational phrases used to interact with American family and friends. 

I would not learn to read English until the 5th grade, when I began learning British English as my first foreign language.  By then, German phonics had taken the dominant position as “default” setting. But, as it is pretty common with Military families, by the end of my 5th grade year, it was time to move back to the states. With less than a full year of English studies, my family relocated to North Carolina, where I would attend an English speaking school for the first time. The good news: I was at least 2-3 years ahead of my new American classmates in Math and Science. The bad news: I couldn't spell or read English without reverting to my default setting – German.

Although many people tend to think of German as a harsh sounding language, it happens to be rather straightforward and matter-of-fact when spelled and/or read aloud. For example, if you ask a German to spell something, they usually just say the word slower. The way it sounds is the way it is spelled (with only a hand full of exceptions). When asked to spell ‘chair’, I would incorrectly write the word as ‘cher’ without giving it even a second thought. Needless to say, my American teachers were rather perplexed with my spelling deficiency.  By the end of the school year, I think most teachers had written me off as either dyslexic or completely ignorant.

It wasn't until the 7th grade that a teacher figured out the "Herby Conundrum". Mrs. Trevor, a petite but feisty Math and Language Arts teacher, had the distinct pleasure of having me in her class three times a day: Homeroom, Math, and Language Arts. She first noticed that I did things a bit differently when I was asked to solve a multiplication problem on the board. At first, Mrs. Trevor thought I was going about solving the problem incorrectly. However, after I managed to prove that multiplying straight across was not only effective but also space saving, she seemed to lighten up. After class she wanted to know who in the US taught me to do Math that way. I politely told her, “I didn't learn Math here – I learned it in Germany.” That’s when things began to change!

Unbeknownst to me, Mrs. Trevor met with her fellow team teachers and compared my spelling test to a German text and to the work of a German foreign exchange student (whom they asked to write down a list of English words using German phonics). “I know you've been having trouble with your spelling, Herby, but now I know why,” explained Mrs. Trevor. “You’re not wrong, you’re just not thinking in English…” The rest of the year, the kind teachers at Albrightton Jr. High School worked to help me understand English phonics. By the following semester, I was in Honors English and won a writing competition for a short story.

I’ll be forever grateful to those great educators for helping me cope with being bilingual. Despite their efforts, however, I still think in German. Now, I merely change gears when writing. The switching back and forth is stressful at times, but I've grown used to the constant change. I sometimes describe it as replay of WWW II going on in my head 24/7.  And those times when neither side wins, the result is Germish – not German, not English but a unique blending of the two.

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A Good Name – A Worthy Brand

3/28/2012

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Sitting in Dr. Matthew Joseph’s marketing strategy class at Georgia College & State University, I began to see the various points in the universe connect on the convergence of all the things I knew about marketing. Our efforts, regardless of how benign, go toward establishing, distracting from or adhering to a brand. “Marketing doesn’t start with some commercial or ad campaign – and it certainly does NOT end with a consumer’s eventual purchase,” said Dr. Joseph. “One misunderstood concept regarding your product can ensure you don’t get a single customer. One dissatisfied customer can do more damage to a brand than thousands of dollars worth of advertising can repair…” 

I hate to admit it, but I would normally doze of around this part of the class.  It was a 90-minute class and thirty minutes in was the perfect time for a ten-minute nap to get me to the end of the lecture. But that day, the marketing professor had my undivided attention and by some divine forces or the universe, he was actually making me use my brain to connect the dots and call on knowledge that I already knew to reinforce the concept of marketing towards a brand. “What I’m saying is that if you don’t build your product/service around a solid set of values that define what it is you’re trying to sell, you can forget about going to market!” 

I had heard this somewhere before.  Those exact words weren’t used, but the notion was similar. Then it hit me – I had first learned of the concept in Sunday school years before even attending college. 

          Proverbs 22:1 “A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and 
          loving favor rather than silver and gold.” (KJV)

          Proverbs 22:1 "A good name is more desirable than great riches; to 
          be esteemed is better than silver or gold." (NIV)

Marketing without substance (i.e. trying to sell something that people are confused about what it is or perceived to be of no value) is like screaming at the wind. I would later come to learn that marketing was an extension of branding – the act of establishing, maintaining and enhancing the brand.  The brand itself was the meat on the plate – the main dish. Simply defined, a brand is a particular identity or image regarded as an asset. When people hear names like Coach, Aston Martin, and Hermes, high value and prestige are associated with the brand. What Dr. Joseph and King Solomon (the author of the book of Proverbs) were trying to convey is the importance of the name/brand standing for something.

Before huge corporations and organizations hired marketing and branding specialists to lord over their image, logos and PR events, business was conducted between individuals by individuals through a rather simple exchange.  If you wanted the best produce, you would ask “Who collects good fruits and vegetables?” Word of mouth (which in many cases has now has been replaced by TV commercials, web ads, radio spots, billboards, text ads, etc.) would lead you to the best possible produce based on the positive experience of someone else. Truth in the experience was proven time after time and conveyed to others in search of a particular product or service.  With this truth, trust was established between individuals. The guy who had fancy marketing tactics might have been able to make an immediate sale, but the guy who was able to back up his reputation with quality was blessed with an established name (i.e. brand) and longevity with a loyal cliental. 

What I had learned in Sunday school so many years ago and what Dr. Joseph taught me in marketing strategy class was a concept in branding brought to full circle. But what relevance does branding have to each of us as an individual when the word “personal” is placed in front of the phenomenon? Like organizations, people also have to rely on the basic concepts of brand marketing. Your personal brand tells the world who you are.  Given that we now live in the age of social media and social networking, you don’t have to invest millions of dollars to take out an ad in the trendiest periodical to get the word out about who you are as a brand.  The world can find out about you and what you stand for just by looking at your Facebook or LinkedIn profile, or by following your tweets. 

I have come to realize that we are all “selling” something at any given moment. Depending on what you’ve built as a personal brand will certainly determine who will be buying. So commit today to making a good name for yourself and building a worthy personal brand – you never know who needs to “buy” something from you.

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