May 2015 Leadership Reflection

May Leadership Reflection:

Leadership Lessons from the Butterfly

        Some readers may already be aware that I’m a lifelong butterfly fan. Like many people around the world and across time, I’m fascinated by these amazing creatures that emerge from their tiny eggs, crawl along the ground as caterpillars, retreat into a chrysalis, and emerge to soar through the wild blue yonder as winged wonders of great beauty. Butterflies are key players in the world’s tropical and temperate ecosystems, creating and maintaining symbiotic relationships with the plants that they pollinate, ensuring their own and the plants’ continued survival. Some butterflies – like the famous monarch – migrate across continents on an annual basis in order to maintain the circle of life that sustains them and the plants with which they are mutually interdependent.

        What can leaders learn from the magnificent butterflies of the world? Several leadership lessons can be gleaned from these miniscule messengers of beauty. Here are just a few of them that have come to mind as I’ve been enjoying the Central Illinois springtime.

·         Cooperation is essential to surviving and thriving. None of us is completely independent; we are all interdependent on each other and with the animals and plants that share our planet with us. It is very difficult (although sometimes necessary) for leaders to act unilaterally; we need the cooperation of others in order to achieve worthwhile goals and keep the circle of life going from one generation to the next.

·         Our lives unfold in cycles. When we are younger, our range of influence as leaders may be somewhat limited; like caterpillars, we crawl along the ground and may not be noticed by the world at large. However, following a transformative experience (which may involve a period of reflection or reinvigorating rest), we ride the winds of change and enjoy a much broader scope for exercising our leadership skills, just like newly metamorphosed butterflies are able to carry out their useful work of pollination once they have emerged from the chrysalis of preparation.

·         Every ending is the start of a new beginning. All of us encounter surprises and disappointments in life; they are unavoidable aspects of the human condition. When an ending brings us disappointment, we should try to wait patiently for the surprise that signals a new beginning – like the caterpillar that spins a chrysalis around itself, goes to sleep (as it were), and eventually reawakens to an entirely new phase of existence, transformed by its metamorphosis into a magnificent denizen of the air.

·         Work that is done without recognition may prove to be the most important work of all. Butterflies and other pollinators do their work “behind the scenes,” as it were, where few people may ever notice it. Nonetheless, the work that leaders do incognito is perhaps their most valuable work of all. As J. R. R. Tolkien observed, “Yet such is oft the course of deeds that move the wheels of the world: small hands do them because they must, while the eyes of the great are elsewhere” (The Lord of the Rings: Book 2, Chapter 2).

        Countless poems have been written about butterflies and the multiple meanings that have been attached to them throughout the ages. Here is one of my personal favorites, which brings to mind the butterflies that I used to see in the backyard of my childhood home. The sight of a butterfly never fails to surprise and delight me, even to this very day.

“To a Butterfly”

By William Wordsworth (1770-1850)

I’ve watched you now a full half-hour;

Self-poised upon that yellow flower

And, little Butterfly! Indeed

I know not if you sleep or feed.

How motionless! -- not frozen seas

More motionless! and then

What joy awaits you, when the breeze

Hath found you out among the trees,

And calls you forth again!

This plot of orchard-ground is ours;

My trees they are, my sister’s flowers;

Here rest your wings when they are weary;

Here lodge as in a sanctuary!

Come often to us, fear no wrong;

Sit near us on the bough!

We’ll talk of sunshine and of song,

And summer days, when we were young;

Sweet childish days, that were as long

As twenty days are now.

Resources for Further Exploration

·         http://lepidoptera.pro/ à Here is a massive online infohub about all things butterfly!

·         http://www.life.illinois.edu/pollinatarium/ à Visit the University of Illinois’s very own Pollinatarium in Urbana for interactive learning about butterflies and other pollinators.

·         http://www.missouribotanicalgarden.org/visit/family-of-attractions/butterfly-house.aspx à The Butterfly House in Chesterfield, Missouri, features a tropical butterfly conservatory where visitors can meet and greet butterflies up close!

Memorial Day: Remembering Our Departed Heroes

Dear Members, Alumni, and Friends of the James Scholar Advisory & Leadership Team –

In this edition of Quotemail, we remember all our departed heroes, from many times and climes, those whom we have known and loved, and those whom we have never had the honor to know personally but to whom we are nonetheless deeply grateful for their service and sacrifice.

The observance of Memorial Day (originally known as Decoration Day) began in the aftermath of the American Civil War. It was first widely observed in both North and South during May 1867, to honor all the soldiers who had died in battle (over 600,000 people died in the Civil War, making it the bloodiest war in American history). Here are a few poems and reflections to remind us of all the heroes who have died in defense of our country – not only during the Civil War, but also before and after.

“The Blue and the Gray” (1867)

By Francis Miles Finch (1827-1907)

By the flow of the inland river,

    Whence the fleets of iron have fled,

Where the blades of the grave-grass quiver,

    Asleep are the ranks of the dead:

        Under the sod and the dew,

            Waiting the judgment-day;

        Under the one, the Blue,

            Under the other, the Gray

These in the robings of glory,

    Those in the gloom of defeat,

All with the battle-blood gory,

    In the dusk of eternity meet:

        Under the sod and the dew,

            Waiting the judgment-day

        Under the laurel, the Blue,

            Under the willow, the Gray.

From the silence of sorrowful hours

    The desolate mourners go,

Lovingly laden with flowers

    Alike for the friend and the foe;

        Under the sod and the dew,

            Waiting the judgment-day;

        Under the roses, the Blue,

            Under the lilies, the Gray.

So with an equal splendor,

    The morning sun-rays fall,

With a touch impartially tender,

    On the blossoms blooming for all:

        Under the sod and the dew,

            Waiting the judgment-day;

        Broidered with gold, the Blue,

            Mellowed with gold, the Gray.

So, when the summer calleth,

    On forest and field of grain,

With an equal murmur falleth

    The cooling drip of the rain:

        Under the sod and the dew,

            Waiting the judgment-day,

        Wet with the rain, the Blue

            Wet with the rain, the Gray.

Sadly, but not with upbraiding,

    The generous deed was done,

In the storm of the years that are fading

    No braver battle was won:

        Under the sod and the dew,

            Waiting the judgment-day;

        Under the blossoms, the Blue,

            Under the garlands, the Gray

No more shall the war cry sever,

    Or the winding rivers be red;

They banish our anger forever

    When they laurel the graves of our dead!

        Under the sod and the dew,

            Waiting the judgment-day,

        Love and tears for the Blue,

            Tears and love for the Gray.

“In Great Deeds” by Joshua Chamberlain (1828-1914, Union General from Maine)

       In great deeds, something abides. On great fields, something stays. Forms change and pass; bodies disappear; but spirits linger, to consecrate ground for the vision-place of souls. … Generations that know us not and that we know not of, heart-drawn to see where and by whom great things were suffered and done for them, shall come to this deathless field, to ponder and dream; and lo! The shadow of a mighty presence shall wrap them in its bosom, and the power of the vision pass into their souls.

“Decoration Day”

By Evaleen Stein (1863-1923)

See the soldiers, little ones!

   Hark the drummers' beat!

See them with their flags and guns

   Marching down the street!

Tattered flags from out the wars,

   Let us follow these

To the little stripes and stars

   Twinkling through the trees.

Watch them waving through the grass

   Where the heroes sleep!

Thither gently let us pass

   On this day we keep.

Let us bring our blossoms, too,

   All our gardens grow;

Lilacs honey-sweet with dew,

   And the lilies' snow.

Every posy of the May,

   Every bloomy stem,

Every bud that breaks to-day

   Gather now for them.

Lay the lilies o'er them thus,

   Lovingly, for so

Down they laid their lives for us,

   Long and long ago.

Heap above them bud and bough;

   Softly, ere we cease,

God, we pray Thee, gently now

   Fold them in Thy peace!

Let us close with the first stanza of “Bivouac of the Dead,” a poem composed in 1847 by Theodore O’Hara to memorialize his fallen comrades from the Mexican-American War. These lines appear in national (especially military) cemeteries throughout the United States, including Camp Butler National Cemetery outside Springfield, Illinois, where my father’s mortal remains were laid to rest five years ago this summer.

The muffled drum’s sad roll has beat

The soldier’s last tattoo;

No more on Life’s parade shall meet

That brave and fallen few.

On Fame’s eternal camping ground

Their silent tents to spread,

And Glory guards, with solemn round

The bivouac of the dead.

Requiescant in pace. (May they rest in peace.)

Robertus (Rob)

Graduation Thoughts for the Class of 2015

Dear Members, Alumni, and Friends of the James Scholar Advisory & Leadership Team:

With Commencement at the University of Illinois only one week away, this fortnight’s quotations are dedicated to all our listmembers who have received their academic degrees between May 2014 and May 2015. These are some of my all-time favorite pieces of poetical wisdom, packaged together just for you.

“If” by Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936)

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,

Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,

And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream — and not make dreams your master;

If you can think — and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build them up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with Kings — nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,

And — which is more — you’ll be a Man, my son.

“Up-Hill” by Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)

Does the road wind up-hill all the way?

Yes, to the very end.

Will the day’s journey take the whole long day?

From morn to night, my friend.

But is there for the night a resting-place?

A roof for when the slow dark hours begin.

May not the darkness hide it from my face?

You cannot miss that inn.

Shall I meet other wayfarers at night?

Those who have gone before.

Then must I knock, or call when just in sight?

They will not keep you standing at that door.

Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak?

Of labor you shall find the sum.

Will there be beds for me and all who seek?

Yea, beds for all who come.

“Upon the Hearth the Fire Is Red” by J. R. R. Tolkien (1892-1973)

Upon the hearth the fire is red,

Beneath the roof there is a bed;

But not yet weary are our feet,

Still round the corner we may meet

A sudden tree or standing stone

That none have seen but we alone.

Tree and flower and leaf and grass,

Let them pass! Let them pass!

Hill and water under sky,

Pass them by! Pass them by!

Still around the corner there may wait

A new road or a secret gate,

And though we pass them by today,

Tomorrow we may come this way

And take the hidden paths that run

Towards the Moon or to the Sun.

Apple, thorn, and nut and sloe:

Let them go! Let them go!

Sand and stone and pool and dell,

Fare you well! Fare you well!

Home is behind, the world ahead,

And there are many paths to tread

Through shadows to the edge of night,

Until the stars are all alight.

Then world behind and home ahead,

We'll wander back to home and bed.

Mist and twilight, cloud and shade,

Away shall fade! Away shall fade!

Fire and lamp, and meat and bread,

And then to bed! And then to bed!

Until we meet again – Ultreia! (Onward!)

Rob :)