On Newtown

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Anyone who follows me on social media knows that I have been sharing a good number of articles, posts, and other pieces regarding the horrific tragedy in Newtown, CT. I am not alone. Since Friday, it has become the dominant topic on my Facebook News Feed, my Twitter feed, and my Google+ feed.

Beyond what I have been sharing, however, I find that I have been thinking about this event a lot. It has been on my mind constantly throughout the weekend, and it has brought me close to tears — and to tears — on several occasions.

The sheer magnitude of such an event is hard to fathom. There have been other mass shootings, other shootings at schools, and other shootings involving children. But never in recent memory can I recall a situation where 20 children — all either 6 or 7 years of age — have been massacred.

Last week, we had the children from the College’s Child Development Center in our lounge. The first time was for a party just for them. The second time was for the College holiday party, at which they sang. These children — about 20 of them — are all pre-kindergarten age, only a few years younger than the victims at Sandy Hook Elementary School. Having them around, with their infectious smiles and giggles, their wide-eyed wonderment, and their endless number of questions and ability to talk authoritatively on almost any subject made my heart smile. Having been around them so recently, I can’t help but think what if it had been them in that classroom, and that thought breaks my heart.

Hearing the stories of bravery by the principal, staff, and teachers is inspiring, but it also makes me think of the horrific odds they were fighting against. Thinking about the school principal throwing herself at the gunman in an attempt to stop him is almost too much for me to handle. I (we) cannot help but ask what I would have done in a similar situation. I hope that I never have to find out, but I feel deep in my soul that I would have done the same, whether it was to protect my students, my friends, or my family.

Whenever anyone spouts some indefensible rhetoric about the rights of gun owners, I want to dismantle their argument piece by piece. I want to ask them if they would have the same opinion if it had been their child, their niece, their nephew, their cousin, or their neighbor in that school. I want to scream at the folks at the right who are saying that Obama is coming for their guns. I want to scream at the folks on the left who are advocating outlawing all firearms. I want everyone to take a step back and realize that out of this absolute horror, something good can come. Something good has to come.

There will be time to debate the Second Amendment, a new ban on assault rifles, and the balance we have to strike between our freedoms and preventing another tragedy like this one. Now, though, we must focus on comforting the parents and the community in Newtown who have lost so much. We must also focus on comforting one another, and resolve that we will do whatever is necessary to make sure no more children are lost to such senseless violence.

In Flanders Fields

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In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

– Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)

Apple Is Tim's Company Now

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News of this week’s executive firings at Apple, which saw the departure of Scott Forstall and John Browett from Cupertino, is big news. While Browett’s firing didn’t come as much of a shock, the boot to the ass of Scott Forstall, who has been head of Apple’s iOS team since its inception, was a disciple of Steve Jobs, and was considered a CEO-in-waiting, caught everyone off guard.

There has been a lot of speculation and commentary about these moves. Browett was widely seen as a bad fit for Apple’s culture, and his numerous missteps helped guarantee that his tenure as head of Apple Retail would be short (he only last nine months). In hindsight, Forstall’s abrasive personality, harsh management style, and out of control ego were reason enough to show him the door.

According to several reports, the incident that signaled Forstall’s death knell was the iOS 6 Maps debacle. Interestingly, it seems like Apple executives — namely CEO Tim Cook — were willing to overlook the fact that it happened in the first place; the sticking point became the apology. Forstall reportedly refused to sign the public letter, which Cook ended up signing alone and posting on Apple’s home page in an unprecedented move.

If Cook has stressed anything since taking over Apple’s reigns, it is that the whole is more important than the individual. For Tim Cook, there is no “i” in “team.” The fact that Forstall refused to be a team player and take one for the good of Apple was surely the ultimate betrayal for Cook. With no love lost among the other Apple executives and without his patron to protect him, Forstall never had a chance.

No one can doubt that Apple is now Tim Cook’s company. He has finally stepped fully and convincingly out of Steve Jobs’ shadow, basically eliminating the strongest competition for the CEO position and one of Jobs’ favorite employees. But the one thing that Forstall and everyone else has to remember is that Jobs hand-picked Cook to succeed him as CEO. Steve knew that Cook was the right person to lead Apple after he was gone.

Jobs may have been the only who could save Apple from oblivion, but Cook may be the only one who can take Apple to the next level. From here on out, Apple’s successes and failures will be in Cook’s hands. Apple is definitely a different company that the one that Steve Jobs left just a year ago. But despite a few bumps, Apple is on the right path.

Getting Over It and Moving On

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Earlier this week, I had an epic fail. I dropped the ball on a major event at work, and it almost derailed the entire activity. I let down the students who depended on me and put my colleagues in a bind trying to make up for my mistakes.

Since then, I have been beating myself up about the entire situation. I got pretty depressed, and was beating myself up pretty badly. I am a perfectionist, and I set incredibly high (some would say unrealistic) standards for myself. I hate letting other people down, especially those that I love and care about. I take my work personally, and see my performance as an extension of who I am.

But there are only so many times that you can say you’re sorry. I did the grown-up thing: I took responsibility for my mistakes. I identified what went wrong and worked on my own systems to make sure that something like this doesn’t happen again. And I apologized. And I apologized again. And I apologized again, until I realized that I was beating a dead horse. Now I am writing this post, which will hopefully be the last step in my catharsis from this whole situation.

I don’t think that I would have made it through this without the support of my friends; the friends who really know me and understand me. Without them guiding me back from the edge, I would probably still be wallowing in self-pity, thinking of how badly I screwed everything up.

So, this week’s lesson: You’re going to make mistakes. Some of them will be small and some of them will be ginormous. Regardless of how big the mistakes, your friends and colleagues – the ones who really know you and care about – will be there to help you out, just as you’ve been there to help them out. Taking responsibility and apologizing for what went wrong is not a sign of weakness; it is a sign of maturity and leadership.

And ultimately, when all is said and done, you just have to get over it and move on.

Tuesday, October 17, 1989, 5:03 p.m.

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Tuesday, October 17, 1989, 5:03 p.m. — The Loma Prieta earthquake strikes the Bay Area.

I was watching TV with my brother and sister in the family room. When the house started shaking, I immediately ran under the table in the dining room. Then I saw my father coming down the stairs, and I ran over to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. He guided me over to my mother, sister, and brother who were all huddled in the doorway from the dining room to the family room.

The quake only lasted 15 seconds, but it felt like the shaking went on for hours.

When the shaking stopped, we checked the house for any damage. The garage door had shifted a few feet, some water had spilled from the fish tank, but other than that the house was fine. On the stove, where my mom had been cooking, the pot of soup still boiled away; luckily the natural gas line hadn’t ruptured and caused an explosion.

As the electricity started to come back, we started seeing the reports of damage around the Bay Area: Fires in the Marina District, damage to numerous buildings, evacuations and frantic attempts to contact loved ones (this was before cellular phones and the Internet really took hold). Then a few stations started picking up on reports of damage to the Bay Bridge and Cypress Structure in Oakland. Never in a million years were we prepared to hear that a top level section of the cantilever portion of the Bay Bridge had collapsed onto the lower level. What was even more shocking was the total collapse of the Cypress Structure. Built on land reclaimed from the bay, the double-deck freeway had pancaked onto itself, killing numerous people.

My father decided to go out and pick up some extra food and supplies, just in case. My sister and brother elected to go with him. I can clearly remember my mom putting on my sister’s shoes when an aftershock hit. My mother immediately covered my sister with her body, protecting her from anything that might fall. The aftershock was a small one, and my sister, brother, and father went out. It took them more than four hours to return.

I spent the rest of the afternoon flipping between reruns of Airwolf and the non-stop stream of news about the chaos taking place across the region. I remember seeing one camera crew, out in the City, interviewing a man who was directing traffic at an intersection. He was clearly not a police officer, or in any kind of position of authority. When the reporter asked him why he took it upon himself to direct traffic, the man said, “This is our city, we have to take care of each other.”

Here we are, 23 years later. The new section of the Bay Bridge, pushed through after the ’89 quake, is almost complete. The Central Freeway in San Francisco, which obscured the Embarcadero, has been demolished. The Cypress Structure is no more.

And we wait, for the next big one.

On the VP Debate

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I’ve watched a few clips from last night’s VP debate, and I have the following observations:

  • Biden won. (I am, of course, biased.)
  • Martha Raddatz should be the moderator for all debates, ever.
  • Watching Biden, you can tell how much he loves Obama and how much he believes in the work that he and the president are doing. His passion, his loyalty, and his genuine care were evident.
  • Compare that passion with the tepid performance by Ryan. He was just going through the motions, defending a platform and a candidate – Romney – that he (probably) can’t fully get behind.

Think Different

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Here’s to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently.

They’re not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo.

You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them. About the only thing you can’t do is ignore them. Because they change things. They invent. They imagine. They heal. They explore. They create. They inspire. They push the human race forward.

Maybe they have to be crazy. How else can you stare at an empty canvas and see a work of art? Or sit in silence and hear a song that’s never been written? Or gaze at a red planet and see a laboratory on wheels?

We make tools for these kinds of people.

While some see them as the crazy ones, we see genius.

Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do.