I really should not be allowed to watch documentary films. I can think of countless films that forced me to climb a new soapbox and preach. From human trafficking to protecting dolphins in Japan, these films have a way of exciting a dormant passion living within me. This passion has translated into signing petitions, emailing my elected officials, and even a few protests. Then, my energy wanes. The flame that made me want to change the world slowly flickers and dies without an organization to harness my passion.  

Entering my senior year of college at the University of Central Oklahoma, I watched An Inconvenient Truth by Al Gore. As the credits rolled, I found myself angry, shocked, and in desperate need of something to do. Over the summer, I launched a Facebook group for other concerned students and reached out to members of the Young Democrats. I also began looking at my own life and considering personal decisions I could make to improve the health of the planet.  

Then the flame flickered.  

In my senior year of college, I had a simple goal for myself. At the annual Broncho Leadership Awards, I wanted to be recognized as Senior of the Year (spoiler alert; I wasn’t). To achieve this goal, I knew I had to be more involved on campus. I threw myself into my major and countless student organizations. I also began seriously volunteering and took every leadership position offered. One of those positions was on the Vice President of Student Affairs’ Leadership Council.  

If I recall correctly, they formed the council to help uncover and work on areas of improvement across the entire university. Anything affecting the student body was fair game. This meant no issue was too big, small, or challenging for this group. They encouraged us to speak our minds and lead where possible. In one of those meetings, I recognized an opportunity for the candle to burn brighter.  

Nervously, I mentioned UCO’s green initiatives and where I thought they fell short. UCO had shifted all their energy consumption to carbon neutral sources, but I believed we should do more. I thought we should encourage carpooling/mass transit, and we should build a campus-wide recycling and compost system.  

It was an enormous challenge, with lots of moving parts and even more concerned parties. The Vice President of Student Affairs, Dr. Kathryn Gage, could have politely listened to my concerns, promised to investigate it, and filed it away as something to tackle when time allowed. Instead, she encouraged me to do more. She opened doors for me, gave me space to take my concerns to campus leadership, and offered resources to address the problem. She invited me to help plan UCO’s Annual Earth Day event and gave me permission to change the event with a focus on shifting the conversation.  

She gave me ample space to lead, and that space changed the course of my life. Months after a successful Earth Day event, I was a graduate from UCO. I was still working at Hideaway Pizza. I filled my days with pizzas and job searches. Out of the blue one day, Dr. Gage visited for lunch. She explained she was launching a brand-new office of Commuter Student Services and strongly encouraged me to apply.  

A month later, I began my professional journey as the first Coordinator of Commuter Student Services at the University of Central Oklahoma. That professional journey has taken me across the country. It has pulled me from Oklahoma to Seattle, from Seattle to Los Angeles, and back to Seattle. It now finds me serving what I believe to be the cause of my life as I work alongside committed men and women attempting to solve the affordable housing crisis for our neighbors.  

In countless ways, I find myself at this stage in my life because someone took a chance on me and believed in my ability to change our campus. I will never forget that, nor will I ever be able to repay the debt.  

This story brings me to the point of this letter. Most of the people who will stumble across this letter are people I went to school with between 2002 and 2007. Many of you now find yourselves in leadership positions with people reporting to you. At work and in our communities, we have shifted from mentees to mentors. Before us all are endless opportunities to change the course of someone’s life by creating a space for them to challenge the status quo and attempt something new.  

A seasoned leader at UCO took a chance on me. When I recognized this, I was bound and determined to not miss this opportunity. I did not want to disappoint myself, but I also did not want to disappoint her. When someone displays their belief in you, this can become an engrossing thought.   

As leaders, we can begin fostering and shaping the next generation of leaders. We can create space for leaders to blossom, fail, learn, grow, and expand the canopy of their own impact by countless degrees. As you look around your office or take stock of personal relationships, think of someone who is just beginning their journey. Better yet, think of someone from a marginalized group who you can mentor. Offer to take them out for coffee or lunch. Ask them open-ended questions about their hopes and dreams. Tell them your story and offer to be a resource for them. Leave the meeting with a plan to continue coming together to discuss new ideas and ways for them to grow. Let them know you're invested in their success, even if that success means their journey takes them somewhere else.  

As humans, we often think making a difference in this world can only be accomplished with grand and sweeping changes. When we realize the size and scope of change is too large for one person to accomplish, we can lose our resolve. Instead, let’s make a habit of thinking of the square we stand in and choose to make change there. For me and my square, I am hoping to be a mentor for the next generation. I hope you will join me.  

 Be good to each other,  

Nathan  

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