Meet Alice - The Inspiration Behind T.A.P. Executive Coaching
The Quiet Strength That Inspired a Movement
In January of 2013, on what seemed like an ordinary day, I called my mom, 80 years young at the time, as I started out for work. It wasn’t unusual to speak to Mom several times a day; after all, she was my best friend.
But on this morning, despite saying she felt fine, I sensed something was off. By 10:30 that night, I was watching paramedics trying to keep my mother alive.
That night I clung to the belief that she would defy the odds - again. Her 5’2” frame was a monument to defying the odds. Mom, who was intensely shy, had endured poverty, overt racism, the isolation that is common to military wives, the loneliness of being the only African-American in her social circles, and the mixed emotions of being far from her family.
She survived a divorce at nearly 60 years of age, with no financial standing and only entry-level work experience.
As her marriage was ending, she also became a caregiver to her mother and sister, both of whom were terminally ill, and living more than 800 miles from her home.
She survived a catastrophic surgery complication to make an unexpected and full recovery.
She survived an automobile accident that was a full force hit by an 18-wheeler.
She survived Stage 3 ovarian cancer by more than 6 years past her expected survival, with a better quality of life than many her age who were in perfect health.
Sitting in that intensive care unit, I desperately wanted to believe that we would soon return to life as we knew it. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was time to start saying goodbye.
Born in Charleston, West Virginia in 1932 Clara Alice was born during a time when it was common that many African-American women were relegated to domestic housekeeping jobs, and often were called out of their given names.
Clara Alice, her mother and sister lived and slept in a one room house, sharing a bed. Mom often told stories of how she was teased about her plain clothes and well-worn shoes. Despite sparse beginnings, Clara Alice was raised by my grandmother to speak well, sit up straight and look people in the eye.
She attended Garnet High School and excelled in her studies, receiving accolades and awards throughout her high school career. Clara Alice graduated at the top of her class and, although painfully shy, delivered the commencement address, challenging her fellow students to set an example of how to use education to create a meaningful life. She went on to West Virginia State University, where she continued to excel and graduated with honors.
After graduation, she eventually found herself waving goodbye to her family, New York City bound. The image of her mother standing at the bus stop as she said her goodbyes, in a thread bare house coat - her only “dress”- reinforced my mother’s resolve to make something of herself so she could support her mother and younger sister.
My mother went to work at McGraw-Hill in New York City, living what was to her, a dream. And as promised, she sent money home every chance she could. Shortly after arriving in New York, she met an up and coming military chaplain - the man who would be her husband, my father.
From there, Mom’s story took lots of winding turns. She followed my father overseas for his military career, while raising two children, running a home and occasionally taking a job to make ends meet. She discovered she had a natural gift for creating stunning textile art pieces and intricate handmade greeting cards. She was a true Renaissance woman.
Wherever Mom went in her life’s journey, the one thing she carried with her was her faith in God. She cherished her membership in the United Methodist Church, and found deep satisfaction in being active in the life of her church. The most stunning evidence being the offering check she wrote, with weak and withered hands, just weeks before she passed away. She believed what little she had, even in her final weeks, could bless “the least of these” (Matthew 25:40).
The night Mom was admitted to ICU, I surrendered to a process I hated – not being in control. I was, after all, supposed to be extremely good at being in control of my life. I had children, a husband and other family members counting on me.
I had employees who needed answers, team members who needed support and a company that wanted a fully present leader. I had commitments – all of which were important to how I defined myself. The day after Mom was admitted to ICU, I wrangled with whether or not I was fit to keep a speaking engagement with an national industry association.
With one of my closest friends, Dr. Kym Harris - at my side for moral support - I walked into the auditorium. It seemed as though I was watching from a blurry aerial view, as people milled all around me, oblivious to the devastation I was hiding underneath my corporate nametag and designer outfit.
I pushed back the overwhelming grief, knowing that my beloved mother and best friend was fighting for her life. I looked back at Kym as I finished listening to my host introduce a version of me that I wasn’t even sure I recognized.
Lights, camera, action!
Following that speech, I went straight back to the hospital, shed my suit and pearls, and collapsed at my mother’s bedside.
The days and nights in ICU were punctuated only by the somber support of family and friends, and the beeping of Mom’s heart monitor.
In April of 2013 – four months later than I should have - I resigned from my corporate job and began the round-the-clock role of hospice caregiver.
I was pitifully unqualified, unprepared, bewildered and grief-stricken.
I had come to the end of myself.
As it turns out, I was also at the beginning of who I was going to need to be.
I’d made a career out of developing people and the organizations that hire them.
I’m paid to understand human behavior, referee conflicts, analyze and address complex scenarios, train people to learn new things and mitigate risk.
With so much experience keeping organizations productive and healthy, how is it that it took a crisis to reveal just how unhealthy I was?
How did I get the point of pushing myself so hard that I missed what I really wanted?
How did I forget to define success according to my values instead of defining them by how much, or who, was on my calendar?
And how did I miss the signals that I couldn’t do everything?
With every passing day, I knew Mom was leaving me.
What would I do when she was gone? Caring for her was a 24 hour job.
I never would have chosen the role or the exhausting, overwhelming and emotionally raw things that came with it. But I cherished the role all the same - because of who I was caring for.
The idea of having to let that go was bittersweet.
But I eventually began to connect the dots of the lessons from my mother’s life and dying, to my own life, gifts and talents.
I crawled into bed with Mom one day and told her that I discovered even more things that we had in common.
When I mentioned the name of my coaching and HR consulting practice - The Alice Project (at the time) - she was overwhelmed that anyone would consider her contributions worth memorializing.
On September 25, 2013 I kissed Mom's hands, face and neck, made her comfortable and left the room to fetch her medicines.
As I returned to her, she sat up like she had seen a ghost, said "Karen, come quickly!" and by the time I got to her she was on her way to Heaven.
The End of One Chapter, The Beginning of Another
Despite the obstacles she overcame and the career and family accolades to her credit, my mother struggled to speak up for herself and the things she needed.
She never truly heard her own voice because, in her era, it wasn’t really expected that she would use it.
By the time she realized she could, she simply didn’t know how.
She perceived her contributions as insignificant and her life as ordinary and unproductive. As a result, she unconsciously tolerated regret, ignored her own genius and assumed she needed permission to invest in herself.
Here’s what I know: millions of women (and men) are doing exactly the same thing today.
Our mission at T.A.P. Executive Coaching is to help people and organizations define productivity on their own terms, through Focus, Purpose and Perspective™.
We believe that:
Productivity is achieving what you really want, on your own terms, in the areas of life that matter most to you – professionally and personally.
"Having it all" is a personal perspective defined by priorities. Having It All starts with what we already have. It's about re-evaluating how we define being productive and successful.
Leaders who are actively engaged in their lives, are curious about their potential and/or well-being have options, resources and the ability to impact their own progress.
Income, working for someone else or running your own company are not indications of worth, value, contribution or ability.
Living your best life, professionally and personally, requires intention and pays dividends in the short and long-term.
What my mother accomplished in her lifetime is remarkable, by any standard.
If she were alive today talking to us about where to start in our own professional and personal lives, I think she would agree with me in saying…
"You have more options than you realize".
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