Believing in You By Steve Goodier

Did you know that Albert Einstein could not speak until he was four years old and did not read until he was seven? His parents and teachers worried about his mental ability.

Beethoven's music teacher said about him, "As a composer he is hopeless." What if young Ludwig believed it?

When Thomas Edison was a young boy, his teachers said he was so stupid he could never learn anything. He once said, "I remember I used to never be able to get along at school. I was always at the foot of my class...my father thought I was stupid, and I almost decided that I was a dunce." What if young Thomas believed what they said about him?

When F. W. Woolworth was 21, he got a job in a store, but was not allowed to wait on customers because he "didn't have enough sense."

When the sculptor Auguste Rodin was young he had difficulty learning to read and write. Today, we may say he had a learning disability, but his father said of him, "I have an idiot for a son."

His uncle agreed. "He's uneducable," he said. What if Rodin had doubted his ability

?

A newspaper editor once fired Walt Disney because he was thought to have no "good ideas." Caruso was told by one music teacher, "You can't sing. You have no voice at all." And an editor told Louisa May Alcott that she was incapable of writing anything that would have popular appeal.

What if these people had listened and become discouraged? Where would our world be without the music of Beethoven, the art of Rodin or the ideas of Albert Einstein and Thomas Edison? As Oscar Levant has accurately said, "It's not what you are; it's what you don't become that hurts."

You have great potential. When you believe in all you can be, rather than all you cannot become, you will find your place on earth

Source: http://www.allthingsfrugal.com/g_believe.htm

How Thirsty Are You?     by Steve Goodier A man had an operation, and the doctor, by mistake, left a sponge in him. A friend asked him if he had any pain because of it. "No," said the man, "but I sure do get thirsty." Isn't it wonderful when we get thirsty - not for water, but thirsty to chase a dream or to do something different? I think it is those people who crave something with an unquenchable thirst who, in the end, are likely to be most satisfied with their lives Author Napoleon Hill said, "Desire is the starting point of all achievement, not a hope, not a wish, but a keen pulsating desire which transcends everything." He is really talking about a deep thirst.    Alan C. Elliott tells in his book A DAILY DOSE OF THE AMERICAN DREAM about a five-year study that was undertaken to discover what made some people extraordinarily successful. The study consisted of detailed research into the lives of 120 of the nation's top artists, athletes, and scholars.   He reports that the researcher was surprised to find that natural abilities played only a small part in the development of those individuals.   As children, these unusually successful adults were often mediocre musicians, athletes or students. But research found that they possessed a powerful thirst to succeed. They practiced the piano for hours every day, rose well before school in the morning to practice swimming or running, or spent huge chunks of time alone (time they could have spent hanging out with friends) working on science projects or painting Parental support was also a key factor. Parents of these extraordinarily thirsty young people helped out, exposing their children to great ideas and influential persons. Many sacrificed to ensure that their offspring received good training. But in the end, it was their children's thirst and single-mindedness that made the difference.   The principle applies to adults, too. If you want to be more successful, the question you might first ask yourself is, "How thirsty am I?" Your success in any field you choose, anything you want to be or anything you want to do will hinge on your answer to that simple question. How thirsty are you? Source: http://www.allthingsfrugal.com/the-will-to-succeed.htm   . .

success

Hard Advice for Young Leaders

When our oldest son Jeremy was in high school he was on the wrestling team. It was intense training. I loved the discipline and confidence it gave him and I loved the wrestling matches.

When Jeremy would come home from a hard day of practice he wanted to bring what he learned in training into our family time. I had always enjoyed wrestling with my boys, but now he wanted to take our play time to a whole new level. We would start wrestling in the “assumed position” he had been taught, but then I would use my extra 70 pounds as an advantage and quickly pin him to the ground. He would often yell, “No, you’re doing it wrong! That’s not the rules!” To which I would always reply, “No buddy, you’re on my turf now, you play by my rules…and I say there are no rules.” And in that illustration lies a principle younger leaders need to learn as they enter the field of leadership. Here’s the principle: If you’re gonna play with the big boys and girls — you’ve gotta bring your big boy and girl game. Let’s face it. Many entering the field of leadership today have lived as a generation where they were given much of what they wanted but had few demands placed on them personally. They played multiple sports, for example — which they enjoyed — but it meant they didn’t have “chores” when they were home. Of course, there are exceptions, but this is often the case. By the way, this was also more the case for my generation than for my father’s generation.

I’m not being completely critical of this — it was mostly true for our boys also, but because of this, I often see young leaders enter the field of leadership these days with some unrealistic expectations. They sometimes expect to receive equal reward without paying their equal dues. I should also point out I see some incredible young leaders. Hard-working, Conscientious, Dedicated, Loyal, So this is an “if the shoe fits” post. What disturbs me most is when young leaders fail to live up to their full potential.

Here are 10 ways I see that occurring:

• Making excuses for poor performance rather than attempting to improve
• Pretending to have answers to problems they’ve never experienced
• Refusing to learn from other people — especially older people — discounting anything which isn’t from your generation
• Demanding more than they are willing to give — maybe especially in regards to respect
• Expecting a reward they haven’t yet earned
• Depending on step-by-step instructions instead of learning by trial and error
• Refuting another generation for content when technique is the real difference
• Being cynical towards anything opposite of the way they think it should be
• Remaining fearful of taking risks or making a mistake
• Treating loyalty as if it is a strange idea from the past

Wow! I told you — hard words. They only sting if they’re true. And, granted, all of these were probably true to some extent of every generation. They seem very common today among younger leaders.

My advice: Young leaders be patient, teachable, humble, grateful and mold-able as your enter positions of authority and as you are given responsibility. Don’t fail to learn all you can from those who went before you or to grow from your mistakes. Expect to work hard to achieve the things you want from life and realize things may not always be as you would want them to be. There are a few stories of people who stumbled into instant success, but those are rare.

The reward:  Over time, as you are diligent, you will likely change some of the rules. I hope you do. Some of the rules of my generation need changing. I’m not afraid for you to teach this old dog new tricks. I want to learn from you. I want you to have responsibility and authority. I want you to be fully rewarded and recognized for your contribution to society. I also want you to realize, however, that most things of lasting value take time and discipline to achieve. The “big boy and girl” world can be tough, but you can make a huge contribution if you are willing to pay the price.

By the way, I gave this same advice to my sons as they have entered adulthood and the workplace

Source: http://www.ronedmondson.com/2015/08/my-hardest-advice-for-young-leaders.html

Entrepreneurship is Vital to Africa’s Prosperity

“The US was built by entrepreneurs. I know Africa can be built in the same way.” I happened upon these statements while surfing the net one day and they excited me. This was because they said in a simple way a conviction I have: that a multiplicity of successful entrepreneurs across the African continent is fundamentally necessary for lifting it out of its poverty.

The material prosperity or wealth of any society depends on its economic growth. Economic growth may not take care of how the wealth is distributed but it goes without saying that it must underlie the quest for wealth creation or prosperity in any society.

One of the most outstanding works ever done into why and how nations become wealthy is Adam Smith’s ‘An Enquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations’, a title usually shortened to ‘The Wealth of Nations’. In it he argued ingeniously that the true wealth of a nation was to be found in the produce of the labour of its people. The increase of this produce is what is referred to as economic growth. Robert Reich in his introduction to the book summed up Adam’s Smith’s view thus: “To him, the ‘wealth’ of a nation wasn’t determined by the size of its monarch’s treasure or the amount of gold and silver in its vaults … A nation’s wealth was to be judged by the total value of all the goods its people produced for all its people to consume.”

Entrepreneurs are at the core of economic growth. This is because they are the ones who organize production in a society. They put together the society’s resources of land, capital and labour to produce goods and services. The more entrepreneurs therefore, the more goods and services are produced. The more goods and services are produced, the more a society becomes materially prosperous. This is, however, just one aspect.

True entrepreneurs innovate. A special report on Entrepreneurship in the Economist (March 14,2009) carried this definition of an entrepreneur:someone “who offers an innovative solution to a (frequently) unrecognised) problem. The defining characteristic of entrepreneurship, then, is not the size of the company but the act of innovation.” Through the acts of innovation more value is created and by implication more prosperity. Paul Romer, a Stanford University economist put it beautifully: “Economic growth occurs whenever people take resources and rearrange them in ways that are more valuable… [It] springs from better recipes, not just more cooking.”

To alleviate poverty in Africa, we must create wealth. To create wealth, we must put our people to work. To put our people to work, we need entrepreneurs. Entrepreneurs are vital to Africa’s prosperity.

 https://dennisobeng.wordpress.com/2010/04/03/entrepreneurship-is-vital-to-africas-prosperity/

‘How I finished my PhD … just 30 years after I began’

Feeling in my bag for the ceramic turquoise hippo my mother gave me as a good-luck charm when I was a teenager, I took a long, deep breath. It was almost 2pm on 12 January 2015, minutes away from an event I had been working towards for much of my adult life. Like a finalist on The Apprentice approaching the last challenge, there was a lot riding on my performance. Only this wasn’t reality TV, this was my life. I was about to defend my PhD thesis in a viva. And my journey to this point had taken longer than most. Just over 30 years.

This is still difficult for me to explain. No interesting or successful career had diverted my energies; no extraordinary life events, dramas or emergencies had forced me off the expected path. In retrospect, I’d rather fallen into doing a PhD. Back in 1984, having just completed my BA in social anthropology at Soas (School of Oriental and African Studies), I had no clear career aspirations. But because I graduated with a first, the university encouraged me to stay on for a doctorate. With help from a tutor, I chose a research subject – women and work, a hot topic at the time – and formulated a proposal. On the back of this, I was awarded funding for three years. The anthropological approach places particular demands on the researcher. Its core methodology, participant observation, requires not so much adaptation to the local culture as immersion in it: living, acting and experiencing everyday life among the community under study. For many, it is an intensely personal experience. But on leaving the field, anthropologists are expected instantly to switch back into academic mode, distance themselves from their fieldwork, analyse it and write it up.

Re-entering academia and adjusting to life back in London was harder than I expected. For the past year, I’d spent almost every waking hour in the company of Minangkabau – an Indonesian people known for their Islamic faith and matrilineal traditions (where descent and inheritance are traced along the female line). The tolerance, generosity and genuine care they extended to me during my stay had been truly humbling. Returning to the anonymity, individualism and materialism of urban life was an unwelcome shock. I’d become so absorbed in the Minangkabau culture and so emotionally attached to the people, I couldn’t – and didn’t want to – detach myself from it, let alone write it up in a thesis. How could I do justice to this life-changing experience through the narrow framework of academic discourse? Under pressure to finish, I attempted writing my thesis in an experimental, quasi-literary style, basing each chapter around the narrative of a single Minangkabau woman. It was a disaster. My supervisor didn’t know what to do with me.

‘I’d become so absorbed in Minangkabau culture, I couldn’t – and didn’t want to – detach from it, let alone write it up’

As the funding dried up, earning a living took priority. I planned to find work in social research, but the unfinished doctorate proved a stumbling block. I was either underqualified (no PhD), or overqualified (having started a PhD). Taking any employment I could, I ended up following my partner as his career took hold – Bedfordshire, Cambridge, London, Oman, Bristol, Nottingham, Hampshire, Abu Dhabi, Hampshire again – raising a family along the way.

The PhD, though pretty much abandoned, was not forgotten. Its incompletion felt like a dark shadow of failure. It haunted me. I held on to the idea I might return to it. Wherever we went, I dragged the boxes of fieldnotes and files with me, my own emotional excess baggage. Occasionally, I dipped my toes back in. While pregnant in Oman, I wrote as much as possible from my fieldwork notes before motherhood subsumed my life. In Nottingham, I caught up on theory in the library while my toddler was at nursery. During summers home from Abu Dhabi I bought books and photocopied articles to read while the children were at school. But it wasn’t until 2006 that a combination of events pushed me back on the path to completion.

Working as a freelance journalist, I wrote a piece for the Guardian on unfinished PhDs. Speaking to other “non-completers” in the course of this opened up the wounds – the sense of waste (all that work!); the guilt over invested others (the Minangkabau, funding authority, university, family); the deep disappointment at not finishing what I’d started. I needed to seek some resolution.

I began investigating alternative uses for my data and indirect ways to insinuate myself back into academia. But there was only ever one solution: to finish the thesis. By chance, I met some old university friends the following January. Shocked by my non-completion and adamant I should return, they pressed me to contact the university again. I sent an email the next day and in October 2007, aged 45, found myself back in the academic fold.

With a new supervisor, it looked promising. We were optimistic, predicting submission within two or three years working on it part-time. It took seven. Every stage seemed to take so long: the reading, more than 20 years to catch up on; the writing, much slower than in my younger years; the editing, rewriting, rethinking, further reading, amending. It was a hard slog.

A year before the final deadline, it was all pretty much done, but my supervisor decided to throw one more curveball. We could use the remaining time, he said, to make it even better – just rewrite the introduction and conclusion, split one chapter into two and rejig the others. I was exhausted. I’d rather have bathed in a tub of acid than spend another year on my thesis. But holing myself up in my bedroom, my long-suffering family tiptoeing around me, I got it done: 10 days before the deadline, 900 words under the limit.

At first, all went according to plan. A literature review was conducted, a report written and approved, a research visa received and 13 months’ fieldwork in Sumatra completed. That was the honeymoon period. After coming home, the problems started.

Four months later, I was facing my viva. My supervisor told me to smile, relax and enjoy the discussion, but warned me the outcome was unpredictable: one student’s viva had taken a whole day, another was told to rewrite her entire thesis, and some had even been sent back to do more fieldwork.

Beset by self-doubt, I walked into the viva room, ready to confront my fate. “Before we start,” said the external examiner as I shakily sat down, “we’d like to tell you that you’ve passed, with only minor typographical corrections.”

“This is huge”, said my supervisor afterwards, clapping me on the back, “not just for you, but for me too. This was a big challenge!” Yes, it really was.

The corrections took me little more than a day and soon after, I received email confirmation of my award. But it wasn’t until my graduation ceremony at the end of July, on shaking the hand of the Soas president, Graça Machel, dressed in my doctoral robes of gold and red, that I felt genuine pride. It was over.

Now all I have to do is finally find a suitable career. At 53, that could prove the greatest challenge yet.

Source; http://www.theguardian.com/education/2015/aug/18/finished-phd-30-years-after-began-doctorate