Since I was a child, I have learned much from my father, Dave Carson. He is not famous. He is not a millionaire. He does not run a Fortune 500 company. But he is a great man. He has worked hard all of his life to do what is right, provide for his family, help others. He has been a consistent role model to me and to my siblings for our entire lives.
When I was in college, Dad got me a job at the printing company where he was working at the time in Glendale, California. One day while I was there, we had what turned out to be a very important conversation to me. It had to do with the usual challenge for me at that time, which was that I needed more members on my softball team, the Tigers, at the after-school youth organization where both he and I volunteered, the Kare Youth League, and I didn’t know how to get them. Feeling kind of sorry for myself and expecting a sort of pep talk, I expressed my frustration to Dad. Instead of sympathizing, he just straight up told me, “The system you have is perfect for the results you’re getting. If you don’t like your results, you need to change your system.”
“Well. That’s interesting,” I thought. No “You can do it!” No “Being in charge is really hard, so hang in there.” Just practical, straightforward truth. And as I continued to think about what he said, his point of view seemed not only an interesting way of looking at my situation, but also a profound one, and it initiated a paradigm shift in my thinking. Up to that point, I’m reasonably sure I had been viewing myself as a bit of a victim. “The girls aren’t coming. The fliers we sent out to the schools advertising our program didn’t work. It’s not my fault.” Those were the thoughts that had run through my mind. But Dad’s statement helped me to see that I was copping out. I had decided that there was nothing I could do and had consequently fallen into a “woe is me” mindset. But I was wrong. I could change the current status of the Tigers’ numbers. I would have to do something different—and in my case, probably something more, but still, Dad’s advice ultimately impacted my thinking deeply: Take responsibility. If you really want to change things, you can. Although it didn’t occur to me at the time, as I write now, I realize that, wow, Dad changed systems to change results all the time. From something as simple as re-roping a line for cotton candy at a carnival to make it more efficient and workable; to organizing a fundraising banquet at Kare Youth League in such a way that attendance was the highest it had been in years, if not ever; to the important task of completely overhauling the youth league’s summer track meet to make it one of the most well-run, exciting, and fun events of the year, Dad sure set a high bar. Don’t like the results? Change the system. When Dad first introduced me to the idea, it was daunting to look at life that way, but before too long, I came to see that it was also empowering. Daunting because I knew that the more responsibility I took, the more challenging life would become, and I was emphatically not someone who enjoyed challenges. Empowering because it helped me be honest with myself: It stopped me from indulging in the self-deceit that characterizes the unproductive in society who always think it is someone else’s fault for why their lives are disappointing to themselves and others.
Dad’s advice did me a world of good, but not just me, because I am paying it forward. I share his wisdom with students in my English classes, with young people whom I mentor, and with my own children. It is true, some negative circumstances and conditions cannot be changed, but I have learned that many situations, if not most, can be changed, and the application of that knowledge to my life has, to quote one of Dad’s favorite poets, Robert Frost, “made all the difference.”
This article was originally published in American Essence magazine.