Today, My Beloved added "M.D." to her name. So Mrs. Jenius is now Dr. Mrs. Jenius and she earned it every step of the way.
One aspect of many that I admire about Dr. Mrs. Jenius is that she knew from a very early age that she wanted to be a doctor, to help people get better. Her sense of purpose was evident early, and despite the hundreds of innocent and not-so-innocent remarks about her perceived chances, today is proof that she was right all along. For although it is true that Mrs. Jenius didn't have close relatives who were doctors, didn't study in some fancy private schools, wasn't rolling in moneyed circles and didn't have any sort of patronage, it is also true that she succeeded brilliantly in spite of--or actually because of--those "shortcomings."
Dr. Mrs. Jenius did it by focusing on the part of medicine she loves best: patients. Where most of her colleagues were focusing on books, tests, social amenities and future hubris, she was making a name of herself as a medical student who grokked the people she was treating. Whether it was a baby in distress, an elderly post-op patient or a drug-addled homeless person, Dr. Mrs. Jenius connected with them, finding a way to alleviate their pain and concerns. Her fellow students largely ignored this; her future colleagues couldn't and didn't.
Now Dr. Román Delgado steps forth on the career she envisioned as a child. I have no doubt it will be a glorious career, touching thousands of people from all walks of life. A true doctor's career, focused on service rather than self. Not the easiest path, but then again. Dr. Mrs. Jenius has never taken or had the easy path.
I love you, Mrs. Jenius. And I'm so very happy for you.
The Jenius Has Spoken.
31 May 2012
26 May 2012
Happy Birthday, Kaleb!
Today you turned 12. Aside from it being My favorite number, and that you are My Favorite Son (hee hee), turning 12 is important: it means this is your last year as a pre-teen.
But those teenage years--however they will be--are yet to come. For this last year, I've noticed a growing admiration of you...in Me. Most parents would state unequivocally that they love their children, as I do, but "admire"? And at such an early age? Not often.
One incident will do. Think back to the championship basketball game We were in last year. Down 18-17 (what an astonishingly low score) and with 9 seconds to go, We lost the ball on a turnover. I called timeout and I could see that the team was devastated. Even you were chagrined at the situation. Though I spoke to the team, I was looking at you: We need a steal. I repeated it to get the boys to think that with 9 seconds left, getting the ball back meant We had a chance. And We did.
You all took your positions and I watched as you crouched against the boy you were guarding, intent on him and the inbound pass. The tableau seemed to freeze and once again, I felt calm. Secure. I knew...because I'd seen it before.
The pass almost took too long and the other team's boy nearly panicked as his target--the boy you were guarding--had no chance to get free and receive the pass. The ball came out and you pounced. Without hesitation, you passed cleanly to Our top scorer, hitting him perfectly in stride. He drove to the basket, rose for a floater...and got grabbed, pushed off-balance by his defenders. The ball rattled out and the buzzer sounded.
We lost. No whistle. No call. No win.
It was hard to accept. But all I could think about was how once again, when the game was on the line, you made the play. Like you did in your first year when you guarded the biggest kid in your league, almost a foot taller than you and held him scoreless in the last period, including a key "non-defense" move that saved a technical foul in a one-point victory. Or in your first All Star Game, which you were supposed to be picked for and got passed over, then invited as a last-minute replacement: an MVP performance with 4 points, 10 rebounds and the key steal to seal the game. Or your second All Star Game when I sent you in with a minute left in a 22-20 game to "get rebounds" and you did--twice--to seal the victory.
You see, Son, not everyone can come through in pressure situations. In fact, most people don't. They shy away from the "Put up or shut up" moments, they make excuses and deny making excuses. They blame the world and never step up...but you do. And you deliver.
That's rare, and precious. You do it in sports and I'm seeing you do it in other areas as well. It's like you're expanding your skills in ways that took Me years to even fathom, much less improve. A part of that is due to your mother, stepfather and their relatives, a part of it from your cousins, aunt, stepmother and friends, and I know a part of it is from My being your father, but in the end, all of it is You.
Your successes are your own and as much as We may feel pride in them, whatever you achieve should be for your own reasons. Like playing defense with the ferocious intensity that makes your teammates want you to guard someone else or tackling math with high-energy skill or adapting to the moment and situation while remaining essentially You, these are all praiseworthy, yet keep doing them for yourself rather than for anyone else. You're on the right path to being happier than most, and more successful as well.
Maybe this year We'll win a championship together. You know I want that very much. But whether We do or don't, I'll be proud of you and your effort, admiring of your skills and determination and pleased beyond reason that My Son is well on his way to becoming a better man than I.
However, I still play chess better.
For now.
I love you, Kaleb. You're a gift of love every day of the year.
The Jenius Has Spoken.
But those teenage years--however they will be--are yet to come. For this last year, I've noticed a growing admiration of you...in Me. Most parents would state unequivocally that they love their children, as I do, but "admire"? And at such an early age? Not often.
One incident will do. Think back to the championship basketball game We were in last year. Down 18-17 (what an astonishingly low score) and with 9 seconds to go, We lost the ball on a turnover. I called timeout and I could see that the team was devastated. Even you were chagrined at the situation. Though I spoke to the team, I was looking at you: We need a steal. I repeated it to get the boys to think that with 9 seconds left, getting the ball back meant We had a chance. And We did.
You all took your positions and I watched as you crouched against the boy you were guarding, intent on him and the inbound pass. The tableau seemed to freeze and once again, I felt calm. Secure. I knew...because I'd seen it before.
The pass almost took too long and the other team's boy nearly panicked as his target--the boy you were guarding--had no chance to get free and receive the pass. The ball came out and you pounced. Without hesitation, you passed cleanly to Our top scorer, hitting him perfectly in stride. He drove to the basket, rose for a floater...and got grabbed, pushed off-balance by his defenders. The ball rattled out and the buzzer sounded.
We lost. No whistle. No call. No win.
It was hard to accept. But all I could think about was how once again, when the game was on the line, you made the play. Like you did in your first year when you guarded the biggest kid in your league, almost a foot taller than you and held him scoreless in the last period, including a key "non-defense" move that saved a technical foul in a one-point victory. Or in your first All Star Game, which you were supposed to be picked for and got passed over, then invited as a last-minute replacement: an MVP performance with 4 points, 10 rebounds and the key steal to seal the game. Or your second All Star Game when I sent you in with a minute left in a 22-20 game to "get rebounds" and you did--twice--to seal the victory.
You see, Son, not everyone can come through in pressure situations. In fact, most people don't. They shy away from the "Put up or shut up" moments, they make excuses and deny making excuses. They blame the world and never step up...but you do. And you deliver.
That's rare, and precious. You do it in sports and I'm seeing you do it in other areas as well. It's like you're expanding your skills in ways that took Me years to even fathom, much less improve. A part of that is due to your mother, stepfather and their relatives, a part of it from your cousins, aunt, stepmother and friends, and I know a part of it is from My being your father, but in the end, all of it is You.
Your successes are your own and as much as We may feel pride in them, whatever you achieve should be for your own reasons. Like playing defense with the ferocious intensity that makes your teammates want you to guard someone else or tackling math with high-energy skill or adapting to the moment and situation while remaining essentially You, these are all praiseworthy, yet keep doing them for yourself rather than for anyone else. You're on the right path to being happier than most, and more successful as well.
Maybe this year We'll win a championship together. You know I want that very much. But whether We do or don't, I'll be proud of you and your effort, admiring of your skills and determination and pleased beyond reason that My Son is well on his way to becoming a better man than I.
However, I still play chess better.
For now.
I love you, Kaleb. You're a gift of love every day of the year.
The Jenius Has Spoken.
04 May 2012
We're #27...That's Great!
You've probably never heard of The Founder Institute. Some of you may have, but I bet most of you haven't. Don't feel bad: I only learned about them last year. But since that day, I've been a fan.
In a nutshell, The Founder Institute helps create "meaningful and enduring technology companies." It does so using a four-month "idea to execution" process that even allows entrepreneurs the capacity to launch their new venture while working a job. Their process is not for the wishy-washy toe-dipper: it requires a healthy dose of commitment and sweat. But the results are often fantastic.
Given the paucity of entrepreneurial resources on My Island--a situation akin to finding monkeys in the Arctic--it is a true pleasure to learn that The Founder Institute is now launching its 27th chapter in Puerto Rico. For what can be considered the first time, We will have a world-class entrepreneurial resource helping Our high-energy start-up folks truly reach their potential. It's like the arrival of Major League Baseball to a sandlot park that looks more like a cattle yard.
Okay, maybe Our entrepreneurial environment is not that bad, but it certainly ain't anywhere near being average. Say a 2 on a scale of 1 to 10. But as Jenius Friend Ramphis Castro--he of TedX San Juan fame--said, this is a game-changer.
Now for those of you who want to participate in The Founder Institute development process, you have until May 13th to complete your submission. Yes, Mothers Day; deal. If you really believe you can create a new company that will change the world, or help others change it substantially, then I urge you to believe in yourself 100% and make your way to the Founder website and toss your name into the ring.
The Founder Institute's goal is to create 1,000 new tech companies a year in 30 cities worldwide. Only those of us who have slogged and slugged and struggled with what passes for an entrepreneurial "process" here can appreciate what this means: a chance to finally stand on the global stage as equal partners. We always had the talent to do so: now We have the toolkit to make it happen.
Let's make it happen, over and over and over again.
The Jenius Has Spoken.
In a nutshell, The Founder Institute helps create "meaningful and enduring technology companies." It does so using a four-month "idea to execution" process that even allows entrepreneurs the capacity to launch their new venture while working a job. Their process is not for the wishy-washy toe-dipper: it requires a healthy dose of commitment and sweat. But the results are often fantastic.
Given the paucity of entrepreneurial resources on My Island--a situation akin to finding monkeys in the Arctic--it is a true pleasure to learn that The Founder Institute is now launching its 27th chapter in Puerto Rico. For what can be considered the first time, We will have a world-class entrepreneurial resource helping Our high-energy start-up folks truly reach their potential. It's like the arrival of Major League Baseball to a sandlot park that looks more like a cattle yard.
Okay, maybe Our entrepreneurial environment is not that bad, but it certainly ain't anywhere near being average. Say a 2 on a scale of 1 to 10. But as Jenius Friend Ramphis Castro--he of TedX San Juan fame--said, this is a game-changer.
Now for those of you who want to participate in The Founder Institute development process, you have until May 13th to complete your submission. Yes, Mothers Day; deal. If you really believe you can create a new company that will change the world, or help others change it substantially, then I urge you to believe in yourself 100% and make your way to the Founder website and toss your name into the ring.
The Founder Institute's goal is to create 1,000 new tech companies a year in 30 cities worldwide. Only those of us who have slogged and slugged and struggled with what passes for an entrepreneurial "process" here can appreciate what this means: a chance to finally stand on the global stage as equal partners. We always had the talent to do so: now We have the toolkit to make it happen.
Let's make it happen, over and over and over again.
The Jenius Has Spoken.
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