Most children do not get to observe their parents’ work as much as I did with my Dad. He had a really distinct career as a United Methodist minister. Due to the nature of this form of the Protestant church, he and my mom moved frequently. If my math is correct, he served 18 different churches over an almost 40 year career in 10 different places around South Carolina. I was along first-hand for a significant portion of that journey and lived his ministry, too.
Lessons Learned
I learned so much from my Dad, and my mind has been with him often since he passed away in January 2024. Rev. David Surrett’s time came far too soon after a battle with ALS. I feel fortunate to have learned so much from him about how to lead and treat people. In my own processing, I landed on these lessons from my Dad. The reflection was a meaningful one for me. I hope it will be similar for you as well.
The United Methodist Church operates off an itinerancy. The philosophy is ministerial movement between churches strengthens everyone. For his profession, movement was mandatory. In each of these new communities my Dad entered, he as the minister was a unique figure. Unlike most jobs, he was subject to public discussion immediately. As a result, first impressions were vital. My Dad understood this, so he went into new churches with a tangible plan. Due to this preparation, he was a master of making an immediate impact on a place.
Do Your Homework
Here is the first lesson from my Dad: before you go into a new environment, do your homework. It’s incredibly important for pastors to know their church members. To start this process, Dad would request a church directory as soon as he was appointed to a new place. Church directories, which probably don’t exist anymore, were like a yearbook for the church. Everyone would go and get their picture taken. Then, everyone’s pictures would be added to this book, and they would receive a copy. The relevant part is Dad would take the directory and study it closely. When people walked out of church on his first Sunday, he would know their name. It showed he cared. It showed he was already committed and doing the work.
What version of the church directory can you get a hold of before you make a transition? If working in higher education, websites and org charts are a pretty good facsimile for the directory. Understanding your why and looking at the alignment between that and the mission, vision, and values of the organization provides clarity. Knowing what the place is about and who you want to be in the space will set you on a path to being taken seriously. This will only aid in your growth as a human and leader. Whether in the short term or long run, it will always be impressive to demonstrate care. Learning before entering space is a clear indicator of that. It is also a building block for future work.
Focus on What is Important
The next lesson from my Dad is to focus on what is important, not what is flashy. The clearest measure of performance for a minister is how well they preach or perform in front of the church. It is there for consumption by everyone involved. Depending on how you think about it, church members either get to learn from the minister during that time or have to “sit through” their sermons. A lot of people think of being in front during the service as the main job of the minister. This is true to the point that sometimes they are even called preachers. However, my Dad knew that was the flash, not the substance.
He would prepare for the sermon, but the real work was in how he treated people. Learning their names from the church directory was just the beginning. He played church softball and volleyball even though he was a horrific athlete because it was a way to be present with people. He traveled to visit people in the hospital all over the state. He regularly visited with folks whose mobility made church attendance impossible. He knew everyone’s stories, where they were from, where their people were, and oftentimes what they struggled with. He instinctively knew that for a life of meaning, what he said from the pulpit people would forget. It was how he made them feel that would make a difference.
For all our professional journeys, diagnose what is flashy and what is important. What about your role now or in the future will seem important but is fleeting? What is the thing that will endure? Oftentimes, these outcomes unfold in ways we cannot predict. I did not know that being an undergraduate student leader in Orientation would turn into a career. Sometimes holding out and seeing things come to life is the best course of action. But keep in your mind the question of what will endure beyond this moment, this role? What relationships and learning will open new windows in your life journey?
Think Long and Hard Before Giving Up on Others
The next lesson I learned from my Dad is to think long and hard before giving up on someone. Through moving many times and the nature of his work, my Dad knew a ton of people. He was also a small kind of public figure. Standing in front of any group at least once a week is bound to open someone up for opinions and criticism. He received those things and did not honestly always handle it that well. He could ruminate and take things personally. He could disengage and focus his energy on more affirming but perhaps not as productive places. Like anyone would, he absolutely got frustrated with people.
But, once he decided you were one of his people, he so rarely gave up on you. He was a proudly loyal friend and colleague. He was a connector: someone who found you, saw you, and valued you. I remember many conversations where he’d be talking about someone, and in my mind, I would actively ask the question of why Dad was still investing in this person. To him, it was never a question. Whether it was formally his job or not, he was a minister of people. It would be impolite to not see the best in the thousands of people in his orbit.
Relatedly, in your work remember most environments are a marathon, not a sprint. Professional fields are small in practice. Relationships you find today may help or hurt your cause in the years to come. It is impossible to know exactly what that will look like, but a great way to safeguard that is to take a page out of my Dad’s playbook and exercise caution. Maybe the folks in your current day-to-day are ones who pass through your life quietly or even require some patience on your part. Maybe you help each other in this season and it does not last. Maybe a new person will change your life forever for the better. One of the beauties of life is we just cannot know for sure because nothing is more delightfully surprising than people.
Commitment Outlasts Disappointment
The next lesson I learned from my Dad is commitment can outlast disappointment. His career played out differently than he imagined. He went to a prestigious seminary, and many of his friends’ careers were rocket ships: huge churches, elected posts, and lots of public recognition. He was accomplished and respected, but the comparison to some of his closest friends was a struggle.
There is a time in every parent-child relationship where the care becomes more mutual. The essence of childhood has ended, and care now needs to be reciprocal. Our relationship changed right before I became a father myself. Dad was serving the kind of church he always imagined, a big place with lots of resources and expectations. He was also unhappy there. I knew a transition was a possibility. When the change did happen, I still remember where I was when Dad called. He was distraught and thought of it as a banishment. Any dream of this rocket ship career was, in his mind, out of the door.
When the time came, he took his banishment. He and my Mom moved to a smaller church in a small community in rural South Carolina. He gave it a chance. He committed to the place and the people like he always did. Much to his surprise, he loved it. He belonged with the people and that community. When he began to plan his funeral, a morbid practice necessary for a minister with a terminal illness, he knew where he wanted the service. In the same community where he was once banished. When the time came, we all drove to rural South Carolina to the place he never wanted to go because he loved it the most there.
Whatever your current situation, be it a rocket ship or what feels like a rejection, you are now committed to it. Either way, life often unfolds beyond our imagination. Life is 3D and our expectations are 2D, hollow compared to actual experience. Good, bad, mundane, exhilarating, life-changing, your journey will likely include a full range of experiences and feelings. What my Dad’s life and the wisdom of lots of others would tell you, is commit and find out. Your commitment to this experience can outlast your disappointment. The banishment may be the prize in the end.
Be Present for People in Their Hardest Moments
This leads to the last lesson from my Dad: be there for people in their hardest moments. As humans, we cannot actually understand and imagine what other people are going through, how uniquely this hurt, this loss hits them. What we can do is lift together and know that healing will happen in lots of unexpected ways. Hard moments were a huge part of my Dad’s life and journey. He served a rapidly aging denomination of Christianity. He undoubtedly had huge share of joys in his work: baptisms, weddings, and professional success. However, he spent most of his time caring for the sick and the elderly. He conducted countless funerals. For those of you who have experienced loss, having thoughtful, kind people who actually know you in those moments can mean the absolute world.
I know how much this mattered to people because I saw it and heard it. The churches and all that moving was my life too. For my entire youth, I was embedded within those communities. I also went with him to hospital rooms. I often knew the people who had passed away or lost loved ones. Learning people’s names fast was the beginning of a journey my Dad went on with so many folks through good times and bad. The depth of this played out at his funeral and visitation. Hundreds of people drove from all over to that small church in rural South Carolina. People came to say goodbye and to reciprocate the care he had poured out for them. So many people went out of their way to tell me how he was the first person to call when their sister died or how thoughtful and gentle he was in conducting their husband’s funeral.
Conclusion
My Dad’s job presented a unique opportunity to care for people during hard times. My work does not often put me in the same positions. There is a good chance this will be true for you as well. But, put this on your radar for your present and future. How you see people during hard moments matters. It is so rare we can fix problems for people, and that isn’t what reasonable people expect of you or anyone else. It is also not what you should expect of yourself. However, as we can, gestures matter. People almost certainly do not need you to be an expert, they just need you to listen and to care. By caring, you may get the gift of someone else’s story. My experience would tell me there is no better way to grow yourself than to understand where someone else is coming from. In these moments, when we are tested, that is where we grow. It is the right thing to do to meet people in their struggle, and it is also where you will find yourself.
As leaders in higher education, we are often defined by our ability to respond in difficult situations. We will never be perfect. But we can prepare by doing our homework. We can focus daily on what is important instead of interesting in this moment. We can think long and hard before giving up on someone. We can commit to the work and know that it is our best tool in the fight against expectations and disappointment. Most especially, we can care for people every single day and know that care will be sent back to us when we need it.
You have the opportunity to grow where you are and towards where you want to be in the future. Throughout my Dad’s life, he took on that challenge of new situations. In doing so, he left the world a better place. I challenge myself, and I’d challenge us all to take on what is coming, to embrace the messiness of growth, and to lead in ways that matter.
Author Biography
Myles Surrett (he/him) currently serves as the Associate Vice President for Career Experiential Learning, and Transitions at James Madison University. Previously, Myles has worked at Clemson University, the George Washington University, Greater Birmingham Habitat for Humanity, and the Close-Up Foundation. Myles is the proud dad of Forest and Thea, the fortunate partner of Erin, and the forever grateful son of Donna and David.