Practice Makes Progress

Practice Makes Progress

About three years ago I started two new practices. The first was fundraising for the Life is Good Kids Foundation (LiGKF). The second was coaching tee-ball.

The first new practice was (is) hard because raising nearly $2 million a year for a non-profit that is integrated with a for-profit lifestyle brand and is often mistaken for a granting organization is a challenge. Also, prior to signing on, I'd always been a part of expansive and specialized fundraising teams. At the LiGKF major gifts, communications, public relations, sponsorships, stewardship, corporate underwriting, grant proposals, and events would all be added to my roster.

The second new practice was (is) hard because - well - kiddos, bats, balls, and parents. At the time, I'm also pretty sure that I was the only female manager volunteering for my town's tee-ball league, and 100% positive that I was the only female showing up for Little League meetings.

I decided two hard things were better when practiced as one.

Fortunately for me, the LiGKF specializes in helping adults create optimal environments for and life-changing relationships with the kids they serve in our schools, hospitals, and social service agencies. We offer tools, retreats, and coaching to more than 10,000 childcare professionals across the United States and Haiti - helping to improve the quality of care delivered to more than 1 million kids each year.

As part of my on-the-job training, I attended multiple LiGKF retreats and connected with many expert care providers. As a result, I "goodified" (that's an LiGKF term) my coaching game.

The first LiGKF principle I brought to the field: "Keep the important thing, the important thing."

The most important thing of instructional baseball is that the kids actually LIKE showing up. There's no fun in dreading practice, being scared of the ball, or constantly feeling compared to others. Also, winning is awesome and it's impossible to win tee-ball (there are no outs, every player hits, and every player runs to only one base at a time).

So, how do we win without earning any actual runs or actual outs? We score the things that actually matter.

Thanks to the LiGKF, I built a participation scoreboard (think plywood & chalk board paint) and each time a teammate tried something new - boom, we earned a point. Every time we did our best listening, cheering, and encouraging - point, point, point. When we made a play = point. When we messed up and STILL went for another go = point. 10 points by the end of every practice or game unlocked a special prize - something that brought us together (think freeze tag where they chase the coach and popsicles).

The second LiGKF principle I brought to the field: "You can't share what you don't have."

If the most important thing was for these five and six year-olds to LIKE showing up - guess who else had to like it? Actually, I had to more than LIKE it - I had to love it. Which felt hard because, you know, work, schedules, commutes, bills. So, I made a habit of taking two minutes before going to the field to run through everything that was right about getting to take on this responsibility: 1) Being outside 2) Meeting kids in town and their parents 3) Seeing kiddos give each other high-fives 4) Running around 5) Playing catch...

Shortly after my parents divorced my bonus Dad insisted that I sign up for Jenny League Softball. Prior to his presence in my life I never played on a team. He volunteered to coach and somehow every kid in town knowing (and loving) him as Coach Bobby D took the pressure off my decision about whether or not to call him Dad. He was Coach Bobby to the world and my Bobby at home and that help me put down the worry of what to call him just long enough to actually play.

I never mentioned that to anyone. I just fell in love with the game and LIKED showing up.

Before every game and every practice I made it a habit to consider all the things my kiddos maybe weren't mentioning and how simple acts of love, inclusion, and compassion could help them put down any of that heavy stuff just long enough to have some actual fun.

That made LOVING to show up really easy. Instead of feeling obligated to coach, I became devoted to it.

I've stayed devoted to it.

And when I showed up for this season's first Little League meeting, I was no longer the only female in the room and by my first practice had about a half-dozen other coaches ask about that scoreboard and freeze tag and team vibe.

That's when I realized I was living the greatest LiGKF (and optimist) principle of all: Growing the good for myself, for others, and for the world all around.

Now, when I step up to bat in the field of fundraising for the LiGKF - for on-going support for professionals who devote their entire careers to helping our kids heal, grow, and thrive - I don't beat myself up when I strike out.

I'm devoted to take another swing.

For more on The Life is Good Kids Foundation, here's a copy of our latest online newsletter, Newsball.











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