Author: Mskillen

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A lot of New in a Familiar Place: Part 1: Life and Death

About a year ago my family and I relocated from Mount Joy, PA–our home for the last fourteen years–to McPherson, KS. While the past year has commonly felt like any other relocation a young family might experience, the nuances of returning to Kansas after so many years living somewhere else have been interesting and revealing. In a new series, I am going to catalog what I can about this chapter in our lives. I don’t want to lose sight of all that is happening, and I hope our story can serve as a source of hope for others who may be in a similar place.

Within just a few months of returning to Kansas our extended families experienced two tremendous losses. In September, my wife’s family said goodbye to her paternal grandfather, Ben Love. Ben was a WWII veteran, a school teacher, and loving grandfather to his six grandchildren and nine great-grandchildren. In years past we weren’t able to always travel for memorial services–resigned instead to watch them streamed over the internet. Being present was a new experience all together, and I think we were better for it.

We held Ben’s memorial service in early September. An end-of-the-summer thunderstorm rained down heavily on us the entire morning–including at the graveside service. As the United States Navy honor guard played taps, in defiance of the wind and rain, and folded the rain-soaked flag that was draped over Ben’s coffin, I couldn’t help being wrapped up in the entire moment–overwhelmed to be surrounded by loved ones–holding this memory along with the many others we shared with Ben throughout his life.

Later, in October, I learned my step-father, Frank Rhodes, had passed away. Words can not describe the impact Frank made on my life. Even as I write this post many months later I can hardly pull together an adequate description of the many ways he formed and shaped my life.

I was honored to officiate his graveside service, which was held on one of the most beautiful days in October. In a shaded corner of a cemetery near Paola, KS, we celebrated Frank’s life and marked the great contribution he made to so many people. A eulogy that prepared for the service said, in part:

Frank Edward Rhodes, 72, passed away on Wednesday, September 27, 2023.He was born on Sunday, September 16, 1951, in Paola, Kansas, the son of Frank and Betty (Young) Rhodes.

Frank wore many hats and served so many people in a variety of ways. He worked as an electronic consultant for computer software development. He had a true heart for service and his passion for helping others was evident in the way he provided technical support for his clients as a service technician. And, eventually toward the end of his career, when he served as a service manager for Office Automation and the Ricoh Office Technology companies. 

His interest in mechanical operations began at a very young age. He was in 4H club as a child, he enjoyed building things with wood. There wasn’t anything Frank couldn’t fix. He was resourceful, and his workbench was always well organized. Frank had a craftman’s mind on how to expertly use the right tool for every job. I can remember many times growing up and encountering car trouble. Whether it was a flat tire on the side of the road or a faulty heating system in my 1985 Ford Taurus. Frank knew which tools to use and how to fix the problem. Watching him work and working alongside him taught me so many important life skills. Like many of us here today, I learned the tremendous value of being able to do a job by myself. This valuable lesson was instilled and developed under Frank’s guidance and care. 

Just a few weeks before Frank passed away he sent me a message to see how I was doing. My family and I had just made a long move from Pennsylvania to Kansas. In the midst of settling in, I found an old edger in the backyard shed of our new home in Kansas. I took an afternoon over the weekend to clean up the old machine, replace the air filter, sparkplug and added some fresh oil and gas. With my son’s help, the darn thing fired right up. I took more than a little joy in sharing that story with Frank in our text message exchange. 

Frank was a man who truly cared for others. In reflection of Frank’s life, my brother Joe said “I enjoyed how friendly Frank was. He talked to all strangers. He was upbeat and positive. He cared deeply for his family.” 

He really did. 

My brothers and I got to know Frank when he married our mom. We were in high school and middle school at the time. I’ll never forget the ways he supported us during that very important time in our lives. He attended school plays, programs and music concerts. He taught us to drive and chauffeured us to ice hockey practices, games and tournaments. He helped us move in to our dorms when we left for college, and when possible he was a guest of honor at our ceremonies and celebrations. 

Frank had a good relationship with God. He read the Bible everyday. As one of Frank’s pastors, I can say without a doubt that any pain he experienced in life was eclipsed by the love he had for others and the faith he held in our Savior Jesus Christ and the grace that comes from knowing his grace, peace and love. Frank became a regular worshiper at St. Paul’s Church in Elizabethtown, PA through our online worship. Without fail, I would often receive a text message of support From Frank after each and every service. Together we engaged in the many questions of this life and what inspires me today as we remember and celebrate his great influence on our lives is that today, right now, Frank’s consciousness is complete. Though he is gone from this mortal Earth he is now eternally in Heaven. He is now home. 

One of the many things Frank and I talked about these past few years is how one’s heart changes through developing a deep faith in Jesus. The source of Frank’s enduring care and kindness to others was refined through his relationship with God. He was, as outlined by the Apostle Paul, Christ’s ambassador here on Earth–sharing everything he had to help support others. Frank has been one of the better examples in my life and a model to live by, a model on how to meet people where they are, a model on how to forgive, a model of deep commitment and loyalty, a model of true character. He was a true ambassador for Christ, and perhaps Christ’s appeal was made through Frank and his connection to you. 

Frank was preceded in death by his parents Frank and Betty Rhodes; sister Shirley Kilgore; niece Donna; nephew Danny Lee Kilgore; and great-great niece Elizabeth. He is survived by his sisters Elsie Grimm and Ruth Ann (Joe) Weaver; step-sons Mathew Skillen, Joseph Skillen, and Steve Skillen; nieces Cathy Grimm, Mary (Ryan) Hays, Barbara (Troy) Lyons, Sarah (Denny) Brake; nephew James (Melissa) Grimm and many other nieces and nephews and friends. 

And his memory, his legacy, and impact he has made on all of us, will live on far beyond today. 

Recently, I listened to a podcast posted by Erwin McManus on the value and meaning of life. He draws first from a passage in Ecclesiastes where Solomon challenges a pervasive thought of his time that reduced the human experience to that of a animal’s experience–citing that the only difference between humans and animals is that animals don’t know that one day they will die. How timely.

McManus draws parallels between what Solomon was observing in his time and what we may be observing in our time–when we care more for our pets than we do ourselves and the like. McManus postulates that when we arrive at a reductionist/nihilist reasoning that there is nothing left to live for, we are overlooking richness of the life God shares with us.

I am thankful that I knew people like Ben and Frank. Both had a joy for life–even at the very end–taking advantage of every moment to be present with those they loved. Each had their own way of doing this, and each way is forever burned in my memory.

Beyond these flashpoints, we’ve experienced more and more new in a familiar place. Each day has presented new challenges along with new opportunities to invest into one another–to be a source of light and life when someone is feeling down. Amid our transition between Kansas and Pennsylvania, our children experienced a formal school setting for nearly 3 months (more on this later), and we have slowly, but surely, expand our community on our journey.

As this series continues to develop, I hope to share more with you about the many ways this new chapter has inspired and moved us to a greater place of grace and love.

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Chain Breaker: God With Us

In the second installment of a four-week message series titled Chain Breaker, the message “God With Us” examines the boundaries and structures God established with the Israelites to reorient them as God’s people.

The audio file embedded below was recorded at St. Paul’s United Methodist Church on February 10th during the 11:00 AM worship service.

God With Us | Rev. Dr. Matt Skillen | February 10, 2019

To learn more about St. Paul’s United Methodist Church, visit our website at: http://stpauls.faith.

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Getting out of Egypt

This week at St. Paul’s UMC in Elizabethtown we started a new sermon series called “Chain Breaker,” which over four weeks will explore the stories in Exodus and Joshua to see how the Israelites were liberated from slavery to become a light to the rest of the world. This message examines the calling Moses received from God at the burning bush.

It was family worship week at St. Pauls. I love hearing all of the background noise from the younger worshipers in the room. However, I think the Rev. Dr. Joe Skillen did a much better job at family worship with a cool sermon bingo game he and his staff devised. You can hear his sermon here:

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The Craftsman and Grace

The sound of the saw cut through the silence in the large garage. An air compressor clicked on as the punching sound of nails from a pneumatic nail gun joined two pieces of pine together in a perfect right angle. I watched this wizardry as a young boy in my grandfather’s workshop. He was a master craftsman; I believed he could build anything.

Grandpa never used plans. He just knew how things were supposed to fit together. He could cut lumber with laser-like precision, and with what appeared to be very little effort he could create a masterpiece. I remember he once turned a stack of excess decking lumber into a set of Adirondack chairs. From my eight-year-old perspective, the transformation was nothing short of miraculous. Where one person saw unneeded lumber, Grandpa saw great potential, and I always admired this about him.

Humanity is God’s greatest creation. He made us all unique in His own image. While we enjoy this unique connection with God, we fall short of God’s expectations through our sins. Romans 8 says “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” However, by grace the entirety of humanity has been reconciled with God through Christ’s great sacrifice.

In the candidacy guidebook Answering the Call I read of John Wesley’s definitions of the three aspects of grace. These three aspects (prevenient grace, justifying grace, sanctifying grace) are described in the book in relationship to a house. (I’d like to go into more detail of this particular metaphor in another post. Trust me, it’s worth the wait.) While the illustration of a house is useful in understanding Wesley’s aspects of grace, I think the craftsman is a more salient comparison when discussing humanity’s need for divine grace.

Prevenient grace is the grace that “surrounds us” and “precedes us.” No matter where we go in life, no matter the decisions we have made, God goes before us and meets us at every turn in our lives. Even in times of chaos or aimlessness, God sees our potential, he knows each name and he has plan for each life—much like the craftsman sees a masterpiece in the raw materials.

For a craftsman to do his work the raw materials must go through a significant transformation. Saws cut and form lumber and the pieces are joined together to make new shapes. With each cut and adjustment, the craftsman brings the masterpiece together. Similarly, justifying grace is the grace that is present in spiritual growth. In the moment a person recognizes sin in his or her life and trusts that he or she is forgiven, he or she is once more aligned, or justified, with God. These moments, as we are cut and formed, are challenging to say the least, but these formational experiences are truly life-changing. No more are we an excess pile of lumber. A new purpose may be revealed in our personal transformations with justifying grace.

True craftsmanship is revealed in the use of smaller tools. As the craftsman sands the wood to a smooth finish and adds etching or carvings to complete the new piece, character and detail emerge. Sanctifying grace, in similar ways, reveals more of God’s image in us, and God becomes more visible in us. Because we have been forgiven, we forgive more freely. Because He is generous to us, we are generous with others. When one is able to tap into God’s beautiful sanctifying grace he or she creates a cycle that allows him or her to be more Christ-like to those he or she comes into contact with, which could encourage others to be gracious to those they meet too.

The fine sawdust hung in the light pouring in through the workshop window. Two beautiful chairs stood in the middle of the room where a stack of decking wood used to be. Grandpa smiled and asked me to take a seat. As I ran my hands across one of the arm rests, I thought earnestly about the day that I would build my own chairs because I now knew it was possible.

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The Day I “Scienced”

I can remember very clearly the day I explicitly used the scientific method to make a decision, and the stakes were very high.

I was a seventh grader at Davis Middle School in Columbus, OH. Mr. Verachuck was my faithful and patient science teacher who, like Mr. Jarzab the year before, guided us through the scientific method as we completed a number of experiment-based lab assignments.

Mr. Verachuck had a long room in the middle of the seventh grade wing. The tables were set up in rows, and I can remember inquiry being at the center of every lecture, every lesson and every learning opportunity every single day. The scientific method was the foundational concept we would apply to the questions and mysteries we encountered in class.

A project that I still think about nearly 25 years later is the egg box project. The set up was simple: Using a shoebox and any other materials you like, design a vehicle that, when dropped from thirty feet in the air, will protect three large eggs. The execution, however, wasn’t that simple. We worked in teams of two, and my partner and I tried several different approaches before we landed on a simple design using insulation foam. In all of our test cases, the design held up. On the day of the drop, however, only two of our three eggs survived.

There is a great deal of heat in  the launch of a new concept. Though our trial runs of dropping our egg box from the top of the locker bays and the second floor window of my house were successful, the ultimate drop from the Genie lift 30 feet in the air in the domed gym at Davis Middle School was nearly a complete failure. To this day I still wonder how we could have improved the box to keep all three eggs safe. Obviously, I have never let this episode go. It feels incomplete. And, I have certainly used this experience to make better decisions when working with fragile materials (or transporting eggs from the grocery store).

Learning can do that. It can help you leverage failure in such a way that makes a positive, lasting impact. While two of the eggs didn’t survive, I had just worked on an extensive project that allowed me to develop and test a series of hypotheses through data collection, revision and trial and error. And that still resonates with me today.

Fast forward a few more months. I am still in seventh grade. Mr. Verachuck is still my teacher. After a long day at school I checked in with my dad via telephone once my younger brothers and I were safely off the bus and in the house. At the conclusion of the conversation he said, “Hey, listen I have two tickets to tonight’s Michigan/Ohio State basketball game. I can only take one of you, so try to sort that out before I get home.”

Could this be true? My dad had two tickets to the biggest basketball game of the year and one of us was going with him. I knew immediately my youngest brother would not be interested, so I asked him first.

“Nah.” He said simply while playing a video game.

Joe, my middle brother, on the other hand, would be a little more difficult to persuade. I really wanted to go to this game.

“Hey, Joe.” I began. Joe was shooting hoops in the driveway. Though he was younger than me, he was far superior in all matters of athletics. I can count on one hand the number of times I have ever beat him in a one-on-one a game.

“Dad has a couple of tickets to tonight’s OSU game. He asked me to work it out on who would go with him.”

I let the statement rest in the air for a moment. He was nonchalant, but I could tell he was interested.

“Cool.” Is all he said.

Waiting for just a brief moment I said, “Flip you for it.”

“Sure.” He said.

A coin was used to make several decisions in my childhood. It was a fair and impartial way to decide who would sit in the front seat on long trips, who would get the last can of Pepsi in the fridge, or who would clear the table after dinner. No greater decision was made in a given day than “heads or tails?”

As the words “Flip you for it?” left my mouth I was reminded that I had been on quite the cold streak lately with flipped decisions. I decided that such an important choice between heads and tails needed to be studied further.

I scrounged around my room to find a quarter, a dime and a nickel and ran 100 test flips to see how often heads and tails appeared with each coin. In my test, both the quarter and the nickel were almost right at 50/50. It was uncanny given my recent string of bad luck. One would think with these results I would have had a more even record. The dime, however, had a slight edge to tails.

Later that evening when dad got home he asked who was going to the game. I shared with him that Joe and I were interested in going and we agreed to flip for the chance to go with him.

“Let’s find a coin.” He said.

“Here’s one.” I said, providing the dime from my test.

“I’ll call it.” I said.

Dad flipped it up int he air.

“Tails!” I called out with what sounded like great confidence.

The reveal from the flip showed tails.

I have few memories from the game. I remember watching Chris Weber from Michigan land a 360 dunk early in the first half that sucked the air out of the arena, and I am pretty sure Ohio State lost the game. However, I clearly remember the process I used to change my fortunes, to finally win a flip decision.

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Wyatt’s Haircut for a Cause

Thursday, May 24th was a big day in the Skillen home. Wyatt, after going fifteen months without a haircut, walked into Purify Salon in Elizabethtown, PA and had about eight inches of hair cut. The transformation was simply remarkable to watch–but it wasn’t just a visual transformation Rebekah and I witnessed. Our boy is growing up right before our eyes and it was apparent on Thursday.

As Wyatt began avoiding haircuts we thought we were entering another “phase” in Wyatt’s life. But what may have started as a phase became a mission when about nine months after his last haircut a young girl Wyatt’s age, Sophia, lost a brave and courageous battle with brain cancer.

Sophia and Wyatt first met when they were very young. Sophia’s mom and Rebekah both attended the same support group for new mothers. Her passing was very difficult for so many involved, and several people close to Sophia’s family sprang to action in the most wonderful and beautiful ways. Moms from the original support group, for instance, signed up to serve meals at the Ronald McDonald house in Hershey, PA–the organization that supports families like Sophia’s who need to remain close to loved ones in the hospital.

Rebekah and I didn’t know how Wyatt would mourn, but we knew he would likely find his own call to action, and he did through the Pantene Beautiful Lengths program.

Here is Wyatt’s story.

 

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My Grandmother: The Digital Humanist

Grandma Jessie Skillen passed away recently. She was 90 years old.

Jessie Skillen was a registered nurse by trade. She was one of many women trained in the United States Nurses Corps. Her career included working years for the Red Cross and in rural nursing homes across the state of Kansas. Her service to her community was nothing short of remarkable. As a leader in her community she knew that personal connections, the capital you build in your friends, neighbors and your family, is by far the greatest asset you can have in this life.

After her retirement she became a full-time grandmother to ultimately 21 grandchildren and 21 great-grandchildren. Keeping up with so many people connected to these relatives turned into quite a task when you realize that all 21 grandchildren, their spouses and their children were strewn far and wide across the United States.

She was the only grandparent of mine who was taught how to type, and the only one who ever purchased a computer and an internet connection. This is no small thing giving my grandmother’s location. She and my grandfather lived in the small rural town of Norwich, KS–located about forty miles west of Wichita. This town had no stoplights, very few paved roads, not a single coffee shop, but it had one company in the region in the early 2000s that was willing to sell dial-up internet service, and I believe Grandma Jessie was one of their first customers.

As an new internet user Grandma loved to communicate with us in her family via email, but she didn’t share much original content. Rather, she shared a stream of chain emails. Often including an uplifting poem or Paul Harvey story followed by the explicit instructions to “forward this message to ten people you love.” So, you counted yourself lucky, most of the time, to be included within the number she thought should receive the new forwarded message.

But Grandma really became the connected communicator that I most fondly remember when the internet became more social. The advent of Facebook only amplified her connections to those of us who were fortunate to know her. I can remember the moment grandma showed me how dynamic social media had become. It was 2009 and many of my siblings and cousins had made the trip home to Norwich for Christmas. My two younger sisters, still in high school in Miramar, FL at the time, came in through the front door and were immediately approached by Grandma who had all kinds of questions about their new boyfriends they had just posted pictures of a few weeks earlier. My sisters were shocked. How did grandma know so many details about their personal lives? Easy. She was on Facebook.

More than anyone in my family at that time Grandma Jessie understood the value of connectedness between people and among communities. She invested in each of her grandchildren and connected with each in her own way through the many different platforms we used through our computers and smartphones. In this way, grandma was a true digital humanist.

 

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Ghosts

I have one of those basements in my home that, if one looks closely at the pockets of junk possessions stored on shelves and in the corners, stories will slowly emerge.

The other night I found the trombone I played through middle school and high school. The case is decorated with bumper stickers that I collected throughout my four years playing in the Maize High School marching band, concert band, jazz band and pep band.

As I looked at the stickers I laughed as I remembered the different stories behind each addition. And I dwelled briefly on how each sticker represents some attempt to outwardly define my personality and shifting sense of self-expression.

Take for instance these three stickers on the bottom of one side of the case. I was never really particular about my shoes in high school. I wore vans sneakers because they were wider than most than most athletic shoes and they were really durable. I wasn’t a skateboarder, but I clearly didn’t mind if others thought I was.

The Safety Orange sticker was added as if to say, “Yeah, I like local music.” Safety Orange was a band headed up by the mythic Steve “Gooding” Gooding. I “worked” for about six months with a Wichita band called Shaft. Safety Orange and Shaft played a number of shows together in that time including a CD release party for Safety O at The Big Fish–a club that was recently demoed to make room for the new Intrust Bank Arena in downtown Wichita.

When the history of Wichita hockey is written (note to self: begin drafting a proposal to write the complete history of amateur and pro-am hockey in Wichita, KS) Triple Crown Hockey will likely be listed in the footnotes somewhere. In the mid-1990s hockey was really taking off in the Air Capital. Ray Cody, a local businessman and proponent of youth hockey, launched a roller hockey league in a spare parking lot at the Wichita Municipal Water Authority building. This was a matter that eventually came before the Wichita City Council because it was unclear if Ray even had permission to set up shop in the spare lot.

Before the city of Wichita got involved Triple Crown Hockey, a national youth sports organization hosted a weekend-long tournament that attracted teams and players from entire central plains region. What was cool about this tournament is that the local teams from Wichita had a chance to really compete with players from other parts of the country and we found that we could actually hang.

The other side of the case seems less exciting, but I’ll note the KICT 95 sticker. I know I went through several “favorite” radio stations in my youth, but T-95 still stands as one of my favorites that I listen to whenever I’m back home. I remember once calling in to the station–OK so I called in more than once–to play “name that tune.” I lost to another caller, but the thrill of hearing my voice on the radio was simply electric.

Ghosts exist. I don’t necessarily mean floating figures stuck somewhere between life and death haunt us mortals. But the ghosts of our past do amble around us, and it is interesting to take a closer look to see who we have become.

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Business Department LLC Presentation | October 14, 2017

“We’re starting at what time?”

The idea of getting up on a Saturday morning to attend a writing workshop doesn’t appeal to most people, but most people are not members of the Elizabethtown College Business Department Living/Learning Community. I’d like to thank the Business LLC for inviting me to share a little bit about language and writing today, and I hope everyone finds something of use in today’s workshop.

When does it matter to you?

I once served as a writing tutor for high school students. One student stopped by the writing center in my school and asked for consultation on a writing project she was working on. We made small talk while I read her work. She planned on becoming a veterinarian. I made several recommendations and offered to help her later if she needed it. To my offer she said, “That’s OK. This is the last English paper I’ll be turning in before heading off to college. Thank God I’ll be done with this nonsense.”

“Won’t you need to continue working as you go through college and start your career?” I asked, knowing that even veterinarians need to know how to write.

“No,” she said. “I’ll have a secretary for this stuff someday.”

With that in mind, it is important to note that I later learned the student failed to gain admission into veterinarian school on her first try… and then again on her second try. On her third attempt she was finally admitted to a school in the Caribbean–not an American institution. While at college, however, she met a professor who was able to communicate the importance of written communication to her and tutor her on academic writing.

In our pre-college education we were all taught to write in the same way. In just about every high school and middle school classroom students are guided through a personal essay writing process and an academic research paper writing process. If you are able to master these two types of writing during high school It is our understanding that when you decide to attend college you are saying, “I have a desire to be a better writer. I want to move beyond the basic writing I’ve always done.”

I don’t know if you will ever have a moment where writing becomes more important to you, but I do know that we often encounter a number of challenges as we try to improve our craft. What seems unknown or mystical about academic writing to you?

In my experience, I often hear the following answers to this question:

  • Grammar/Language Usage
  •  Selecting and Citing other Writers in my Writing
  • I Don’t Have Anything Important/New to Say

The Parts of our Language

The English language derives from a variety of Germanic, Romanic and Latin roots. If you were to study the history of the English language you find that at certain points in the history of England the language spoken by the common people, now the most widely spoken language in the world, nearly collapsed several times. But it survived and is still growing rapidly throughout the world.

The words in our language serve 8 different roles:

  • Nouns
  • Verbs
  • Adjectives
  • Adverbs
  • Conjunctions
  • Prepositions
  • Articles
  • Interjections

These different parts of speech can be assembled to build sentences. The 10 patterns in the English language that codify nearly 98% of all sentences in the English language are:


When you understand how these pieces are parts can bring together the simple sentences, you also begin to understand how other parts can be added correctly. With practice you begin to build confidence with the language and your communication across all platforms begins to improve dramatically.

Saying What Other People Say

The best book I have read lately on academic writing is They Say; I Say: The Moves that Matter in Academic Writing  by Graff and Birkenstein. Now in its 3rd edition,  They Say, I Say shows how the parts and pieces of a well-written essay can come together for just about any college-level writer… or his or her professors.

Graff and Birkenstein give equal emphasis to the development of each critical section of an essay, the introduction, the body and the conclusion. They also provide a roadmap, of sorts, for writers to follow when making decisions about their writing.

The book illustrates how a writer can reasonably and persuasively respond to other writers without glaring and obvious bias. Take for example this segment from Dr. Martin Luther King’s famous letter he wrote in response to his fellow clergyman critics while he was held in a Birmingham jail.

You deplore the demonstrations taking place in Birmingham. But your statement, I am sorry to say, fails to express a similar concern for the conditions that brought about the demonstrations. I am sure that none of you would want to rest content with the superficial kind of social analysis that deals merely with effects and does not grapple with underlying causes. It is unfortunate that demonstrations are taking place in Birmingham, but it is even more unfortunate that the city’s white power structure left the Negro community with no alternative.

In this one segment, King accurately summarizes what his critics convey in their letter to him. His response is to appeal to their common sense in saying that while the critics are not pleased by the demonstrations being carried out in their town, they should be equally displeased by the conduct that has initiated the demonstrations.

This is clearly a sensitive and important topic to write about and King’s response is one of his more well known pieces of writing. Writing about important, and sometimes divisive, topics with multiple points of view may be part of your college writing experience. The template below shows some moves one can make when one begins to talk about a controversial or divisive topic.

A good example of this approach being used in the real world can be found just about everyday on websites like the Huffington Post. Consider this example on a timely issue, how collegiate athletes should be better compensated. And take a look at this opinion piece posted to the Cedar Rapids, IA Gazette asserting that college athletes are already paid enough.

This is a big deal. Have you heard about the scandal that surrounds top executives at the Adidas company and major college basketball programs?

What if you worked in a professional capacity (accounting, marketing, finance, etc.) for a company tied to college athletics and your supervisor assigned you the task to write a response to the New York Times article linked above? Could you do it? In this scenario, I ask that you partner with one other person seated next to you to write a response to the article as representatives from a particular discipline (i.e. accounting, marketing, finance, and the like) and a specific company or organization (i.e. Nike, Under Armor, Octagon Talent, Gatorade, or the University of Kansas). Write a response that might appear in an opinion section of a news website discussing a point of view on how college athletes are paid and what should/could be done about it–if anything at all.

Use the template to help you get started, but apply some creative license to make the rhetorical “moves” work in your favor.

Speak up!

On of my lasting impressions that I hope to leave is that your writing does matter. You never, ever know how the things you write will impact your legacy. I have seen throughout my short life the amazing insights left behind by our most prominent and most forgotten historical figures. The handwritten notes of John F. Kennedy, the etchings of a final thesis in the rock walls of the Tower of London.

I was once walking down the aisles of a grocery store back home in Wichita, KS and a woman stopped me. She said, “Are you Lynn Skillen’s son?” I was a bit shocked by the question–my dad hadn’t lived in Kansas for at least 15 years. “Yes, I am.” I said. Then, with her hands shaking, she fumbled through her wallet to find a small note written in my dad’s handwriting. It was simply a word of encouragement in a very rough time in this woman’s life. She wouldn’t let me leave the store without knowing how much that note meant to her.

Take time to write every single day. The cognitive/tactile connections that need to exist in order to make the action of writing possible are quite complex and they can only be strengthened through routine practice. The more practice time, or mental reps, that you give to yourself will only strengthen your efforts to become a masterful communicator among a population of struggling writers.

Keep a journal, sketch ideas for your academic projects on a napkin, type an email to your parents. They will love you for it.

The most important writing I do every day are the handwritten notes I send to my grandmother who recently lost her husband to Alzheimer’s disease. Watching the slow, methodic and inexplicable decline of a person’s cognitive abilities has a lasting effect. She writes me everyday in order to strengthen the cognitive connections that remain for her.

You have everything to say. Your experience is unique compared to the person sitting next to you. Your perspective, if honed and properly researched, can be the very explanation that someone needs to solve a problem or see a better solution.

Writing takes time, and it is time well spent.