Bittersweet

October 27, 2014

Back in June of last year I started IMS. Graduation felt like it was 20 years away, even though it was only technically like 19 months away. And every week and month that passed, as we took more and more turns in front of the firehose of information pointed at us that summer, December 2014 just kept getting further and further in the distance. My brain took on a freshman’s mentality, where graduation was so far away, there was no reason to even worry about it.

Even as this Fall 2014 semester started, graduation was just around the corner but it still felt like a far off distance event. Well now it’s less than two months away, and it’s really hitting me. It’s bitter sweet for so many reasons.

I’ve made some truly amazing friendships in a really short period of time. You bond pretty quickly during high stress situations and the stress-relief activities that follow. I was an English major in college and a journalism student in my first grad school experience. So group projects were few and far between. Business school has been a completely new experience. We formed study groups almost immediately back in IMS, since we were getting so much accounting, finance, economics, and business math concepts thrown at us on a daily basis. I spent countless hours in the break out rooms that summer, by myself and with friends, wrestling with credits and debits, net present value, and with aggregate supply demand curves. It’s a special bond you make when you’re struggling to learn information at breakneck speed and sometimes the professor’s explanation makes no sense whatsoever. I’ve mentioned before how grateful I have been for the generosity of time and patience classmates extended to me that summer and in the semesters that followed.

Then the Fall 2013 semester started, and we were presented with a bunch of new people at orientation. And you better believe us IMS folks were a tightly wound clique. But then that new batch of people were all awesome and good, smart people. And we went through that semester, which was one of the most stressful I’ve ever been through. Every class felt like an oral exam. Regurgitating facts was never going to be enough. And then all the presentations we gave in our classes and in our Management Communication class. And we welcomed the “new” people into our circles of friends, camaraderie developed in the classroom, in late evening study sessions, and over laughs on the weekends.

I’ve grown so much over the last year and a half and made friendships that I know will last the rest of my life. From the summer IMS trip to the Cleveland Correction Center for the Prison Entrepreneurship Program to the Spring 2014 trip to Nike HQ in Beaverton, Oregon for Focus Firm, I’ve had some amazing experiences with some amazing people. And I’m really, really going to miss them all.

But at the same time I’m ready for the next chapter of life. I’m ready to use all these newly acquired skills and newly forged confidence. I’m looking forward to hearing about how successful my classmates are going to be. I’ve no doubt there a spattering of CEOs and chief financial officers in the bunch.

I can’t wait to cheer their successes, even if sometimes only through virtual fist pumps brokered by Facebook or text message.

 

 

A day in prison

August 3, 2013

Filed under: IMS Summer 2013,Prison Entrepreneurship Program — carlosgieseken @ 5:49 am

I was anxious. Not because I was wearing my uncomfortable dress shoes. It was because I was standing in a line of people, usually one or two abreast, in a hallway of the Cleveland Correctional Center, near Houston. Like Dorothy before us, we had been instructed not to step outside of the yellow-striped lines on the floor. They led from the visitation room, where we were welcomed and told about the day’s activities, out the building and into the gymnasium.

The 10 of us who had driven down from Waco the morning of July 19 had already been briefed about the Prisoner Entrepreneurship Program by members of the organization’s staff. As volunteers, we were there to help affect change in a prisoner’s life. Starting in the fall semester, we will help them with personal statements and business plans. Today was the kickoff for Class 20 of the program. Of the 154,000 inmates in the Texas prison system, 1,000 applied for the PEP. The 105 who were selected awaited us in the unit’s gymnasium. All were within 3 years of being released.

Lining up, I noticed that every window in the hallway was a tall skinny opening, probably 5 or so inches wide at the most. We had already gone through the metal detector and a pat-down by security guards. Our driver’s licenses were filed away in the check-in desk. We’d been told that we would get time for one-on-one meetings with the program participants. Beyond that, I didn’t know what to expect.

Approaching the door to the gymnasium, I heard cheering erupt as the volunteers ahead of me entered. I approached the door and saw men in navy blue prison uniforms cheering for us, their hands in the air and forming a two sided tunnel made of hands, tattoos, and cheering, smiling faces. I walked through the door and was amazed / petrified at what I saw. All I saw were inmates. Like real, honest-to-God inmates. I did my best to high-five every hand on the way through. I kept seeing tattoos. And kept trying not to look at tattos. Which made me want to look at them some more.

After the receiving line, which kind of made me feel like I was on Soul Train a little bit, there were more inmates who were lined up to shake our hands.

It was a tremendous mix of emotions. On one hand, I was scared out of my mind. I had no idea there’d be so many prisoners around. And they looked like prisoners that had walked out of the movies or TV. But at the same time, I was overcome by the sheer joy and positive energy that was in that gymnasium. From the first minute until we would leave later that afternoon, the inmates, who I will refer to from now on as program participants, went out of their way to make us feel welcomed and appreciated.

Later, I turned to my classmate and fellow volunteer, Rich Lubbers, “So this is what it’s like to be Payton Manning.” I’d never felt so welcome before. The recurring theme throughout the next hours was one of gratitude. Program participants were truly grateful we were there.

One of the coolest parts was the one-on-one meetings we had. The 10 or so I spoke to, 10 minutes at a time, ranged in age from early 20s to early 40s. Many times I would look at the person in front of me and forget they were a prisoner. All were extremely polite and excited about the program. We largely talked about their initial business ideas. I thought about how we were in the same shoes, looking for a business education.

After the program activities, those of us who were volunteers switched roles and formed the two-sided high-five line as participants made their way out of the gym.