Growing up poor and having parents who didn’t receive a good education, I often struggled at school. What was worse, my parents often moved to different places. They likely did not realize the damaging effects it had on my learning as they moved from apartment to apartment, year after year. I attended seven different schools from kindergarten through the 8th grade. With a fragmented (片段的) education, I entered high school, not doing well in literacy and math. But it was not until I attended a major public state university that I really understood the academic gaps that I had in comparison to my peers. I had to work particularly hard to not only understand the textbooks and lectures, but also catch myself up in basic skills of writing and comprehension. But I wasn’t the one to forgo. No matter how hard it was, I persisted.

Today, I have many degrees, three of them are Master’s Degrees and I am currently in my second year of studying for my doctorate in Educational Leadership.

I share my story for various reasons, but mainly due to the hope that another young child, possibly growing up poor, can realize that an education is the ticket to the quality of life. It can happen for that child. One can be successful! One can overcome all obstacles.

Some days will be extremely tougher than others and someday those accomplishments will glow (发光), but giving up is not a wise choice. It certainly won’t lead to the light at the end of the tunnel. Therefore, we should take advantage of the challenges and difficulties to make us stronger and reflect on how to beat all the differences. We should foster our thinking that current challenges have been designed to build upon our strength, not tear us down. In this way, we can fulfill our long-term goals.

Stories are a powerful way to communicate. We all learn through stories. I’ve raised a three-step formula anyone can use to create powerful stories that will help you make your point. First, identify your truth. Second, think of the decisive experiences that have led you to this "truth". Third, shape those experiences into a story that you can tell at the drop of a hat. Here’s an example of how I have used this formula.

Years ago, I had an assignment to conduct a team-building session. The client was my friend. I arrived at his office 5: 00 p. m. the day before our session. He asked me if I had an agenda for tomorrow’s meeting. I told him that, first we'll do A, then B, followed by C. We’ll finish up with D. Still he asked if I had an agenda.

At first, I thought he hadn’t been listening to what I just said, so I repeated myself, "First we'll do A, then B, followed by C. We’ll finish up with D. "He said," Yes, I know. That's what you just said. Do you have an agenda?

At that point, it dawned on me that he was looking for a printed agenda. I said, "No, but we really don't need one. I’ve done many meetings like this. It will go fine.” He said, “I’m not comfortable winging it.” So we created an agenda using Powerpoint. The next day, the meeting went off smoothly. We followed the agenda I had in my head and he had on the PowerPoint slide. Everyone agreed it was one of the best meetings of this type they had ever attended.

It became clear to me that if I want to influence not just this client, but anyone, I need to adapt my communication style to theirs. From that day on, I modify my communication style to meet the needs of the other person.

Anniversary trips were a tradition that was nearly as old as our marriage. Each year, Jim and I took turns planning a secret trip for the other. I finally found a perfect spot: The Shire of Montana. It was a “hobbit house”. And our six-year-old daughter, Aurora, would also love it.

I was about to make a reservation when I saw a note on The Shire’s website: No kids allowed. We couldn’t leave Aurora behind. I asked if an exception might be possible. A reply came. “The rule exists because previous children destroyed large parts of the Elven Village,” wrote Mr. Michaels, the owner. “But if you promise that your daughter is responsible and will not touch anything, she can come.” Aurora was a well-behaved girl. I wrote back and filled in the reservation form.

The day finally arrived. I was excited very much. Still, turning onto Hobbit Lane, I felt anxious. “Children aren’t usually allowed here,” I reminded Aurora. “So you have to be very careful. You can look at everything, but don’t touch it.”

Then we began our journey. Aurora took everything in, keeping her hands pressed to her sides. “Remember, no touching,” I reminded Aurora, feeling like a complainer. Had I made Aurora so scared of touching things that she couldn’t think about anything else? What fun was that?

We spent several days at the Shire. I finally found that Aurora delighted in each discovery but never disturbed a thing. Being aware of boundaries didn’t take away the beauty and wonder; it allowed the Shire to remain beautiful. It was not so different from our family life, I thought. Jim and I moved through life side by side as a couple, but we’d learned to accept each other’s individuality and boundaries as well.