Working with The Unexpected

This past week I accepted a job as a kindergarten substitute teacher. To my surprise, I had a second-grade class to teach when I arrived. The inner child in me wanted to pitch a fit and leave, but the teacher in me decided to work with the unexpected. That got me wondering how others respond to the unexpected in life. How do you respond to the unexpected? (No, really. Please share.)

Unexpected things in life can be both good and bad. You could get a promotion, that’s good. You could get a pink slip, that’s not so good. The doctor could give you a clean bill of health, or the doctor could pronounce the dreaded disease of cancer. A tree could fall on your house in a storm, or someone could rear end your brand-new car. Your favorite person could pay you a surprise visit. You could find out you’re having twins. The best restaurant ever could go out of business. The one you love could propose. Life is filled with unexpected challenges and pleasures. Sometimes we have to learn to work with them whether we want to or not. We would all rather walk away from disappointment and choose only the “good” things, but that’s not the way of life.

Many years ago, I thought I had achieved my dream occupation as an educator. A friend, my spiritual leader and I joined forces and founded a Chrisitan school. The school grew out of an academic summer camp I had been running for years. We named the school after my great grandparents Will and Mariah Jackson. We started with pre-kindergarten through second grade. Each year we added another grade until we reached grade five. Everything was going well. My godson handled the bookkeeping. My friend’s wife handled the day-to-day office work. The staff was well qualified, and the students were learning and enjoying their teachers and activities. Everything seemed to fall in place. We bought new furnishings for our classrooms from a local school district. A donor gave us enough computers to start a computer lab. This had been my dream for years because my children had been products of this type of school in California. My partner and I were happy with the impact of our little school. Then the unthinkable happened.

One cold winter night, my friend’s wife called me, “He’s gone,” she said. My friend, my spiritual advisor, my business partner had died. Out of nowhere he had a massive heart attack. There were no signs prior to this that warned us. There was no opportunity to bargain or change paths. It was devastating to everyone, especially his wife and family. Grief and sadness filtered down to everyone that knew him – the students, the staff, the members of his congregation, organizational leaders, and even the community at large. Even as I look back now, it hurts my heart. The loss was tremendous, and the empty space could never be filled by another. Eventually, I crumbled, and the school closed.

Why am I talking about this now? Because we live with the unexpected every day. Big things, like the one I just conveyed, and small things like having a cavity. The unexpected is to be expected. Mass shootings at schools, shopping centers, and places of worship; random stray bullets barrowing into homes; senior citizens being scammed out of their life savings; women and children being abducted off the streets, and major companies closing their doors for good are just a few of the unexpected things that can and do occur in our world today. On the flip side there are good, unexpected things as well – new community alliances that pass out food and clothing to the needy; the revitalization of Neighborhood Watch programs; young entrepreneurs creating new jobs; free lunch programs for school-aged children; and unexpected benefactors paying off student debt at the local HBCU. So many unexpected things can happen at any given moment.

Sometimes I find myself trying to explain the world to my 91-year-old mother and my 21-year-old granddaughter. Mom wants to know why things can’t go back to the way they used to be, and my granddaughter wants to know what to expect in the future when things are always changing. Mom experienced loss in so many ways during the pandemic – loss of friends and community, loss of the ability to drive and socialize, loss of freedom – she had to learn to live in a new kind of normal for her own safety. My granddaughter graduated from high school during the pandemic. There was no prom, no graduation ceremony, and no community celebration. Her first semesters at college were spent on-line in the dorm room rather than in person. None of the expected challenges or standards seem to exist in her new world. In other words, mom is trying to adjust to the impersonal world of technology and AI, while my granddaughter is trying to adjust to being thrusted into adulthood with all its responsibilities and none of its former assurances. Each of them – all of us – must learn to work with the unexpected.

We can’t allow the unexpected to leave us halted in fear. We can’t allow the unexpected to styme our growth or our dreams. We shouldn’t just stop in our tracks and wait for the next blessing or disaster to get us moving again. Nor can we allow corruption in high places to corrupt our moral compass and values. We must learn to work with the unexpected, because the unexpected is not going away. We have the tools to do it. We can network with like-minded people. We can elevate our problem-solving skills through study, lectures, think tanks, and podcasts. We can adjust our schedules, become change agents, form or change our inner circles while taking advantage of technology and interpersonal relations. We can work with the unexpected. We simply need to make and stick with a plan to move forward.

I have a friend who says you always need a plan C. C stands for courage, and we all need that when plan A and B fail. Plan C will help us ask for help. Plan C will help us admit it when we are wrong. Plan C will give us the ability to start over. Plan C will allow us to celebrate the victories of others even when our victories stop coming. Plan C will help us navigate and work with the unexpected with a “we can” spirit. In the Words of the Pointer Sisters, and for Women’s History Month, I leave you with the lyrics of their song: “...I know we can make it. I know dare well we can work it out. Oh yes, we can, I know we can, can. Yes, we can, can…” With a little courage, we can work with the unexpected.