Doctor of Leadership in Global Perspectives: Crafting Ministry in an Interconnected World

Where I’m From

Written by: on January 16, 2015

Pug and Labrador

In his well-written book, The Social Animal[1], David Brooks does a terrific job of explaining the human condition as it really is in all its humanity and bases his input on lots of rich research. I enjoyed the book and Brook’s style. I especially enjoyed his characters and how he develops their lives. So does it matter where one comes from? What about the nature/nurture debate? Can a person who comes from a working-class family be as successful as one who comes from an upper-class background? How does science fit in? What does the data say? In his down-to-earth style, Brooks points his readers to the research, not merely to his personal biases. This made for a fascinating read. I especially loved the chapter on self-control, a trait often missing in many young people (and older people as well) in American culture.

Erica comes from a pretty dysfunctional background. But through a series of many persistent encounters, she finds herself attending a cutting-edge, college prep school where she discovers a penchant for the game of tennis. During one particular match, Erica gets in touch with her dark side and publically “loses it” in front of many people. She is asked to leave the match. Eventually, she calms down, but not without a good dose of humiliation and shame. But the school Erica attends uses this event as a teaching opportunity for everyone to learn the value of sportsmanship. Erica had to learn how to be self-controlled. But was this a natural tendency or an acquired skill? Is self-control about merely about one’s ability to reason? Or is it about exercising strength of will? According to the research, the most important step in the decision-making process is perception. If one’s character is to be built well, a person needs more than mere reason and will. Information alone will not change behavior, nor will one’s willingness to change. I thought this was fascinating! How often do we advocate for more information, more education? But as Brooks points out, “Information programs are not very effective in changing behavior.”[2] Brooks continues:

 Perceiving is not just a transparent way of taking in. It is a thinking and skillful process. Seeing and evaluating are not two separate processes, they are linked and basically simultaneous. The research of the past thirty years suggests that some people have taught themselves to perceive more skillfully than others. The person with good character has taught herself, or been taught by those around her, to see situations in the right way. When she sees something in the right way, she’s rigged the game [italics mine]. She’s triggered a whole network of unconscious judgments and responses in her mind, biasing her to act in a certain manner. Once the game has been rigged, then reason will have a much easier time. They will be up to the task of guiding proper behavior.[3]

How we perceive our reality is imperative to one’s making good decisions and choosing healthy disciplines. One’s character is built in secret but is manifested in public. As Brooks says, “Small habits and proper etiquette reinforce certain positive ways of seeing the world.”[4]

So, what happens with Erica? Does she allow her perceptions to control her behaviors, or does she allow her behaviors to control her perceptions? Eventually, Erica learns to control both her perceptions and her behaviors in spite of her occasional stumbles. According to the text, “Those who have habits and strategies to control their attention can control their lives.”[5] With the help of her coach and input from her school, Erica builds in new habits and exercises, new strategies, and discovers a healthier side of her ability to cope with stresses in her life. But her life does not change over night. It takes time; it takes work. But it does change, as Brooks continues his narrative.

I went to an important workshop with my wife in June 2013. “The Center for Courage and Renewal,” an organization begun by Parker Palmer, one of my favorite authors, hosted this one-day workshop. The focus of the day was to examine The Thread You Follow in your life. This concept was birthed through a poem by William Stafford called “The Way It Is.”


There is a thread you follow. It goes among

things that change. But it doesn’t change.

People wonder about what you are pursuing.

You have to explain about the thread.

But it is hard for others to see.

While you hold it you can’t get lost.

Tragedies happen; people get hurt

or die; and you suffer and get old.

Nothing you can do can stop time’s unfolding.

You don’t ever let go of the thread.

Throughout the day, our group of twenty people did a lot of personal reflection. The pedagogy utilized that day spoke deeply to me and to my life as an educator. We examined a lot of poetry and then shared our insights – sometimes some pretty deep stuff – with others in the room in several small-group sessions. I am not a “touchy-feely” person, but like Erica I ended up getting in touch with some good insights about myself that have been helpful ever since. I recommend this organization’s retreats to anyone who is looking to grow more deeply in personal self-awareness. It was a refreshing break from a traditional classroom.

Another poem we explicated was called “Where I’m From.” The author of the piece is George Ella Lyon. The poem is an honest look at one’s personal history.


 I am from clothespins,

from Clorox and carbon tetrachloride.

I am from the dirt under the back porch.

(Black, glistening

it tasted like beets.)

I am from the forsythia bush,

the Dutch elm

whose long gone limbs I remember

as if they were my own.


I’m from fudge and eyeglasses,

from Imogene and Alafair.

I’m from the know-it-alls and the pass-it-ons,

from perk up and pipe down.

I’m from He restoreth my soul with a cottonball lamb

and ten verses I can say myself.


I’m from Artemus and Billie’s Branch,

fried corn and strong coffee.

From the finger my grandfather lost to the auger

the eye my father shut to keep his sight.

Under my bed was a dress box

spilling old pictures,

a sift of lost faces

to drift beneath my dreams.


I am from those moments–

snapped before I budded–

leaf-fall from the family tree


Our response to this piece was to come up with a like piece, summarizing our own identity. These words flowed from my pen as I contemplated the concept of where I was from:


I am from a hand-carried Samovar from Russian Revolution days.

I am 2. I am 9. I am 25, 41, and 57.


I am shaped by friends and mentors

by the Harolds and Arthurs

by the Dennises and Ramons.


I am Mexican, Egyptian, Rwandan, British, Russian.

I am African in thought – eastern more than western.


I am moods downward and moods upward – mostly upward.

I am fulfilled – Debbiefied, Dorothyfied, Arthurfied.


I am teacher, mentor, coach, tutor –

shaped and shaping.


I am biology, religion,

heretic, free.


I am lost and found

I am others but am also me.


I am Teacher Man and tattoo.

I am a fraud by not really.

I am lies and truth.


I am paradox.

I question, ponder, push, inquire, change,

and change some more.


I am writer and fighter.

I am pug and Labrador.

I am wise; I am foolish.

I am bound; I am free.


I am health and leader –

formed by incompetence and by wisdom.


I am new.

I am glad.

I am guitars and samovars.


Like Erica, my background was not always full of hope. My parents struggled to get by. Their marriage was filled with pain and misunderstanding. Although they stayed together, I wouldn’t say my parents were close. They did their own thing. Dad hunted and fished a lot; sometimes I tagged along. Mom drank quietly, secretly, desperately. There was not a lot of good modeling on self-control. In fact, to this day there is still not much positive mental health in my family. But I vowed to be different. “I am writer and fighter. I am pug and Labrador.” Like Erica, with the help of others, I have become healthier. But it has been an uphill battle. One’s roots do affect one’s life. But one is never hopeless if he or she is willing to work, willing to change, willing to grow. We are not scripted to fail – unless we choose to follow the script we have been given at birth. Where I’m from is not necessarily where I will end up. And the cool thing is that we could start this new journey any time, even today.


[1] David Brooks. The Social Animal: The Hidden Sources of Love, Character and Achievement (New York: Random House, 2011)

[2] Ibid., 126.

[3] Ibid., 127.

[4] Ibid., 128.

[5] Ibid., 131.

About the Author

Bill Dobrenen

I am a husband, father, and educator. I love my wife, my two amazing children, and my students. My dissertation research is on the importance of Traditional Native-American Tribal Leadership Practices. Being in the LGP program is a gift from God for me during this season of my life. I look forward to another great year with my LGP4 cohort.

8 responses to “Where I’m From”

  1. Telile Fikru Badecha says:

    Hi Bill, Thank you for your thoughtful post. I love your poem. I agree with you that information alone will not change behavior. Like you say, one has to be willing to work, willing to change, willing to grow. Also, we need the help of mentors, friends, and community of faith where we can share our fears and faith.

    • Telile,

      Thanks for your feedback. Yes, we do need communities of faith where we can share our fears and faith. But where are these communities? They don’t come out of nowhere. A group of people is not necessarily a community, even if they are Christian. In fact, often one cannot share deeply in such groups, even if they are Christian. Doubt, questions, and dialogue are often considered unacceptable in many groups. We need more places where we can be humans as well as merely people of faith. The last I looked, Christians were still 100% human. And Jesus made it OK to be human. I am glad for this.

  2. Bill…
    You have taken the vastness of Brooks work and made it tangible and in some important ways concise. You have translated and applied in such a clear sense what Social Animal speaks to and speaks about. You mentioned, “Does she allow her perceptions to control her behaviors, or does she allow her behaviors to control her perceptions? Eventually, Erica learns to control both her perceptions and her behaviors in spite of her occasional stumbles.” This speaks so well to the process of human development and the potential within us, sometimes unknown, sometimes hidden. My challenge in this book with several things beginning this week was to find my attention. Quoting Brooks you recognized, “Those who have habits and strategies to control their attention can control their lives.” This reminds me of my inner desire and urge to control my attention (which is for the ADD inclined pulled not only in one direction). It is a learning edge to develop and practice habits that are sustaining and life-giving and to become adaptable and responsive to change. Control is both something to hold and something to release. How did you see Harold and Erica integrating this? It seems to unfold, you think? Thank you as well Bill for sharing the poem and your poem with us …. so well understood. Blessings…

    • Carol,

      Thanks for your kind and wise remarks. I especially like your comment, “Control is both something to hold and something to release.” Yes, this is paradoxical. When do we hold on to control and when do we let go? That is a good question. Being a very “High D” in the DISC behavioral assessment, I admit that I like being in control. Another way of saying this is that I don’t like to be out of control. I am not sure if this is good or not. Balanced is probably a better way to be. But at least for now, I would rather be in control. I know that sounds selfish, but it is what it is. I am working on this in my life. Perhaps this semester’s work studying Native-American spirituality will bring some balance. I will let you know in Hong Kong.

      Thanks again for sharing here!

  3. Ashley says:

    Bill, this is beautiful. From your reflection and connection with Brooks, to your weaving of the poetic pieces, every word breathes feeling and emotion. Your last paragraph touched home for me. Several times this week, I spoke to my “boys”. As you said, “One’s roots do affect one’s life.” They had a tumultuos childhood, followed by some stable years, and now they are out on their own. One of them had hit upon some rough times and began to use his upbringing as an excuse. I stopped him, and said he had a choice. He could use the failures of others and their effects on him as an excuse and crutch, or he could make the choice to use those circumstances to reach the next level, to study harder, to learn more, to grow more, to not become his father. It was a choice. An intentional, every day choice. Perhaps that is just me speaking my own truth… I had a choice to make. I could let divorced parents, a chaotic childhood and crazy illnesses dictate who I am…or I could make the choice to live my life with joy and forgiveness, peace and patience, and the great love my grandparents showered upon me. God gives this fruit of the spirit, complete with self-control, and everyday I have to make that choice to rely upon the Spirit.

    ….Clearly I got off on a tangent there. With all that you have been through, Bill, I praise God that He has seen you through. And I praise Him even more that you shepherd others to find their calling and niche and relationship wtih God. You ask the right questions and call others to do the same. I really do want to be in your class!!

    Enough from me for one day 🙂

  4. John Woodward says:

    Brother Bill, what a thoughtful and touching post. It seems over the last couple of years that you have grown and blossomed as a person in so many ways, opening yourself more to God and to others. It was been wonderful to witness the process and see the wonderful person you have become today. I think you are so right in the need to process who we are and where we came from. It might be a sign of aging (I like to call it growing in wisdom) that we begin to see the tangled wed we have become from the many strings that bind us through life. And the more of life we experience, the broader and wider this web reaches. I like your final thoughts, where you list who you are….I see myself in many of the same complex and varied relationships. It reminds me of Brian McClaren’s book “Generous Orthodoxy” – where he essentially claims to be a little of everything. I am feeling more that way as time goes on. It is a joy to know that we will continue to grow and learn and develop till the very end…it never ends! And that is a good thing! Thanks Bill, you inspire me!

  5. Richard Volzke says:

    Thank you for sharing. Like you, I’ve had to allow Christ to work within my own life to overcome issues from living in unhealthy environments growing up. You said, “If one’s character is to be built well, a person needs more than mere reason and will. Information alone will not change behavior, nor will one’s willingness to change.” In the Christian world today, it seems every other person is writing self help books. Just walk into any Christian bookstore and you find row after row of books on how to improve yourself. I agree that books can help a person to change, but I believe that it is through relationships that a person grows. God has called us into relationship with Himself and each other. It is through relationship that one changes and matures. For many years, I tried to overcome my issues by myself. However, until I surrendered to Christ my efforts were futile.

  6. Clint Baldwin says:


    I love that Brooks’ text brought you to the place of poetry. I imagine Brooks would fully affirm – though I don’t think this is one of his primary languages (I hope I’m wrong). Poetry fits with what I see as his hope; reconnecting us with our depths. “Deep calls out to deep.” The kind of community that ends up being biblical without even knowing it. Or perhaps more snarkily, the kind of biblicism that ends up being communal despite itself. 😉

    Brooks’ “small habits” is such a poignant takeaway. So much that is vital transpires here. I’m not surprised that such phrase led you to Stafford and Palmer. I’m more surprised that Brooks found his way here — miracles do happen! 🙂

    As you note, “It takes time; it takes work. But it does change…”

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