Since the moment I laid eyes on my children, gasping their first breaths, I have been in love with and in awe of each one. I remember seeing my firstborn, precious Amerie Grace, and thinking, “I have changed the world, because she is here now.”

Kevin and I literally burst with overwhelming pride and pleasure when we consider the gifts and talents of our children. They are extraordinary: Amerie’s laser focus; Adrianna’s indominable determination; Paul’s confounding logic. 

We tried to instill the realization that accompanying these great blessings is a great responsibility to make the world a better place. “To whom much is given, much is required.” Our hope is that the advantages we were blessed to give them, and their innate abilities, will move them to positively touch the lives of others; that they will continue to look inward for ways to reach outward.

Paul has been a great example to me in living this principle.

The other day I had to drop him off at the civic center and was making the turn into the circle-drive directly in front of the building.  “No, no, no, Mom!” he cried, putting his hands on the dashboard. “Just drop me off in the parking lot.” Whipping the car back into the parking area, I turned to him exasperated and said, “What? I’m taking you to the front door.” “Mom,” he patiently explained. “I don’t need to be dropped off at the front door. I’m just a Regular Joe and I can walk from the parking lot like everyone else.”

I mean, I wasn’t going to open the car door for him or throw flower petals at his feet as he stepped out. Yet the simple act of walking the extra steps with his fellow classmates seemed important to him. Special treatment, real or perceived; awards, and praise, of any kind, makes him uncomfortable. What is that? I’m still trying to name it. 

Throughout Paul’s foundational years, we have encouraged him to take the lead in school and community related activities. We see in him qualities, such as the patience to persevere, to simplify the complicated, to unearth an issue to its root, that make him a candidate for leadership roles. 

Seeking prominence and authority just isn’t Paul’s style. He’d rather come along side someone and assist in their struggle or collaborate with a team to accomplish a goal.  This is termed “Leading from Behind,” and it’s not flashy or glorious.

Nelson Mandela puts it like this, “A leader … is like a shepherd. He stays behind the flock, letting the most nimble go out ahead, whereupon the others follow, not realizing that all along they are being directed from behind.” 

He let me read his Salutatorian speech that he will deliver during graduation ceremonies. It is good and simple, much like its orator. As usual, Paul gets to the crux of the matter rather quickly. According to my guy, life and its purpose all boils down to loving. He describes how simple and desirable this action is, but how challenging it can be to put into practice.

There is great purpose behind Paul’s eyes; a reason that is still unfolding.  I am seeing a man emerge from boyhood. 

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So, if you see my boy around, there’s no need to laud him or even slap him on the back. Just get alongside him, put him on your team, ask him to work. He’s a Regular Joe and that makes me the proudest mom in the world.