When large numbers of staff are hired at the same time it is a good practice to pull the team together for an orientation of sorts. It gives them a chance to get to know each other, but more importantly it’s a chance to introduce them all at one time to the company’s culture and rules, leadership staff, the physical workplace and more. It’s an efficient use of time, and an opportunity to establish high expectations for them and to set a vision about what success in their work looks like. In parks and recreation, this often happens at the beginning of the summer when a large number of camp counselors, lifeguards, park workers, and front-of-house staff join the team. This time of year excites me, and I make it a priority to be at as many of the orientations as possible to help leadership staff set high expectations.

One of my expectations for camp counselors in particular, but it can apply to all jobs, is that “If you’re not having fun, you’re not doing the job right.” Explaining that will have to wait for another post, but it relates to this one in that through parks and recreation – in all job capacities – we make magic.

Through our labor we create opportunities for people to make memories, connect with others, improve their health, express themselves, and get creative. Sometimes it’s as simple as building a park and plopping a playground in it so families can come and bond at their leisure. Other times it’s as complex and risk-filled as building an outdoor aquatics center with slides, diving boards, varying depths, fountains, dozens of trained staff to watch for people at risk, and the risk of death and drowning. But, oh the payoff and reward! When a park or recreation venue has the opportunity for staff to be there, that’s when the opportunity for magic is primed. And the people hired to work it are taught in my organization how special their job is and what magic looks like. I often tell this personal story (as it was told to me by my family) about how magic often happens when you’re not even trying, you’re just being your awesome self in a positive setting.

The summer we first arrived in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, my wife took our daughters to one of the outdoor aquatic facilities they are blessed with to check it out. The girls were 8 or 9 years old at the time. The Cherry Hill Aquatic Center (above) has a couple of waterslides that start about 40 feet in the air, the kind of slides you have to hike up several flights of stairs to reach the top, and then they swoosh you back to the pool basin through various twists, turns and drops. Our oldest daughter, Abbey, hiked to the top of the stairs and waited her turn, all the while getting more and more anxious about the height. At the time she was a relatively timid child (she’s a badass athlete and coach today), and to add to her frustration her younger sister, Anna, was a little fearless. When it was her turn, Abbey was scared and wouldn’t get in the slide, but she wouldn’t do the walk of shame down the stairs either. So she stood there while other kids took turns. The lifeguard there was fun, engaging, and started to encourage her. Kids kept skipping past her. She could see them coming out the bottom safely and hear the joy, but she was scared. Occasionally she’d dip a toe or step into the slide, but she’d step out before shoving off and taking the ride.

About every 15 or 20 minutes, the lifeguards rotate stations, and another lifeguard took over at the top and helped swimmers safely enter the slides. This next lifeguard was also encouraging, and as some kids (including Anna) were coming through for their second or third trips while Abbey stood there, some excitement and familiarity and calm was brewing among all of them. Another fifteen minutes or so, and another lifeguard rotation happened. Even though Abbey may have simply been enjoying the circle of friends she was making, she was also building up her courage. So at one point, she though she was ready. The lifeguard at the top got all the kids to chant for her, “Abbey! Abbey! Abbey!” She stepped in, I imagine she took a massive breath and closed her eyes, and she went for it. She took the ride, plunged into the pool at the bottom, and surfaced to cheers that erupted all around her – from the top of the slide, from parents on the nearby pool deck, and from swimmers who heard the chanting and turned to watch. She had a massive smile on her face when she came up! It was partially from the fun, but more that she found the courage to push herself. It was magic! What made it better was the first lifeguard who was now two stations away took the time to come over to her, call her by her name, smile, congratulate her, and give her a high five. Abbey grew a million feet tall. Magic.

When I was told that story at dinner that night I of course beamed with pride for both Abbey and my staff at the pool. I asked the family if they got the names of the lifeguards, and I only got a description of the first one, a young man with blonde hair and red sunglasses. Of course I told the Aquatics Manager about it the next day, but I never figured out who the individual lifeguards were. It really was a victory for the whole team at Cherry Hill. They seemed to dismiss it as routine, something they see all the time. To my daughter and our family it was monumental.

Each time I tell this story in a training session with staff, I point out to them that they are in positions where they have opportunities to make another person’s day better with gestures as simple as a smile or using the sweetest word in any language – a person’s name. It doesn’t matter their age, the setting, or the activity. It’s the human connection that matters, and we all need that connection and the pick-me-ups when we can get them.

The following summer the pool staff orientation took place. We’d hire about 150 lifeguards and cashiers each summer to operate the five outdoor pools, so the orientation is divided into two smaller groups and done twice. I was able to greet one of the groups, told the story, the staff were excited by the “Bravo!” and got the lesson, and the day and season went on. Many more opportunities for magic that summer.

The next year, though, the story took a twist. Orientation was held in two days with a divided staff again. I was able to make both of the trainings and set expectations, pass some recognition to the staff, and tell this story about magic. Each time I tell the story I get choked up with pride as it is, but on this Saturday I told the story and described the first lifeguard … a young man with blonde hair and red sunglasses. There was a stir in the crowd, because this year he was there to hear it. The story was now two years old (which made him at least a third-year guard now, a leader among his peers) and he had apparently missed the day I told it the previous year, but while hearing it this time he mentioned to his friends sitting nearby that he remembered that day. They got excited, and one of his buddies in an attempt to embarrass him sat up tall, waived his arms at me and pointed his hands at this lifeguard saying, “It was him!” The kid was embarrassed by the attention. I asked him in front of the audience of 80 or so people if he remembered it. He said he did, smiled proudly, and downplayed it a little while ducking his head. I thanked him directly and told him how much his actions meant to Abbey and the family and to me as his Director, and then, recognizing his embarrassment, I shifted the spotlight off him and returned to the audience pointing out how small moments make all the difference. His teammates and supervisors were just as proud of him as I was as a parent.

The following Monday, the Risk Manager for the City stopped by my office and asked to see me. He came into my office and said in a rather officious tone that he had heard about our pool staff orientations over the weekend. I waited for something to be wrong in a risk management sort of way. He proceeded to tell me that his son was on the staff team and was there when I told the story about making magic. Then he welled up with prideful tears and told me it was his son in the red sunglasses who I had celebrated and thanked.

More magic!