We are often, in this blog, looking at what we are doing, our application of the knowledge
and skills inherent in practicing user-centered design. Rightly so, for that
was the purpose of the blog. But, today, I want to step back and look at something
which is the guiding force for whatever we do and that is, who we are.
A story from LA Congress
The booth was emptying as the attendees made their
way to their next session. As a couple folks checked out at the
registers, I watched as a gentleman entered the booth from the other side and
walked across the carpet. He walked with a cane as he slowly but purposefully
made his way over to the table where I stood. He wasn't looking for information.
He didn't want to buy a product. He wanted to tell me about a man and a story
about the beginnings. The press' beginnings.
As he began talking about the press, I asked him if
he wanted a chair. "No, I'm fine," he said as he stood with his cane and
held onto to the table as we talked. I was as eager to make him more
comfortable as he was eager to tell me about this man and about his time at
SMU. He told me about his memories of Brother Alphonsus Pluth.
He told me about how he remembered the beginnings
of the press, how it began in the basement of St Mary's Hall on the campus of
St Mary's University of MN.
He told me about Brother Alphonsus and how he would
play his cello at night.
His memory was clear and vibrant and as he spoke of
these memories, he had a brightness in his eyes.
I've heard Saint Mary’s Press’ story many times. I've
heard the facts and the events in the order in which they unfolded.
But this man shared about these events as only
someone who lived them could, and introduced me (again) to a man I've never met
but whose legacy lives on in both its importance and its practice.
When I think about LA Congress 2013, I know that I
was excited to see our customers’ delighted reception to the Catholic
Children's Bible as well as the reception people had to all of our new products
and our digital texts.
But upon further reflection, I've realized that the brief conversation I had
with this man also carried with it a profound meaning and an important
reminder. A reminder about who we are, where we come from and why we exist as
an organization. A reminder about our humble yet persistent beginnings. Most
important, it provided me a glimpse into the life of the man whose legacy lives
on in the work we each do every day.
This conversation reminded me to always remember the man
and to never forget the vision. That- what we do- must always stay grounded in who we are.
For this, I am grateful.
