My Story (From Elders Quorum)
Terry and I walk a lot. Sometimes we walk up the hills. Sometimes it’s flat. Other times we’re walking down. It’s kind of like life.
She asks me why I’m down and so hard on myself. I have to think because I don’t really know. I’ve done a lot in my life and in my career. I think back in time. Some things would not be believed by many. They certainly would have never been guessed by my teachers and friends growing up.
As a kid in the 70s and early 80s I was extremely shy and would get anxious if I had to talk in front of people, or even order at a drive thru. It’s surprising to many who knew me then that I have performed in stadiums, on national television, and even for the President. They’re surprised I became that good of a performer and speaker.
They are amazed to learn I have been interviewed on television, radio, quoted in national and international publications, and spoken to auditoriums full of people. That wasn’t the Randy they knew.
I think back to the mid- to late 80s in Norman. I loved being at OU. My professors and friends believed in me. They built me up, and I became a leader. In some circles, I became THE leader. That gave me confidence in myself, and I felt unstoppable.
As I reflect on my career, it’s really been amazing; especially for a shy kid from a small rural town where many who are born there never leave.
I’ve won many national and international awards for my work over the years. I’ve met with, dined with, and have casually conversed with movie stars, musicians, models, senators and representatives at state and federal levels, governors, even Presidents and First Ladies. Heck, I’m even friends with a rock n roll superstar.
In my very first job out of grad school I was an executive. I’ve written testimony that’s been read before both US Congress and state legislatures. I’ve discussed fishing places in Oklahoma with a US vice president and wrote talking points for my governor, George W Bush, during his run for the Presidency. My media campaign about gun safety got the attention of the Texas Attorney General and was put into Texas law, and my campaign to get people healthy and stop using tobacco was copied by tribal nations and the State of Oklahoma. The US Centers of Disease Control called that campaign brilliant and sent me on a speaking tour across the US to share my plan with others.
With all the good, though, life is tough. A high school sweetheart that was supposed to be an eternal companion went rogue and became an addict, leaving me as a single dad of two very little girls. I went to my Heavenly Father begging for help, and He sent us an angel to join our family as a companion and a mom.
I had a great 14-year career with my tribal nation, working for my Native people. Politics, though, is hard to work in on all levels, and tribal politics are every bit as bad as federal, or even worse. We see the hate in our country now, but with tribes, you’re closer. It’s your family and neighbors and friends. When a new regime came in, I wanted out. I didn’t believe in their ways.
I started my own PR firm. It’s hard being on your own. Trying to find clients, then do the work while trying to find more. I’ve done all these great things, but I can’t get people to listen or trust me to help them. Many think they can do it themselves. It’s a curse of my profession. I try my best to trust in my Heavenly Father to open doors to businesses that need my help. I pay my tithing, but 10 percent of $0 is $0, and that’s scary. We have bills and we want to serve a mission. I pray to my Father and ask – how can I plan without having clients to bring in money now to save for a mission in the future?
I moved to a new place and felt alone. I wasn’t Randy anymore, but Terry’s husband. The people I met at church and Terry’s friends were really nice, but church wise I felt out of my league. These people were mission presidents, temple presidents, authors of church books, general Relief Society and Young Men leaders, family members of apostles and prophets, and even general authorities themselves. What could I, a convert from the mission field, ever offer to these people? It wasn’t them; it was me. But it was how I felt. I could learn from them and wanted to do so, but I could not really contribute.
I get down on myself; depressed. My thoughts race. Maybe I’m not really that good at what I do. Why doesn’t anyone want to use me? I talked with someone in Boston; it looked promising, but they say they have no money to pay me and only wanted to visit with me to get my ideas. Another blow. Just like the others. I shut down more.
The University down the hill needs an adjunct PR professor. I’ve taught that very class at the University of Texas. Six semesters. I can share my knowledge and experiences with students. Within 24 hours a rejection email. Even my church’s school doesn’t want me. More depression, and more self-esteem lost.
The only thing keeping me going is my wife and daughters, and my calling at the temple. I never want to leave there – it’s where I don’t have to worry about things of the world.
Terry and I reach the base of another hill. “Want to keep going up” she asks. “With you, yes” I say. We take another step forward and start climbing up another hill, together. Just like my life.
