Lessons from Don Mau

On the final day of the calendar year for teachers and staff, I received a phone call just before 7 a.m. from our Chief Financial Officer.  A member of the team had come across the body of our long-time head security guard, Mauricio, or “Don Mau” as many of us referred to him, lying in the grass not far from the entrance to the school.  He had died of a heart attack on his morning walk to work.  

While the passing of any staff member might constitute a moment of crisis, Mauricio was not just any staff member.  He was undoubtedly the most respected and beloved member of the Lincoln team.  Just the previous weekend I had sat in the Senior Recognition Breakfast, where the senior class brought Mauricio to the stage to express their appreciation for his service to the school and to present him with a series of special gifts.  This scene replayed itself the following weekend when we hosted our annual Sports Banquet, and again Mauricio was called forward in acknowledgment of his contributions to the school.  How is it that a security gaurd comes to embed himself so completely and essentially in the fabric of a school community?  While I only had the opportunity to work with Don Mau during this past year – and an interrupted year at that – I quickly came to recognize just why he was such an important person to the school.  

Hay que ponerse la camiseta

Mauricio worked hard, showing up before anyone else arrived, and leaving late into the evening when the parking lots were empty.  I remember one particular Saturday morning when I had come in for a few hours for a school activity, Mauricio caught me as I was leaving.  His message was brief – “gracias por ponerse la camiseta.”  In English, that translates roughly to “thank you for putting on the jersey,” and is a soccer reference to  our willingness to go to work and sacrifice on behalf of the team.  It mattered to Mauricio that I, as the General Director, had chosen to be there that day.  He didn’t care about degrees or resumes, he was just interested that you were bringing your whole and best self to the work of the school.  Mauricio was always willing to roll up his sleeves and do whatever needed to be done, and that was his same measuring stick for determining the committment level of those around him.  

Relationships always come first

In Costa Rica, the wake, funeral services, and burial all happen within about 24 hours of death.  With COVID restrictions in place, the small Catholic church across the street from the school simply wasn’t going to be able accommodate the number of people who wanted to come pay their respects to Don Mau.  So we held an impromptu service across the street, outside in front of the school.  I’ve had a lot of unexpected experiences as a teacher and school leader on campus, but hosting a viewing was not one I had ever anticipated.  As students, staff, family, and friends thronged the parking lot, I couldn’t help smiling to myself as person after person turned to a neighbor to tell about their special relationship with Mauricio.  That was Mau’s secret power – he made everyone feel like they were important.  He had conversations with EVERYONE.  He had an insatiable curiosity for finding out about people’s lives – what was important to them, what challenges they were facing, how he could help.  He never hesitated for a moment to walk up to someone and start a conversation.  Being inclusive was in Mauricio’s DNA.  

Quiet, Direct Advice

Over time, Mauricio become somewhat of our Lincoln armchair therapist.  Of course he never postured himself that way.  Rather, he was such a good listener, that you couldn’t help but confide in him.  The combination of his good nature and universal positive regard for others made it easy to keep talking.  Plus, he kept confidences.  You never had to worry that he was going to go around making problems because you shared some delicate piece of news or because you vented about a coworker during a moment of weakness.  He politely listened, asked a few simple questions to make sure he understood, and then usually, would finish wtih some simple advice.  His counsels were never terribly complicated.  Mauricio primarily dispensed common sense, and perhaps hearing what you needed to hear in simple, clear terms is what made his advice so valuable.  It was as if he stood outside of any common organizational drama or interpersonal politics and just gave it to you straight.  

Living Your Values

As we prepared to move in procession from the front of the school across the street to our small neighborhood church, I was handed a microphone and invited to share a few words.  What came to mind then is still what strikes me now.  Mauricio was a man who seemed to have total alignment between his values and how he went about his day to day work.  He was always busily engaged in the work of the school, but never too busy for any individual person who needed his attention.  He was always concerned for the well being of the organization and the people who were a part of it.  

Just this past week, I read an article in a business journal that encouraged readers to stop referring to the workplace as home or coworkers as family as it has the tendency to blur the needed boundary between personal and professional life.  Perhaps for many of us that is good advice.  But for Mauricio, Lincoln really was family.  As students and staff walked past his coffin to pay their last respects, eyes filled with tears, saying Lincoln was family was no exaggeration.  When 6 recently graduated seniors, dressed in white, carried the coffin from the school doors to the church next door, Mauricio was certainly amongst his adopted family.  

By any measure, this school year was challenging.  Yet even in the midst of the COVID madness, none of us could have imagined we’d lose Mauricio on the very last day of the work year.  Honestly, I momentarily lost my breath when first hearing that he had died.  Not long after, I found myself standing next to Mauricio’s wife in the street, trying to find words of consolation while behind me Mauricio’s body lay in the grass as it was prepared to be taken to the funeral home.  That is a moment and memory that I will forever associate with this pandemic year.  And if this year has taught me anything, it is about how precious and fleeting life can be, to enjoy the people we love while we have them, and to strive to live our values every day.