“Put on your own oxygen mask before assisting others.” It’s such a counter-intuitive statement, especially when I look over to my daughter seated next to me on the plane. As if I could bear to see her gasp even one time as I put my interests ahead of hers! And yet I know that if I reached first to her mask, in my fear and panic, my own breathing would increase as I scrambled to help her and keep her calm. And, of course, if I fall unconscious, I cannot help her at all. If y

A new semester began this week at Johnson University, where I resumed my role as the professor for a Marketing and PR class. I went into the class fully prepared, syllabus in hand, ready to bestow great knowledge and insight. But it was I who left changed last night by a simple truth spoken by a guest speaker, Stanley Taylor, a beloved friend of mine from Knoxville Leadership Foundation. It is a truth that I know, a truth that I hold dear, a truth that I have taught. But when

I recently had an opportunity to submit some content to the author of a book on advice given by mothers. I’m sure there are far more that touch me daily, but there are two specific instances where my mother’s voice routinely transcends through time and space. To this day, I still apply these words regularly. The first was from grade school, when I was one girl in a group of three close girl friends. My mother continually cautioned me about groups of three: “In a group of thr

I had lunch earlier this week with a gentleman who runs a reputable production company in Knoxville. We happened upon the subject of...