52 Cups of Coffee: Inspiring and insightful stories for navigating life’s uncertainties (7 page)

Chad Badgero

Gone Wired Café in East Lansing, Michigan

Small latte

Never let good stop you from great.

A slushie changed
Chad Badgero’s life. Seriously.

Chad
’s first job was teaching high school in a small Michigan town. He taught English but loved theatre, so after school, he assisted with the school’s drama club. He enjoyed working with the kids, but the director was another story. He was a longtime faculty member who never seemed happy and often yelled at students. Chad could never understand why.

Then the slushie incident
happened.

During a heated moment at rehearsal, the drama teacher threw a slushie in the face of a student (yes, just like in
Glee). Chad couldn’t believe it. And later that night it clicked:

That Drama teacher wanted to be up on that stage pe
rforming, not sitting in the audience directing. The loss of a dream had turned him into a bitter old man.

Chad came to a cold realization:
Someday that could be me.
He had fallen in love with the theatre when he was in fifth grade and had been involved in the drama club throughout high school. He knew a degree in that field wasn’t practical and so he chose an education degree instead. He had always been interested in education and knew it was a good fit. But he never stayed away from the theatre for long.

In fact, the summer after his senior year of high school, Chad hadn
’t had much going on, so he decided to direct his first show. He gathered his friends, picked a show, found a venue, built sets, made costumes, and rehearsed tirelessly. They called themselves the Peppermint Creek Players.

Chad quickly found out there was more to directing than he had originally thought, but nonetheless, on opening night there were people in the audience. The play was a success! When summer came to an end, he left for college with the assumption that the show had been a one-time
occurrence.

As his freshman year was coming to an end, his friends asked about another summer production, so once again—much to his surprise—he found himself in the director
’s chair. The summer shows continued throughout Chad’s college years, but he considered it a hobby. He had decided to focus on teaching. And he thought he was content with teaching English and helping with the Drama club after school. Yet, after the slushie incident, he couldn’t shake the thought from his mind:
Someday that could be me.

He knew he was happy at his job, but would he still be happy in 20 years? Was he about to settle for a stable job that would turn him into a bitter old man, always regretting not trying his hand at a
career in the theatre arts?

A few weeks later, Chad told his boss he was resigning at the end of the
year. It was one of the hardest decisions he had ever made.

The reaction from the boss surprised him—but not in the way he expected. He was supportive of Chad’s choice and left
him with words Chad will never forget: “Never let something good prevent you from something great.”

And with that, Chad packed everything he had into a U-Haul and moved to New York City to try his hand at acting. The move wasn
’t easy, but things started to fall into place. Within two weeks, he found an acting job, one that eventually led him to an Off-Broadway gig. He had taken a leap of faith to follow his dream—and he had succeeded. He should have been singing from the rooftops!

He was at first, but his excitement slowly waned. He loved acting, but he realized to survive in New York, he had to take roles
that weren’t particularly interesting to him. He missed the power he had had during those summers, when
he
chose the projects that meant something to him. He also missed the Midwest, so he left the glow of his newfound success to move back home and start something new.

He
knew it was time to turn The Peppermint Creek
Players
from his college days into the Peppermint Creek
Theatre
Company
.

That was in 2002. Eight years later, the company has made a name for itself in Lansing, Michigan, producing three shows annually. What’s more, Chad also started the Renegade Theatre Festival, which is a free festival that brings together various college and local theatre groups for a weekend hosting 23 different productions in three days.

I asked Chad if he
ever thought about what his life would have been like if the slushie incident hadn’t happened. He said he thought about it all the time. Without that wake-up call, he would not have faced the decision to sacrifice a good situation to take a risk on something great.

* * *

Cup 12 with Chad illustrates that important change often requires a wake-up call. We cling to good because it is safe—in a stable situation, we know exactly what to expect. Conversely, the potentially great things ahead of us are intangible, uncertain, and scary.

It
is difficult to trust that something better may be out there waiting for us, so we settle for something less. We are afraid to trade stability and contentedness for the hard work and unpredictability that comes with striving for something bigger because, if we fail, we can lose the good, as well as the great.

But Chad prove
d how the rewards can far outweigh the risks. He trusts his gut and repeatedly takes a stable situation and turns it on its head. As a result, he’s created a life that he looks forward to each morning. A life he finds fulfilling.

I know at some point in my life, I will have that proverbial slushie thrown in my face, exposing something missing in my life. When that happens, I hope Chad
’s story will give me the courage to take a risk and shake things up: to sacrifice good for a chance at great.

Dave Isbell

Biggby Coffee in East Lansing, Michigan

Small latte

You can choose humility or be humbled.

In cup 13, I learned about
sacrifice. I wasn’t planning on it, and I didn’t want to, but I did.

This
happens a lot with sacrifice. It’s not planned. It’s not wanted. But it happens, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Or so I thought before I spent an hour drinking coffee with
Dave Isbell, who gave me the harrowing news that sacrifice would be an unavoidable part of my life—not exactly news I wanted to hear.

Luckily, his next piece of advice was more optimistic
. He told me that while I can’t avoid sacrifice, I can be proactive and take control of the sacrifices I make.

He went on to say that sacrifice isn
’t necessarily a bad thing. The act of consciously choosing sacrifice adds incredible meaning and value to life. I wasn’t sure I believed him, but I thought back to one of my clearest experiences with sacrifice, and it made sense.

In m
y freshman year of high school, I joined the varsity cross-country team; suddenly my life was consumed with running. I woke up at 5:30 am, ran, went to class, ran again, ate dinner, finished my homework, went to sleep, and woke up the next day to do it all again. Every choice I made went through a running filter. If it helped my running, I did it. If it hurt my running, I said no.

It paid off. Our team had a lot of success, and I acco
mplished many of my running goals, but not without a price: I had to pass up on a lot of high school fun in the process.

A
s I look back, I wouldn’t change anything about high school. Running never felt like a burden stopping me from what I wanted to do. Running gave me a sense of purpose, and that made the trade-offs worthwhile. I was willing to sacrifice the short-term excitement so I could reach my goals.

Dave
had a similar story. From the age of 13, he knew that his destiny was to be a rock star, so he worked tirelessly and willingly made sacrifices to get closer to his goal. By the time he was 21, his band was asked to go on tour—the hard work had seemingly paid off.

But then he faced another sacrifice. He declined the tour offer and ended the band. The rock-star life conflicted with his responsibilities as the husband of a young family, and he knew he wasn
’t mature enough to handle both. So he left the stage and the dream because he knew it was the right thing to do; his family had become his priority.

* * *

Dave’s story is a valuable reminder. I understood what it meant to make sacrifices, but somewhere along my college journey, I had forgotten. It was easy to do. I was in college and had the freedom to do what I wanted! I was having the time of my life! I didn’t want to think about sacrifice.

Dave
sees this often happen: college students feeling invincible and free until graduation day arrives, and then reality sets in. Young graduates go into the world, full of pride and confidence, only to be humbled when the burdens of life catch up to them.

* * *

After leaving the band, Dave did some serious soul-searching that eventually led him to his role as Alumni Career Services Coordinator for Michigan State. The job involves meeting with alumni—usually in their late 40s and 50s—unhappy with their career situations and looking for a change.

Many
are the alumni who had spent their lives going through the motions; they went to class, joined a few clubs, and then accepted the best job offer without assessing the direction their life was headed. Why should they have? They had a degree and a job—they were set!

But then
a few decades go by and when they already have a mortgage, car payment, and three kids to put through college they realize they aren’t happy in their careers. But their financial responsibilities prevent them from leaving their jobs. Staying at the same job becomes a forced sacrifice, a burden, rather than an intentional sacrifice that creates meaning.

Dave
works hard to change that. His goal is to help alumni find jobs that are aligned with their interests and values so that their sacrifices became meaningful instead of burdensome.

He
shared his experiences with me to encourage me to discover what I was willing to sacrifice now—when I’m young and have fewer responsibilities—instead of 20 years down the road, sitting in his office looking for advice.

Without
Dave’s prompting, I likely would have ignored the concepts of sacrifice and humility until it was too late. I would have left MSU with my fancy degree and full-time job, expecting the world to give me everything it owed me after my four years of “hard work” in college.

But the world
doesn’t owe me anything, and if I think otherwise, I may end up falling flat on my face.

As Dave said
many times during our conversation, “You can either choose humility or be humbled.”

Dave’s advice
gave my previous Cups a new perspective. He told me, “everybody must make sacrifices; you might as well choose the ones you’re willing to make. They should be worth the price you pay.”

His advice made me ask myself: w
hat sacrifices am I willing to make?