Prior to losing my Campus Architect / Facilities Director position at Delta State University in 2013, I was surrounded by men day in and day out via the demands of / setup within my vocational role. I did my darndest to treat everyone fairly, but since I was only there one year prior to my termination (thanks to me violating their IT policy), I really only had time to grow close to a handful of these blue-collar blokes. Overall, though, I felt this experience was literally the zenith of my career as an architect. And I felt this at day one. It truly had all the makings of a dream job.
My leadership approach was as follows: open-door, listen and try to help without in any way pretending to know better than they did (because I usually didn't). My predecessor had taken the exact opposite approach, therefore the change in leadership style, for my minions, was like a breath of fresh air.
Therein, what dragged / wore on me constantly was how one-sided this setup was. Especially as it pertained to both me and my family being transplanted into this very new, very isolating small-town MS setting. For my minions had been starving for respect, therefore my appointment was soon met with all that pent up demand.
Ultimately, no one there knew Rob - warts & all. Nor did I have any friends (outside of work) that served me within the same open door, subservient capacity (as I was day-in-and-day-out serving my men). As a result, as each work week passed, I felt more and more like an outsider through and through.
Nonetheless, Rob's respectful modus operandi was appropriate and helpful to all of these men, and this provided me with peace of mind. For it represented me not being - in the least - overstepping of the supervisor / minion relationship. For I'd experienced that myself when I too was a minion (within other vocational settings), and it was neither fair nor in anyway helpful therein as it pertained to me doing my minion job to the best of my ability.
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My introduction to Samson Society in August 2014 (11-months post job termination) felt like the "mirror universe" version of my aforementioned Campus Architect / Facilities Director role at DSU. And this was absolutely apparent, within that first in-person Samson group, due to the fact that I simply wouldn't / couldn't be called upon to "hold the professional line" (put up or shut up). Therefore, no matter what I happened to say, either within or outside of a meeting (after meeting / retreats) I was allowed to test this assumption repeatedly, yet never once did anyone pull me aside and say, "you might want to tone down the authenticity rhetoric a little."
For such a time as that, I was desperately in need of this weekly orgy of truth-telling / being heard and listened to, for I had so much anger, shame and desperation, with no idea what to do with it. Plus, I simply wasn't interested in really hearing or knowing otherwise about anyone else's situation (though I certainly pretended to). My own pain was simply too big to look away from - 24/7/365. So much so, back then, that it came close to pulling me under completely (thanks to PTSD).
Eventually though, it became more manageable as the pressure eased within my mind.
As such, I did begin to heal. And from there, I truly began serving / giving back to this community in droves. I'm here to testify to the fact that Samson Society absolutely worked its magic. From there, I hit recovery cruise control via service to those who'd have me. And oh, how much fun that's been.
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Consider this memory of note:
My breakout attempt to extend an intimate hand of friendship within Samson Society took place right before Christmas 2014. A younger man who'd been faithful (at that point, longer than I had) to the First Baptist Church Jackson Samson Society piqued my platonic interest in light of his exuberant, outgoing persona (super fun guy). I'd been fortunate enough to hear bits and pieces of this Samson brother's story throughout the five months I'd been attending said meeting and had even attended a few Bible studies over at his apartment
What I didn't realize was how my attempts to extend a personal hand of friendship would be reacted to via the other men or at least one, in particular, who'd long since crossed that particular relational bridge (w/ fun guy).
This was when I quickly realized that my involvement within Samson Society was in no way happening inside a vacuum, and that I was just as blokey as all my peers. And running headlong into this now wedge hurt, but it also didn't deliver reciprocally anything other than a strong reminder of how absolutely okay it was for me to stand up for my own wants and desires within this sacred space of brotherhood.
Or this one:
I poured mucho time and energy into a guy who'd, like me, come to a Samson story retreat. This was my second of these, and mostly, I was there out of respect for the facilitator (who was my first "Silas" - pre-Samson Society). This (fellow retreat attendee) AL native and I agreed to continue dialoguing into the future, and he was extremely faithful to that agreement.
Eventually, the stars aligned, and from there, we were set to both attend a Samson Society National Retreat. I'd been to many of these prior, but this was his first. I vividly recall comparing (to him) my previous Samson National Retreats as vampiric feeding grounds. In essence, fantastic opportunities to make new connections and therefore "drink in" stories 'till one's heart's content.
Disappointedly, he failed to engage. In fact, he spent the majority of his time - throughout the weekend - text messaging his wife back in GA. For she was his codependent female "Silas", for lack of a better word. As a result, not one Samson guy benefited from befriending this dude (besides brushing shoulders with him during the lunch line). And that was because he made zero effort to invest as he'd invested in me (& vice versa) throughout the lead up to this endeavor.
We continued our ongoing bi-monthly chats, but it took a long while for me to settle back into our routine emotionally unscathed.
Nonetheless, I'd realized from the get-go, whilst walking into that second Samson story retreat, that it wasn't going to offer me a whole lot (repetitive) unless I made the most of this syndication. And that's what motivated me to pursue new connections. For this, I had no regrets.
Or this one:
Young guy shows up to my Samson meeting at Lakeside Pres church one Saturday morning. Since he's a newbie, I immediately follow-up with him out of respect for showing up.
The deep-seated respect that returns to me is noble but also uneasy-ly blind.
He continues attending (like clockwork). Eventually, I tell him to let me come alongside and intentionally assist in his recovery (over the course of the upcoming calendar year). Months pass. From there, we agree to meet once a week.
I become his very intentional big brother cheerleader, attending his side hustle events, gifting him at birthdays / promotions at work, and ever steadily continuing to meet regularly. Our friendship is richly rewarding.
I even loop him into a movie night ("1917") with my father at the newly opened suburban MoviePlex. Fun times.
Then very unexpectedly the relationship exploded violently. And of all places for this to occur, ironically, it was during an in-person Samson meeting.
Within just a few minutes, our friendship / brotherhood ceased to exist in spite of it being bookended on either side by this very ministry.
A few weeks later, I followed through with (yet again) attending the National Samson Society retreat. This was never an option for my previous Samson brother. For anytime I brought up the notion of him accompanying me was met with swift refusal / rebuttal.
It was during that retreat that I asked Mr. Justin Schwind about attending the virtual Samson Society meeting he facilitated (I'd never prior given serious thought to attending a virtual Samson Society meeting).
And that formally segued me from in-person to virtual literally overnight.
And finally, this one:
A newcomer to this "Make Thursdays Great Again" virtual Samson meeting caught my attention. I DM'ed him via Slack and before long we were off and running. He'd attended intensive weekends within other men's parachurch ministries, therefore Samson was serving him beautifully as an everyday reminder / placeholder of that / those sacred event(s).
We talked A LOT for weeks on end. The alignment pertaining to our intellect, personas, faith were undeniable. Plus, he was just so hungry for attention. As such, the attraction was building between us.
By this point (this was February of '23), I had amassed quite the impressive resume of Samson stories. So much so that I truly thought I'd heard it all.
But with this guy, that was most definitely not the case.
My reaction therein was blunt.
Needless to say, he was deeply offended.
And that was the end of that.
But, in the end, it was this offense that motivated me to reposition myself in (virtual Samson meeting) "Brain Changers" on Sunday afternoons / evenings. And eventually, from co-facilitator, I became sole facilitator ("Transparent Training Union").
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Last weekend, my wife and I bumped into a guy I often see at the Y. At the time, she and I were at the local grocery. This man's younger than me, but due to his build, looks a good bit older than his biological age. I'd been praying for an opportunity to give him my business card in hopes of us having lunch someday. And lo and behold, here was my opportunity.
Why pray this prayer?
Because he's right there in front of me, and he's got a story I want to hear. That's why.
Plus, he knows my name.
Seriously, I can't not take the chance to see where an extended hand might very well lead. I love men. God loves me. It's full circle.
