When I returned to campus for my final semester, (I was on the four and a half year plan) I had not anticipated how different life would be when I was no longer in a position of leadership. Furthermore, I had decided to wait to take my last semester of Greek during my final semester of school. I knew the decision to take a year off of that class was risky, but I was afraid of failing and did not want to do so while I was Student Body President.
A few weeks into the fall semester, I called home and told my parents that I felt as if everything was unraveling. I said that I did not feel like I had anything left in the tank. After hearing me out, dad said, “Stick with it for a couple more weeks and let’s see how you are doing. If things don’t get better and you need to come home, we will make it happen.”
GRADUATE SCHOOL
He has never admitted it, but I assume my dad called Dr. Burks to let him know that I was struggling. That week, I received a call from the university president’s office. Claudette Bratcher, Executive Assistant to the President, was calling to see if she could arrange a lunch for Dr. Burks and me. The invite was an instant morale boost as I had missed our conversations. When I got to the office, I was directed to the conference room, which was likely the most formal meeting space on campus. When I entered the room, it was clear that our lunch was meant to be something special. One end of the long table had been draped in black tablecloths, and the table had been set for two.
We took our seats, and he said he wanted to talk about my future. Due to the relationship we had built the previous year, I felt comfortable being transparent with him. I told him that I wanted to develop people and organizations. As I sorted through my thoughts, he listened patiently and thoughtfully. After a few clarifying questions, he said, “I think you are going to need a master’s degree to do some of those things.” He said, “I want to help you do that.” He then listed a handful of schools he would recommend, one of which was Harding. He said that if I would choose from the list, he had relationships with their leadership and thought they would be willing to grant me a scholarship through a graduate assistant role.
Although the conversation occurred in 1995, when I think about the moment, it still makes me emotional today. I said, “Thank you. I want to go to Harding and learn from you.” I felt he had awakened a sleeping giant within me and opened a door to a future that had been shut. I finished my undergraduate degree a few months later and walked across the stage on December 16, 1995.
I KNOW WHO YOU ARE
There are hundreds of experiences that I could point to as being significant in helping shape my perspective while at Harding. If I were asked to choose from among the top 10, one of those was the day I met Dr. Dee Carson. I had just started the graduate program, and Dr. Carson taught one of my first courses, “The Art & Science of Teaching.” She was an experienced teacher and administrator who was passionate about her field and had high expectations of her students.
It was the first day of class, and while I was looking for a place to sit when Dr. Carson recognized me and said, “Nathan Mellor.” I had spoken at several events where faculty were present, and I could only assume she knew me from one of these programs I walked toward the front of the classroom to see what she wanted. She was standing behind a table, and I sensed she had something she wanted to share. She pointed her index finger at me and said, “Nathan Mellor. I know who you are.” I was trying to read her eyes to get a sense of where she was going with the conversation, but I was not having much luck.
As my classmates continued to file into the classroom, she said, “I think you are gifted…but do not know it.” She paused to let me take in what she had just said. She continued, “I expect you to make an A in this class.” I responded, “Yes, ma’am.” She motioned toward a desk near the front of the classroom and said, “Sit there.”
I sat down and Dr. Carson began the class. I leaned over to a classmate and asked, “Do you have a pen?” They nodded and handed me one. I asked another if they had any paper. From that moment onward, I took notes on everything Dr. Carson said. I was determined to prove her right.
Although there have been many people who have helped shape my life, my intersection with Dr. Carson was a watershed moment. Her conversation with me was one of the reasons why I believe that someone’s entire life can be changed in a single conversation at just the right time in their life. I could not recall ever having someone tell me that I was gifted academically.
The decision to chart a new course may be made in an instant, but our brains tend to be resistant to change, even when a new mental model may be helpful. My journey to becoming a better student required adopting new habits. I had to learn to take better notes, to give myself more time to study, and to try different approaches to learning. The path forward was not easy, but when I walked across the stage to receive my graduate degree in 1997, I felt a great sense of relief and gratitude.
THE NEXT STAGE
Christie Bishop and I became friends while on a Student Association flood relief trip to Albany, Georgia. She was one of 130 students who had traveled there from Harding to assist in the cleanup following historic floods in the summer of 1994. One constant throughout high school and college was that I was not good at dating. As much as I wish I could claim the reason was because of the people I dated, the reality was that I was the only common denominator in a series of well-intentioned relationships that did not end well.
When I met Christie, there was no pressure to date. Instead, we became friends. I enjoyed talking with her and found that she and I had many shared interests. In some ways, it was a surprise to both of us when we recognized that our friendship had grown into something more profound. On May 17, 1997, Christie and I were married in a small ceremony in the Burks’ backyard.
Although Harding had been a good place for us, I felt called to ministry. I began looking for opportunities, and in the summer of 1999 was hired to work with a church in scenic Chattanooga, Tennessee. It was here that our daughters Annalise and Arden were born and we made friendships with families that will last a lifetime.
The church had been through some tough times in the 2 to 3 years prior to my arrival, and they were looking to get back on track. They had a strong core of dedicated people and a ministry staff that cared deeply. As the team formed and found its stride, the church began to grow. Over the next four years, the attendance nearly doubled. During that time, I placed more pressure on myself to prepare new and relevant material for 5 to 7 presentations each week. This was in addition to other ministerial duties like visiting the sick, meeting with members, performing weddings and funerals and being active in the community. The church met in a relatively new building, but we were quickly running out of space. After contemplating their options, the congregation purchased a little over 100 acres of land for a new campus and a few years later, built a new facility.
While working full-time with the church, I was also teaching online college courses for a school based in Michigan. I had begun teaching occasional 6-week courses following the completion of my master’s degree in 1997. As the demand for online degree programs grew, I was invited to teach additional courses. When we moved to Chattanooga, to help make ends meet, especially after our children were born, I was teaching every class offered. When I was at my busiest, I was teaching 20 to 24 classes per year, which would have been considered a heavy load for a full-time professor.
Following a familiar pattern, when the workload increased, I increased my pace accordingly and was consistently working 12 to 15 hour days. Adding fuel to the fire, I thought I was doing the right thing in 2003, when I talked my wife into building a new home. We hired a friend to assist as the General Contractor, but whenever possible, to keep our costs down, we would do any of the work that we thought we could do ourselves. Sensing I was running too fast, people would occasionally tell me that I needed to slow down or I was going to burn out. I agreed, but I also believed it would be wrong to slow dow
n. I considered the stress that I placed on myself, on my marriage, and on my family to be part of the sacrifice required.
Instead of questioning why I was running so fast, I was locked in a single loop approach when a double loop was what was needed. My focus was solely on running faster. Due to a constant feeling of restlessness and a growing sense of tension at home I shared my concerns with a few close friends. They suggested that I talk to a professional counselor. I followed their advice and made an appointment. The counselor listened as I described my situation and then gave me an informal screening for Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD). I answered her questions and was told that I was a strong candidate for ADD. Until that moment, I had questioned whether ADD was even a real thing. Based on the results, she recommended a local psychiatrist.
I made the appointment with the doctor. In addition to talking with me about my life, he administered two tests—the first to determine if I had ADD and the second an IQ test. When I shared the challenges I felt I was facing, specifically about the challenges Christie and I were having, he listened and then said “relationships could be challenging.” Instead of offering hope, he asked if I had considered divorce. I told him that I had not and he proceeded to try to convince me to consider it. While it was true that my wife and I had challenges to address, the majority of the issues we were facing were mine and had nothing to do with her. With the benefit of retrospect, if I had followed his advice, I am confident it would have been the single worst decision I would have made in my life.
Based on the interview and tests, he confirmed I had ADD. I filled the prescription given to me, but the initial dosage was wrong. When I began taking the pills, I was unable to sleep; I lost 20 pounds in a matter of weeks, had occasional hallucinations, and felt like a different person. My judgment was off and I felt increasingly impulsive.
If I had been running too fast before, on the wrong medication, I was running even faster. Eventually, when I recognized I was unable to slow down the speeding train on my own, I blew up the tracks instead. I decided that the best plan forward was to just walk away from my commitments. I wanted out of my marriage and my job and I began down a path that was inconsistent with the values I had held my entire life. When the dust settled, I found myself alone in the midst of a self-made disaster zone. My actions during that time had negatively impacted my life and the lives of my friends and family. I am not sure if it was due to exhaustion, the medication, guilt, pride, or a blend of all of the above, but even now when I try to recall that time, my brain recoils. In an effort to make things better by seeking help, I felt I had made things much worse.
When I came to my senses, I knew that I had violated the trust of those closest to me. Although the church was gracious, supportive, and forgiving, I was broken by the experience and did not feel I could continue in my role. Christie and I wanted to rebuild our lives and marriage. We concluded the best way to do so was a change of context.
Eventually, we found the prescription and dosage that worked. The difference was like night and day. I felt like myself again. When taking the correct amount, I could not even tell that I was taking medication, and there were no noticeable side effects. I still take the medication today and I am incredibly grateful to live in a time and place where access to this type of medication is possible. It is estimated that about 70% of adults with ADD, and 70-80% of children with the disorder, find medication to be helpful.12 To help ensure my care is managed well, I meet with my family doctor on a regular basis to safeguard against any immediate or long-term side effects.
Hitting the wall is a common problem for those with ADD. In 2012, Rachel Klein, Ph.D., published the results of a study that compared the lives of 135 Caucasian males who had been diagnosed with ADHD, free of conduct disorder, at the age of 8 with a group of 136 males without ADHD in childhood, 33 years after their initial diagnosis. The objective of the study was to gain insight into how the lives of those diagnosed with ADHD compared to their counterparts by examining their employment, financial, and educational attainments along with marital history and other key factors.
The results were sobering. As a group, those who had been diagnosed with ADHD had 2 and a half fewer years of formal education, and only 3.7% of the men had earned higher degrees, which was significantly less than the 30% in the control group. They were more likely to have antisocial personality disorders, substance abuse, and dependence, and divorce. In addition, 36.3% of those diagnosed with ADHD had been incarcerated versus 11.8% of the sample group. Concerning marriage, 9.6% of the ADHD group were currently divorced versus 2.9% from the comparison group. The ADHD group divorce rate was 31.1% versus 11.8% among those without the disorder.13
GOING BACK TO SCHOOL
When I was diagnosed with ADD, the psychiatrist had me take an Intelligence Quotient (IQ) test. I had taken an IQ test once before in a college class and was told I could come by the next day to get my score, but I never went back. I concluded that getting confirmation that I was not smart was not going to help anything.
During this I.Q. test, the doctor went through a series of questions and exercises to gauge my memory and knowledge. He tallied the score and then said, “If 100 is average, what do you think you scored?” I thought about it for a moment and answered honestly, “105.” He asked why I chose that number, and I told him that I had always gotten average grades. He responded, “That is not uncommon with people who have ADD.” He said, “You just scored a 145.”
After being diagnosed, I began working on my life from a new perspective. Through the process, I also was able to work through how to align my actions and beliefs better. Just as glasses had helped me see better, taking medication for ADD was helping me think more clearly. Although I was thankful for the greater clarity, I also wondered what life would have been like if I had been able to address the disorder earlier. With the ability to maintain focus on one subject, would I have been able to pass English and pre-algebra?
Christie and I began to consider our options, and I felt going back to school would help me transition to a new career. A program that had captured my imagination was the Straus Institute for Dispute Resolution at the Pepperdine University School of Law. Located in Malibu, the program is one of just a few of its kind in the nation, and U.S. News and World Report perennially ranks it as the #1 program of its kind in the world.
I connected with the director of the Straus Institute, and after a series of conversations, he encouraged me to apply to the Master of Dispute Resolution program. I filled out the application, which included references and my transcript from Harding, and sent the materials directly to him. Based upon my conversations, I was hopeful, but not confident that I would be accepted.
Due to the popularity of the program, the application process was highly selective, and I knew being chosen was a long shot. I was told that half of the applicants (many of whom were already practicing lawyers and judges) were not accepted. When I did not hear anything after a few weeks, I connected with them again and was told there must have been a mistake because they did not have some of the information they needed. I filled out the application again and sent it once more.
When I did not hear anything for a few more weeks, I contacted the school. The semester would begin soon, and I needed to know one way or the other. To make the program work, I would be moving my family from eastern Tennessee to southern California, and there were several things I would need to finalize to make it happen. A few more days passed before I received official notification that I had been accepted.
I was speechless. I had just been accepted into the top program in the world. My emotions were all over the place, but more than anything, I felt grateful. I was intimidated by the idea, but my wife and I were looking forward to a new start. I hoped with my new approach to life, I would have a chance.
THE FUTURE
Our house was sold, and we began boxing up everything we owned. Friends helped us pack, and my dad and I dr
ove two U-Hauls with two cars in tow to a new life in California. After getting things into our rental house in Westlake Village, I went to the campus the next day to sign a few documents pertaining to my student loans.
When I got to campus, the person working with me on my student loans greeted me, but seemed off. I sat down, and he said, “I am so sorry, but I have some bad news. I made a mistake in processing your student loan. I do not know what to say, but I am very sorry and it is my fault.” He walked me through the specifics, and the result was that the amount available was about half of what we expected. I told him I understood, gathered my things, and then drove down the Pacific Coast Highway for a few miles to find a place to pull over and collect my thoughts.
Although Pepperdine is expensive, tuition is only part of the challenge. For me, the real issue was the cost of living. Through the traditional student loans, I could get the money needed to pay for my classes, but the amount available for living expenses was being reduced drastically. The plan had been to begin the Master of Dispute Resolution (MDR) degree at the School of Law, and then if I were accepted into the program, I would start on my Doctorate in Organizational Leadership the next year.
As I sat on the beach watching the waves crash against the shore at Paradise Cove, I had an epiphany. I thought, I could save an entire year’s worth of living expenses if I did both programs concurrently. Considering the minimum GPA for either program was higher than what I had been able to maintain for most of my academic career, and I would have to work two jobs at the same time, it was a risky move. Equipped with a new mental model and a highly supportive family, I felt that I had the ability to do the work.
As soon as possible, I met with the director of the Organizational Leadership program and explained the situation. Due to a reciprocal relationship with the School of Law, they said I could be accepted into the doctoral program, but I would need to provide a writing sample. That afternoon, I completed the writing sample and, after a quick review, was told that classes would begin the next week.
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