Dr. Elizabeth Graham, Mentor and Friend

For those reading who are not in academia, for a person with a Master's degree only to get a full-time appointment of any length at a University is pretty rare. Why? There are more PhDs than positions and many will accept visiting or temporary appointments as a way to enter the field. I know that Beth had to fight pretty hard to get the university to extend that offer to me. Now, 15 years of teaching at UA later, I am so grateful that she did.

When I read in her beautiful obituary, written by her family, that she had a way of identifying talent and gently nurturing it, I felt a big lump in my throat. Not only has that been my first-hand experience of Beth, her commitment to mentoring others has had a radical impact on my life. I don't imagine I would have ended up with the same life's work had it not been for her.

My first semester, I taught Interpersonal Communication, Beth's specialty. She gave me access to all of her materials - assignments, notes, lecture slides, syllabi and more, to help me get started. A few years ago, a Fall 2011 graduate, who was in my very first Interpersonal section, attended a reunion we held at the school, and said that my interpersonal course had changed her life.

I was surprised, first, because she had been a relatively quiet student in the class and second, because I had felt deeply immersed in my imposter syndrome that first semester. Now I need to send her a message and let her know that it was really Beth behind it all. In that case, quite literally, since I was heavily leaning on Beth's materials, but actually every student whose lives I have touched also belong to Beth.

Without her, I would not have had the opportunity to work with 15 years of aspiring professionals as a Professor of Practice. I still use things I learned from her course prep for Interpersonal in my teaching today. Of course, her mentorship and leadership extended into other parts of my life as well.

In 2013, I was offered a permanent position at UA under Beth, who was the school director at the time. I also learned I was pregnant with my first of four children, and Beth was incredibly supportive. She helped me finagle things so that after I gave birth in December, I wouldn't have to return until the following fall semester. Having been through three more maternity experiences, I know that's a challenging thing to accomplish.

So, I also owe my ability to focus on my daughter's first nine months and all the precious memories we made during that time to Beth. She could have required me to be in-office in March, but instead made things flexible and relaxed so I could continue to be at home. It was also during that time that she stepped away from the director's chair.

After her tenure as director,  Beth and I became closer as colleagues.  We worked together on the Converged Media Immersion Program, a definite departure from Beth's area of expertise. She saw an opportunity and grabbed onto it,  writing and securing a $40,000 grant through the Knight foundation to bolster our media program. It was working directly with her on that program when I realized what a fantastic leader she was. 

Not that I didn't appreciate her leadership before, but during the CMIP I saw more clearly firsthand. She always seemed to know how to encourage us to think big while operating within some significant constraints. UA was starting to feel the budgetary crunch around that time, but with her guidance we were able to create a successful program that saw our students head to Washington DC to learn firsthand from the journalists at NPR and the Social Media Editor for the Washington Post. 

 As I was preparing to write this I found myself searching back for photos and reading old emails. I found an email I sent her with a photo of our group in DC, Her response said (in part), "I demand that you stop having fun until I can join you. I am so glad to see such happy smiling faces of students and faculty. Tell everyone how proud I am of them and their willingness to take a risk on a kernel of an idea that the four of you brought to fruition. Have a drink on me -- you all deserve it!"

When we returned, we had a lovely get together on the patio of Dr. Val Pipps' insanely amazing mid century modern home in West Akron where we celebrated the incredible growth we saw in the students who participated in that program. What a happy memory that is for me.

After that, she and I embarked on a multi-year and ultimately failed quest to secure continued funding for the program. During that time, politics at work became very challenging, and with budgets shrinking, starvation mentality had already sunk in. One day she sent an email that included her horoscope from the paper. The title of the email was: "isn't this funny?" It had to do with flourishing in the face of oppression. 

She was funny.  So funny.  I also found a flurry of one or two word emails that she sent during meetings or other moments where  our eyes had connected across the room with knowing glances.

Beth believed in me. Any time we were on a committee together, or working on a project together, I felt her consistently seeking valuing my counsel. Every single search committee we served on together was a success - even now. The people we selected still work in the school and are, in many ways, the pillars that keep it strong. 

Just before she departed UA for Kent State University, from which she would retire, she worked with another colleague to author/edit a text for our Introduction to Communication class. I teared up a little bit when I found her response to my chapter submission.

"Wow Julie, this is a fantastic chapter -- well done. When is the book coming out?

I think you had better go on for a Ph.D., you look like a natural writer.

Talk soon,

Beth"

Reading that now as I scrape through our communications looking for something -- a sense of her maybe? -- again, that lump in my throat. I don't know if I'll ever go on for a Ph.D., but if I ever write a PR text, I'll dedicate it to her.

Over the past five years or so, we would get together for dinner now and again or have these long phone calls where we updated one another on our lives. She talked about her daughter and I talked about my four kiddos, and of course filled her in on all of the office gossip of the day.  

The last time I saw her was at Dr. Andy Rancer's funeral -- too long ago really. Speaking of Andy, I plan to imagine the two of them counseling/training the angels on how to communicate with us humans one-on-one together from now on.

When I read the news of her passing it stopped me in my tracks. I wish I could have had one last dinner with her, or one last super long phone call.

I immediately (as any social media nerd would) went to her Facebook page to look for answers. I noticed that her profile photo and cover photo are still the ones I added there for her in 2014. She had asked me for help with her Facebook page, and I remember being excited about the silly little photo of two fingers with smiley faces that I sent her as a suggestion for the cover. Somehow, seeing that she still had my photo of her (I took it out front of Kolbe) and the little fingers there broke me.

With Beth, there are lots of little memories. The "You are My Sunshine" pictures she gave me at my baby shower or our dinner meetups at Blue Canyon Kitchen & Tavern in Twinsburg - the many words of encouragement and votes of confidence over the years.

One of the first memories that popped into my head, thinking about Beth, was the time she cut my  photo in the Plain Dealer, singing with the Cleveland Orchestra Chorus. She cut it out and posted it on the department billboard like a proud parent. I hope, if I ever have the opportunity for a leadership role, that I lead the way she did - with generosity and care.

Can you find me in the photo? I was very emphatically annunciating my words.

Tomorrow, I am deeply honored to provide music for her service with my sister Joy. I don't know if she ever got to hear me sing or see me play, so hopefully she can watch from her current vantage point and see all the people coming out to memorialize her.

I will never forget that she clipped out my photo, or the first time I heard her mispronounce my name that day I walked in unannounced (it continued to be a struggle, which always made me smile).

I will not forget you Beth. I will not forget the deep influence you have had on my life, the joy you have brought me in my career and the encouragement you have given me. 

Though I never had you as a professor, you were my teacher too.