To The City Of Lynn
To the city of Lynn,
Today, I'm sharing something difficult and deeply meaningful. After much prayer, reflection, and conversations with people I trust, I have decided to step away from my role as Community Manager of The Lynn Calm Team.
For the last 20 months, I have had the incredible privilege of helping take something that began as a vision in this city and help turn it into something real, something tangible. We didn't have a perfect roadmap. We didn't have all the answers. We were low-key building something new while the road was still being paved underneath us. But we showed up! And when we showed up, we listened. We learned. We walked the streets. We sat with people in hard moments. We connected people to the plethora of wonderful resources here in the city. We helped navigate conflict. We celebrated small victories. And most importantly, we built real relationships with people who were hurting, struggling, felt unseen, and didn't know where to turn. Sometimes, people just needed somebody to shut up, sit, listen, and remind them that they were seen and mattered; so that's what we did.
Today, I'm sharing something difficult and deeply meaningful. After much prayer, reflection, and conversations with people I trust, I have decided to step away from my role as Community Manager of The Lynn Calm Team.
For the last 20 months, I have had the incredible privilege of helping take something that began as a vision in this city and help turn it into something real, something tangible. We didn't have a perfect roadmap. We didn't have all the answers. We were low-key building something new while the road was still being paved underneath us. But we showed up! And when we showed up, we listened. We learned. We walked the streets. We sat with people in hard moments. We connected people to the plethora of wonderful resources here in the city. We helped navigate conflict. We celebrated small victories. And most importantly, we built real relationships with people who were hurting, struggling, felt unseen, and didn't know where to turn. Sometimes, people just needed somebody to shut up, sit, listen, and remind them that they were seen and mattered; so that's what we did.
Before I leave I want to be really clear about something
The Lynn Calm Team was never created to solve every social problem in Lynn. It was never meant to solve homelessness on its own. It was never designed to walk into a complex situation and somehow fix everything before the team left. And it was never intended to eliminate substance use or drug activity. C'mon, Calm is an unarmed response team, not the DEA.
The work is much more focused and much more human. Yes! We can absolutely be frustrated by the problems facing our city. We can want more resources. We can advocate for better coordination. We can demand that systems work better. We can, and we should. We should continue asking hard questions about homelessness and substance use, mental health, poverty, housing, and public safety. But we should be careful not to turn that frustration into an expectation that one small team is responsible for solving problems much bigger than the team itself. If we measure Calm by whether it personally eliminated homelessness or a drug epidemic, we have already misunderstood the team.
The better questions are:
Those are the right questions that help us understand whether this work is being done well. Judge the work according to those metrics. According to those KPIs. Because Calm is part of the response, not the entire response. And I will ALWAYS defend that distinction, not because Calm is perfect, but because I believe EVERY program should be evaluated on what it was actually created to do.
It's easy to sit behind a computer and complain; it's easy to stand in front of city officials at open mic and complain. But change happens through action, not by complaining and publicly calling out people and programs because YOUR expectations don't match what a program was created to deliver.
The work is much more focused and much more human. Yes! We can absolutely be frustrated by the problems facing our city. We can want more resources. We can advocate for better coordination. We can demand that systems work better. We can, and we should. We should continue asking hard questions about homelessness and substance use, mental health, poverty, housing, and public safety. But we should be careful not to turn that frustration into an expectation that one small team is responsible for solving problems much bigger than the team itself. If we measure Calm by whether it personally eliminated homelessness or a drug epidemic, we have already misunderstood the team.
The better questions are:
- Did the team respond appropriately?
- Did the team engage the person?
- Did the team reduce harm where it could?
- Did the team de-escalate and bring resolution?
- Did the team connect the person to the right resources?
- Did the team document what they encountered?
- Did the team know when something was beyond its scope and bring in the appropriate partner?
Those are the right questions that help us understand whether this work is being done well. Judge the work according to those metrics. According to those KPIs. Because Calm is part of the response, not the entire response. And I will ALWAYS defend that distinction, not because Calm is perfect, but because I believe EVERY program should be evaluated on what it was actually created to do.
It's easy to sit behind a computer and complain; it's easy to stand in front of city officials at open mic and complain. But change happens through action, not by complaining and publicly calling out people and programs because YOUR expectations don't match what a program was created to deliver.
And I'll tell you something else about my work
It was never an operation. It was real life, which may not always have been visible. It was real people with real problems, real stories, real pain, and real needs. Not everything needed a camera. Not everything needed a post. Not every person we helped needed to become a success story on social media. Some of the most meaningful things that happened during my time with Calm were never photographed, posted, or talked about publicly. And that's OK!
There were conversations that stayed private. People we helped who will never be known. Sometimes the best thing I could do was simply show up, do the work, and leave. I believe there is something sacred about helping people without needing everybody to know that you helped them. It's not always PR and photo ops, public servants. Not every good deed needs an audience. Just do the work because it's the work. Because someone needed you. Because a human being stood in front of you, and their dignity mattered more than your visibility. THAT was the work Calm tried to do. Not perfectly, but sincerely.
There were conversations that stayed private. People we helped who will never be known. Sometimes the best thing I could do was simply show up, do the work, and leave. I believe there is something sacred about helping people without needing everybody to know that you helped them. It's not always PR and photo ops, public servants. Not every good deed needs an audience. Just do the work because it's the work. Because someone needed you. Because a human being stood in front of you, and their dignity mattered more than your visibility. THAT was the work Calm tried to do. Not perfectly, but sincerely.
There is another part of this story that I think is important
Four years ago, I, very fearful but supported by my beautiful, self-sacrificing wife, stepped away from corporate America, from global work and global impact, to pursue something much more local. Let me just say that I was scared as hell. After decades in a corporate environment where my work had global reach and impact, I wanted to put my energy into the community I actually lived in. Where my kids went to school. Where I paid taxes. Where I pastored.
I wanted to know the people behind the numbers. I wanted to understand the neighborhoods beyond spreadsheets. I wanted to sit at tables where decisions about my city were being made. After 16 loyal years, my previous employer gave me that opportunity, and Lynn opened the doors for me.
Over the last four years, I have been given access to rooms, conversations, relationships, and tables that I never imagined I would sit at. I have had direct relationships with people throughout this city that I could not have imagined when I first made that decision. I've sat with residents, Community leaders, City and State Officials, and non-profit leaders. Young people, senior citizens, families. People experiencing homelessness, people navigating addiction, and mental health challenges. People with influence and people who often think they don't have any. And you know what? I have learned from all of them. And I'm a different person because of it.
This season of my life has been one of the greatest professional and personal gifts I have ever received. But time has a way of making things clearer. And it's become clear to me that it's time to return and keep building professionally for my future and my family's. That doesn't erase what these four years have meant. It doesn't diminish the work. It doesn't mean I care any less about Lynn. If anything, I leave this chapter knowing that the experience, relationships, and perspective I have gained here will travel with me into whatever comes next. Local impact changed me. And I know the next chapter will let me take everything Lynn has taught me and bring it to the next level of my professional life.
I want to be clear about this decision: While I am stepping away from my current role and transitioning into a new professional chapter, my commitment to the people and community of Lynn remains unchanged. Leaving a position does not mean leaving the city I care for deeply. I will continue to walk the streets, connect with residents, collaborate with local community partners, and dedicate myself to serving this wonderful city in every possible capacity I can from where I stand. Lynn is home, my heart is here.
I wanted to know the people behind the numbers. I wanted to understand the neighborhoods beyond spreadsheets. I wanted to sit at tables where decisions about my city were being made. After 16 loyal years, my previous employer gave me that opportunity, and Lynn opened the doors for me.
Over the last four years, I have been given access to rooms, conversations, relationships, and tables that I never imagined I would sit at. I have had direct relationships with people throughout this city that I could not have imagined when I first made that decision. I've sat with residents, Community leaders, City and State Officials, and non-profit leaders. Young people, senior citizens, families. People experiencing homelessness, people navigating addiction, and mental health challenges. People with influence and people who often think they don't have any. And you know what? I have learned from all of them. And I'm a different person because of it.
This season of my life has been one of the greatest professional and personal gifts I have ever received. But time has a way of making things clearer. And it's become clear to me that it's time to return and keep building professionally for my future and my family's. That doesn't erase what these four years have meant. It doesn't diminish the work. It doesn't mean I care any less about Lynn. If anything, I leave this chapter knowing that the experience, relationships, and perspective I have gained here will travel with me into whatever comes next. Local impact changed me. And I know the next chapter will let me take everything Lynn has taught me and bring it to the next level of my professional life.
I want to be clear about this decision: While I am stepping away from my current role and transitioning into a new professional chapter, my commitment to the people and community of Lynn remains unchanged. Leaving a position does not mean leaving the city I care for deeply. I will continue to walk the streets, connect with residents, collaborate with local community partners, and dedicate myself to serving this wonderful city in every possible capacity I can from where I stand. Lynn is home, my heart is here.
A FINAL WORD
Lynn taught me something during these four years that I will carry with me for the rest of my life: Real Community isn't built from behind a desk. It's built on the sidewalks. In conversations. At kitchen tables. In shelters. In neighborhoods that many don't want to walk through. In moments when someone decides to trust you with their story. And Lynn trusted me with a lot of stories; let me tell you. For that, I am forever grateful.
To the people who stopped me on the street - Thank You!
To the people who opened up to me - Thank You!
To the people who challenged me - Thank You!
To the people who welcomed Calm into their neighborhoods - Thank You!
To the people who imagined this program before it ever had a name - Thank You!
To our Advisory Committee, Partners, Organizations - Thank You!
To City leaders, community advocates, and everyone who helped build Calm - Thank You!
To Aaron Katz, For trusting that I could get this done, for listening, and for being the GOAT at Eliot - Thank You!
To the other GOAT, Mayor Jared C. Nicholson, For the opportunity to take this initiative from a thought to reality - Thank You!
To the City of Lynn - THANK YOU! I hope I made you proud.
And to the Calm Team: Man, I am so proud of you. What we built together is bigger than any one person. And that's EXACTLY how you should continue building. Never I, always Us. As the African philosophy of Ubuntu teaches us, "I am because we are." Or "We are because of each other." Continue to do the work not expecting recognition or applause - Continue to do the work because you truly care about Lynn.
So yes, I am leaving. But I'm not running away. I'm not turning my back on the work. I'm recognizing that one season has ended, and another is beginning. I leave with gratitude. I leave proud. I leave changed. And I leave knowing that the work will continue with capable, competent, qualified, empathetic people. I have said this countless times when talking about the Calm Team: We are standing on the shoulders of giants. And we are. The work started long before me, and it will continue long after me. I trust that the foundation we helped lay is strong enough for the next people to build even greater.
Lynn, thank you for trusting me with a small piece of your story. It truly has been one of the greatest honors of my professional and personal life. And don't worry. . . . . If you see me around the city, I'm still going to say hello, except I won't have my orange shirt.
To the people who stopped me on the street - Thank You!
To the people who opened up to me - Thank You!
To the people who challenged me - Thank You!
To the people who welcomed Calm into their neighborhoods - Thank You!
To the people who imagined this program before it ever had a name - Thank You!
To our Advisory Committee, Partners, Organizations - Thank You!
To City leaders, community advocates, and everyone who helped build Calm - Thank You!
To Aaron Katz, For trusting that I could get this done, for listening, and for being the GOAT at Eliot - Thank You!
To the other GOAT, Mayor Jared C. Nicholson, For the opportunity to take this initiative from a thought to reality - Thank You!
To the City of Lynn - THANK YOU! I hope I made you proud.
And to the Calm Team: Man, I am so proud of you. What we built together is bigger than any one person. And that's EXACTLY how you should continue building. Never I, always Us. As the African philosophy of Ubuntu teaches us, "I am because we are." Or "We are because of each other." Continue to do the work not expecting recognition or applause - Continue to do the work because you truly care about Lynn.
So yes, I am leaving. But I'm not running away. I'm not turning my back on the work. I'm recognizing that one season has ended, and another is beginning. I leave with gratitude. I leave proud. I leave changed. And I leave knowing that the work will continue with capable, competent, qualified, empathetic people. I have said this countless times when talking about the Calm Team: We are standing on the shoulders of giants. And we are. The work started long before me, and it will continue long after me. I trust that the foundation we helped lay is strong enough for the next people to build even greater.
Lynn, thank you for trusting me with a small piece of your story. It truly has been one of the greatest honors of my professional and personal life. And don't worry. . . . . If you see me around the city, I'm still going to say hello, except I won't have my orange shirt.
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