“Just run.”
The hardest part about cliff diving is getting your feet to leave the ground willingly. That’s why you take a running start; the first few jumps are your best Wile E. Coyote impression. Terror, hope, and excitement rush through you as you plummet toward the water, piercing into the depths after seconds that feel like eternity. “Run hard. It’s safe. The water is safe. Don’t worry. Don’t look at the edge, just run.” That’s what the people I trusted told me, looking 30 feet down at the waterfall’s plunge pool, and I’m still jumping to this day.
In 2023, I was allowed to manage internships and educational outreach for Access TCA. Previously, we had brought individuals and groups for visits to our Whitinsville facility, giving them the standard tour and pizza lunch. But when a local school reached out to explore placing three students with us for a semester, I started to run towards the edge as hard as I could.
Talking with my colleagues, I saw safe waters. We are a creative and compassionate community, a safe space to learn, grow, and thrive. I work with experts who craft experiences and turn education into engagement. We don’t need to wait for the next wave of retirements to find new talent. We can build a future with these students or give them the tools and knowledge to build their own. Don’t look at the edge, just run. During our first year, we started with the “simple” idea of having students design an exhibit. We ran hard and learned together on our way down. I experienced the program alongside them, learning what worked and what didn’t. Blank stares at the word “drayage” led to a day of vocabulary lessons, but they caught right on to the empathy map, imagining what we’d want attendees to see, think, feel, and do.
Our pitch deck didn’t win Olympic gold, but I saw new interests and confidence grow in the students and in myself. With the smiling students off to their futures, I started planning the next year’s program.
Year two brought new challenges, but a familiarity with the run-up and the way down helped me to enjoy a little bit of the scenery flashing by. I had a project plan, I had resource documents, and I had an example from the previous year. The ingenuity and excitement from the kids on day one threw all my plans out the window. We leaned into what they knew and loved, and the students grew into the project. Work sessions shifted from teaching concepts to collaborating with different in-house departments, and as the students listened to the discussions, they joined in. Client service managers stopped by to ask about the activations, advising on attendee flow and finding inspiration for their own exhibits. Designers offered feedback on floorplan layouts and countertop finishes, all while angling for a spot with the next year’s group.
The pitch presentation came, and we dragged in extra chairs to see what they had designed and hear why they made their choices. The Q&A session dug deep, revealing solutions and inspiration for our own client work. Another jump safely completed. The plan for Year Three? Full send.
Year three has just started, and the world is already upside down; it does that when your jump includes a backflip. This year, we are launching our most ambitious project yet, featuring our largest group: five kids, three booth concepts, modularity, and a comprehensive financial proposal.
I have a handle on the process all the way to the big splash. The students are more engaged than ever, ready with ideas on the first day. The water is safe and deep, and our internal team is excited to lend their time and perspective. I can savor the moment of weightlessness before gravity takes hold, the wind whips by, and the shock of the cold water hits. I can only imagine what they will design, how they will grow, and how my team will be inspired. Is it worth the time and effort? Absolutely, 100%. Is it a little crazy? Sure, the best things usually are. Do you want to try it too? Don’t worry. Don’t look at the edge. Just run, and we’ll see you at the bottom.