by Walter Boomsma, H.B., G.P.A.

The beginning of the day is always interesting. One of my tasks today involved an article submitted by a writer who added an acronym after her name. I had no idea what it stood for. As the saying goes, “Curiosity killed the cat.” So, I googled the acronym LCN.

According to the results, she might be a member of the Lamborghini Club Nederland, although I doubt it. La Cosa Nostra was reasonably close to the top of the list. I had 29 choices. I think I figured it out. I decided to write about the experience, so I wouldn’t feel like I had wasted time. Let’s think about acronyms.

As I roam around academic circles, signature lines are often replete with acronyms. Of course, everyone knows what B.S. is, but not all realize that P.H.D. could stand for the fact that the B.S. is “Piled Higher and Deeper.”

Many know that I spent many years working with Arthur Gary in real estate education. Arthur always had a long list of accreditations after his name on the materials he produced. (They didn’t fit on a business card.) A student once jokingly asked him if he knew what they all stood for. Given Arthur’s incredible memory, I was not surprised when he rattled them off alphabetically. I just kept it simple. What mattered to me was that Arthur was a P.A.G. (Pretty Amazing Guy).

I recently received an email from an academic that was genuinely mind-boggling. Her email signature included a lengthy paragraph of acronyms. That paragraph was longer than the email. I can’t say that I was particularly impressed by either. However, I did wonder if she was a P.S. (Professional Student).

Of course, I’m having fun with this and probably should apologize to those who are rightfully proud of their accomplishments. But our accomplishments may not be who we are. I enjoy the thought that we are human beings, not human doers. There should be a correlation between who we are and what we do, but the cart (what we do) shouldn’t get ahead of the horse (who we are).

It was nearly fifty years ago that I heard a speaker challenge his audience to be “growing, playful adults in search of unicorns.” It stuck. It combines the being and the doing. Sometimes, simplicity works. And fifty years ago, unicorns were simple, mythological creatures. Think of the song explaining that while other animals were boarding the ark, the unicorns were playing silly games. “That’s why you’ll never see a unicorn to this very day.” They are lovely animals but can be silly. Silly people can be fun.

What qualifies me to write this? I’ve added some designations to my name in the attribution:

• H.B. First and foremost, I am a human being. It could stand for over a hundred different things, but we’re keeping things simple.
• G.P.A. I am a growing, playful adult–not to be confused with Grade Point Average.

Today might be a good day to give yourself some letters after your name. Who do you want to be, and what do you want to do?