by Scott Arney
Chief Executive Officer
National Police Federal Credit Union
It’s the spring of 1977 and I’m feeling good. I am about to complete the fourth grade, and, by all accounts, things are going pretty well.
I don’t have any real concerns or worries, and I am not thinking about the future, except that summer break is approaching and I’m looking forward to the start of my third season in Little League.
Earlier on this particular day, my team won a playground wide four-square tournament. At dinner that night, I relayed the story of our victory to my family and tried not to leave out any details because I was convinced that they would be as interested in hearing my story as I was in telling it.
I talked about who was on my team, how we chose teams, who we beat, and what the scores of each game were. When I concluded my tale and continued to bask in the glory of the victory, my dad asked me how the other kids handled their defeat and if any of my friends had any hard feelings about not being on the winning team.
I said that we were all friends, there could only be four kids on each team, and I thought everyone was happy for the winners. Nobody seemed bent out of shape, and everyone knew we’d select new teams and play again soon.
His response is what I have remembered for nearly 50 years. He said, “Wow, that’s great! At my age, I’m lucky to be able to call five people my friend.”
In fourth grade, everything was simple. I had no concept of what changes I would experience or any idea how soon those changes would begin in my own life, let alone in the lives of my friends and the people that I knew at that age. Two years later we moved away, and I found myself in a new school. I didn’t know a single kid. I had never even visited the town we moved to so my familiarity with my surroundings was close to zero. That is also the number of kids from that day on the playground that I am in touch with today.
But I am not writing this to lament changes in life. Nor am I going to write about the complexities that develop or the adversities we all face. Changes and challenges are part of life, and they often put direct pressure on friendships and relationships, even ones that are meaningful. No, this is about celebrating the friends I do have and the reasons those friendships endure.
I am fortunate to be able to say that I have had good friends throughout my life. It is also true that I have lost touch with many of them. You may disagree, but I do not think of
that as a negative. I choose to look back in appreciation for the experiences that I have had and the people I have known. To borrow from Dr. Seuss, I am thankful for those times and especially the people I shared them with, not sad they are over or that we are no longer friends. I hope they feel the same way.
My dad’s response, like so many of his comments over the years, proved to be prophetic. Whether it is my personality or my life’s circumstances, I have never again thought that I had a playground full of friends. I don’t even wish I had a playground full of friends. I have considered myself lucky to have the friends that I have and realized early on that it was never about the number of people I considered friends. For me, it has always been about the quality of the people I call friends.
I would much rather look around and one hundred percent know that I’ve got a handful of people that I can count on no matter what than look out and see a sea of people that I casually know. Some people understandably find comfort in numbers even if the strength of their connection is casual. I find comfort in the certainty, conviction, and confidence of those I am closest to even if they are a select few.
I do not doubt that I can accomplish just about anything in business if I can handpick five of the best people around me as opposed to rolling with an army of a hundred people who may or may not be motivated by the same things and driven by the same purpose.
The older I get, the more value I find in identifying people who live with purpose. Loyalty has always been important to me. When I find it in people with whom I have forged forty-year friendships, it’s priceless.
I strive to be successful, to be an excellent husband and father, a strong leader, and a sound decision-maker. When I am working toward those things, I don’t just concentrate on what I need to do to achieve those goals. I think about my friends and family and do everything I can to help them achieve those things as well. In fact, I root even harder for them to be successful and to be rewarded for their efforts. I also full well know they are standing next to me doing the same thing.
I guess my point is that there is a certain level of intensity in meaningful, sustainable friendships and if I tried to apply that intensity across too broad of a network, I would risk sacrificing my very best and closest friendships. The qualities that comprise my feelings about friendship are finite and precious and I would never spread them too thinly.
Life is richer when you share it with a loving family and close friends. How you define those relationships is, of course, entirely up to you. I have deep admiration for people who are described as the type of person who would do anything for anybody at any time.
I am not that person, but I know that the select few people I do concentrate on know how much I love and value them. If you are one of those people and you happen to be reading this, there better not be a doubt in your mind that I’m with you! I absolutely know you’re with me!
