Interview with Matthew V Brown, Ph.D.

When you tell your story, how much do you attribute to things that happened to you versus who you consciously decided to become?

I happen to believe that much more “happens to us” than we would like to believe, especially when we are young. As time passes and experience accrues, we learn how to “make sense” of what we perceive and what occurs within… Even as we age, the 80/20 split of what goes on versus what we consciously shape persists.

However, that being said, human beings do have “will” and some fortunate few exact their will, consciously influencing their station in society and their projections of themselves through art, political influence, decision-making, conflict-making, and sheer force and violence.

It is complex to consider anyone consciously deciding (and enacting) what to become, and yet, on occasion, society seems to enable certain personae that exercise a talent, perform in valued and attractive ways, or succeed at something deemed worthy of recognition or reward. For example, one may practice a musical instrument or dramatic exposition from a very young age, then by opportunity perform their acquired skill beyond a certain acceptable level and achieve wide-spread social attention and praise rising to what is called “fame” or “celebrity.” Then again, another person may simply be considered highly attractive physically and achieve the same thing. The question of which one consciously decided to become famous is anyone’s guess.

One caveat about whether people (artists, creatives, celebrities, etc.) consciously decide to become this label or that label…implies that their art becomes public at some point. A painter or sculptor may create works of art privately from a very young age, and all alone like a hermit, yet the label of “artist” or the works labelled “art” are certainly socially constructed.

So, to answer your question in earnest–this derivative of the nature-nurture dilemma…I think of each individual as a vessel and a reed. The vessel exists openly in a world of influences that poke, prod, and shape us daily as we breathe. And the reed stretches toward the light. It is the light that informs us what we might be…we feel what is possible as we stake our place in it…”move over that is my seat” wrestles with “go ahead, that seat is yours.”

What are you most proud of about your character?  

Quite frankly, I am hardly aware of my own character as much as of the mirror that reflects what others present me. For example, my wife informs me of my various good-natured actions and ill-timed responses. I am not exactly proud of my character so much as I am secured by it. I have always been a bit of a moralist, perhaps because I am a first-born boy and my family (while not overtly religious) seemed to impart in me a strong sense of right and wrong. Yet, I think the neighborhood I grew up in (the east side of Detroit) also granted me a firm sense of justice, fair play, and freedom.

How do you overcome trauma?

I am unsure that most of us have completely overcome certain traumas. The reason I say this is because there are a few childhood events that still affect me dramatically that occurred over fifty years ago. Death, injuries, abuses, etc., mare the memory landscape for me. Whether those events were the result of circumstances beyond my control (that happened to you) or occurrences where my own decisions helped to enact a resultant trauma (injury of overwhelming nature), I tend to carry in my memories a kind of repeat process…of what happened before, during, and after the event…the wake and wave of diluted dulling pain.

I believe we endure rather than overcome. It is difficult to reckon with trauma’s latent effects…we heal, but it takes time and care. I believe more in self-care these days. However, I also believe that other people can play a huge positive role in helping ease the pain. EVERYONE experiences some degree of trauma, some more painful than others. It is difficult to reach out to others, and I am sure many people suffer alone with the memory of traumas as well as with more acute symptoms (and injuries that simply don’t heal and become chronic).

Can you think of a moment your life felt empty?

I was 18 years old in 1974. I barely managed to graduate from high school after falling from 7th in my class to 384^th. I wasn’t sure what was going on other than I began to smoke a lot of marijuana thinking I was heading to Vietnam with the Army…and toward certain death. I felt like I was doomed and no one could help me. I had convinced myself that I was going to die. I dreamed about my own demise constantly.

I felt no one cared. Not my parents, not my friends, not my neighbors…they all seemed very distant and focused on their own lives. I thought I had no future. I felt like I was condemned to hell. Yet, I couldn’t figure out what I had done to deserve such a fate…it turned out it was nothing…I had simply given up on myself.

Can you think of a moment your life felt full?

Twenty years later in 1994, I met a young woman named Mia in Marquette, MI. I was finally finishing college after a very long challenge. In fact, I was earning a master’s degree in education, an opportunity that I took advantage of that came along simply by luck. I could not believe that I had met such an amazing woman and become so deeply in love with her. She was living in Marquette (which was a surprise), and I learned that she had endured a traumatic injury at 20, having been hit by a car while riding her bike.

My life felt so full when I got married at 37. So many things happened to me then that I had previously given up on…having a family, having a good career, and accumulating some possessions such as property, a car, clothes, etc. I was poor growing up, but I didn’t know how poor until my mid-thirties came along. It was one thing to be alone and poor, but having a wife meant I had to find a way to generate a bit of income, and yet I had very little equity or the means to earn until I became a doctoral student at UM. I was looking at my social security earnings report, and it told me that I didn’t earn more $12,000 in one year until I was 42 years old (1998), and that was the first year I became a teaching assistant at the University of Michigan and completing my doctoral coursework toward eventually earning my Ph. D. in 2003.

What is the essential difference between emptiness and fulfillment?

The essential difference between feeling one’s life is empty or full may be quite different for different people, however for me what continues to make my life feel full is threefold:

1. The first and most important involves my family. I have been married to Mia for 30 years now, and she is everything to me; my guiding light. I do not have much of a spiritual center, and if anything, I am inclined to think of myself as a kind of Western-style Buddhist-Christian agnostic, but my love for Mia is something beyond my spiritual understanding, and any life without her would be meaningless. She is battling ovarian cancer now, beating it, and I pray every day for us to continue living fully together. Along with that is my one and only daughter, who is our family’s future. I am extremely proud of her, her intelligence, and her demanding defiant independence! I could not have imagined a more brilliant, forgiving daughter who I also love beyond measure.
2. The second is my home. Our home is the product of our collective labor and collaborative spirit. We built our house ourselves in 2011. Even my daughter put her building skills to work. I was lucky again running into some old high school friends I worked with for a season or two, and they volunteered to repay me the favor and donated their time and labor toward our efforts after I had helped them build their parent’s house. They gave us a great discount on labor and materials making the build possible. My wife’s mother also came through with some financing for us as well. We took a small 900-square-foot house and tripled its size.
3. The third is my work as a professor and consultant over twenty-five years of teaching and leading international development work in more than a dozen countries. After completing a bachelor’s degree at Northern Michigan University, I was able to gain all sorts of professional opportunities that paved the way to earning a Ph. D. at the University of Michigan and becoming a professor of organizational behavior. I conducted original research, published journal articles, taught several dozen college-level and executive education courses, and built a modest network of colleagues who shared my field of interest. I am still in contact with a few of them until this day even though I have informally retired from my academic life. I did happen to publish my book last year which exists largely due to my amazing friendship with Esther Wojcicki, the Godmother of Silicon Valley. This particular work demonstrates how serendipity and empathy have guided my entire life, healed me from trauma, and enriched my family, home, and legacy of work.

What advice would you give to your younger self?

First, I would say not to become a survivalist, letting self-absorption and self-pity be your primary motivators. Work past the trauma (and post-trauma depression) by reaching out, ask for help, shorten the cycles of pain and reduce the psychic cost. Cherish the small wins in life, and help others achieve their own small wins. Live adventurously and take some risks; however, don’t risk your life…climb around as opposed to race around. Life is not a test to get to the top, it is an endurance marathon and learning challenge…one fares better at mountaineering getting down safe. Take your deserving friends for walks outside and ask them what you can do to be a better friend. Build a great list of people that will attend your funeral. Give of yourself daily.