The World Really Does Need More Stevens

Yesterday, we celebrated a friend gone far too soon. I have noticed one thing everyone loved about Steven was his ability to engage in the present moment, making the person or thing in front of him the only person or thing that mattered in the world. This is something we all ought to aim for.

“The world needs more Stevens” is something his uncle shared, and this is what hurts the most. It’s so true. He had a rare wisdom I have not found in many other people, a curiosity about what lit other people up that made them feel seen and safe and known. A genuine soul. He would find me during conferences we attended, and reliably greet me with, “Alright Chris, I need to know what you’re thinking about lately. I always love hearing what’s on your mind.”

This is why we had so many great conversations covering so many topics. He opened that door for everyone; he gave us a safe space to think and reflect and learn together. I remember being at a happy hour a couple years ago, and I noticed Steven managed to sit at every single table there at one point. Looking back at pictures from that evening, I think he made it into just about every group shot. He did not miss a chance to connect. He shared something unique with each person he loved because he lived below the surface, and gently welcomed us all to join him there.

Someone described Steven as “a friend they didn’t see coming, a friend I needed.” I wonder how many now realize that, too. I do. I met Steven at my first retreat with Ohio’s New Educators, a group I would become deeply involved with because of Steven. I went there knowing nobody and walked away with a genuine friend in Steven. I felt a sense of community because of my interactions with Steven; It’s why I came back.

I thought for sure he was a few years older than me when I first met him. It turned out he was only 23 or 24 at the time, and in his second year as a teacher. Another friend recently said how much they wish they could’ve seen him in his classroom. I do, too.

Steven loved without agenda. I keep looking back at a text another friend, Rachel, shared. “Hey, sorry you had a rough day. No words of wisdom but I support you forever!” He didn’t pretend, just offered his love and kinship in ways that other people needed to be okay.

The world needs more Steven’s because he listened to absorb and connect with the deeper parts of the person sharing. He felt like hearing other peoples perspectives and insights was a gift to receive, rather than something to respond to or compare to what he thought. A true learner. This made him an excellent leader, too.

Mister Rodgers gave a famous speech one time asking people in the crowd to reflect on “people who loved you into being.” There are now quite a few people that will think of Steven as they ponder that. I think about it when I look out into my backyard, imagining great conversations and laughs around the fire pit. Walking into a hotel. Testifying at the statehouse. Playing Jenga. Drinking a home-brewed beer. Steven is one of those people who loved so many people into being. It was a gift to know him, and his loss is felt so deeply.

We love you forever, my friend.