In a panic, having lost control of the vehicle at high speed and swerving off the Data Highway, I assessed the impending impact and made quick mental notes for a feasibility study as the stationary tree moved closer rapidly. In a flash, ultimate outcomes passed before my eyes, like the newest edition of a celestial Clearslide/PowerPoint/Prezi presentation tool:

• Data drives performance as winter wind whips the data-driven snow.

• Real-time numbers are to outcomes what God is to Heaven.

• Data supersedes Life as Christ supersedes the angels.

• Vigorous data collection enhances and informs rigorous data selection.

• Data is to outcomes as outcomes are to income.

• Objectives tied to measurable outcomes bring numbers back into the game, turning benchwarmers into real-time benchmarks.

• Data quality ensures accountability, facilitates transparency, reducing redundancy.

• Performance indicators are ultimate vindicators, turning competitors into partners and sustaining creative growth by creating sustainable change.

• Data are plural – but only to the Brits…

These bulleted staff-development phantasms surged into my mind right before the massive, jarring crunch when my vehicle smashed into the Tree of Life that grows just off the Data-Driven Highway. I cannot recall the moment of collision, nor the impact assessment study that preceded it. It seemed many, many Continuing Staff Improvement sessions later when I awoke to the soothing pastel shades and muted color scheme of a projected graphic full of squiggly arrows, cyber-hieroglyphics and professionally-presented slides filled with corporate jargon. I was finally in Data Heaven where the numbers never lie but rise to live forever.  

    **I had achieved my final measurable objective!

Am I to be forever maimed
By a childhood I did not devise
Pulled down from every step I've gained
By the phantoms of my night
That twist and shift and leave me bare
In that harshest light of scorn-
That cannot be explained away
And haunt me even as I  rise
To struggle up the stairs again.
                          ljm

Upon this starry night
In a breath of sparkling life
My grand-daughter was born
In a world full of beauty
As well as traps and snares
She faces her first dawn
And we can give no more than love
Nor offer more than guidance
And vow only to be constant
For that is more than so many have

And so I whisper to her

You are made of bright newness
Innocent of prejudice
So to yourself be true
For many would give you their bigotries
Sell you their corrupted histories
But your truth lies within you
You, the blood of my blood
The child of my child
Have moved me beyond reason
At the wonder of creation

                                     By Phil Roberts