Tom Luce had just wrapped up a long session working on public education issues when we spoke. He had been in a conference room full of people who were helping an eighty-five year old client from West Texas decide how to deploy his resources. Tom’s a super achiever, passionate about public education, and he’s knee-deep in a program to help fix it.
His faith and the biblically-oriented class he’s attended faithfully for more than thirty years are at the center of his motivation to give his life to public service. But the choice hasn’t always been easy: Tom also has medical conditions that cause him to live with continual pain and prevent him from getting a good night’s sleep. But he refuses to let such things impede his work.
When we sat down, I asked Tom to tell me what parts of his life’s work had given him the most satisfaction.
“When I started the law firm,” he said, “my goal was to build an institution that would outlast me. From the very beginning, my goal was to build something strong enough to survive my departure, and doing that allowed me to be free, because I knew that I could step down when the time came without regrets. I could leave because I’d know I’d accomplished my goals, and others would take it from there.
“The other thing that I feel good about,” he said, “is the wonderful friendships I’ve developed over the years. God gave me the ability to be a good counselor, to put myself in the client’s shoes, and that has led to many, many rewarding relationships.” Friendships are important to Tom. He and I have known each other for fifteen years.
“Tom, I know how much these friendships mean to you,” I said, “but it’s obvious that you also have a passion for a variety of projects. For example, you were the key guy in implementing billion dollar plus mergers, bringing a Magna Carta to this country and building a nationally recognized law firm.”
“Yes,” he said, “all of that was very satisfying to me, and being able to step out of my normal role in situations like that has made practicing law even more of a pleasure for me. But the real reason I’m drawn to institution building, Bob, is that I never really had a burning desire to be a lawyer. My first interest was in business, and I never really had any intention of practicing law. If I hadn’t gone into law, more than likely I would probably have been an entrepreneur, a builder of businesses. That’s where my gifts are, but as it turned out I took those skills and applied them to other things.”
“Most of us have different seasons in life,” I said. “Our passions change. Was there a point at which you felt the law firm was becoming more institutional than entrepreneurial?”
“It was entrepreneurial for a number of years,” he said. “We worked very hard at establishing our practice and acquiring clients, but I never wanted to be a managing partner, even though I did that job for many years. I felt that job demanded different skills, and I was more of an entrepreneur, not an institution runner. I wanted to use my entrepreneurial gifts, so turning the job of managing partner over to someone else was an easy step for me.”
“Was there a halftime period?” I asked. “Did you come to a point when you felt you’d been there and done that? Or did you decide there was still more to do?”
“I think it was a little of both,” he said. “I reached halftime in ’88 or ’89, when I decided to run for governor. I’d built a law firm and achieved some success, and I felt that the political arena might be the best way to make the move to significance.”
“Running for governor turned out to be a firebreak for you, didn’t it?” I said.
“Yes, it was,” he said, “and it was very difficult for me to go back to practicing law after I lost. That wasn’t what I felt I was supposed to be doing in the next stage of my life. I was searching for what to do next, but obviously the door I thought was open had been closed.”
“So, now, with a little perspective on all that, how do you feel about the experience?”
“I’m really glad I ran for governor,” he said. “I think I would have always wondered if that was something I was supposed to do if I hadn’t taken the risk. It was disappointing to lose, but I’m still glad I did it. The hard part was that I didn’t just lose the race but I also lost a lot of my financial security. I’d spent so much on the governor’s race that it was years before I was able to restore my assets.
“I eventually went on the board of Dell Inc,” Tom said, “and that’s what helped me rebuild my financial base and allowed me to focus again on public education, which led me to Just for the Kids. But basically I had to go back to ground zero before I could go on to what I was supposed to do next.”
“But at some point you got involved in Ross Perot’s presidential campaign,” I said. “When was that?”
“That was the spring of ’92,” he said. “and I felt I owed a debt to Ross for his early confidence in me that launched my career as a lawyer and helped me build my law firm. I discharged that obligation but was still wondering, Wait a minute, Lord! What did I misunderstand? I was seriously in need of some answers.”
It’s often surprising how unexpected changes of direction can lead us back to the things we’re supposed to discover. In Tom’s case, he realized that the thing that had given him his start in life—education—was really where he wanted to focus his service. He was the son of a single mother who worked as a sales clerk in a small shop in an upscale community. They lived in a modest apartment, but because they were in the Highland Park School District, Tom had the opportunity to go to some of the finest schools in the country.
Good schooling made Tom’s upward mobility possible, and he never forgot that. “I first got involved in education reform,” he told me, “because Ross Perot asked me to. Ross was our biggest client, and he volunteered me for a couple of projects, so that’s why I did it. Once I got involved, I was overwhelmed by a sense of gratitude for the education I’d received. But in the background was this sense of righteous anger because I’d had such a good education, and here were kids who were being crippled for life by the very schools that should be helping them to succeed.
“The fact that my mother sacrificed her own interests for my sake,” he said, “was what enabled me to do all the things I’ve done. But suddenly I was seeing kids who weren’t getting any help at all, and that really made me angry.
“You’ve often talked about finding your passion, Bob, and what got me out of being stuck in halftime, and what really got me over the hump of being involved in making a difference for others, was stepping out and hiring somebody to come in and help me solve the problems. It was a critical first step, and it turned out to be the step that helped me move beyond my halftime experience. There’s something about committing to
another person that forces you to make a serious decision to do something.”
“And was that when you hired Brad?” I asked.
“That’s right,” he said. “I first met Brad Duggan in 1983. He’d been president of the Texas Elementary School Principal Association. Only two education organizations out of about eighty had backed the 1983 education reform bill, and Brad’s group was one of them. I knew he was dedicated to reform, and I had a vision to form an organization to help make changes. That was the basis of Just for the Kids
1. So I asked Brad if he’d join me and help build the organization, and fortunately he said yes.
“I remember that conversation very well. Brad said he’d love to do it, but he wanted to know if I was serious or just dabbling. So he said, ‘Tom, I’d be making a big jump to come with you. How long will you be committed to this?’ So I told him I was in it for three to five years, at the least. And if it worked out as we hoped, I was in for the long run. Well, that was a critical decision for both of us. I’d committed for a certain number of years, and that was the big step in making Just for the Kids happen.
“Since that time,” Tom continued, “Just for the Kids has found a unique specialization: collecting data on school performance all over the country. Statistics are collected on every phase of the education process, segmented by social and economic factors. From that analysis it’s possible to identify the best schools by grade and by subject with every type of student population, and then determine how they achieved superior results. Most importantly, we then make those “best practices” available to educators and parents on the Internet.
“If parents can see the performance of their kids’ schools, then they’ll be better equipped to judge how well the schools are doing and what kind of education their kids are getting. In fact, the No Child Left Behind program implemented by the Bush administration mandates that performance data be collected on every school in the country.
“Administrators may say, ‘If you had the kids I have, coming from single-parent homes, who move around a lot or are on the free-lunch program, your kids wouldn’t perform well either.’ But Just for the Kids gives parents the facts, showing how other schools with the same problems are performing. It gives them objective standards, so principals, administrators, and parents can see what’s really happening. And principals who are trying to make excuses for their shoddy performance can be held accountable.”
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