Tara Ross

Like most of us lucky enough to call Suzette our friend, the idea of selecting one or even a couple of memories is pure torture! The letters that string together the word “Suzette” bring up far too many images and instant replays to discern a single memory that could float to the top.

But if I have to pick, well, it’s this:

In 2001 Suzette and I were both in the IAMBA Graduate program at Bentley College. We had revved our engines as another (and final) year of poignant, purposeful, painful drama began - and would take our lifetime to unravel.

Soon after we jumped back in, September 11, 2001 exploded. School was shut down for a couple of days as we, with the world, watched in horror and shock and disbelief. When school reopened, we returned, appropriately, to our Global Studies class. The professor began with an opportunity to share thoughts about what had occurred (NOTE: as any IAMBA teacher knew, open discussion was about as dangerous as asking folks to turn off “Instant Messenger” at the time. But … given the circumstances, 9/11 hung heavily in the air and needed to be voiced.)

The comments ranged from trite, huffy dismissals all the way to our Lebanese classmate who described living in fear of hearing about these types of intentional, fatal attacks each time she called home.

Eventually, Suzette raised her hand. When called upon, she looked up from her computer and asked one simple, solid question:

What Is Required of Me?

She sat in the back row and I remember looking up and over at her. I remember how she casually glanced up from her laptop but that nothing was casual about what she said or how she said it. I remember being aware of the character oozing out of her. I remember thinking that her life felt bigger than what I knew mine to be. I remember thinking that this was someone who does not consider herself an outsider, but a PART of these moments in history, a spoke in the wheel of her community, that her actions could impact her world. She felt a responsibility to feel and think and do. She was not only a woman of faith, but one of action. I saw that faith – and wanted to find my own.

As the end of 2001 would pass and 2002 and the years beyond came and went, I would have many adventures with the woman in the back row who became my dear, trusted friend, Suzette.

I would realize that that moment in Global Studies summed up her heart: contemplative, curious, compassionate, composed ... and courageous.

She became the person that picked me up off the floors of my life (i.e. the literal floor in Waltham, the actual sidewalk in Salt Lake City, the carpet of many hotels on business) and the person that cheered me on as I found my feet again and again.

I thank God for creating you, for sharing you. I thank God that I get to walk with you and feel safe. I thank God for the piece of your heart that I carry with me.

I honor God for not only giving you the courage to ask the question but for filling you with the strength to act on the answer. And I ask God to love you as you are so loved.

Happy 40th Birthday, Suzette.
I love you.