A durable dance partner

The very first time I met was Jim 32 years ago at Community Living Opportunities (CLO). I remember that first meeting and the unmistakable realization that I was in the presence of an exceptional man who radiated intelligence, kindness, and compassion. In the next decades, Jim and I became very close, forging a relationship that transcended our professional encounters and evolved into an enriching and unshakable friendship. This friendship gifted me with invaluable wealth. A wealth of knowledge. Just like countless others, I learned so much about Jim and from Jim. Something amazing, something beautiful happened in 1977. A group of parents dared to dream. They dreamed of a different life for their children with severe developmental disabilities. They dreamed of taking their loved ones out of the confines of institutions, so they could thrive within the community and live a rich, independent, and purposeful life. Back in 1977 this was an audacious dream, and they needed help. They needed someone just as audacious and daring as their dream. And they found Jim Sherman and Jan Sheldon who were already transforming the field of behavioral sciences at the University of Kansas. The husband-and-wife academic tandem embraced their vision, dressed their dream in the necessary logistics, and helped create a paradigm-shifting non-profit organization. This was the birth of CLO (now known as GoodLife Innovations). Today, it is impossible to adequately describe the impact and influence of Jim's contributions not only to CLO but to the entire field of Applied Behavioral Science. Dr. Sherman was not only a founding father of CLO but also an active participant in shaping its philosophy, day-to-day operations, guiding principles, programs, and initiatives. In fact, his devotion to CLO's mission was so deep that his legacy and the history of this organization are impossible to disentangle. Jim served tirelessly as a leader, consultant, and advocate, bridging the gap between two centuries, elevating minds, and changing attitudes. He gave CLO 40 invaluable years, including two decades as President and Chair of the Board of Directors. He was the academic engine behind several groundbreaking service models and as a professor at the University of Kansas mentored many of the organization's foundational leaders, including the CEO, Dr. Mike Strouse. As one of the most influential minds in the field of behavioral sciences, Dr. Sherman has received many accolades and distinctions throughout the years. He was a professor at the University of Kansas for 53 years and served as Chair of the department of Applied Behavioral Sciences for quarter of a century. He has authored or co-authored countless peer-reviewed articles, book chapters, and scientific publications. His lectures were legendary and unorthodox—they were peppered with humor, unexpected analogies, and magniloquent use of language. Accordingly, he was honored with multiple academic awards by the University of Kansas and nationally. And yet, he always considered CLO his biggest professional and personal accomplishment. To him, his service to men, women, and children with developmental disabilities superseded everything else. Analytical approach and careful interrogation of hard data are paramount to science, and Jim appreciated this, but what separated him was his startling ability to enrich the scientific method with his overwhelming emotional intelligence. He valued kindness, empathy, and compassion, and it is no coincidence that one of his biggest contributions was to the behavioral benefits of positive reinforcement. Many years ago, as part of my job at CLO I took Dr. Sherman on a tour of a Family Teaching Home. This was one of the first implementations of the new model. So, we spent over 2 hours with the family that served three men with disabilities in their home. Jim was clearly moved by the passion of the family teachers and the strength of their bond with the three men. After we left, he insisted on taking a walk around the neighborhood. We walked in silence for a while and then he stopped, looked me straight in the eyes and said, "This is it! All the work and all the effort were worth it. This is more valuable than a Ph.D. - more valuable than an award. Seeing this family makes my life meaningful!" And then he told me how his friend Dr. Todd Risley used to say that people need durable dance partners in life. Not just people with disabilities, all people. Dance partners, who know them, appreciate them, and are willing to dance with them through the joys and tribulations of life. "This family, Ivo", said Jim, "they are durable dance partners. It is such a beautiful dance to watch…What a privilege!" I remember this conversation to this day as if it was yesterday. Just as I remember that Dr. Sherman clearly had tears in his eyes—not tears of sorrow, no! But tears that illuminated his biggest purpose—the true meaning of his life. I already mentioned that to me personally, Dr. Sherman was a great friend. I could listen to him for hours. He had boundless knowledge that would take the conversation in multiple directions: from nanotechnologies, through basketball, to the policies of Robert Mugabe. Jim took up soccer in his thirties and played well into his seventies, which might be one of the most amazing things he has ever done. Soccer is a young man's game—it's all about fast twitch fibers and sprinting and yet just like with everything else, he excelled in it through hard work and meticulous attention to detail. For many years I played pick-up games with him on the University of Kansas soccer fields. Every Friday and Sunday. Sometimes there were just six people playing 3 on 3 for the simple reason that there was foot of snow on the ground. He would be there plowing through the snow with icicles hanging from his chin and a big smile on his face. He used the scientific method in deciphering the game and its intricacies. No fast twitch muscle fibers—no problem! Jim compensated with superior neural links. His mind…he just understood the angles of the game better than anyone, he harmonized group dynamics and manipulated game strategies in his favor. Not to mention that I've seen him use fearlessly and to perfection behavioral modification techniques on even the most despised soccer referees. His athletic acumen was undeniable, and he quickly became an indelible fixture of the Lawrence soccer community. For years, we played together on a legendary Lawrence adult league team called the "Ancients." He was by far the oldest in the league, and the rest of the players couldn't stop marveling at his skills and agility. One of our teammates once asked him, "How do you do it?" Jim answered, "Well, the truth is—no matter how much I try, I can never really remember I'm not a kid. Some of us grow old—others are forever kids." One time he had a long conversation with a particularly hostile referee during the match. I was puzzled so I asked him at halftime, "Jim, what were you guys talking about?" Jim looked at me and said just three words, "It is malleable!" I was even more puzzled, "What is malleable?" So he gives me this famous Jim Sherman coy smile and says, "The fickle mind of a soccer referee, of course." Naturally, in the second half the referee's bias had shifted toward our team, and we won the game. I remember when we lost the Sunflower Games by one goal after a furious final game on a 100-degree July afternoon. We were all devastated, but not our team captain, Jim. He came to the bench and told us, "Guys, keep your heads up. We didn't lose. It's just that the clock ran out right before our win." Later, I found out from Jan (Sheldon) that this was his favorite saying—a mantra he learned from his Pomona College football coach, Chuck Mills. Looking back, it is hard not to marvel at all of Jim Sherman's accomplishments. His life reads like a fictional novel. He grew up in the rural Pacific Northwest while his father fought in World War II and the Korean War. He was an elite athlete, playing both football and baseball in college. He served in the Reserve Officers' Training Corps, unlocked the doors of language for non-vocal adults and kids teaching them to speak for the very first time, joined the army at a time of war, developed a program that helped American soldiers learn Vietnamese, trained pigeons to guide missiles, gave lectures all over the country, formed functional alliances with some of the greatest academic minds in his field, created an early behavioral intervention program for children with autism, and helped countless people avoid permanent institutionalization. James Anthony Sherman was so many things: a great mind, a cascading influence as a teacher of countless teachers, a scholar, an advocate, a great orator, a captivating storyteller, an athlete, an amazing father and grandfather, a leader, a writer, a warrior, a beacon, a friend, an ageless kid; but most of all, he was a durable dance partner to so many people. And when Alzheimer's came and tried to steal the light of Jim's last years, it learned a valuable lesson. Sometimes even an incurable disease is rendered powerless. For when it runs into a durable dance partner and tries to steal his memories, it will find out that the theft means nothing when the memory of him is destined to live forever. See, soon or a later Jim always wins—it's just that sometimes the clock runs out. And then you realize that this particular game was not really a game—it was…a dance. And what a beautiful dance it was to watch. What a privilege! And as we are gathered here today on these mournful yet beautiful pages, let us celebrate and maybe shed some tears. Not tears of sorrow. No! But tears that illuminate a bigger purpose and a truly meaningful life. Farewell, Dr. Sherman! We will always love you and promise to keep on dancing! Data sharing not applicable to this article because no data sets were generated or analyzed during the current study.