A Life-altering Experience

Every parent has a story or two they pull from their past to instruct their children on life's most important lessons. Apparently, my two sons, Daimon (23) and Ben (21) have heard my cheerleading story so often that they can predict when I'm about to tell it (rolling their eyes for effect) before I even get started! Whenever I want to inspire them to reach for their dreams, to look beyond rejection or defeat, to work hard at perfecting their best effort, I reach back into time for this anecdote. Usually Daimon and Ben are the only ones to hear the story, because I refrain from admitting my four years as a Taylor County cheerleader lest peers unfairly peg me as a mental and athletic lightweight. However, I do brag on the Taylor County Lady Vikings whenever the opportunity arises! That typically leads to someone asking what position I played, though, and I'm left with the equally feeble choices of lying about my role or admitting to being a lowly cheerleader ... "but we were good, too," I insist in defense.

I do believe my story is an instructive one. The lesson I learned has carried me through many challenges and is the inspiration for most of my successes:

If you noticed me when I moved to Taylor County in 8th grade, it was only because transplants were rare. I was skinny (and unappreciative of being so), with curly, unruly hair (it was before the era of blow dryers), thick glasses (thank God for contacts) and teeth reminiscent of Buggs Bunny. And to top it off, my dad was a teacher! I had determination, though, and apparently I was determined to stand out in a crowd. I did so by making a real menace of myself in Ms. Nelson's English class. Once, I even put a tack in her chair! Like most kids, I had no sense of consequence and at the end of the year tried out for the varsity cheerleading squad ... a long-held dream. I can still vividly recall listening for my name to be called over the intercom (in Mrs. Nelson's classroom) and then sucking up my tears when I realized I hadn't made the squad. My good friend Jan Hobbs later shared with me the reason she'd heard through the grapevine: I was obnoxious, though that word is a bit longer than most words we used at the time.

Throughout the summer, I held onto my dream. I practiced my cheers. I practiced walking gracefully ... well, as gracefully as an adolescent can be. I imagined myself being where I wanted to be. And when school began, I tried my best to be the model student. I didn't realize the significance of it at the time, but my French teacher was Jeri Harris, the cheerleading squad's sponsor. Then, just as the basketball season began, one of the cheerleaders had to leave the squad. As I've since been told, Jeri checked with my other teachers to see if my behavior and academic performance were consistently good. She then asked if I'd like to join the squad. I was the worst cheerleader on the squad and got there by sheer luck, but it was a starting point.

I'm grateful for that lesson, and I'm very honored to have had the opportunity to be a part of the Lady Vikings experience. I'm very much looking forward to reconnecting with everyone in March!