First Lesson in Leadership

Beyond how I got there, most of the stories I took away from cheerleading were of a teenager’s life within that context. We did practice hard and we did take ourselves seriously … we even endured a very arduous, very hot week each summer at the American Cheerleading Association’s camp at Mercer University … but as I read the stories of the Lady Viking’s focus on strategy and discipline, I realize the day-to-day work of even a good cheerleading squad paled in comparison.

A teenager’s life in Taylor County, Georgia in the late 1960s, early 1970s is bound to yield a good story or two, though. I remembered one this morning as I considered the environment I want to create for a new business.

My fellow cheerleaders will be too kind at the reunion to remind me of it, but the truth is, I could be a hard-driving captain … as obnoxious as I was in 8th grade, only different. I must have really enjoyed my first taste of power. Our sponsor, Jeri Harris had made a career change, leaving a void in team leadership. I tried to fill the hole, awkwardly, of course. Today cheerleading captain! Tomorrow the world!!!

It was my senior year and the powerful Lady Vikings weren’t so powerful anymore. It had been a death of sorts, but we were too young to know how to grieve properly. Then again, do we ever learn how to do that? We come to realize, though, that from time to time our universe shifts abruptly. It just happens, and it happens to everybody. Knowing that helps you brace for it, but it may not prevent you from feeling shell-shocked.

That’s how I felt the first time I went to an away game and saw the bleachers nearly empty. My gut ached knowing I’d never get back something I had dearly loved and so carelessly taken for granted. Perhaps part of the rigor I wanted for the cheerleading squad stemmed from a desire to be taken as seriously as we once were. Whatever the reason, I was too immature to realize I had neither of the two qualities essential to those who are a big pain the rear: charm and authority. Therefore, after a week or two of making those who failed to fully straighten their arms run laps around the gym, the entire squad quit.

Now, that possibility had never occurred to me. I did what most teenage girls would do in a similar situation; I cried. I was in the bathroom at school and Jan Hobbs was delivering the bad news. She was annoyed, too, but luckily for me our friendship struck a little deeper than it did with others. She’d try to fix things, she said … and did. If only all the world’s abuses of power could be remedied so quickly.

Most people want to be masters of their universe, or at the very least king or queen of something. Acquiring the skills to make you fit for the position, though, takes time. I am very grateful to have received that first lesson in power … Abuse it and lose it! … in the arms of the Lady Vikings family.

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!