Life Lessons from an Unlikely Source

When I was in 8th grade, I wanted more than anything to be a 9th grade cheerleader. The coveted 6 spots on the cheerleading team were the coin of the realm for junior high, in a town that stopped everything else for football. I made the 12 finalists, and I remember the final try out. I recall most being unable to do the splits, flexibility not being my strength. The day the announcements came over the loudspeaker, I was a nervous wreck. The six names were read. The dozen red roses were delivered to each winner by the previous year's squad. I was crushed to be among the finalists whose names were not read and for whom the roses did not come.

At the end of 9th grade, I tried out for cheerleading for 10th grade...the first year of high school. I don't recall the try out, but again was disappointed in the outcome. In 10th grade, undeterred, I tried out for the Junior Varsity team. And, this time I made it. And I so wanted to be a Varsity Cheerleader my senior year that I asked a previous head cheerleader, Mary Ann, to help me.

I wrote the required original cheer and designed each move. I learned the required cheer, and practiced...and practiced. I showed up for try outs and remember feeling nervous but confident. I belted my cheer and seemed to really wow the judges. At the end of the try out, I was named Co-Captain of the Varsity Squad, which meant I'd scored second highest in the tryouts. I had set my sights on the goal and done all in my power to achieve it, including hard work and finding a coach.

I've often laughed at myself for wanting so greatly to be something which, in my older years, seemed to have little value. In fact, when a friend posted this picture to my Facebook page I commented "So embarrassing, and to think in high school being a cheerleader was my highest ambition". All these years later, I wonder why I didn't just spend my time with the theatre and music crowds...areas where I had obvious talent but were the realm of the "less cool". If only I'd have had the courage to focus on my real gifts at that precarious time in life.

There is one thing I've really undervalued though, a trait that was evident that transcends questions of coolness. I was really determined to become something and I chose not to let limitations like the 'splits" deter me from achieving my goal. Whatever happened to her! In fact, what made me a great Varsity Cheerleader was, in fact, not the splits (which I never could accomplish but in high school became the domain of the Song Leaders) but my ability to command a crowd of 5000. My theatrical ability, along with my persistence, served in my favor. I tapped into my gifts to achieve my aim.

Just last week I was notified that I did not receive entrance into our college's program for release time for ranked faculty to focus on scholarship. And while my notice affirmed my "promising scholarly agenda", the reason for denying my application was that my scholarship thus far hasn't reached the threshold for "meritorious scholarship". I was crushed. I've been a ranked faculty member for 6 months...just six months. In my 20 years as an administrator, I have done some solid writing but apparently not enough. When I uttered my disappointment to a colleague she said confidently, "you will". And I wondered why she so easily turned the corner to my reapplying in the future when I was stuck in the limitations of this particular “no”. At what point did I transition from hearing “no” to mean “not now” rather than “not ever”. When did “no” transition from a moment in which I had yet to display my potential (or others neglect to see it or the fit to be right) to one in which I internalized it to be the final word on my promise and potential.

I am a solid writer, but for a variety of reasons…some my own making but others belonging to external factor…I have yet to display that potential.

Apparently, My journey to becoming a cheerleader…and not just any cheerleader, the Varsity Co-Captain...offers some important lessons as I become a scholar. Now, that is something I honestly hadn’t imagined.