They all cried...

Last night, I volunteered at the senior night for my daughter’s high school cross country team. As a freshman parent, I’m learning about all the team traditions. This event is a long-standing one where the seniors are recognized by their teammates.

My volunteer role was serving pasta Bolognese to the athletes and their families. It was a busy shift, given how much pasta high school runners can eat!

I didn’t plan to stay to watch the program that followed the dinner, but am glad I did. After the many plates of pasta were cleared, the seniors took their seats at the front of the auditorium. One by one, each was brought on stage and recognized by two underclassmen. With either a spiral-bound notebook or a phone in hand, the underclassmen read aloud the many ways their senior had influenced them, both on and off the running path.

There were plenty of laughs throughout the night. My favorite moment was when a student recalled being the passenger in a senior’s car when they got pulled over for speeding, only for the senior’s mom to find out about it last night—oops!

But more than the laughs, there were tears.

They all cried.

Without fail, when these heartfelt words were spoken in front of the entire team and their families, the tears came, and in some cases, even sobs.

What I didn’t expect was to see my own daughter take the microphone to honor the senior who had made the biggest difference in her life this season. My daughter is a rock—she’s the type who laughs, not cries, in emotional or uncomfortable situations. Some might even call her stoic. I thought she’d make it through her speech without shedding a tear, but she didn’t. The line that got her was: “You showed me that it’s okay to have my own opinion and to express it.”

This has been my daughter’s biggest challenge moving from eighth grade to high school. She’s starting to see that it’s often the loudest voice that gets heard, not necessarily the most thoughtful one. She’s noticed that opinions are often shaped by short TikTok videos rather than deep, meaningful conversations. And it bothers her.

In her senior role model, she found someone she could talk to on long runs. This senior reassured her that the grades she earns during the first semester of freshman year don’t define her. She’s shown my daughter what’s possible in a large high school where it’s easy to feel lost.

Thanks to role models like this, my daughter is gaining more confidence as she embarks on her lifelong journey of having her voice heard—even when it means speaking over louder, but not always wiser, voices.

There wasn’t a single mention of trophies, first-place finishes, or team victories. It was all heart.

I’m glad I had so many surprises last night. Now I know to bring tissues in three years, when it will be my daughter’s turn to fill those role model shoes.

How you can apply this:

If you’re like my clients and recent audiences, your October is NO JOKE. There's too much work and too little time. Anxiety is rising over national and global issues, and there’s fear in the uncertainty of what’s ahead.

Last night, I escaped all of that noise as I listened to these high school girls speak from the heart.

I invite YOU to write a similar acknowledgment.

1. Who is the equivalent of your senior honoree? Identify one person making a difference in your life now or who has done so in the past.
2. Pull out your spiral-bound notebook or phone and tell them what they mean to you.
3. Simply writing it down might lift your spirits. Taking the bold step of calling them to share it, or sending it electronically or by mail, will keep that ripple growing.

Let’s put some good out into the world today.

Thank you for reading this article. I draw on my experiences as a coach, author and speaker, as well as my roles of wife, daughter, mother, sister and friend to create content on meaningful connections and living authentically. I recently documented my 6-month Quest to "Shed the Heavy" and invite you to subscribe and follow along as I continue my progress. Other work that might be of interest: 52 Weeks of Meaningful Connections and my bestselling book Let Her Out: Reclaim Who You Have Always Been.