The Day Sarah Vomited On The Principal And Taught Me My First Lesson In Leadership

It was an unusually warm early June day when the kids at New York's Castlewood elementary school were crammed into the auditorium to wait for the buses to whisk us home.

I was one of them, a fifth grader, and like my friends filling the huge space, I was sweltering, thirsty, even a bit dizzy.

It seemed that the bus drivers had attended a training session and were a good hour late in arriving. On most days, it really wouldn't matter, but in this Sahara-like environment, it was unmitigated misery.

A bookish third grader named Sarah -- usually as quiet and shy as a librarian in training -- suddenly broke the rules, stood up, snaked past me in the crammed aisle, and approached the The Witch Of Castlewood, the dreaded Ms.S, assistant principal.

I could hear Sarah morph into a leader:

"The kids are boiling Ms. S. Can we wait for the buses in the playgrounds?"

Ms. S did not take to mentoring a young woman with the guts to take charge.

"Young lady, return to your seat NOW. How dare you ask for special privileges.  I may take this up with your parents. We cannot tolerate insubordination at The Castlewood School."

Exactly what I expected from Ms.S, but in one of those invaluable Wonder Years moments, I gained a new respect for Sarah. In fact, I wished I had taken up our case in spite of the outcome.

I had seen leadership on the part of a peer for the first time and I loved what I saw. And I made a mental note to take up the mantle the next time the opportunity arose.

The big white clock on the auditorium wall continued to click away, the temperatures seemed to rise, the heat and the tension it created all mounted. Still no buses.

Ms. S had the leadership title and the power to move us outside, but she clung to her initial edict as if she were in a showdown with nine-year old Sarah. "Flexibility" was not in her lexicon.

Twenty minutes or so after Sarah's first interface with Ms.S, she rose from her seat again and wiggled through the aisle, heading for what I guessed was another plea on behalf of her classmates. I was intrigued by her courage.

She headed in again toward Ms.S, tapped her gently on the arm and just as the witch was turning toward the young heroine, Sarah tried to speak but instead of words, vomit poured from her mouth and on to S's somber black dress.

Everyone saw the scene unfold, watching and disbelieving like witnessing a car accident in slow motion.

Sarah, the young leader in the making, had simply succumbed to the heat. But her valiant efforts became part of Castlewood lore. There wasn't a kid in the room who didn't love and admire her that day. And the days that followed.

And Ms.S taught me the rank stupidity and LACK of true leadership to stick to your decision simply because one has the power to do so.

We all learn about business and life in the strangest of ways.