A Lesson From 45 Years Ago That Still Drives How I Show Up

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My mom and dad, both now dead, left me boxes of memory paraphernalia, in varying states of organization. Mom’s is labeled by the featured human and date; Dad’s is all thrown together such that a slide from Yellowstone in 1945 might be stuck to my sisters birth announcement.

Even worse, their cherished items are mixed in with the bits and bobs from my own childhood that I somehow deemed worthy of keeping: rose petals from a college boyfriend (my first flowers,) letters from home, and pictures of people I no longer recognize.

Every, single, time I try to sort through all these beauties (because I DO NOT want my kids to have to decide relevance when I leave this great earth!), I get sucked into the rabbit hole of memory lane. It is a massive project, and since Dad passed in 1995, obviously taking me awhile.

An old article from 1979 snagged me last weekend

This is me, accepting my rotary award for being Teenager of the Year.

Wha-what??

I was not from the popular crowds.

I was neither an athlete nor a thespian; not a beauty nor a freak. I loved animals and reading, old movies and antiques, school and working for cash money. On most days I felt awkward: too much, too little, too late.

This was the only award or recognition I remember winning as a kid since I neither participated in sports nor won any academic scholarships.

But on that day, I felt seen. I mean there was a Teenager Banquet AND a “substantial savings bond.” I think the bond was for $200 FYI.

But more importantly, I remember who I felt seen by.

Winning this award was a nomination process, and it was my boss at the iconic ice cream parlor I worked at, Dick Warren (also was my HS Guidance Counselor) who put me in the ring that year.

It was a total surprise to be nominated, and to win, and yet even all these years later I can tap back into the potent feeling that day of being on the inside. I was someone that mattered in a crowded school of 2000 students who all seemed (to me) much more awesome that I felt.

This feeling is one I wish I could bottle up and gift to all the business owners and people leaders I work with—it would bestow them with he most incredible super power.

More on this particular superpower and why it matters in this Friday’s Newsletter.

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