In the 1950s, my sights were set on being number one no matter what it cost. It was not widely accepted by the male student body for a girl to run for president of the high school student body. However, my family, consisting of mom, dad, 3 brothers and a sister, encouraged me to take up the challenge. With your support, we launched an electoral campaign that would be enviable by today’s politicians. The foot of my 5-year-old sister was the model for the footprints that we cut out of black cardboard. We wrote “Mickey for President” in white ink on each footprint and covered the school grounds with them. There were hundreds of black footprints running down the hallways and up the walls. Extras were also made for lapel pins. I’m sure if you searched the school grounds today, you would possibly find traces of those tracks. We went to our local meat market for rolls of brown paper to make banners that we would hang from the gym rafters. The school’s custodians were recruited to climb its highest stairs and put up the banners. It was a precarious job, not one of their regular duties, but they happily accepted my request and carefully hung the banners in the gym.
My opponent in the campaign was a star soccer player and ex-boyfriend of mine. We were both fiercely competitive. As a child, I was smart enough to know that even then I needed to be delicate, but aggressive enough to be convincing in my campaign. When it came to writing a speech I was speechless. The speech would be given in front of the student body, which at that time numbered 450 people. Although he interacted with most of them on a daily basis, the idea of giving a speech in front of the entire group was terrifying. My mom had a lot more confidence in me than I could ever have in myself. She constantly encouraged me to get involved and be the best that I could be. So I was relieved when the two of us sat down together to compose my campaign speech. He always knew the right words for the occasion. For the next two weeks I walked around the house reciting my speech to my family. They all got to know it as well as I did.
On the day the speeches were to be delivered, my opponent made the first one. His jokes about longer lunch hours and breaks were met with raucous fanfare from his sporty friends. I was wondering how he could compete with his wits. It seemed to dominate both the males and the fainted females in the audience. Leaving the podium between shouts and cheers, his attitude was frivolous, as if he had already won the election. I hadn’t completely resigned myself to the fact that he could win, as I still had a few tricks in my bag. When it was my turn at the microphone, at just the right time, one of my campaign workers came out on his scooter in front of the audience. She was dressed in a Mickey Mouse costume, full of ears. As he carefully pulled the strings attached to the banners, they unrolled, that is, all but one. My heart sank when he yanked several more times and the banner refused to unfold. All that work and now the banners wouldn’t be as effective. It was disappointing until Mickey Mouse moved on to the remaining banner, which was unrolled and revealed “Mickey for President.” There was an enthusiastic applause from the audience as they thought it had been planned that way. I began to feel more comfortable in front of the students and I was able to continue with my speech. The events of the day had been so overwhelming that I remember uttering the words, but I can’t remember exactly what was said. It must have been convincing because I won the election.
As exciting as it was to emerge victorious and be one of the first female student body presidents at my school, the excitement turned to nervousness at the thought of having to give another speech. Knowing very well that my popularity did not extend to the entire audience, that is, to the football team, I was afraid of being stage frightened. But my mom was there supporting me once again. She assured me that the election had been won fair and square. Obviously, most of the student body had supported me, so I didn’t have to be nervous about facing them. Once again, my speechwriter and I sat down to write an acceptance speech. I was surprised after writing a few sentences and thanking the voters who supported me, when Mom said, “Don’t forget to thank the janitors.” I thought this was strange since they had not voted for me. He pointed to all the work they had done with the banners and the massive cleanup after the campaign. I agreed and we ended the speech by adding a thank you to the anonymous heroes of my campaign, the janitors.
On the day of the convention my stomach knotted. Speaking in public was still a strange thing to me. I asked that the custodians be present at the assembly. When I got to the part where I should thank you, I asked you to stand up. Seeing how their smiles widened and their faces reddened, I thanked them and the audience cheered enthusiastically. The most amazing thing happened when I finished my speech. The crowd, including the soccer team, gave me a standing ovation. Everyone cheered and applauded. I felt as if I had been transported to a distant place.
Since that day in 1958, my life has taken many twists and turns. Interestingly, public speaking has become my passion. Although my favorite speechwriter is no longer here to guide me, his words of encouragement and wise advice live on me. Learning at a young age, the importance of putting others first has opened many doors for me in my life and career. I recently spoke at my company’s awards luncheon where I related the story of the campaign. My little sister, who is now 50 years old and works for the company, was sitting in the audience. She had never heard the story and was too young when it happened to remember the facts. After the janitor appreciation speech, I shared with the audience that the girl who served as a model for the footprints was sitting between them and her footprints are still in my heart. No one knew we were related until I introduced her as my sister. He has become a beautiful and highly respected person in the company. I thanked him for everything he has done for me in my life. There was not a dry eye in the audience.
Almost 50 years later, I could feel the presence of my mom. I knew in my heart that the simple act of acknowledging those who have been instrumental in our lives is the best advice I could have received. It is also the best advice I have to give.