In the 1950's, my sights were set on being number one no matter what it took. It wasn't widely accepted by the male student body for a girl to run for High School Student Body President. However, my family, which consisted of Mom, Dad, 3 brothers and a sister, encouraged me to accept the challenge. With their support, we launched an election campaign that would be enviable by today's politicians. My 5 year old sister's foot was the model for the footprints we cut out of black construction paper. 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 halls and up the walls. There were also extras made for lapel pins. I'm certain if you were to search the school grounds today you might possibly find remnants of those footprints. We hounded our local meat market for rolls of butcher paper to make banners to be hung from the rafters in the gymnasium. The school janitors were enlisted to climb their highest ladders and attach the banners. It was a precarious job, not one of their regular duties, but they cheerfully granted my request and carefully hung the banners overhead in the gym.

My opponent in the campaign was a star football player and former boyfriend of mine. We were both fiercely competitive. Being a girl, I was smart enough to know, 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 at a loss for words. The speech was to be given in front of the student body, which was 450 strong at the time. Even though I interacted daily with most of them, the thought of giving a speech in front of the entire group was terrifying. My Mom had much more confidence in me than I could ever muster in myself. She constantly encouraged me to get involved and be the best I could be. So I was relieved when the two of us sat down together to draft my campaign speech. She always knew just the right words for the occasion. For the next two weeks I walked around the house reciting my speech to my family. They all came to know it as well as I did.

On the day the speeches were to be given, my opponent presented his first. His jokes about longer lunch hours and recesses were met with raucous fanfare from his jock buddies. I wondered how I could possibly compete with his wit. He seemed to dominate the males as well as the swooning females in the audience. Leaving the podium to shouts and cheers, his attitude was flippant, as though he had already won the election. I hadn't completely resigned myself to the fact he might win, since I still had a few tricks in my bag. When it was my turn at the microphone, on cue, one of my campaign workers rode out on her scooter in front of the audience. She was dressed in a Mickey Mouse costume, replete with ears. As she carefully tugged on the strings attached to the banners, they unrolled, that is, all except for one. My heart sank as she tugged several more times and the banner refused to unroll. All that work and now the banners would not be as effective. It was disappointing until Mickey Mouse moved onto the remaining banner, which unrolled revealing "Mickey for President". There was a rousing cheer from the audience, as they thought it had been planned that way. I began to feel more comfortable in front of the student body and was able to continue with my speech. The events of the day had been so overwhelming, I remember mouthing the words, but can't remember exactly what was said. It must have been convincing because I did win the election.

As exciting as it was to be victorious and one of the first female Student Body Presidents in my school, the excitement turned to jitters at the thought of having to make another speech. Knowing full well my popularity did not extend throughout the entire audience, namely the football team, I was afraid I would have stage fright. But my Mom was there shoring me up one more time. She assured me the election had been won fair and square. Obviously the majority of the student body had supported me so I needn't be nervous facing them. Once again, my speech writer and I sat down to draft 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 strange since they hadn't voted for me. She pointed out all the work they had done with the banners and the massive cleanup after the campaign. I agreed and we finished the speech adding a thank you to the unsung heroes of my campaign, the janitors.

On the day of the assembly, my stomach was in knots. Public speaking was still foreign to me. I requested the janitors be present at the assembly. When I came to the part where I was to thank them, I asked them to stand. Watching as their smiles grew wider and their faces reddened, I thanked them and the audience gave them a rousing cheer. The most amazing thing happened when I finished my speech. The audience, including the football team, gave me a standing ovation. They all cheered and applauded. I felt as though I had been transported to some far off place.

Since that day in 1958, my life has taken many twists and turns. Oddly enough, public speaking has become my passion. Although my favorite speechwriter is no longer here to guide me, her words of encouragement and sage advice live on in me. Learning at an early age, the importance of putting others first has opened many doors in my life and career. Recently, I spoke at my company's awards luncheon where I related the campaign story. My little sister, who is now 50 something, and works for the company, was seated in the audience. She had never heard the story and was too young when it took place to remember the events. After the speech about thanking the janitors, I shared with audience that the little girl who served as the model for the footprints was seated among them and her footprints are still in my heart today. No one was aware we were related until I introduced her as my sister. She has grown into a beautiful person and very well respected in the company. I thanked her for all she has done for me in my life. There was not a dry eye in the audience.

Nearly 50 years later, I could feel my Mom's presence. I knew in my heart the simple act of acknowledging those who have been instrumental in our lives is the very best advice I could have received. It is also the very best advice I have to give.