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When I was in high school, I became interested in school politics. I observed that the election process was a type of popularity contest – combined with entertainment. The winning candidates most successfully lured their voters with artwork (posters) and or humorous speeches that left a name recognition which was about the only key to victory. Both the poster art and the public speaking were right up my alley and combining this with a low key schmoozing, I soon found that I had successfully been elected to the office of class president. A certain ego gratification accompanied the position and I enjoyed the feeling of being a chosen leader – even if the choosing process relied on the lowest level of discretion.
At any rate, I soon found myself engaged in a situation where certain fairly inconsequential decisions were to be made by myself and others, working in various committees. I quickly discovered that, this aspect of the presidency was tedious and uninteresting. And what if, at times, the decisions arrived at were not my own or ones that I could stand behind ethically? (I am speaking strictly of my own personal ethics here, not the bland ethics of high school politics).
Things eventually came to a head when I was called upon to organize a class dance to raise money. I was enthusiastic about this chore. I felt as if my own tastes and sensitivities were on trial and I was eager to make the event one that would be enjoyed and remembered by all. I quickly ran into trouble. I had located a fantastic venue for what I envisioned as a magical night of music and romance. A local community hall, located some distance from the school campus, featured a breathtaking view from a vantage point above the harbor. At night the lights of the town sparkled magically off the water and the hall was surrounded by a lovely forest. It was perfect and the price was modest, allowing good profits for the class. I was excited to present my plans to all who would be involved.
When I did, I was shocked to find that the school administration vetoed my decision on the grounds that the dance needed to be held at the school campus – the lunch room cafeteria. This was not romantic, not magical, not a decision I wanted associated with my presidency. I protested the principal’s decision, but to no avail. Frustrated after all the ground work that I had already laid, I reasoned that if I were the person doing all the organizational work, in order to raise money for school, I should very well be allowed to do it as I best saw fit. Off campus dances were not an anomaly and were frequently held, but in this case, for no apparent reason the decision was that this dance needed to be held at the school, in the uninspiring cafeteria.
I chose a decidedly hard line approach. If I were not to be allowed free reign to create the event as I chose to, the school could make their own decisions, and I would sponsor my own dance, using my own front money to create an event that would bring the maximum satisfaction and enjoyment to my attending clientele. At first, the school shrugged me off, but as the weeks went by, and it became clear that almost everyone in the school was excited about my dance plans, the school administration decided to stage their own event in an attempt to thwart my private dance. But, it appeared that the dance, that the school planned, was going to be a complete failure.
My vision of the magical evening, proved popular, as did my selection of a band. On the big night, a splendid time was had by all, the lights on the water were beautiful, and I walked away with several hundred dollars. Meanwhile there was no joy in the school cafeteria that same night . In retrospect, I regret that I didn’t take the higher path and give my profits to the school, but after all, I had taken the financial risk, and I was a rebel out to make a point.----------------------
Read Tom's entire piece on his website.
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