The Man He is Becoming

      My son, Michael, is fifteen years old  and occupies the center snare position on the drumline  in his marching band at Union High School in Tulsa OK. Michael's first year on the drumline was  typical; It can be a constant struggle to fit in, learn the music, learn how to march while playing, etc. Michael set out on proving himself; he was always the first to arrive and the last to leave at every event. He practiced day and night, living, talking, and breathing drumming and he remembered to laugh at himself when being teased. The older drumline students started to respect his ethics and dedication and appreciate his being able to roll with the punches.

     It came as no surprise to me that he was given the prestigious center snare position. Although I am very proud of that, I am grateful most of all because he tries very hard to be fair, consistent, and honest in all of his dealings with the other snare members. To be on center snare means that Michael is considered the "section leader," and he is responsible for keeping the other drummers in his section aligned with the music, as well as band ethics observed by all the members. It has always been a custom that when someone is late or makes an error in their execution on the field, he or she is required to do push ups or run laps.

     Michael began to notice that every time he had to give out this kind of punishment, it seemed to drive a wedge further between him and the rest of his team. To him, it was always a struggle to get the other members to take laps or do push ups without feeling a sense of responsibility for their being in that situation to begin with.

      He started asking me a lot of questions about different ways to present this kind of punishment. During one of those conversations, I asked him, "Do you feel responsible for them when they mess up?" His answer was, "Absolutely, I'm the leader, the leader is always responsible." I told him that he had his answer, and he needed to remember it when he was talking to his team.

       Not long after that, I came home from work very late one night. Michael was in bed, but my oldest son, Joe, was awake and came downstairs to talk to me. He said that his little brother was "Hard-core cool as a section leader." I asked him what he meant; he related a story that Michael had shared with him about the day's events. It seemed that one of the team members was late arriving for practice. Everyone was waiting for the, "You were late, so you run laps," command. Instead, Michael took off his drum and said "Listen, guys, we are a team and I am the team leader. When you mess up, you always have to run laps or do push ups; but from now on, I am going to run the laps and do the push ups with you." He ran the laps with the team member who was late and the rest of the practice happened without any further issues.
 When I finished visiting with Joe, we both said goodnight and I went upstairs to Michael's room. I sat on his bed next to him and waited for him to wake up. When he did, I told him that his brother had just given me the play-by-play of the day's events. He asked, "Dad, was that the right thing to do?" Holding back tears of pride, I just looked at him, and the only thing I could think to say was this: "Mike, you have been struggling with how to be in charge of the drumline since you made center snare; but today, you finally became a LEADER." I went to bed, and when I turned off the light, I realized how proud I was of the man he is becoming.
As the summer went on, the other guys on the line started to feel bad when they were late becasue it was not just them running now. Slowly the tardiness stopped and respect from the other team members began to grow. Now Michael is naturally acknowledged as a leader and his advise musically and otherwise is sought out.
    "Leadership does not care how old you are or what your title is. Anyone who has vision and strength of character can do Great Things."
                                                           Carl Frost