The club achieved six of the 10 Distinguished Club Program goals during each of my two terms. The club’s members earned an advanced communicator award and two leadership awards, and the club recruited 15 new members, met its officer training goal three out of four times, and submitted two officer lists and four membership dues renewal reports on time.
During my two terms, the club’s membership grew by 18 percent, and the club’s treasury grew nine percent, even as we adopted a 40% reduction in club dues. Also, we launched a website, a Facebook page, and a blog as part of an ambitious project to harness the power of information technology in expanding the club’s reach beyond its members.
We did well.
I will be the first to admit that I like the pomp and circumstance of leadership. I think that being the president (of anything) means something. (For the record, I thought that before I ever became president). This has led me down some amusing paths, when I attempted to run the club as if it were Congress. My members, however, are good sports, and bear with me.
Yesterday, I officially became a lame duck, when my vice president for education was chosen to succeed me on July 1. To mark the occasion, I delivered a speech. The speech I chose was project five from the Advanced Communication Series manual Special Occasion Speeches, “Accepting an Award.” Because there was no award for me to accept, I chose to thank my club for giving me a very valuable gift: the opportunity to grow and develop as a communicator and leader.
I like to think that my speaking style is characterized by… gravitas. Accordingly, I don’t often get emotional at the lectern. As I gave this speech, however, I talked about all the times that the members probably thought I was going overboard with the pomp and circumstance I love so much—and I explained that I act big because I believe we can be big, and that if I’m not going to do something well, I may as well not do it all. I concluded by thanking the members for everything they did, no matter how trivial, because their contributions were essential to our success, and my own growth as a communicator and leader.
It was at that point that I became a little emotional. Looking at my audience, it looked like they might have gotten a little emotional, too, because when I walked away from the lectern, I received the honor of a standing ovation—the only standing ovation ever given in the history of our club. (I was fairly touched by their gesture).
Later that evening, I received a Facebook message from one of my members, saying how moving my speech was, and thanking me for giving it. There was one line in that message, however, that moved me.
“I was… reminded that it takes courage to seek excellence.”
Are you seeking excellence? As you do your job, help raise a family, mentor a new coworker, support a friend in need, or carry out whatever tasks may be on your agenda, are you doing your best and giving your all?
That one line crystallized a lesson that I believe I have learned during my tenure as a club president. So many times, we do only as much as we must, and never as much as we can. What makes this doubly regrettable is that so much of our hesitation isn’t because we want to avoid the work, but because we want to avoid the judgment of our peers.
We live in a world in which overachieving still carries a stigma. But I ask you, why do we fear success? Is it possible to achieve too much? Is it conceivable to succeed too well?
I don’t believe that I am an overachiever. If anything, I’m an underachiever. But I do believe in setting big goals, hoping big hopes, dreaming big dreams, and then believing that I, and the people who support me, have what it takes to accomplish whatever it is that we set out to do. That’s not “overachieving.” That’s just “achieving.”
If you’re going to do something, do it well. If you’re going to organize the church picnic, visualize it as a church banquet. If you’re going to give a presentation about a new project at your company, look at it as the State of the Union. Don’t pretend to be somebody you aren’t. But don’t fear becoming somebody you are.
The most important leadership lesson I learned is one I didn’t know I was learning, until somebody explained it for me.
It takes courage to seek excellence.
My hope for you is that you’ll find the courage to seek excellence, as well. Look for it in everything that you do, but mostly, look for it inside yourself. We each already have what it takes to become more articulate communicators and more dynamic leaders. Embrace your potential. Discover the speaker and leader within. Most importantly, live up to your potential without hesitation, without embarrassment, and without regret.
And now (of course), I remind you that our organization can help you. Go to http://reports.toastmasters.org/findaclub/ and begin your own search for excellence at a Toastmasters meeting near you. Or, if you’re in the Greater Beckley area, come to the Region 1 WORKFORCE West Virginia career center on the 2nd and 4th Mondays of each month, at 6:00 pm, and we’ll point you in the right direction.
The journey begins within.
Let’s take the first step together.
Joseph L. Chambers, CC, ALB
Area 63 Governor, TI District 40
President, Toastmasters Beckley
Area 63 Governor, TI District 40
President, Toastmasters Beckley