When the Queen Made Me Legendary

I grew up in a time when the British Empire still had some grandeur. May 24 was still “The Queen’s Birthday” and was joyously celebrated as such. It was always a matter of pride to point out, especially to visiting Americans, that nearly a quarter of the globe was Britannic red. Every civic office and every classroom had a prominent picture of the Queen. It was a really big deal.

Each morning in our little one room school in God-fearing Ontario farm country, we stood proudly in front of Her Majesty’s picture and saluted the Union Jack, reciting, “I pledge allegiance to this flag, and to the Queen and Empire for which it stands.” And then we sang “God Save the Queen”.

It was more or less this way when, as a terrified seventeen year old school teacher I stood at the front of my very first class. There, above the chalkboard was Her Majesty’s somber black and white image, there with scepter in hand, a symbol of all that was good and great. And that very portrait came to the aid of this young and naive teacher in a very practical way because it gave me magical powers.

You see, the portrait, with its crystal glass covering a dark and somber subject, was tilted at just the right angle above the chalkboard to act perfectly as a rear-view mirror in which to see what every little hellion was doing behind my back. Writing on the board and without pausing or turning, I could intone, “Jimmy, put that frog back in your pocket and leave Debbie alone!”

Jimmy, frog in hand, stopped in his tracks, gob-struck. Silence would fall over the class as the students quickly got back to their proper business.

The word spread: “Bowley has eyes in the back of his head!” Classroom management became so much easier, after which most of the other mechanics of teaching fell into place. It’s kind of cool to be legendary.

The story is true, but it has more value than just entertainment. It can teach a point.

You see, all of us get these little, magical, lucky breaks, which can be transformative if properly exploited. They don’t come around often, so they should never be ignored.

And there is, perhaps, another point. Bringing magic and imagination into the lives of our children, our colleagues, and our employees not only gives them lightness and laughter in place of drudgery, but helps them see questions and problems as opportunities, not burdens.

And that’s part of the magic of leadership.