We, the Leaders by Skye

We, the Leaders by Skye - December 2021 Scholarship Essay

Everywhere we look, we see leaders.

The oldest kid on the block, who picks all the games to play. The boldest raccoon, who gets the first bite of two-week-old pizza because it was the one who learned to pry the green dumpster open. The bird at the tip of the V of migrating geese, honking across the sky. The first leaf to let go of its lifelong home and fall, bringing with it all of autumn.

We see people on TV, brought back to playground brawls in all but body by differences of opinion, who proclaim themselves leaders. We look to people in charge; we name them 'President' and 'Principal' and call them 'Sir' or 'Ma'am.' We listen to our parents, we listen to our teachers, we listen to our elders, and we say to ourselves "there must be a reason that person is in charge' when they are cruel or incorrect."

"There must be a reason," we say, "that they are called our 'betters.'"

We learn, though, as part of growing up, that there is no reason. It is circumstance and fate and an accident of the Universe that lands these people where they are. It is circumstance and fate and an accident of the Universe that has lent them command.

(And, truly, that command is a loan, for it is as temporary as any other thing.)

'My mother is no better than I,' is one of the first lessons of growing up. This can be learned in many ways; perhaps she was always honest about her humanity, and you are simply understanding that for the first time; perhaps she spent the last years lying to you and it is a slow, soft realization that things were not what you thought; perhaps you learn when she hits you and you realize that you were taught never to strike in anger and that she should not be exempt from her own rules - it is different for every one of us.

What is not different is that you now see her. Perhaps the picture is just as lovely as before, but it no longer has that saintly gilding of childhood. Perhaps it has grown darker, like old varnish, or perhaps, as though someone has taken a razor and slashed through the canvas of your mind, it is twisted and warped into something unrecognizable and in desperate need of repair.

Then, you look down at your own hands, expecting to find them equally warped, because surely you must have shattered the way the rest of the world has, and yet, they are the same, no matter how you turn them.

Those hands you see? Those are the hands of a leader.

For you are a leader, whether you realize it or not. Each footstep you take leads to the next, and you walk and walk until your path runs out and you must cut through the brush ahead of you. Some of us bring great blades, others a small knife, still more use their bare hands, but together, we all tread new ground.

The quality that best describes a leader is that bravery to forge ahead, to keep going. It is not easy to take the road less traveled, but all of us do, in one way or another. We may all stand on the shoulders of giants, and some of those shoulders are taller than others, but we still breathe new air when we turn our heads to the sunrise.