Greetings, Friend!
One year! A year full of Tuesday emails! Well, almost full. I missed ten due to holidays and spending time with my family. “Forty-two Tuesdays”—sounds like a possible book title.
I was thinking lately how much I have sought a “leading role” but more commonly find myself in the “supporting role” category. I know I’ve told you in the past that as a kid, I always wanted to be famous, was always waiting to be “discovered.” (Still waiting, btw.) Listen to what happened to me in the second grade that started this “out-of-the-spotlight” streak.
It was a dark and stormy day in 1967 in Washburn, Wisconsin. My second-grade class was going to put on a play—Cinderella. (I think it was second grade. I think my mom started working at my school as the office secretary when I was in the third grade. That factoid is important for my story.) I don’t remember exactly how the roles were distributed, but guys, I got the part of Cinderella! I remember thinking at the time it was because I had really long hair. Like I could sit on it, it was so long. In my seven-year-old mind, Cinderella needed to have super long hair, and by golly, I fit the bill. This was going to be it. I’d be on a bus to Hollywood before I could say, “I lost my shoe!”
Or so I thought. Somewhere between setting up practices (after school) and not enough busses for all the rural kids at my school, my dreams were dashed upon the rocks. A new bus schedule came out, and I was slated to be on the “early bus.” The early bussers would go out on the first round of drop-offs. That bus would return to the school for the second round of country kids. A new rule was in place for all participants in Cinderella:
No early bussers could have speaking roles.
There it went. My hopes and dreams went right out the early bus window. I might as well get a haircut because what good had it done to grow all that hair just to have my big moment ripped away from me? The role of Cinderella went to a pretty girl in the class named Arlene. She had long hair, too, but not as long as mine. I can’t remember what role, if any, I took on after that. I may have been given the dreaded assignment of “kid in crowd.” Dear God, the shame of it!
If this had happened when my mom worked at school (a mere year later), I could have gotten a ride home with her when she was done with her work day. But no, this happened back in the dark ages when parents didn’t satisfy their children’s every whim. The School of Hard Knocks had a higher enrollment back then.
Now, take also, for instance, singing along with a song on the radio. I also fall into the “not lead singer” role in this situation. I noticed at an early age that I never seemed to sing precisely the notes the singer was singing. (Does that make sense?) I always found the harmony to go with the melody and sang it instead.
Or, I found myself singing the backup singers’ parts. To this day, when I hear familiar songs on the radio, I will more naturally come in on the backup “ooh”s and “yeah-yeah-yeah”s and “oh, baby”s. I’m particularly good at the Pips’ parts on “Midnight Train to Georgia.” Another of my greatest hits is “Brandy (You’re a Fine Girl).” Oh, I’d have loved to have the talent of a “lead singer”—still do, but that hasn’t happened yet, either. Some of us are born to be “Gladys Knight,” and then others of us are born to be a “Pip.” Turns out, I’m a Pip.
Any other Pips out there?
It’s funny because if I ever do find myself in a leadership role, I doubt myself like crazy. I find myself wishing I could take the early bus home.
Imagine, though, if we lived in a world where everyone was a leader. Where everyone was “the star.” It’s just not possible. Not everyone can be #1. We need a lot more #2s out there. (OK, not the gross kind, you know what I mean.) Those of us in the “supportive role” category should not feel “lesser than.”
I think it has taken me a while to figure out that my thing is to be a supporter, an encourager, a #2. Maybe that is what God was getting me ready for when I got assigned to the early bus back in second grade. I have argued with Him for 54 years about why He made me the way He did. Why couldn’t I be more like this person or that one? Why couldn’t I have the gift You gave her? (Ugh, as I write that, it makes me sound like an ungrateful brat. Maybe because I am.)
This past Sunday, my pastor read a passage from Hebrews, and one particular phrase stood out to me: “And let us consider how we may SPUR ONE ANOTHER ON toward love and good deeds . . . “ (Hebrews 10:24)
I love that! “Spur one another on.” I think that is my job rather than being “the lead.”
And I think I’m finally OK with that.
Thanks for hanging out with me this year! I hope you have found some encouragement in these emails. Spurring you on is what I aimed to do and would like to keep on doing.
I’ll be back on September 20 after my trip to Italy.
Ciao!
Scritto con amore – – Patti XOXO💗
