Remember Jr. High? It’s not “easy” being thirteen…“less easy” when you are the awkward smart kid picked last in gym class… “dang right difficult” when you transfer from the parochial school to the cross-town rival public school. “Verge of insanity” when you sign up to join a club made up of your old classmates the very next week.

It was fall of 1976. My cousins just moved to town and I wanted to switch to the public school so we could be classmates. I begged. I debated. I fake cried! I got my wish.

But I paid a price.

Our local Knights of Columbus sponsored a youth group called the Columbian Squires. I call it "Boy Scouts for Catholic kids." Meetings were held every Tuesday night, and I remember driving to the KC Hall with my Dad to my first meeting. He went upstairs for his meeting and I went downstairs for my…horror! When I got in the room, I wasn’t exactly prepared for my reception. The room was filled with all my old classmates from the catholic elementary school. Sparing you the details, it wasn’t pretty. I was humiliated. They called me names, names that wouldn’t get through your spam filter. I got mocked. I got punched. And I admit…I got a wedgie. Then, well…it got worse.

To become a member, you had to be voted in. Now realize, the vote was only a formality. Nobody was ever turned away. Never. Not a one. Until that night. The gavel sounded, the prayers were said, and candidates were presented for membership. Each 7th grader said who they were and why they wanted to join and were led out of the room. We waited nervously in the dark hall. The door cracked, light slipped through, and I remember the look on the president’s face. He was 6 years older than I, homecoming king type and reigning Boys State Governor. I wanted to be like him. He waved the handful of other kids in, looked at me painfully, shook his head, and walked away…

I was the first person ever NOT allowed to join.

I was horrified. What would I say to my parents? What would the kids say at school?
Would I ever live this down? How would I survive this?

My dad’s meeting went very long. And the meeting for me was, well, short. Very short. I lived in the country, so I had to wait for my ride home. Odd thing, waiting in a room with people who don’t want you in their club. If time is relative, that night took years.

I couldn’t take it. I waited in the alley. Finally, people started leaving and I bolted for the truck. Talking with my Dad, I just couldn’t tell him I didn’t get in. I lied about the meeting. Unfortunately, that created a problem for the next week. My dad drove me to the meeting again. I said nothing. I hid in the alley. For several weeks. Shamed.
Inadequate. Alone.

During those weeks, several members caught glimpses of me. They wondered what I was doing there, made some cutting comments, and then passed. As the weeks progressed, it got colder. Very cold. Finally, one of the older members figured it out. He got the group advisor, pulled me aside, and confronted me. They brought me in,which I welcomed given how cold I was. I told the truth and they told me to wait in the hall.

I don’t really know what happened exactly then. Most likely, the story was told and an adult advisor read the group the riot act. They had an election. Probably needed a second. Maybe even some Florida ballot counters the way things were going. Eventually that night, I was invited to join. But it wasn’t pretty. If I had problems before with this group, they didn’t resolve themselves because I had a membership card. Trust me.

Joining the club was one of the most stressful, humiliating experiences of my life. It also was one of the most important. It changed my life. Before that night, I was the chubby kid, the awkward kid, the poor kid, the pimply kid, and the brainiac-picked-last kid all rolled into one.

But things changed that night. Soon I was given a job. The organization needed a camera. Nobody wanted to do the work and making fun of me, they said I should have to do it. The older officer looked at me, said I would make a great Camera Chairman and asked if I would be willing to do it. My chance had come.

I researched. I went to all the stores. I cut ads from the Sunday paper. I interviewed the clerks at the local stores. I organized my thoughts, posted them on a board and presented them at the next meeting. The membership was stunned. The outcast did something!

Weeks later, I was nominated for secretary, another job nobody wanted. I won and I decided I would do it better than anyone ever had. I created a membership project out of my pain of having been rejected. It was inclusive, extensive and well executed. I even got on TV! One of my very first leadership projects, it eventually won the Brother Barnabas award for top 25 projects nationally out of over 25,000 submitted. Over the next six years, I became treasurer, vice president, president, State Treasurer, State Vice President, until I ended up winning both the State Member of the Year and State President two years in a row.

I continued to run for office and got my share of humility. I remember losing the elections for Class President (4 times!), Student Council President, National Honor Society State President, State Student Council President and Boys State Governor, many within months of each other. But I learned my lessons and won a few things that would never have happened had I hadn’t kept showing up. With every loss was a lesson and having lost more than anyone, I learned to win. Soon I was recognized for being State Outstanding High School Leader, Century III Leader of the Year, National Elks Student of the Year, University Interfraternity Council President, Campus Greek Man of the Year, Outstanding Campus Leader of the Year, and National Business Case Study Finalist all while receiving 19 LEADERSHIP scholarships. What looked like the end of the world served as the catalyst for my livelihood, generating the desire and effort that has allowed me to share my ideas on leadership in 38 states to dozens of Fortune 500 companies, generating over $5 million in speaking fees. And counting?

I won’t lie. It hurt. Heck, it hurts now. Writing and revealing relives the moment as if it’s happening as we speak. But imagine had I never originally applied? Or stopped showing up! Or hadn’t accepted the jobs no one wanted? Or hadn’t filled out the applications? Hadn’t risked losing? Think about it….my life was changed by REJECTION, constant ACTIVITY and a DECISION to do the best job I could in buying a CAMERA for people who made fun of me.

Anybody wondering what it’s costing you to be safe? To not risk being rejected? To not be humiliated? What if it were literally…millions?

Nothing worth doing is safe at first. Nothing can keep you down forever. Most will find the greatest growth they ever experience comes from those moments that seem the darkest. This week, be unreasonable. Ask for what you want, early and often. Don’t let them say they’ll think about it or disappear on you. Go for “NO” and be willing to be rejected. Rejection isn’t final or forever. I was lucky. I found out early, that if I want it bad enough, rejection is the master motivator that makes my heart grow fonder.

May you get repeatedly kicked to the curb this week on your way to the bank. :)

I’m Tom Schaff and that’s a look at my salesPERSON’s Soul.

Questions to Consider:

1. What rejection in your life to date hurt the most?

2. What did you learn from it?

3. What could you have learned from it?

4. Where have you regretted not taking the risk of failure, rejection and playing full out?

5. Having read this story, what would you do right now if you knew you could not fail?

6. What will it cost you if you never try?

7. What risk, request, bold action will you undertake TODAY that will change the course of history for you and your family?

Good Selling

Tom Schaff

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or call us at 312-238-9460.

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