Celebrating Losing in an Everyone Gets a Trophy World

My husband and I have something in common with the Obamas this year, we have a senior ready to graduate high school. Amid the emotions, the college acceptances, prom dresses, stress and tears come the ubiquitous awards nights. Last Friday, we attended the annual JROTC awards banquet for my daughter's school. It was our fifth time attending, having seen two of our three girls through the program. We were proud of our daughters for they had both risen far up the chain of command in what had become our family's favorite high school enrichment activity. In fact, this year our daughter had achieved the role of Group Commander. With that honor came the expectation of awards and recognitions, medals and ribbons. There was one particular award that my daughter had her eye on, the coveted Commandant's Award. The award was the top prize for the year, a glistening eagle statue. My daughter had dreamed of this, planned for it. We would trade jokes back and forth about finding the perfect spot for the eagle in our home: on a pedestal, under a gleaming spotlight, we would stare at it instead of watching TV. She spent four years in the program working towards this night so she could claim her hard earned prize. She wanted that eagle and it was the driving force behind her success in the program.

The banquet was enjoyable and emotional. My daughter was called up for award after award, but you could see the stress on her face as she waited for that final name to be called for that honor she had dreamt of for those four years. The moment finally came. The top instructor spoke of the process for handing out the award, and he began describing the recipient. Emily told me her heart sank when Colonel referred to the recipient as "he". It was not hers to win. But as the instructor announced the name of the winner, my daughter's face spread into one of the brightest smiles I had ever witnessed. She stated, "I did not win but the perfect person did."

In the past, the award had always been granted to one of the top leaders of the unit, but not this time. The instructors had selected a young man who worked daily behind the scenes, helping the instructors in the office and working in the student run unit store. This young man's recognition signified everything that we loved about the JROTC program, that the program operated as a unit with no member more important than anyone else. The team worked together, and this young man was as vital of a part of that whole as the kids who had risen to top command positions. His quiet, hard work had paid off in ways that I doubt he imagined it ever would , and I hope it was an experience he will never forget. I was told he teared up when his name was called.

Surprisingly, ROTC in high school is not as rigid as one would think. The beauty of the JROTC program is that it is not one size fits all. It offers something for almost everyone by meeting the students where they are instead of expecting rote allegiance to a common form. For my daughter, that meant an opportunity to hone her leadership skills. For others, it is a much needed exercise in behavior. And for some, it offers a place to grow and a place to belong. For the young man who won the Commandant's Award, the ROTC room became that, a place to belong and a place to shine.

I hope they went home and just stared at that eagle.