“A
winner is a dreamer who never gives up.”
Nelson
Mandela
By
Tommie Saylor
Kennedy
High School Principal
It
is dark, so dark that I can barely make out the shadow of shapes that surround
me, as the bitter cold air bites at my exposed skin causing it to become icy
numb. Wrapped in layers of cotton and cloth, and seeing my breath freeze
in vaporous clouds before me, I vigilantly stand watch while Mother Nature
pours her crystalline snowflakes over me as if I was standing at the edge of a
waterfall.
Slowly,
and with the slightest of margins, the day breaks revealing slivers of the
forest of which I sit so patiently awaiting my prize. Just as the first
rays of light begin to cut through the forest revealing the majesty of God’s
creation, I hear the crunch thud of a heavy hoof. It is not the rapid
scurrying of a squirrel, the flutter of a bird or the inconsistent plop of a
rabbit.
It
is the most recognizable crunch thud of a much larger critter, the approach of
a deer. I twist, and slowly turn straining my eyes searching for the
beast, when through its movement I spot my prey.
A large,
brown, beautiful animal cautiously swaying through the forest tilting its head
this way and that way looking for danger. He does not see me. I
become nervous, my heart pounds, though it is well below freezing I begin to
sweat, my hands shake not in fear but in quiet exhilaration, my mind screams at
me as I hear my father’s and grandfather’s voice giving me advice, telling me what
to do.
Slowly,
without taking my eyes off the majestic beast, I bring my weapon to bear, aim
with the precision of thousands of practiced shots, and squeeze the trigger.
The
hunt has just begun, as dawn is near at hand;
I
feel the stag a coming, floating across the land.
I
wait in nervous torture, my heart begins to pound;
Blood-lust
fuels my temper, the stag I’m here to hound.
I
see the beast a moving, my weapon I raise to sight;
I
squeeze the trigger slowly, the gun screams out its might.
My
soul cries out in vengeance, the stag gets hit by lead;
My
eyes begin to water, the beast is lying dead….
For
as long as I can remember, from a very young age, I dreamed of being able to go
on a hunting trip with my father and perhaps, God willing, my sons.
In
the last couple of years this dream has come true, as my father, my sons, my
nephew and I have made it a tradition of gathering at my father’s cabin during
hunting season for camaraderie, fellowship, and hunting. For the most
part, I don’t even care if I am able to harvest a deer, though I am filled with
joy and pride when one of my son’s do.
For
me, it is all about just being able to be together, spending time with “the
guys”, being able to see my boys enjoying my father’s company, not having to
worry about work, not feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders, it’s all
about worry free time with those you love.
Dreams
can come true, but they must be prodded along with lots of hard work, blood,
sweat, and often tears; and with an unyielding strength, a sense of vigilance
almost to the point of fanaticism. We need to teach our students that
things just don’t happen in life because you are lucky, because you simply want
them, that their goals and dreams must be pursued, fought for, and chased with
diligence. If not anything else, the one most important thing that our
students need to know upon graduation, is that hard work pays off, that no one
makes it very far in life without working hard, and that not all your efforts
will bear fruit.
If
you want a dream to come true, make it a priority, pursue it relentlessly through,
past, around, and over any obstacles, and never give up.
Until
you quit, you have not failed.
What
starts here, changes the world. Making Kennedy the school of choice. Excellence
by design.
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