Memoir of a Motivational Speaker (Aged 14 ½)

The day our school almost burned down will stay in a lot of people’s memories for a very long time to come.

The cause of the fire stemmed from the best of intentions, was totally accidental, and the way I look back on it, provided a great opportunity for personal reflection. It was also the catalyst for this vlog you are now watching.

It was my last day at middle school, the eve of the long summer break, and as happened every year, the school governors set a challenge to inspire and motivate pupils throughout the lazy weeks ahead. The school motto, 'Don't go through life, grow through life', in my opinion, hid their underlying belief that the devil makes work for idle hands and so we all needed to be kept good and occupied.

The challenges are hugely competitive, and there are prizes, all with an educational focus, of course. Competition winners have their name inscribed on a board in the school entranceway and a photograph taken of them holding the winner's trophy. Parents have been known to come to the school and have a photograph taken standing next to the photograph of their successful offspring, because to them, it isn't about the prize. It's the kudos.

My parents wouldn't be into that kind of reflected glory. Not that I ever won anything anyway, or even came close, which was why I was hell-bent on ensuring my little brother, irritating as he can be most of the time, did not go through what I’d suffered every year: the initial excitement, the buzz of ideas, the joy and frustration of the execution of the 'best idea ever in the world that was an absolute sure-fire winner', and then the crushing blow of defeat and hopelessness that comes when the same kid who wins at everything, triumphs yet again. I'd had four years of my self-esteem being trampled in the dust, and there was no way my little bro was going to be put through that same misery and despair in his first year. Which is why I offered to help him. Not help complete the challenge, of course, that was strictly against the rules, but to inspire him!

The theme for the year was: Create a Miniature Garden (bonus prizes for imagination). Josh's confidence was already heading for a notch below zero, so I knew I had some work to do. See my vlog for June, and the below transcript of the session:

‘I can’t do it, Danny. I don’t know how.’

‘No such word as ‘can’t’, Josh. From today on, what we are going to say is—can, will, have.’

‘Can Will have what?’

‘No, I mean, you can, you will, and you have.’

‘Have?’

‘Have, at the end of the day, made the best miniature garden in the competition, dummy. Now, first step. What will make your miniature garden stand out from all the others, hey?’

‘A swing.’

‘Not a swing.’

‘If we had a garden, I’d like a swing more than anything else in the world.’

‘Not. A. Swing. Now, think for a minute. Why don’t we have a garden?’

‘Cos we live in an apartment?’

‘What’s the other reason?’

‘We don’t have money for a garden?’

‘Exactly. Because dad doesn’t compete. He just rolls over and takes what comes. In life, you must compete, Josh. You must win. And that’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to win. Now, what can we, I mean you, do to make sure your garden stands out from everyone else’s?’

‘We can make a garden on the Moon!’

‘Nothing grows on the Moon, Josh. It’s inhospitable.’

‘The hospital’s got a garden! I saw it when I broke my arm. Sick people walk round it, touching the plants and sniffing them, and it makes them smile and feel better. I heard someone say it was a miracle garden cos we live in a desert. Can we make a Miracle Garden, Danny?’

‘Okay, that’s good, Josh. See, you’re halfway to winning already.’

‘I am?’

‘Yes. Because you’ve got a good idea. Every success starts with a good idea. Now, what would you put in your Miracle Garden. And don’t say a swing.’

‘Lots of flowers with hundreds of different colours and smells.’

‘Yes. What else?’

‘Somewhere to sit?’

‘That’s good. Flowers. Somewhere to sit. What else does a garden have?’

‘Paths. And the garden at the hospital has a fountain in a pond with a fish that spits water and people throw money in. Can I have a fountain that spits water, Danny?’

‘Okay, there you go. A Miracle Garden with flowers, a seat, and a fountain in a pond with a fish that spits water.’

‘And sick people getting better! I can do little model people. I can do me with my arm in a sling and then smelling a flower and getting better!’

‘There you go champ, see, like I told you: can, will, have.’

***

I read somewhere that life is 10% what happens to you, and 90% how you react to it. Except what happened next didn’t actually happen to me. So, I had no place reacting.

But I did.

First day of the new semester was Welcome assembly followed by lunch and then a gathering in the school hall for the judging of the Miniature Garden competition. Josh had been super-secretive the whole summer, working away on something in his bedroom. But I never saw it. And he’d put a sign on his bedroom door:

‘Joshs room. Privit. Keep out.’

Josh was a way off winning a spelling bee, for sure, but despite the temptation, I didn’t go in. Motivation, you see, is the art of getting people to do what you want them to do because they want to do it.

But maybe if I had gone in, what happened next wouldn’t have happened.

The others made their way to the dining hall, but I skipped the lunch queue and snuck down to the assembly hall where all the submissions to the Miniature Garden competition were displayed on tables. I wanted to see Josh’s, just to, you know, check. I scanned along the line, looking for the hospital Miracle Garden. There were three. Cutesy little replicas, with a fountain and a fish that spat water. There were picket-fence gardens with vegetable patches. Gardens with arches, arbours and pergolas. There was even one with a unicorn and a waterfall, but there was no sign of …

And then I saw it.

Even if I hadn’t seen his name, I would have known it was his. There were dozens of tiny plants—flowers that had been carefully made in miniature and painted every colour of the rainbow. There were bushy trees made from broccoli, and paths of sand, with pea gravel for steppingstones. But there was no fountain. No fish spitting water. Just a pond surrounded by tiny people walking tinier dogs, or smelling flowers, or sitting on ...

‘Swings!’

And seesaws. And slides. It wasn’t a garden. It was …

‘A 100% loser. They’ll just laugh at you, Josh, and you’ll feel small and stupid and wish the ground would open up and swallow you. And that doesn’t feel good, Josh. That feels, real, real bad.’

I had to stop that happening. And I thought I knew exactly how.

I took the stairs to the science lab two at a time. If I get this right, I thought, I can save the day. I can turn this impending disaster around.

The door to the science lab was open. The cupboard containing what I needed was locked, but I knew where the science master kept the key. In a moment, I was moving jars and containers this way and that as fast as I could. We’d used what I was looking for in experiments in the Spring and it would do the job just perfect. Was it in a bottle with a green label? It wasn’t the one with the black label. That was sulphuric acid. Blue? Think, Danny! Think! Yellow. It was yellow. In a specially ventilated flask.

I was starting to panic, and then:

‘Got it!’

I grabbed the container and a pair of insulated gloves from the store box, then dashed back down to the assembly room. I waited until I heard everyone in the corridor outside and made my move. I timed it to perfection, pouring just enough liquid nitrogen onto Josh’s garden to freeze the pond instantaneously. As the fog of vapour swirled around the tiny trees, I used the gloves to protect my hands while I placed a skating dog walker on the icy pond, grabbed the swings, slides, and seesaws and shoved them in my pocket.

The transformation was magical—a frozen garden in the desert—and to this day I swear it would have been a winner. But just as Josh, and a hoard of pupils and teachers, pushed through the door, there was the scream of a fire alarm, followed by teachers calling loudly for pupils to make an orderly exit through the fire door and to assemble on the sports field for roll call to make sure everyone was safely accounted for.

Outside, I could feel Josh’s eyes boring into me. But I didn’t meet his gaze. And we have never spoken of that day since.

***

I guess you're wondering how it all turned out. Well, Josh is doing okay at school, though he gives me an odd look every time the end of year challenge is mentioned. Reckons he's looking forward to the next one. They never discovered the cause of the fire. They just knew it started in the science lab. Maybe someone knocked something over. Who knows for sure? From my point of view, the key thing to come out of all this is the lesson that was learned: when it comes to success, the end does not justify the means. Winning is important. Crucial, in fact. But how you win? That’s everything.

So, thanks for tuning in to my motivational vlog for today. You’re welcome back any time. If you want to subscribe, that would be great too. We all need to feel supported as we take on the challenges life throws at us. And if you are planning to give a leg up to another soul, just remember the words of the great poet, William Blake: no bird soars too high if it soars on its own wings.