Eighth grade wasn’t the first time I had been kicked out of class… nor would it be my last. While many of my trips to the principal’s office were well deserved, this one (in my opinion) wasn’t. That said, I’m glad it happened. Like many things in life, it was a blessing in disguise.

It started when we were asked to pick a student from the class ahead of us that we admired. Someone we considered to be a positive role model that we could emulate… a mentor of sorts.

I didn’t know at the time, but the word “Mentor” comes from Greek mythology. When Odysseus left for the Trojan War, he put his friend Mentor in charge of his palace and his son, Telemachus. These days “mentor” typically refers to a trusted counselor or teacher… an experienced person who provides guidance.

Back to the assignment… my classmates had little trouble picking a mentor. Most chose the likely suspects… popular kids, cheerleaders, athletes, members of student council, and so on.

Before long, everyone but me had made their decision. Unable to think of a single person I wanted to emulate, I raised my hand. “What happens if you can’t think of a mentor?” My simple question created quite a stir.

“Mr. McMillan, I’m certain if you try… and think… you can come up with one,” my teacher responded.

The following day, as my classmates worked on the project, my teacher approached my desk and asked, “Who’s your mentor?”

“I don’t have one yet.”

“Do you think this is a joke?”

“No.”

“Then pick a mentor right now and get to work.”

“Isn’t everyone a mentor?” I asked.

“Don’t push your luck… if you don’t do the assignment, you’ll receive an F!”

On day three, as my peers outlined how they were going to emulate their mentors, I was still thinking about who mine might be.

“Mr. McMillan… who’s your mentor? And don’t tell me you’re still thinking.”

“Pat Holden,” I announced.

With this answer, the class broke into hysterical laughter and my teacher walked over, pulled me from my desk, and marched me to the principal’s office. On the way there, I tried to explain my choice but couldn’t get a word in edgewise. You see, Pat wasn’t a popular kid. In fact, he was a special needs student and many people made fun of him. I wasn’t one of those people.

After my teacher explained the situation to the principal, he made it clear that I was not welcome back in his classroom. After he left, the principal asked me about my choice.

“I picked Pat because he is always nice to people—everyone—even to those that make fun of him. In spite of his challenges, he always does his best and never gives up.”

Since the principal remained silent, I continued, “And it’s not because I didn’t try or think… I did both and that’s when I realized that everyone is a mentor. I’ve learned as much from people I don’t want to emulate as those I do… I see every person as a mentor. But I also knew I needed to pick one person for the assignment. So rather than picking an obvious person, I picked Pat… and I don’t regret it. If more people were like him in this school… no, this world would be a better place. Pat is a great mentor… he sets examples for everyone to emulate.”

My principal didn’t know what to say. I’m certain he had planned to punish me until he realized my sincerity and heard my side of the story. To his credit, he listened and reflected on my words… and because he did, he had a dilemma. The semester was nearly over and he couldn’t send me back to class. Nor did he want me sitting in his office every day. He left for several minutes and then returned with his solution, “Michael, you’re going to finish the semester in the library… with Miss Martin.”

Miss Martin was an elderly woman who never married. In her younger days, she had taught elementary classes but as she neared retirement, she became our school librarian. As a kid, I thought she looked mean in her cat-eye glasses and slight mustache. In addition, she was very quiet and made little eye contact… put all these things together and it seemed somewhat scary. To the best of my recollection, nobody really knew what to make of her. She wasn’t popular. Nor was she controversial… she was just an elderly librarian waiting to retire. In fact, outside of a library-related question, I don’t recall seeing anyone ever talk to her.

On my first day with Miss Martin, I sat in the back of the library near the window and sketched in a notebook that someone had left behind. Other than saying hello to each other, we didn’t speak a word.

The second day, I slept.

The third day, I was staring out the window when I suddenly realized Miss Martin was standing next to me. As I broke from my spell, she said in a quiet voice, “Excuse me, Michael… how are you today?”

“Fine, thank you.”

She smiled a sincere smile and made direct eye contact. Then she continued in an almost shy manner, “Since you have another hour here and you’re surrounded by all these books, would you like to read something?”

“Um… I guess,” I answered, not knowing what else to say.

“Well, what topics interest you?”

“I’m not really sure… actually I’m interested in a lot of things.”

And so it began. Before long she was showing me around the library, sharing some of her favorite sections, books… and personal stories. The sting of being kicked out of class had disappeared… it had been replaced by something better. Far from a punishment, I actually looked forward to going to the library and spending time with Miss Martin.

She wasn’t mean, ugly or scary at all—in fact, she was beautiful. Mostly she confirmed what I already knew… everyone is a mentor. She and Pat just happened to be great ones. I can’t say for certain, but I believe Odysseus would agree. In the end… right, wrong or indifferent… we are all mentors and mentees.

As we worked together, one thing became clear to me—what the Blue Angels consider “normal” teamwork is probably outside most people’s scope. To say it’s above average seems understated; better put, it’s abnormal… well outside the teamwork bell curve. The challenge: How do you convey this “abnormal” level of teamwork in a book?

My idea… Sigmund Freud believed by studying the abnormal, we could gain a better understanding of the normal. That’s how I approached The Power of Teamwork… perhaps by studying the Blue Angels’ model of teamwork, we could gain a better understanding of “normal” teamwork as it relates to our own lives.

One evening, about a week before the manuscript was to be sent to the publisher, I cleared my head and planned to re-read it from start to finish. In less than 25 pages, my brain started racing and I felt my heart sinking into my stomach… then I stopped reading.

Somehow, quite unintentionally, Scott and I had managed to transform our groundbreaking Blue Angels content into what sounded like the same old teamwork rhetoric. You know… the stuff we’ve all heard before… (think high school sports). How could this have happened? It didn’t make sense. We had been so focused on creating fresh, new, original content.

One thing was for certain… neither of us was interested in creating another recycled book on teamwork. Before I could finish dialing Scott’s number to inform him of my observation, another thought struck me. I hung up the phone and reflected on the day we met. What had impressed me about Scott during our first meeting was his demeanor. His words were direct, straightforward and honest… too often a rarity in today’s world. Suddenly it all started making sense.

Working with Scott affirmed what I’ve always known—the dictionary doesn’t define words—people do. Words are symbols. We each create the meaning they carry. Words mean different things to different people at different times and places. Words vary in degree, too. Some people have great credibility—others have very little. This point is critically important. People can use the exact same words—yet they can mean something totally different… that’s what was happening in our book. Words like trust, respect, integrity and accountability are value words… and we each give them their value. The weight these words carry for the Blue Angels is difficult for most of us to grasp.

Take the word trust, for instance. Trusting someone on your team to deliver a package on time, score a goal, or deliver a sales pitch, all represent a certain level of trust. Trusting someone to fly directly at you, and pass within inches of your aircraft at a combined speed of 1,000 miles per hour, represents yet another degree of trust. Imagine the trust a Blue Angels pilot must have for his fellow teammates… the mechanic who works on his plane… the techs who inspect his gauges… literally, everyone on the team. This degree of “trust” takes the word to a different level… to an abnormal degree.

It’s easy to spell and pronounce a word the same as someone else… but creating its meaning is another thing all together. I learned many things working on this book. I learned the same word can vary greatly in its meanings… and it’s our actions that define them.

I also learned… performance teams and healthy relationships share a common bond… their definitions align. Think about the team(s) you’re on… with your peers at work, in your relationships, and with your spouse and family. Do your definitions align? How do you define trust? In the end, we each define our words… what meaning do your words carry?

Buddha’s words seem more pertinent than ever today. Maybe time is the truest test of wisdom?

Back in high school, a friend of mine from a neighboring town was arrested for smoking pot. The following day I nervously stopped by his house, uncertain of what to expect. His mom, whom I knew well and respected greatly, answered the door. She was clearly (and understandably) shaken up by the event. At some point, my buddy, his mom and I ended up at the kitchen table talking about what happened… and more importantly, what my buddy’s future held.

I will never forget that discussion, mostly because of the way his mom reacted to the problem at hand. She seemed less concerned about him getting caught, or even smoking pot—than the fact it wasn’t his idea to smoke it. Unlike most parents who would have been screaming about the dangers of drugs, how marijuana was an illegal gateway drug, how this would hurt the family’s reputation, and so on… she mentioned none of these things. At first I thought I must be missing her point. But as the conversation continued, she made it perfectly clear—I wasn’t.

To her way of thinking, not being a leader was bad… but not thinking the situation through and caving in to peer pressure… that was unacceptable. In fact, she considered these issues a bigger crime than the one he had been caught committing. She said, “Sheep follow blindly… individuals think and then take appropriate action, regardless of what others say or believe!” She explained that not thinking independently and taking personal responsibility was a serious character flaw. And when people don’t think for themselves, it becomes dangerous—not only for them but for those around them. Her insight and wisdom that day had a great impact on me—and her son, too. She made his problem a learning experience.

Today when I see adults blindly follow rhetoric or chanting group-speak, I see more than sheep—I see danger. As an American, I defend everyone’s freedom of speech and expression—especially those with whom I vehemently disagree. As an individual, I cherish the freedom and power of independent thought. As a truth seeker, I listen to many points of view and then spend time in personal contemplation.

Whether it’s politics, religion, business, healthcare reform, corporate bailouts, drugs… or anything else… when we blindly go along with the crowd, we lose our true independence and freedom. Without taking personal responsibility and seeking the truth, we are no different than my buddy was back in high school. Actually, we’re much worse… we’re old enough to know better.