Most Innovative means one advisor to see me through my four years of college, who spoke to me on Skype the summer before my first year, sees me when I’m happy or anxious or frustrated, is my biggest champion and has gently guided me towards understanding myself and my ambitions.

Most Innovative means taking 300-level courses in my first semester of college– and succeeding.

Most Innovative means traveling to Martinique for free, speaking French, and learning about our global society while making lifelong friends.

Most Innovative means proudly developing a website where I can express myself and practice creating digital content that will help me in my future.

Most Innovative means finding paid internships.

Most Innovative means going to Poland and reconnecting with my heritage. It means spending four days in Tel Aviv by myself less than a year later.

Most Innovative means traditions that grow and change with campus culture while still respecting our history.

Most Innovative means changing my major four times.

Most Innovative means excelling in the major I finally settled on and pursuing a future free of fear of failure.

Most Innovative means that all my classes relate to each other, even if they’re in completely different areas of study.

Most Innovative means working with faculty from incredible schools with unbelievable careers.

Most Innovative means honor societies and leadership societies and grad school applications that don’t scare me.

Most Innovative is traveling to Jamaica to do research for my senior seminar.

Most Innovative means Agnes Scott, and I’m so thankful, every day, that I chose to attend this amazing school.

I wasn’t living in New York City. I was visiting my brother for the weekend while interning in Massachusetts. Besides visiting his office at Squarespace and going to Chinatown for dinner, I spent some time doing preliminary research for my senior seminar at the Center for Jewish History.

Thankfully, I had spoken with my assigned librarian about my plans to visit the Center for Jewish History before I went, so I wasn’t completely overwhelmed when I stepped inside and was confronted with stacks upon stacks of resources and books relating to everything and anything about Jews and their history.

I began by requesting five books that seemed relevant to my topic. They were brought to me, and I sat in the reading room, going through chapter after chapter, looking for relevant material to my topic. It was difficult– especially because I’m doing new research and a lot of my work is connecting sources rather than interpreting evidence already registered.

I managed to find some really great sources, including an annotated bibliography that proved to be tremendously helpful. But more so, I saw what my future might be if I pursue history and public history as a profession.

It was so much fun, to do research and read and find sources that might maybe work. It was like a scavenger hunt, but more fun and rewarding. I could so easily see myself, living in New York City, doing research and writing books and producing enjoyable history for the masses.

Each step I take in my senior seminar research, I get closer to writing my 25-page thesis paper. But I also grow closer to finding my future career path, and what history means for me and my future.

The requirements to join Sigma Alpha Iota are simple: one semester in a music ensemble, or a music class credit, and a 2.5 GPA. I met these requirements, I took a test, I memorized the chorale, and I joined a national fraternity. It wasn’t something I expected to do when I entered college, but four years grateful, I’m so glad I did.

Besides meeting new people and making great friends, through SAI, I’ve served my school and community through service in the music department, I’ve grown as a musician, and I’ve grown as a leader. I served as Social Chair in the 2016-2017 school year, then Editor, which included social media management, in the 2017-2018 school year. Now, as a senior, I was elected to serve as the Vice President of Membership, and it is my turn to recruit new members to join the sisterhood I’ve grown to love so nearly and dearly.

SAI has taught me to be better organized, to be more fiscally responsible, to support others wholeheartedly and without jealousy, and to learn to be flexible. SAI is like running a business and managing a family at the same time. It’s challenging, but the results are so, so worth it.

Reflecting on my experience in Sigma Alpha Iota is now necessary, as I attempt to recruit a new class of Roses to join our ranks. It’s hard to put into words the confidence SAI has given me, or the maturity it has instilled in me. It’s even harder to put into words why someone else should take a leap of faith and join our little sisterhood– why the benefits outweigh the cost of membership and that pearl-encrusted pin that I’ve come to treasure.

It’s time for me to organize the information sessions I once attended as a first year. It’s time for me to teach the material I once studied. It’s time for me to guide new members into Sigma Alpha Iota. I’m excited, but nervous– just how I felt when this all began.

My first Black Cat was in Fall 2015, the 100th Black Cat week. On a whim, I ran for Black Cat chair for the class of 2019. My peers elected me to the position, and suddenly, I was faced with the task of collecting materials for Rush the Quad, buying paint and decorations, and organizing a less-than-enthusiastic class into committees and chairs to try and make our first Black Cat a success.

Playing off our comical orientation experience, I chose the theme of Camp and set to work painting, building, decorating, organizing meetings, and attending song and dance rehearsals. I almost didn’t have time to take a breath, step back, and enjoy the fun of Black Cat. Now, after completing my fourth and final Black Cat, I’d like to think I’ve learned a lot from this tradition.

While one might think dressing down and throwing painted trash on the quad takes leadership skills, I believe Black Cat has refined my leadership abilities and shown me skills I never knew I possessed. All while I ran around, screaming cheers about the Sprites (our mascot), I was managing teams, seeking out talented people who were best suited for their positions. I learned to roll with the punches, to check my pride and ambition, to comfort those who needed it and to give younger classes guidance. I’ve raised money and managed budgets. I’ve learned how to use a power drill. I’ve definitely learned time management.

I can take all of the skills I’ve gained during Black Cat week and adapt them to future work in my career. Certainly not the screaming and singing and painting signs with catchy phrases about the 90s, but the time management skills, the committee management, the budgeting and accountability required.

It hasn’t fully sunk in that I’ll never celebrate Black Cat again. I’ll never rush another Quad, sing at Bonfire, cheer at Trivia, party at Party Day, clean up decorations, or watch Junior Production. But in addition to having fun these past four years, I’ve learned something and gained valuable skills. And that’s why I love Black Cat so much, and why I’m so sad this year was my last. 

When I first heard of followership, I immediately rejected the concept. My parents have told me, since birth, that I was a leader. It almost became an excuse for why the other kids didn’t like me or why the other girls my age bullied me: Zoe, you’re just a leader. Not a follower.

In the words of my parents, followers are people who go with the pack. The people who take drugs and succumb to peer pressure. Followers are the answer to the question if so and so jumped off a bridge, would you jump off a bridge too? 

However, as I read the article in the Ivey Business Journal, I concluded that Followership is not behind or beneath leadership. I believe it is leadership adjacent. As I read further, I recognized myself in the characteristics listed.

McCallum outlined eight qualities of a good follower, and begrudgingly, I acknowledged that I possessed some of those characteristics.

Judgement.  Followers must take direction but they have an underlying obligation to the enterprise to do so only when the direction is ethical and proper.  The key is having the judgement to know the difference between a directive that your leader gives on how to proceed that you do not agree with and a directive that is truly wrong.

As I previously mentioned, my parents stressed good judgment from a young age. We were given the freedom to make our own decisions, but they tried to teach us right and wrong. I believe I have good judgment and a moral code to which I adhere.

Work ethic.  Good followers are good workers.  They are diligent, motivated, committed, pay attention to detail and make the effort.  Leaders have a responsibility to create an environment that permits these qualities but regardless, it is the responsibility of the follower to be a good worker.  There is no such thing as a bad worker who is a good follower.

I work hard, and I do excellent work. I strive to do my best on the smallest of tasks, and I never intentionally do less than my best on a project.

Competence.  The follower cannot follow properly unless competent at the task that is directed by the leader.  It is the obligation of the leader to assure that followers are competent.  Sometimes things go wrong because the follower is not competent at the task at hand.  When this happens, leaders should blame themselves, not the follower.  A sign of poor leadership is blaming followers for not having skills they do not have.

As my mother says, my core competency is competency. I am very vocal that I am the wrong person for a task if I am not competent at it. If I am adhering to the principles of Followership, then I am only making it easier for a leader to find a task that I am competent in.

Honesty.  The follower owes the leader an honest and forthright assessment of what the leader is trying to achieve and how.  This is especially the case when the follower feels the leader’s agenda is seriously flawed.  Respect and politeness are important but that said, it is not acceptable for followers to sit on their hands while an inept leader drives the proverbial bus over the cliff.  Good leaders are grateful for constructive feedback from their team.  Bad leaders do not welcome feedback and here followers have to tread carefully.  If the situation is serious enough, consideration should be given to going above the leader in question for guidance.

I am honest; sometimes brutally so. I have no issue telling someone they are wrong or if I disagree with what they say. I value honesty and feedback, and therefore, I will not refrain or bite my tongue for the sake of politeness. Sometimes, that gets me in trouble, but as Representative John Lewis says, there is such a thing as good trouble.

Courage.  Followers need to be honest with those who lead them.  They also need the courage to be honest.  It takes real courage to confront a leader about concerns with the leader’s agenda or worse, the leader himself or herself.  It is not for naught that Churchill called courage “The foremost of the virtues, for upon it, all others depend”.  From time to time, it takes real courage to be a good follower.

“There are all kinds of courage,” said Dumbledore, smiling. “It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I, therefore, award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom.”

I can be honest even when the situation gets tough. I am not afraid to speak my mind if someone is wrong. Courage is a virtue, as is honesty, and the two go hand in hand. If courage and honesty make me a good follower, then so be it.

Discretion.  A favorite saying in World War II was “Loose lips sink ships.”  Sports teams are fond of the expression “What you hear here, let it stay here.”  Followers owe their enterprises and their leaders discretion.  Talking about work matters inappropriately is at best unhelpful and more likely harmful.  Discretion just means keeping your mouth shut.  It should be easy but many find it next to impossible.  Bluntly, you cannot be a good follower and be indiscreet.  Everybody who works at an enterprise has a duty of care; indiscretion is not care, it is careless.

My dad sometimes says, “this stays in the family.” That means there’s some important business or secret that he had to tell me, but I wasn’t allowed to tell my friends. My friends know me as someone who can keep a secret. However, I am not the kind of person who keeps secrets that can harm others. Lately, in the media, whistleblowers have been making waves for breaking confidentiality and revealing the horrible things their corporations do. Discretion, to some extent, can be valuable. But here I disagree with McCallum: free-thinking, honesty, and bravery are more important than discretion.

Loyalty.  Good followers respect their obligation to be loyal to their enterprise.  Loyalty to the enterprise and its goals is particularly important when there are problems, interpersonal or otherwise, with a particular leader.  Followers who are not loyal are inevitably a source of difficulty.  They create problems between team members; they compromise the achievement of goals; they waste everybody’s time; they are a menace.  Loyalty is not a synonym for lapdog.  Rather, its essence is a strong allegiance and commitment to what the organization is trying to do.  Followers should remember that their obligation is to the enterprise, not a given leader at a given point in time.

I am loyal, often to a fault. Sometimes nonsensically, in the case of brand loyalty. I have never seen myself as a ‘lapdog’ for my loyalty. Instead, I have seen it as one of my greatest strengths. I am loyal to my friends. I am loyal to my family. I am loyal to my school. I am loyal to my sports teams– Go Pens! If I join an organization, it is because I have placed my trust and respect in that organization, and I will be loyal to them unless they wrong me.

Ego management.  Good followers have their egos under control.  They are team players in the fullest sense of the concept.  They have good interpersonal skills.  Success for good followers relates to performance and goal achievement, not personal recognition and self-promotion.  Sounds too good to be true and often it is.  It is difficult but the best organizations tie advancement and reward to performance and goal achievement as hard as that may be to do.

I often have trouble keeping my ego in check, and that is a personal problem that I have been working on for a very long time. I need to learn to derive my achievement from reaching my goals and acknowledging my own hard work, not from the recognition and approval of others. If I can strive towards ego management, I think it will not only make me a better follower but a better leader.

In conclusion, I still don’t 100% agree with the principles of followership. While reading the article, I found myself aligning more with the managers in the situation than the worker. However, unless I become the head of an organization (which I strive towards) I will always be managed. Until then, I think I can be an excellent leader by acknowledging the qualities of a good follower.

Junior year was a year of loss, of growth, of reflection, of change. It was a roller coaster in the truest sense, full of failure and achievement and more failure. I learned about myself in the classroom and out. It’s time move forward with my fourth, final, and senior year at Agnes Scott College. But first– a look back.

I entered the 2017-2018 academic apprehensive yet hopeful. I completed the Women’s Bridge to Business program at Georgia Tech, I was an intern at Green Worldwide Shipping, and I was eager to get started with my double major in History and Business Management. However, there was a horrible, looming shadow casting doubts over my abilities; BUS-211, Financial Accounting.

A mandatory class for the Business Management major, I tried my best to face my fears head-on and enter the lecture with a positive attitude. As someone with Dyscalculia, a math-based learning disability, I have never had an experience with math that wasn’t inherently traumatic. Still, my father is an accountant by trade, so I knew that if I put in the work, I could manage.

I could not manage.

Financial Accounting drove me to the brink of mental breakdown, and during the midterm exam, I turned in a half-blank test, left the class in tears, walked to my advisor’s office, and dropped the class, thereby withdrawing from the Business Management major. While I instantly felt better, I had to grapple with the fact that I was now a History major– just a history major. Only a history major.

At Agnes Scott, that is rare. Most students double major, major and minor, or double minor. Here I was, with just one major. I felt like a failure. I felt like a slacker.

However, I couldn’t dwell on these thoughts for long; my grandfather passed away in October.

The rest of the semester seems like a blur; I struggled to attend class, I struggled with finals, I struggled, I struggled, I struggled. I pass/failed two classes, allowing me to save my GPA. On a whim, I quit my internship of 18 months, hoping to find an internship in the spring– I did not. I entered winter break feeling like a failure, full of regret and anxiety.

Then, I went abroad to Israel. I wanted to come back excited and refreshed for the semester; instead, I came back, and I immediately felt like I was drowning.

I missed the first week of class due to being in Israel, and I came back without books, unprepared, without reading, and not ready to be thrown into the most challenging semester of my academic career.

I tried to keep up, but the longer the semester went, the more I felt like I was drowning– like I couldn’t manage the work. Still, I worked hard. I threw myself into research for my research project on the Enlightened Pirate, I excelled in my nonfiction writing class, and I had my play, Pathways, published. 

I started to thrive as a tutor at the Center for Digital and Visual Literacy. I was selected as a lead for marketing and development for the center, as well as to join a visiting professor from CNN to be a teaching assistant for SUM-400, and helped develop curriculum.

Still, I struggled in classes. I was told by a teacher I was in danger of failing (I was not), and a week before finals, I left campus, went home, and spent a week recouperating from a mental breakdown. My mental health is incredibly important to me, and without this week away from class, I knew I would have become dangerously close to harming myself.

I finished the semester maintaining my 3.5 GPA, with a research plan in place for my senior thesis, and with an internship for the summer at Old Sturbridge Village in Sturbridge, Massachusetts.

While this may seem like a story of triumph, it is not. I may have ended the year academically unscathed, but I lost friends. I lost family. I lost hope.

I enter this next school year with my two closest friends graduated. I enter after a long summer internship. I enter with no idea how to approach the subject of grad school or the GRE.

Still,  I am cautiously optimistic. After this year, how bad can it be?

Senior year, here I come.