Mountains of Rock and Mountains of Jell-O

Our tiny business class of less than ten students went on a field trip Friday to a very official-sounding business conference. Funny thing is, what I took from it had nothing to do with incomes or partnerships, rather it was more of a perspective.

I'm a small town girl. I wore my t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers and even wore my hair in ponytails--no hairspray required. The conference was in a big city so from the get-go I felt like a sloppy raggamuffin and could've sworn someone pulled the 'elevator-eyes' on my outfit, but that wasn't really what bothered me.

No, what really hit me was as soon as we entered the enormous room the opening was to be held in, a heavy wave of obnoxious, over-bassed music hit us full in the face. Though it was all popular songs in my peer group, I already knew that they were far from complimenting. Most of them had sleazy themes and I began to feel really uncomfortable as 'the business leaders of the future' began dancing, yelling, singing at the top of their voices, and even standing on top of their chairs.

Of course, these were my fellow reckless teenagers so it didn't completely shock me. But when I turned my head and saw one of the leaders of the convention dancing--and later saw him go up to the front and encourage all the chaos--my eyes really widened.

Remember, I'm a small town girl. A 'little Mormon town' girl where you see your highschool teachers at church. Maybe for some of you things like this are in everyday life, but I believe it was my first lick at culture shock.

Maybe I'm a little too cushioned by the little 'bubble' I live in to really know what I'm talking about, but I'm at least going to try.

You see, I've been exposed to amazing leaders. Ones who know you by name and thank you personally for your efforts, are strong enough to admit their own shortcomings, pace the floor and pray late into the night for you, tell you the direction you should go and follow that direction themselves. They'll laugh with you just as soon as they'd cry with you. Somehow, they're always there because, to them, presiding over means watching over. They have already decided what they will and won't put up with and hold fast to it; like my Seminary teacher who kept us a few minutes after the school bell rang because what we were learning then, he told us, was more important.

That's my definition of leader.

What I saw at the conference were intelligent, good-intended men and women. They were trying to lead youth down a successful path in their future--something we probably need a lot of in this world. But it just seemed strange to me that they had to try and make it attractive to us teens.

Of course you want to personalize your message to your audience, but that doesn't mean you have to give into your audience's standards. I mean, just look at all those prophets. Had they given in to all the harsh treatment of their hard-hearted crowds, their message wouldn't have been near as effective.

Like I said, I have a bit of a limited perspective and I haven't been hired to critique the conference or anything, its just an interesting contrast I saw and it made me immensly grateful for the people in my life who, title or not, are my leaders.