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It Hasn't Changed Much Since Fifth Grade
Letting it all hang out for Leslie Goldman

By John Craft

 

Leslie Goldman was a vision. Her neatly cropped Dorothy Hamill haircut, conservative tortoise-shell glasses and delicate retainer did well to hide the fire and passion that I knew boiled just beneath those polyester threads.

Near the end of fifth grade at Woodview Elementary School, a failed 1970's "open school" experiment where you called your teacher by their first name, my friend Darryn Chupp told me that Dean Buntley told him that Leslie Goldman told Jenni Burton that she thought I was nice.

I had spent fourth and fifth grade at Woodview doing two things: trying to avoid calling my teacher "Dave", and writing "Leslie Goldman" on every spare inch of paper I could get my hands on. One day, Mr. Norris... er Dave… asked me to stay after class to discuss a recent math test. A decent student, I wondered if he would be asking me to be "lead mentor" when the first graders came by for their next visit. Much to my embarrassment, Dave (man, I still hate saying it) had discovered that I did not turn in my math test at all. He did, however, have two tests with the name Leslie Goldman at the top. So consumed by this crush, I had written Leslie's name at the top of my own test leaving a humbling paper trail for Mr. Norris to discover.

The last day of fifth grade was a day I had looked forward to all year. Soon I would grace the hallowed halls of Hubert H. Humphrey Middle School, leaving childhood behind for the challenges and excitement of junior high school. In the meantime, Darryn and I had big plans for the summer. With lawn-mowing jobs lining up and a verbal contract with Mrs. Henning to feed and walk her dog Blinky, our revenue forecast looked bright and our Velcro wallets would be well-lined for whatever awaited us. After learning Leslie's feelings toward me, I was sure that this would be a summer to remember.

The final activity of fifth grade was to meet at the "Learning Tree" and share with Dave and our classmates something special about the year gone by. One by one we sat in the center bean bag (it's hard to believe that these types of experimental schools were funded by our government in those days) and spoke about events, friends, and teachers who had made an impact on us during the year. Dean Buntley remarked on how cool it was to be able to call our teacher Dave (what a kiss-ass!), Jenni stated how happy she was when she could start wearing sandals to school, and Darryn, the budding entrepreneur, reiterated the verbal contract we had with Mrs. Henning. When it was my turn to share, I could feel the blood racing through my veins... the noise around me diminished as I gained the focus I needed to publicly respond to what Darryn had told me that Dean told him that Jenni told him that Leslie told her. Scanning the room, my eyes fixed on Leslie and I cleared my throat....

"Someone thinks I'm nice..."

That was my pitch... Dave knew what I meant... Darryn knew what I meant... Jenni knew what I meant. I could only hope that the lovely Leslie Goldman realized that I had stepped into the bright light for her and laid out my best offer.

By fifth grade standards, my remarks were the equivalent of a million-dollar proposal. I had one shot to make my pitch and there was no turning back. Perhaps in your most recent job interview or at your last client pitch you felt the same way I did. We live and die by the crushes that consume us in our professional lives. For example, how many times have you compiled lists of "ideal clients" or the "ideal companies to work for" yet never pursued? Do crushes ever prevent you from pursuing your dreams? Is it the risk of failing that makes us content to just simply maintain our crushes? In these challenging times, many of us are searching for new jobs, new business opportunities, and new careers. Hours are spent on monster.com or reading the latest issue of Fast Company and on most days, it feels like you're just pining away for that perfect job description. This is a time when we must manufacture our own crushes. Leslie Goldman isn't just going to be in your fifth grade class anymore.

A couple of weeks into summer vacation, I was walking back from Darryn's house after a day of mowing lawns. I had taken the long way home with the hope of seeing Leslie and finding out if she had made a decision about my proposal. As I approached her house, I could feel my heart pounding in my chest the same way I had felt on the last day of school. Leslie was sitting in a swing on the front porch as if she was expecting my visit. Walking towards her I mustered enough courage to say, "Hi, this is a cool porch." (smooth.... huh.) Leslie, looked at me and asked, "would you like to sit down?" THIS WAS IT! The girl of my dreams had accepted my proposal! I had written her name a thousand times over the past two years hoping a day like today would happen. Without a word, I sat next to her. A feeling of confidence overcame me. The fear of being crushed had been erased in an instant by a few simple words. I gently slid my hand over hers and we sat staring at the street. We were together.

Looking back on my afternoon in that beanbag, I realize how this crush had become my entire world and I had to take a risk in order to move on with my life... with or without Leslie Goldman. Who or what do you have a crush on? Take a chance, it's worth finding out where it might lead.

 
 
John is Executive Director of Pint.org, Portland’s leading networking organization for interactive professionals and is President of the Oregon Creative Services Alliance. John is currently searching for his new crush.