I joined the Young Marines Youth Service and Leadership Program when I was 12, and it turned into my first career. I recently completed the final leadership training, Advanced Leadership School (ALS). After two weeks of rigorous training, I was named the Honor Graduate (#1). Now I know what I can accomplish, and I understand what it means to not only be lead, but what it means to be a leader.

The first event at ALS is establishing a routine, which becomes the only certainty. Wake up at 5:30 for vigorous physical training. Three, evenly spaced meals. An hour of free time before bed. The routine keeps you sane. It gives you something to believe in, and you learn to look forward to what comes next. Routine also means we were all being treated identically. Everyone got the same amount of sleep, the same food, and the same tools.

Realizing the classes that took up most of our days could be used as tools, I used my tools to give myself an advantage. Whether I was leading or being led, I tried to recall a discussion or technique from previous classes. Implementing what I was learning made it easier for me to endure the physically and mentally demanding regime.

One morning we were thrown out into the Oregon wilderness in teams of four, with only a map, compass, protractor, and a marker. Mosquitos swarmed, and bug spray was like snake oil. It was cold, wet, windy, and we found ourselves hip-deep in wet grass surrounded by a cold mist. At 1:30 in the morning, after a 20 hour day, we hiked home due to heavy rain. I loved every second of it.

That day taught me that a leader has responsibility for the well-being of the followers and not just for getting the job done. Followers have a responsibility to support the leader, which includes trying to make things work even in a bad situation. The hardest parts about being a leader are to maintain your bearing when things go wrong, and to adapt on the fly. 

At the end of each day, we knew we had earned our hour of free time before lights-out. At face value, the whole day was absolutely grueling, but I stopped thinking about it that way. I was comforted knowing that everyone else was facing the same challenges. We were in it together. We supported each other. We looked after each other, and found safety and friendship.

When I need to step up and be a leader at Young Marines, or as part of a class project at school, I remember my leadership values: being personable (never harsh), two-way communication (listen to people), and lifting up my team (help and be helped). I ask myself, how can I help the people on my team in a way that will make us all feel better and inspire us? At ALS, I felt myself moving on from being a kid and learning to be an adult. While there was a feeling of melancholy, I also felt like this was how I was meant to be. 

I miss ALS every day. I miss the lack of sleep, the tiny meal portions, the cold, boring drill, the giant, mosquito-infested land navigation field, the classes, and the evaluations. I miss the camaraderie that kept me going. I miss feeling like everything was thoroughly earned. I miss every day being fulfilling and satisfying. I’m still connected with all my classmates. Every day, they remind me how ALS was one of the best times of my life.