The Impact of Monumental Moments

We’ve all experienced them. Sometimes they are empowering. Sometimes they are destructive. Sometimes they are a little of both. They can bring joy and sorrow, fear and adventure, clarity and uncertainty. They are those moments in our lives that change our trajectory … they are our monumental moments.

Earlier this summer, we gathered in Washington, D.C., to celebrate another incredible convention. Taking cues from our host city, convention was themed “Monumental Sisterhood.” Looking back on those few days, I know without a doubt there were monumental moments that will forever change our Fraternity and its members. Perhaps the most recognizable are the big things: the change to our organizational structure, the celebration of the largest fundraising campaign ever completed by a National Panhellenic Conference organization and the distribution of 30,000 new books to children who otherwise might not have a book of their own. However, I also know there were monumental moments that did not get the same hoopla: the collegian who met a mentor, the alumna who realized she had always been a leader, the attendee who left energized to make an overdue change. I’ve come to learn that there are not fireworks for every monumental moment in our lives. In fact, in that instant, we might not know something big is happening.

In 2002, I left my job as a middle school principal in Littleton, Colorado, to take a new post in Houston as my husband’s number one supporter. I joined my local Pi Beta Phi alumnae club to find friends and, in the process, realized a Pi Phi lived just seven houses down my street. Encouraged by my club, I took on leadership roles. An issue of The Arrow included a volunteer interest form. I thought I might have some skills that could be helpful, and I had the time, so I completed the form. I was asked to serve on the Alumnae Regional Team, then elected director of the team. At this past convention, something happened that had been the farthest thing from my imagination for most of my life: I was installed as the 24 th Grand President of Pi Beta Phi. You may see several monumental moments in those last few sentences, but you might not identify the most important. The moment that truly changed my trajectory was completing that form in The Arrow.

I never thought I’d care about protecting the legacy of our Fraternity as much as I do. I never thought I’d feel a deep responsibility to inspire our members to make the most of their membership. I never thought I’d ever say my purpose — for the last few years and next few to come — would be to add value to my college Fraternity. But all those feelings came from attaching a 34-cent stamp on a completed volunteer form.

As you read this issue, I hope that you reflect on the monumental moments in your life. That you’ll think a bit more about the exact experience that changed your plans and helped you find your purpose. And, if you need the extra nudge, that this issue encourages you to acknowledge that little, inconsequential blip that keeps circling in your mind … maybe that was a monumental moment and you just don’t know it yet.

In Pi Phi,