YesLetter: Summer: Articles

HOBY

by Rachael

• WHO: Hugh O’Brien, an old B-movie actor, was so inspired by the benevolent
  Actions of his African safari companion, Dr. Albert Schweitzer, that he created a youth leadership program.
• WHAT: HOBY=Hugh O’Brien Youth Leadership Seminar; a weekend-long
  leadership training program for sophomores only
• WHEN: Apply in late fall of your sophomore year; the seminars are held in the
  spring of sophomore year
• WHERE: All 50 states, and some foreign nations, have a HOBY program, some
  even have multiple programs in different regions of the state
• WHY: To meet interesting people and to realize that they’re who you’re up
  against
• HOW: Ask your guidance department how to apply early in your sophomore year

In recent history, my personal motto has been to make the best of everything while making everything work for you. Okay, so it’s not exactly a motto—more like an outlook. Whatever you want to call it, this attitude has helped me to undergo some euphemistically interesting experiences without many complaints and sans regret. This bias of sorts is important to consider when reading accounts of my experiences, since it obviously and inevitably influences the experience which I am relating.

With that in mind, I should explain a bit about my pre-HOBY (Hugh O’Brien Youth, http://www.hoby.org ) Leadership Seminar self. Before the spring of my sophomore year, which is when all HOBY seminars take place, I had only been away from home for a period of three days, and I had never spent more than an isolated day or two with a fully fresh set of peers.

I first learned about HOBY from the perpetually-glowing testimony of a friend who had attended it in her sophomore year and had yet to cease talking about it—a year and a half later. Needless to say, her enthusiasm was infectious, and I naturally applied to be my school’s single representative when the guidance department announced that applications were available in November (each school, regardless of size, is invited to send only one delegate and to designate one alternate). Sophomores should look out for announcements about HOBY from their respective guidance counselors in either October or November, as the final date for the school to send in its registration packet (which names its “Ambassador” and alternate) is in the first week of December annually.

At my high school, applying to be the HOBY Ambassador was a relatively simple process: a list of extra-curricular and community activities, an essay on “the challenges and rewards of leadership,” and a transcript scrutiny. The scholarship committee, composed of teachers and administrators at my school annually to adjudicate such affairs as HOBY and student of the month, then selected both the Ambassador and the alternate. Even though this process is not unique to my school, each high school can choose their Ambassador and alternate in any fashion that pleases it—they could even pull a name out of a hat, if it wished. However, most HOBY Ambassadors I spoke to reported that the selection process had been the same at their high schools, most likely because it is the same procedure (verbatim) that is recommended in the HOBY literature that is sent out high schools each year. The path of least resistance, anybody?

After being selected in December, I was pleased, bordering on excited, about having something to look forward to in the spring. However, my state’s HOBY organization (it is important to note that each state runs its seminars differently) did not exactly facilitate in my excitement. Nobody even sent me notice of the seminar’s date until early March—the seminar was to take place in the third week of April. Even in this belated and long-awaited mailing, there was little to sustain my initial anticipation, save the directions to the hotel that was hosting the seminar and a note that “casual business attire” was required.

So of course, being the ever-prying, sometimes-bored individual that I am, I looked up HOBY on the internet. I stumbled upon few morsels of excitement-reviving information. However, banal details were predictably abundant, such as HOBY’s mission to “seek out, recognize and develop leadership potential commencing with high school sophomores,” and its “expected outcomes”: thinking critically (showing “how to think” rather than “what to think”), enhancement of leadership skills, education about free enterprise, and ironically the ability of HOBY to be listed on college applications (this “outcome” is unsurprisingly the sole reason for attending for about half of HOBY kids). I also learned what HOBY officially and precisely is: a weekend-long (Friday morning-Sunday afternoon) leadership training seminar sponsored so heavily by corporations and private donors alike that all expenses were paid for (read: free) up until the recent economic downturn; now schools are asked to fund the $150 registration fee in order to keep the program alive.

Before long, my bags were packed, it was six in the morning, and I was on my way to a Ramada Inn in the middle of my state for HOBY. After unloading my luggage in a spare room in the motel, I was given my essentials for the weekend—a nametag and a folder containing a schedule and various other HOBY paper paraphernalia. I was shepherded into a conference room in which the rest of the Ambassadors were contained, and told to take out the icebreaker in folder and start icebreaking. Since these kids were, in general, young leaders in their schools, most of us tried in earnest to complete the activity (find someone with three sisters, find someone with different colored eyes, etc.). Soon, the insanity known as HOBY began. A GLIT (Group Leader In Training, also known as Junior Counselors/JC’s in other states; they’re alumni of the program either still in high school or recently in college) stood up on a chair and began chanting a cheer. The other GLITS joined in, and soon a few brave sophomore souls began cheering too. Over the next two and a half days, cheers became a sometimes-unfortunate part of the HOBY landscape; they came in many varieties, from simple to elaborate, singing to clapping, but they were undeniably ubiquitous. Although I joined in sometimes, and even became quite enthusiastic about a few of them, it’s a safe bet that I won’t be doing a cheer in heels on a chair anytime soon again.

The rest of the weekend went pretty quickly—in the HOBY tradition (and in fairness to those who attend) I really can’t be too explicit about a few of the quirkier customs that are common to all states’ HOBYs—“tattling” can ruin half the fun that can be found in it. During the two full days (Friday and Saturday), there were several panel discussions (for the most part they were sleep-inducing and the guests were nothing if inconsequential, but a few keynote speakers had No Doz-like charisma) and solitary speakers, both of which took up a fair amount of time, and gave my new-found friends and I chances to practice our surreptitious note-passing skills (being the good students that we are, we really hadn’t developed these otherwise normal instincts in school). Friday night we had a dance, which in all honesty was fun and maybe the highlight of the program; Saturday night was a talent show, which wasn’t too bad either. However, Sunday was the most agonizing for two reasons. First, it was truly difficult to say goodbye to newly-minted friends; and second, my parents picked me up, brought me home, and thought I was in a cult (because of the cheering).

Going back to my so-called life attitude…HOBY was very important to me personally and scholastically in the end. It actually did turn out to be a great resume listing—it shows that you’re a leader early on in your high school career and that your school thought highly enough of you when you were a lowly sophomore to send you to HOBY. I also have kept several of the friends that I made that weekend and keep in touch with the regularly, and I have often run into many HOBY alumni at different programs I’ve attended—it makes a great networking connection among your peers. HOBY was also the first time that I realized that there are many, many, many (did I say many?) extremely motivated and talented students out there, most more capable than I am, all competing for the same awards and college acceptance letters that we would soon be vying for—so I better try my hardest to beat them all at their own game. In essence, HOBY served as a wakeup call that the competition I would be facing in the coming two years would be intense, and to adjust to and accept that fact as soon as possible.