Waiting for Notes

48 Weeks to Publication

Hello friends!

It’s been a week!

The manuscript is out for notes, and I am anxiously awaiting feedback.

It’s a vulnerable spot to be in, the waiting. I got an email requesting a meeting this afternoon, and of course my first response is that feeling of being called into the principal’s office. Did I do something wrong or is it just an administrative issue? Or maybe it’s even some good news. All I can do until I begin to receive the notes is to remind myself how hard I’ve worked on this.

I know that hard work doesn’t always equal quality, but I also know that I’ve got a good handle on this topic. These last few weeks of research didn’t turn up any game changing information, only interesting tidbits. The story is known, I’ve put it on paper. Now it’s time to see what people think.

It’s also time to be grateful for the people in my life that have been at my side from the start. They listened to me flushing out the idea. I watched as curiosity lit their faces and they affirmed that yes, people want to hear this story. Generally, the people that have cheered me on the most have been women, interested in women’s stories. They are active, not necessarily athletes or former athletes, but they are strong. And they recognize strength in others.

One of the themes of the Tigerbelles, the book and the team, is that being a part of a group is a responsibility. You don’t focus only on yourself; your focus is the collective. The team. Mae Faggs, one of the early members and known as the mother of the Tigerbelles, told her team that they weren’t doing their job if they graduated winning. That meant that they had to work with the younger women on the team and teach them everything they learned to pull them along until the younger women could beat the graduating seniors.

Mae Faggs keeps Wilma Rudolph on her shoulder as the two qualify for the 1956 Olympic team. Photo from Tennessee State University Special Collections

Mae walked her talk, retiring only when she knew Wilma Rudolph had her beat. Wilma, young and insecure, was terrified on the big stage, and Mae told her to “stay on my shoulder” while they ran the qualifying race for the 1956 Olympic team. Wilma did exactly what Mae said, until the end of the race when Wilma seemed to believe that she could win herself. Mae had to dig deep to stay in front, maintaining her role as team leader, but she knew when the race was done that Wilma was ready to move past her. That’s when she knew she could retire.

It takes a particular kind of love to invest so much in the people who are chasing at your ankles. It takes a selflessness, and a commitment to community. Women helping women. Pulling each other along, and when they pass you, you cheer them on knowing that you’ve done your job, and made a good pass of the baton.

Until next week!

Aime