I recall being very proud that he was my Dad. As long as I could remember, once a year we spent a very special Saturday in May at a fair in Cross Roads, Kingston, Jamaica, at a place called – of all things – Nun’s Pen.

This was no ordinary fair. The highlights of the day were the intensely competitive track and field events. Though there were prizes to be won, participants competed more for bragging rights than for trophies.  A fundraiser for the – you guessed it – nuns of the Archdiocese of Kingston, it was a not-to-be missed event whether you were Catholic or not. My parents, converted Catholics who met in catechism class, were not only ardent Catholics, as most converts are, but they were also keen competitors and passionate sports fans.

Ronald George King

Dad was a sprinter, long and lean. Through the eyes of his daughter, he was the star of the show year after year. He won the 100 meters, the 200 meters, the 400 meters with ease, grace and style. This was of course before the days of specialized running footwear and clothing. He ran in sneakers, not running shoes.  An aspiring Olympic-level sprinter, he had little competition at the fair and he knew it. He would stride past the finish line, seemingly days before his competitors.

On the Jamaican national stage it was a different story. His running idols were Arthur Wint, 1948 Olympic gold medalist in the 400 meters and a world-record relay team member in the 1952 Helsinki Olympic Games, and Herb McKinley, a teammate of Wint’s on the relay team and also an Olympic medalist in several sprinting events.  My father dreamed of competing at this level but alas it was not to be. The national competition was fierce and formidable.

Yet, rather than dwelling on dashed hopes, there was a fundamental message my sisters and I always heard as we talked about the Olympic dream: focus on doing your best and aim high regardless of the odds. We saw in our parents a generosity of spirit and a determination to succeed co-mingled with a playfulness and joy that was infectious.

When my Dad won his races on those May afternoons, he would share his prizes with the runners up. You have to know that a favorite prize was a bottle of reserve rum. To the other competitors, a bottle of rum was a coveted prize. To a dedicated, competitive athlete (and one who worked at a rum bottling plant to boot) the prize had marginal appeal except to accumulate as many as possible so that he could give them away.  It was the drive to compete that was the top prize.

Layered in these experiences were the frequent sporting events that my entire family would attend and enjoy. We embraced a range of sports from amateur and professional boxing to track and field, soccer and cricket. We were at the opening of our National Stadium – which, by the way, is located on Arthur Wint Drive – to the time trials for the 1968 Olympics where several of my childhood friends qualified to participate in Mexico City.

Ronald George King with his three daughters

What I must say I don’t remember is the outcome of many of these events, but I do remember the special feeling of friendship, sharing and family that we had sitting in the stands, eating Jamaican meat patties and generally having a good time with the people around us.  My parents would always use these events as teachable moments and we would always leave one of these gatherings with a life lesson: how to be poised if you lose, how to rebound from what might seem like a devastating injury, how to win graciously and most importantly how to be ethical and fair in your interactions with others.

As I guide or participate on teams, in my work or in my volunteer life, I often call on these lessons learned from my Mom and Dad and try to share them with both the students and peers whom I encounter in my work: approach challenges with a positive, can-do attitude; think of creative ways to get things done; and remember that losing is not necessarily a bad thing as long as you learn from your mistakes and limit their repetition.

My Dad suggested that sports mirror life, and the lessons that I learned while watching him compete (and watching other competitors with him and my Mom) have been easy to apply in the university setting. With students, I am mindful that they are the next generation of leaders and that the examples we set, the behaviors we encourage and the actions we reward send powerful value messages to them. With peers, particularly in these challenging economic times, the message revolves around the importance of creativity, commitment, collaboration and civility.

At times, I still communicate these messages through sports analogies and metaphors. Of course living in Boston makes that easy. With the exception of Jamaica, I can’t think of any other place with the passion for athletics matched with the passion for life.