What Excellence Really Means

(And Why Now Might Be Your Season to Rise)

“Excellence is doing ordinary things extraordinarily well.”
~ John W. Gardner

It’s graduation season. The world feels wide open for so many — young adults tossing caps in the air, searching for purpose, and asking:

How can I truly excel when I’ve never felt like “the best”? Where do I even begin?

If that question stirs something in you, you’re not alone. I’ve lived inside it for most of my life. And I want to share a story — a story about a gorilla, a shiny pair of shoes, and a single question that changed everything.


“Why Do You Strive for Mediocrity?”

That’s what my college professor, Mr. Barney Sandberg, asked me one day after class.

Not in a harsh tone, but in a way that made my spine straighten.
He wasn’t scolding me. He was holding up a mirror.

And the truth? I didn’t know how to answer him.

For so long, I had settled for being “pretty good.” I wasn’t a straight-A student — more of a B with an occasional A or C. I flew under the radar. I aimed for “just enough.”

But once he asked me that question, something cracked open in me. I didn’t want to be mediocre. I just didn’t know how not to be.


The Gorilla Report and the Applause That Changed Me

I think it started in fifth grade.

Every week, we were given an animal to research — facts about their habitat, diet, and behavior. Most kids copied a few sentences and turned it in.

But I went all in. My resources were limited — just an old Encyclopedia Britannica set and a single book about animals I’d won in a costume contest (I’d been a homemade clown that year, ruffled collar and all). But I devoured every detail. I couldn’t help myself.

I filled page after page, handwriting neat, corners straightened, adding things like how gorillas lived in tight-knit groups, how they communicated with gestures, what they ate in different seasons — not just bananas.

And while the next assignment came quickly, I was still immersed in the last one, trying to get every detail just right. I often felt like I was falling behind — like I was too slow.

Until one day… my teacher held up my gorilla report in front of the class.

She didn’t just say, “Good job.”
She stopped the whole lesson.

“This,” she declared, “is how it’s done.”
She waved the paper and looked around the room.
“Every one of you should take a cue from this. Don’t just write ‘gorillas eat bananas.’ Find everything they eat. Dig. Learn. Care.”

And then — like something out of a movie — she marched over, slapped my report on my desk, and said loudly, “End of lecture!”

I was stunned. I had been so sure I was too slow. That I wasn’t keeping up. That I was doing too much.

But it turns out… I was doing my best. And it mattered.


The Blue Dress, Hair Bun, and the Shiny Shoes

So when parent-teacher conference day came, I was practically floating.

I picked out my favorite blue dress — the one with the tiny floral embroidery. I tied my hair into a tight little bun and polished my shoes until they shone like patent leather. I imagined my teacher beaming and telling my mom and dad I was her brightest student.

I was ready for praise.

But when we sat down, she simply said,
“She has a C in science.”

No mention of the report. No praise. No sparkle.
I remember my cheeks going hot, My stomach sinking. I quietly nodded as she moved on to the next student’s file.

The walk home felt endless. My shoes — once so shiny — now just clicked beneath my heavy steps.
I had done my best… and it still wasn’t good enough.


The Monologue and the Rope

But excellence has a way of sneaking back in — if we let it.

Years later, in college, I prepared a comedic monologue for a showcase. The piece — bold and satirical — was about a high school teacher with questionable morals. I was nervous, but I prepared meticulously.

The performance was delayed until the following semester. In the meantime, another student stole the spotlight by ending his scene hanging naked from a rope (yes, really).

I remembered that rope.

So when it was my turn, I timed my final line
“Do you want me to be naked in front of you?”
just as a rope dramatically dropped from above.

The audience roared.

Laughter exploded. I grabbed the rope, held the moment, and rode the wave of applause. I didn’t over-explain. I didn’t break character. I owned it. After the show, I got offers for other performances. People remembered that moment. It became one of those experiences that whispered, “You have something.”


Doing Toilets Like Michelangelo

These days, I bring that same energy — that street-sweeper-level intention — to everything I do.

Whether I’m giving speeches at my Toastmasters club (where I’ve proudly won “Best Speaker” several times), prepping for this week’s podcast appearance, or writing blogs like this — I strive to do even the ordinary with extraordinary care.

It’s why I love Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s quote so much:

It reminds me of episodes from Dirty Jobs, where host Mike Rowe honored people who cleaned septic tanks or worked in sewers — and still showed up with pride and joy. Or moments on Undercover Boss, where fast-food employees wiping down trays or scrubbing restrooms were promoted and celebrated simply because they gave their all — without needing the spotlight.

That, to me, is the essence of excellence. It doesn’t brag. It just shows up fully.


And Now… It’s Your Turn

So if you’re stepping into a new chapter…
If you’re wondering whether “your best” is enough…
If you’re ready to stop coasting and start creating

Let this be your sign. You don’t need to be perfect.
But you do need to bring your heart. Your care. Your whole self.

And if you’re a coach, creative, or purpose-driven soul looking to collaborate — I’d love to hear from you. I’m open to interviews, guest content, and meaningful co-creations.

Let’s do something that makes the heavens pause and say,
“Here lived someone who did their job well.”


Action Nibbles 🍪

 💫 Where are you settling for “just enough”? Pick one task this week — and go the extra mile.
🧼 Try cleaning something ordinary — like a toilet — with King-level dedication.
📩 Reach out if you’re ready to bring more excellence into your life or collaborate on something beautiful.


Excellence isn’t about being the best in the room. It’s about being the best version of yourself — again and again.

And that? That’s more than enough.

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