One of my favorite years just happened to fall within my favorite decade.   It was 1989 and the beginning of my senior year in high school.  I was now, officially, the big man on campus…well, me and a few hundred other guys.  But nonetheless, I had a newfound spring in my step.  I walked down the hallowed halls of James Wood High School with my chest puffed out a bit more.  And I just knew that all the underclassmen looked up to me simply because I was older and wiser than them.

And being an upperclassman brought with it several perks.  We were now entitled to premier locker locations, closer parking spots, and my personal favorite….outdoor seating in the cafeteria.  I had been waiting for this one for years.  There was just something about seeing the seniors through the years step outside onto the concrete patio and enjoy lunch in the cool open air while the rest of us sat inside like prison inmates just staring at the freedom that could one day be ours.

I exercised this newly found privilege every opportunity I had.  It didn’t matter if it was twenty degrees with hurricane-type winds outside…I was on that patio.  Who cared if my fish square froze by the time I sat down on the ice-cold bench?  I was a senior and this was my prerogative.  Sure, some days I ate by myself while my friends with much more common sense watched from the warm, cozy cafeteria.  But on nice days, every senior was outside basking not only in the hot sun, but also in the glory of having the freedom to eat outside.

One luxury we did not have, however, was the option to order food from outside the school and have it delivered to us for lunch.  But that didn’t stop one of my friends from doing just that one day.  She worked for a pizza shop up the street from our school and decided to have them deliver her lunch.  And sure enough, they did.  She had her delicious thin crust pie in front of her in less than thirty minutes (Remember…this was the 80’s. The pizza delivery wars were in full swing and all pizzas were delivered in thirty minutes or less).

She had barely started into her second slice when a junior cracked open the cafeteria door to let us know that the principal was heading our way.  The pizza box was quickly slid to the middle of the table so it was impossible to identify who’s it was.  And seconds later, our principal graced us with his presence.  Nobody spoke as he slowly walked around the table, eyeing the pizza and then each one of us like we were all guilty.

“I’m going to ask this one time,” he began.  “To whom does this pizza belong?”

Everyone sat quietly as he waited.  Few had the nerve to actually look him in the eye.

“Well then,” he continued.  “If nobody wants to come forward, I’ll just have to assume that this pizza is Jay’s.  And he will be punished accordingly.”

Now, if you’ve read my book, Still Learning, you know that I had a history with this principal.  I’ve only had a handful of arch-enemies in my lifetime, but he was my first.  He was the Principal Dewitt to my Mike Seaver, the Mr. Belding to my Zack Morris.  We had our share of run-ins, almost always ending in some kind of punishment for me.  But this time I was completely innocent!

The girl who ordered the pizza gave me a quick look with her eyes that telepathically said, “This is my fault. I’m going to confess and not let you take the fall.  Also, I think you’re the hottest guy in this school.”

Okay, the last line may have been misinterpreted on my part, but she was getting ready to step up and save my skin.  Until I telepathically shot back, “Don’t worry about it.  I can handle this.”  And with that, the principal escorted me to his office, had me sit in my usual chair and proceeded to interrogate me until he got a confession.  He never did.  But I spent a week’s worth of lunches away from my favorite outdoor patio and in his stuffy office instead.

So why am I sharing this story?  Is it because I like to take a dig at my old high school principal every chance I have?  No. There was a time I would have said yes, but he’s a good guy. I consider him a friend now.  We don’t call each other to go hang out…but who knows?  Baby steps…

I’m sharing this story because reputation is sacred.  Proverbs 22:1 tells us “Being respected is more important than having great riches.  To be well thought of is better than silver and gold.”  Merriam-Webster defines reputation as the overall quality or character as seen or judged by people in general. 

Our reputations are how others see us.  And this isn’t something that crops up overnight.  Our reputations take years to develop.  In my case, I had a long history of getting into trouble in school.  So based on my reputation, the principal saw it as a pretty safe bet to bust me for the pizza…and I don’t blame him.  That’s the power associated with our reputations.  They can open up doors for us as quickly as they can have them slammed in our faces.

If you’re happy with your reputation, good for you. You didn’t earn it without hard work and effort.  If you feel your reputation is in need of some repair, join the club.  But the good news is that reputations aren’t static. They can always change.  And the best way to improve your reputation for tomorrow is to start working on it today.