The day I met the Queen

In my eyes, there is no-one that epitomises true servant leadership like the Queen.

As we celebrate the death of our beloved Queen of England, I cannot help but contemplate the legacy she leaves behind.  To many, she will remain in reflective memory as the longest reigning sovereign in the history of the Monarchy (which of course is an impressive statistic), but let’s dig deeper into what this actually means.

Queen Elizabeth II unexpectedly ascended the throne at the young age of 25, after the death of her beloved father King George VI. With the evolvement of modern day medicine, neuroscientists can now attest to the fact that the pre-frontal cortex of the brain does not fully develop until the age of 25.  In other words, the young Elizabeth was not quite emotionally mature enough to cope with the duty flung upon her, however, she appeared to manage pretty instantly.  I suspect it was the years of preparation by the Crown that initiated her innate quality of calm servant leadership.  When as a young girl during the war in 1940, HRH Elizabeth addressed the children of England on BBC Radio’s Children’s Hour, her humility and soothing voice reassured the separated families that one day “in the end, all will be well.”  This was an early indication of her stoic ability to lead and bring comfort to her people.

As I write this blog over a week since her passing, her speech on her 21st birthday has already become infamous.  Anyone who was ever in any discord about the true relevance of the Queen will surely now appreciate the constant, unrelentless work ethic she maintained throughout her 70 year reign.

“I declare before you all that my whole life whether it be long or short shall be devoted to your service and the service of our great imperial family to which we all belong.”

Our Queen, or Lilibet, to those that knew her well, is the everlasting definition of servant leadership.  She even signed off many letters to the general public quite literally, “Your Servant.”  Her dignified dedication to her inherited duty never weakened. We witnessed this in her final days as she fulfilled the important role of meeting the new Prime Minister.  With blackening hands (a pretty good sign in the elderly that the circulatory system is shutting down) and an unsteady walking stick, she shook hands with her 15th and final Prime Minister. This was a mere two days before her passing.  It almost breaks my heart to think of how physically weak she must have felt.  Yet she carried on, without a single hair out of place and with her signature smile.  Quite simply, what a legend.

True servant leadership is in the Queen’s words “placing duty first and self second.” It is forcing yourself out of your comfort zone and it is about doing things you probably don’t want to do, for the benefit of others.  There is a truly heart-warming account in Michelle Obama’s autobiography about the day she met the Queen. She describes how when she commented on Ms Obama’s very high heels, the Queen then continued to joke, requesting her guest to not judge her unfashionable flat shoes.  She then went on to remark how her feet still hurt anyway. Michelle Obama agreed that hers were also hurting a lot. In that magical moment, both women looked into eachother’s eyes as kindred spirits. Two women on the world stage, always on their feet meeting and greeting important people, both thinking “when will this end and when can we sit down and put our feet up!?” 70 years is a long time to stand in lines, shaking hands.

People seem to forget that the Queen was also involved in many patronages and charities.  She dutifully attended endless functions and made an appearance at important events both in the U.K. and across the globe.  In fact, she was the Patron of my school and still to this day, the most important day of the school’s history was the day The Queen, our Patron, came to visit.

This is the brief story of the day I met The Queen on Monday 14th November 1994.  The school had been preparing for this day for weeks. Everything was rehearsed to perfection. The headmistress had previously hand-picked the most eloquent, perfectly behaved children to greet the Monarch on her arrival. She would then be bestowed the honour of giving out awards at a decadent prize giving culminating in an orchestral delight performed by the school choir.  I was not picked to take part in any of these special roles, much to the dismay of my Grandma. My dear grandmother was born a year before Elizabeth II and she had idolised her for her entire life.  She frequently indulged in reading magazines about her fashion, her jewellery and her whereabouts, much like how you and I follow Victoria Beckham’s latest jaunts on Instagram.

My only chance of meeting the Queen was if my classroom happened to be selected for her to enter.  In 1994, I was in Year 9. Aged 14. Do you remember that slightly awkward era of your life? For me, it was a journey of adolescent discovery, self-doubt and inner conflict.  In the words of Britney, I was not a girl, not yet a woman. And, I was surrounded by a bunch of 14 year old boys with way too much bravado and tomfoolery (isn’t that such a fabulous quintessentially British phrase by the way!?).  Lo and behold, my classroom was picked! The impeccably planned itinerary coincided with our French lesson. With Cabbage.

Cabbage was the nickname of our French teacher.  Teenagers can be so brutal. The boys in our class were especially bad.  She was never EVER mentioned by anyone outside of her classroom as anything other than “Cabbage”. Her crime and reason for being called Cabbage was the fact that she permanently frowned. So much so that she always had many ruched lines on her face, resembling a Cabbage. In fact of all my years sitting in that classroom, I never saw her smile once. Apart from the day the Queen walked into her classroom.  As this strangely familiar ethereal woman proudly walked in, boldly in a deep plum coloured suit and matching hat, she looked around at all of us and beamed.  We all stood up and bizarrely started reciting words in French and I vividly remember seeing Cabbage’s face illuminate. Elated. Glossy. Smiling.  She smiled throughout the rest of the class, as if she had been touched by an Angel.  And doesn’t that epitomise the unique ability of our Queen? She beamed at us all, serving her people, despite her sore feet swelling and could make the saddest person in the room smile.

She was our Matriarch.  She was a Grandmother to us all.  She was a true servant leader with the strongest work ethic.  She was programmed to still set an example until the very end.  Her Majesty, the Queen, is a reminder to us all of “showing up” even on the days we really don’t want to. The show must ALWAYS go on.

2022 was the year I effectively lost both my Grandmothers.  I will cherish the stoic qualities I have learned from both these incredible women.  Cut from the same cloth…a rare breed remaining from a generation of war-time heroines.  I witnessed my grandmother refuse to show weakness or pain in the final days of her life, just like the Queen.  In our modern days of convenience and comfort, where we choose trainers over heels and a Zoom and loungewear over a polka dot dress and afternoon tea, we must remember these lessons from these quintessentially British female ancestral figures.

They just don’t make them like that anymore.

❤️

In memoriam of HM Queen Elizabeth II

By Nina Alexander

ninaalexander.com

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