It’s SHOWTIME
It's SHOWTIME
I’ve always been sentimental about generational heritage. Traditions, legacy, values – the shared history that ties me to my cousins and the women who came before me. I’m first generation American on my mom’s side, and a dual citizen of the U.S. and Canada. My mom is 100% Scottish, and I was raised with all the Scottish customs, giving me a deep pride in our origin stories.
I cherish the heirlooms I’ve inherited – the antique silver heart locket from my great-great grandmother Elizabeth, my mom’s namesake. The silver cuff bracelet engraved with my grandmother’s initial. Wearing their jewelry, imagining their lives, their choices, their strength – it empowers me.
All day long, I work in my home office at the desk my dad used in his law practice. Our legal careers couldn’t be more different – his criminal, mine corporate – yet here I am, sitting where he once sat. He spent his days representing clients accused of heinous crimes; I spend mine on Teams calls discussing global human rights regulations and compliance programs.
I cherish the heirlooms I’ve inherited – the antique silver heart locket from my great-great grandmother Elizabeth, my mom’s namesake. The silver cuff bracelet engraved with my grandmother’s initial. Wearing their jewelry, imagining their lives, their choices, their strength – it empowers me.
All day long, I work in my home office at the desk my dad used in his law practice. Our legal careers couldn’t be more different – his criminal, mine corporate – yet here I am, sitting where he once sat. He spent his days representing clients accused of heinous crimes; I spend mine on Teams calls discussing global human rights regulations and compliance programs.
At night, I write at another one of his desks that was in his home office – the one that once belonged to a Chinese lawyer and was crafted in 1919 Peking. It traveled around Cape Horn to reach America, a journey that must have taken months. I often wonder what stories that desk could tell.
With all that rich heritage – the tangible and the mystic – it’s funny what stands out most when I think about the generational strength I carry. It comes from my Grandpa, Ian McGregor.
He was a character. I like to think I inherited his mix of academic and creative brain. He graduated from McGill University, one of Canada’s most elite institutions. He was also a fabulous musician, especially on piano, and he could tap dance. He dressed sharply, with monogrammed cuffs and beautiful cufflinks. He was a huge presence, especially to me.
And the strength he gave me?
A simple exercise in bravery.
When I was very young – so young I don’t even remember learning it – he taught me what to do when I’m walking into a situation that scares me, intimidates me, or makes me doubt myself.
Stop.
Take a huge breath in.
Straighten my shoulders.
Chest up.
And whisper:
“It’s SHOWTIME.”
Then bust through the door like I belong there.
Nobody second guesses a person who walks in with that kind of confidence.
My Grandpa died unexpectedly when I was nineteen, long before I could tell him how impactful that lesson has been. But I’ve used it countless times – job interviews, public speaking, Jack’s adoption hearing, any moment with consequences or high stakes where I need a pair of brass balls in my pocket.
Every time, I pause.
I breathe.
I stand tall.
I whisper:
“It’s SHOWTIME.”
And I walk in.
And it’s never let me down.
While I’m shaped by heirlooms, stories, and the desks I work & write at, sometimes it’s the smallest inheritance that makes the biggest impact.
Feel free to share your stories in the comments. I’d love to hear them.
He was a character. I like to think I inherited his mix of academic and creative brain. He graduated from McGill University, one of Canada’s most elite institutions. He was also a fabulous musician, especially on piano, and he could tap dance. He dressed sharply, with monogrammed cuffs and beautiful cufflinks. He was a huge presence, especially to me.
And the strength he gave me?
A simple exercise in bravery.
When I was very young – so young I don’t even remember learning it – he taught me what to do when I’m walking into a situation that scares me, intimidates me, or makes me doubt myself.
Stop.
Take a huge breath in.
Straighten my shoulders.
Chest up.
And whisper:
“It’s SHOWTIME.”
Then bust through the door like I belong there.
Nobody second guesses a person who walks in with that kind of confidence.
My Grandpa died unexpectedly when I was nineteen, long before I could tell him how impactful that lesson has been. But I’ve used it countless times – job interviews, public speaking, Jack’s adoption hearing, any moment with consequences or high stakes where I need a pair of brass balls in my pocket.
Every time, I pause.
I breathe.
I stand tall.
I whisper:
“It’s SHOWTIME.”
And I walk in.
And it’s never let me down.
While I’m shaped by heirlooms, stories, and the desks I work & write at, sometimes it’s the smallest inheritance that makes the biggest impact.
Feel free to share your stories in the comments. I’d love to hear them.
