The "Won’t Make Butcher" Story: The Story Behind the Name

You may be wondering where the name for this website came from. Its genesis explains why I have always believed that one of the most powerful things we can do for anyone is to let them know we believe in them—particularly when they doubt their own potential.

I had just turned 17 when I arrived at Churchill, a senior public school, at a very low point in my academic life. I had just transferred from St. George’s College, a private school where I had ignominiously failed all my school leaving exams. My mother went to the school to try to find out what was happening. There, she encountered my French teacher, who, when asked what the future held for me, told her, “Your son won’t even make it as a butcher!” The message was a blunt opinion that I was a no-hoper. Not surprisingly, arriving at my new school, I felt apprehensive and beaten up, but I also had the resolve to dig myself out of the hole I had dug for myself. As nobody at Churchill knew me, I had no “bad boy” image to live up to. This would give me the chance to recommit myself to getting my act together. It was reassuring to feel that I had just been given a clean slate.

Two teachers at Churchill made significant contributions to my academic turnaround and self-image. The first was my geography teacher, a gentleman by the name of Pete Snyder. He was passionate about his subject matter, which was reflected in the enthusiastic way he taught us. He wanted the best for his students. He showed everyone respect, and we reciprocated.

A second teacher, Mr. O’Brien, made another positive change to my self-perception when he asked me one day, out of the blue, what university I was applying to. To be asked this question was a shock to me given my previous academic failures. The thought of attending university hadn’t even crossed my mind, let alone the notion of picking one. But here was a teacher who thought that I was automatically headed to university. His regard for me, in turn, was the catalyst that gave me the confidence to think that maybe I did have the potential to go further in my studies and in my life.

Both teachers, consciously or not, applied what psychology calls the Pygmalion effect: the phenomenon where high expectations lead to elevated performance. It’s a principle I’ve carried with me ever since—because how we speak to people shapes who they become.