Leading My Way

My name is Danica Purg. I’m the founder of IEDC, the International Executive Development Center located in Bled, Slovenia… It’s finally time to tell my story myself. I was born in the rural part of Slovenia, then Yugoslavia, called Štajerska, near the Austrian border. My father was Ivan Purg, nicknamed Anzek. He was an important figure in our local textile factory after the Second World War… Father was honest, hardworking, from a farming family. My family was never brought up with culture in mind – survival and good, honest work, plus a glass of wine as the reward were the standards. My salient memory as a child was bringing meals to my father as he worked endless hours in the factory in Majšperk. I vividly remember the sounds of the factory, the smells, the dirt caked on his fingers, his blackened royal blue overall, the uniform of the Yugoslav worker. Between my father’s role as a modest, charismatic leader of our local community and my mother’s outgoing personality (and cake baking), our house was the place to be. It was regularly the site of parties and informal get-togethers… When it was time to gather the corn, we’d throw a shucking party, with neighbors gathered for plenty of wine, singing, and shucking our way through the evening. When I was 8, I rallied our small class against an abusive teacher. He was too enthusiastic about corporal punishment… I went with a small group of classmates to the headmistress of another village school to complain. Soon after, my father returned from a village Party meeting to report that the teacher had been relocated to a remote one-room schoolhouse with no electricity or indoor plumbing. I remember feeling that I’d done something good, that speaking up resulted in positive action, that I could use my willingness to speak to help others. Most of the lessons I gleaned from teachers were positive, even if hard to take. There was a little girl in my class, Pavla, who would walk every day for about two hours through the forest to school. Her parents warned her not to stray from the path because of vipers… She grazed on raspberries one day, was bitten, and was too afraid of punishment to tell her parents. She died the next day. Our teacher asked me to give a short speech at Pavla’s funeral. I could barely give it without collapsing, so she stood behind me, supporting me by my elbows. I’ve been terrified of snakes ever since. Another tragedy struck when a boy… accidentally shot his grandmother. He came directly to our teacher. She handled it well, recognizing that it was his father who had left the gun loaded who was truly to blame. The teacher was often in loco parentis for kids like us. When I was seven, our teacher announced that we would take a school field trip to Maribor. When it was canceled, I was furious. So I gathered five girlfriends, and we went anyway, all by ourselves. We walked an hour to the train station. I assured the man at the ticket booth that our teacher had instructed us to buy tickets and that she would follow. He sold them. I remember feeling like I was the grownup – one of my friends kept playing with the train door while we were moving, and I seemed to be the only one who realized how dangerous this could be. We made it home safely but were busted when a brother of one of my friends mentioned that the trip had been canceled. My father shouted down from the roof, “Now you’re in for it, little one!” Terrified of punishment, I wrote a dramatic note – “It’s not my fault. I’m going to drown myself.” I hid under my bed, then in a wooden chest used for blankets. My parents found the note and panicked. My father even ran to the nearby stream to look for me. When they discovered me safe the next morning, they were so relieved that they didn’t punish me. The community was so mutually supportive that managers of the factory offered to sponsor me to compete in a national talent show at Lake Bled… I recited an original poem. I didn’t get a prize, but it taught me I wasn’t afraid of the spotlight. Decades later, I was asked to serve on the board to determine recipients of the Presidential Decoration. During one session, Dr. Dušan Repovž was proposed, but the members didn’t understand what he’d done and rejected him. His son wrote a letter, read at the next session, when I was present. I immediately recognized his name. Because of my spinal problems, I had been sent to a summer camp for children with health issues. When I got sick, I was hospitalized in Koper, and Dr. Repovž visited me daily. He spoke to me kindly. “You’re a clever girl,” he said. “Don’t go to the textile school. Go to the advanced high school. I’ll give you all the books you need.” He told my parents he believed in me. That small act changed the entire course of my life. Without his intervention I might have remained a textile factory worker. Instead, I became a Doctor of Philosophy and founded the first business school in Yugoslavia. I stood up and told this story to the board. Dr. Repovž received the award. At the ceremony, he was wheeled in by his son. He didn’t recognize me, but I recognized him. It felt good to pay back his kindness. Sometimes the easiest of offerings – a supportive word to a young, sickly child – can change a life for the better. When I think back to my childhood, I recall the many people who improved life for me and my family… Perhaps it was this early experience that inspired me to set a personal goal: to do whatever I can to improve the lives of others. This is my story.