Marshall University student Connor Waller used to think the things that kept him up at night were the things that disqualified him for leadership.
After all, how could someone whose battled a long list of fears – including milk (yes, really), bread (it’s amazing what a label change can do to a kid), the possibility of someone else getting sick, bad weather and public speaking – ever imagine becoming the voice of thousands?
But that’s exactly what he’s doing as Marshall University’s Student Government Association president, and he’s not leading despite his fears – he’s leading because of them.
“I’ve never been the loudest or most confident person in the room,” he says. “But I’ve learned to trust myself. I trust how I prepare. I trust my values. And I trust my willingness to listen.”
A self-described “old man in a younger man’s body,” Connor’s story isn’t one of sudden transformation – it’s about slow, steady steps. The kind that often carry the weight of discomfort.
Even though he admits that, if he had it his way, he’d still be in bed by 8:30 p.m.
The anatomy of fear
Connor’s fears weren’t born as just momentary flinches – they were formative. As a child, he was diagnosed with a severe milk intolerance, which meant nearly every meal carried the possibility of making him sick. This taught him early on that something as basic as food could be dangerous – and when a dairy-free bread company changed its packaging structure and label, Connor stopped eating.
“For some reason, they thought it was a good idea to change the label without asking me,” he laughs. “It took a long time to convince me that the logo change wasn’t meant to somehow kill me.”
Then came his fear of people getting sick – particularly the panic of watching someone vomit. It may sound small, but for Connor, it could be paralyzing. At one point in elementary school, he was so distressed that his father had to physically carry him into the building each morning – even though his mother worked at the school.
Storms later joined the list. Connor grew up in Ohio, far from any real tornado zones – but every strong gust of wind convinced him the house might just blow away. He started staying up late to check the locks and monitor the skies. Strangely enough, he ultimately soothed his anxiety by watching tornado documentaries on The Weather Channel.
“It probably wasn’t the healthiest strategy – watching people’s homes get affected by extreme weather – but it helped me understand what I was afraid of,” he says. “Sometimes, knowing why you’re scared helps more than pretending you’re not.”
Then, in high school, speaking in front of just a few classmates was enough to send him into a panic. Even now, standing on stage feels like a challenge.
But he stands there anyway.
“I still get freaked out every time I have to speak in front of people,” he says. “I don’t necessarily enjoy it, but I’m very privileged to do it. At the end of every speech, I feel a smile creep across my face. I know what it took for me to get up there.”
Finding his place
Though he is a member of Marshall’s prestigious Yeager Scholars Program and served terms as SGA treasurer and vice president before becoming president, Waller never set out to hold a leadership role in college. He joined a few clubs. Said no to a few others. Then, slowly and a little reluctantly, tiptoed through doors he hadn’t planned on opening.
It was those doors that changed his life, and that reluctance that keeps his leadership from ever feeling performative. For Connor, it’s deeply, and uniquely, personal.
“When a student comes to me with a problem that might seem small to others, I try to remember that for that person, it might be the biggest thing in their life right now,” he says. “If I can help someone feel understood or less alone, even once, that’s what this is all about. My past struggles made me more empathetic, and they shape how I lead.”
But perhaps what’s most surprising about Connor isn’t how far he’s come – it’s how open he is about the journey it’s taken to get to where he is.
“I used to think life had to follow a certain path and that everything needed an explanation,” he says. “But now? I know the best growth happens when you let go of needing certainty and follow the people and moments that make you better.”
And that, he says, is what Marshall has given him: not just a title or a future degree, but a whole new lens on life.
“This place validated what I always hoped the world could be,” he says. “A place where vulnerability isn’t weakness and where compassion is leadership. The people here – students, mentors, President Smith – have shown me that real strength comes from being honest about who you are.”
If anything, Connor Waller’s story reminds us that leadership doesn’t belong to the fearless. It belongs to the willing. The ones who show up scared and then do it anyway. Even when those old fears still linger in the background.
“I think I’ve made peace with milk these days,” he laughs. “Storms still shake me when I’m trying to sleep, but I’m getting pretty good at waking up each morning, choosing thankfulness that I made it through the night.”