Virginia Capitol Connections, 2025 Annual Magazine 6 A Man of Contradictions Speaker Don Scott By BONNIE ATWOOD It was clear at the first handshake that Speaker Don Scott is a man who does his homework. He greeted this reporter by referencing every school she had ever attended. (We were kind of glad he didn’t get into the grade point averages, but he probably could have.) Our Speaker of the House Delegates is organized, dapper, and cordial. Both his appearance and his office are neat as a pin. Dressed in a matching sky-blue suit, shoes, and polka dot tie, he was impeccable. His 14th-floor office is adorned with contemporary art—not too much, not too little—and the furnishings are arranged with precision. (We actually searched for a speck of lint or crumpled paper and found none.) Scott is a man of contradictions. He grew up in humble beginnings, stunned his teachers with his brilliance, and hopped on a fast track to success. He encountered serious trouble along the way, only to emerge as perhaps the Commonwealth’s greatest comeback story. Even his childhood represents contradictions. He spent his early years going back and forth between the big, shiny city of Houston and the country town of Jasper, Texas. One of eight children, he showed early promise. That was largely credited to his mother, still living, at age 90. She was an avid reader, tackling three books at a time and writing a newspaper column. “It wasn’t all perfect,” says Scott. In some school years, he was one of few Black students, in others, not. He took speech therapy for a speech impediment, which is undetectable today. He rode the “short, yellow school bus” that other children associate with disability, and yet he was labeled gifted early on. He coped by “not saying a lot.” He got excellent grades academically, but he also got a few “U’s” for unsatisfactory in the less academic judgments. He said that was an indication of low expectations. Then came the Iowa test—a national assessment of basic skills, long considered the gold standard before the era of SOLs and test prep courses. Scott’s performance was so exceptional that the school contacted his mother. He was firmly placed in the “gifted” category. He began a lifetime of strict, yet comfortable, self-discipline. From grades four to rising at 5 a.m. for the long commute to school. When asked, he said he wanted to become an engineer, but that may not have been his heart’s desire. High school consisted of half a day of academics and half a day studying aerodynamics and avionics at the airport. He remembers all his teachers by name, gesturing emphatically with his hands as he recalls them. We shared an appreciation for written words. Nothing excites an old-school writer more than a nod to “The Elements of Style,” by E.B. White and William Strunk Jr., or the joy of diagramming sentences. There are a few detours to come, but words are surely one of his beautiful strengths. Scott attended Texas A&M University, studying agriculture. He intended to join the military (in his case, the U.S. Navy), as previous members of his family had done. After college, he attended Officers Candidate School in Rhode Island. Next came law school. Though he graduated at the top of his class, he lives by this advice: “You don’t have to be with the top people to be a leader.” That’s where the humility shines. He kept his 5 a.m. wake-up routine, calling it part of his “brand.” The brand thrived—until it didn’t. Someone asked him to pick up some illegal drugs, and in a moment of bad decision-making, Scott agreed to do it. The mistake cost him dearly. He was arrested, charged with a felony, pleaded no contest, and sentenced to 10 years. He served seven years and eight months, then relocated to Delaware for a welding job. Welding? Did the once-promising lawyer feel bitter? No—he felt “grateful.”
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy NjQ0MA==