Giddy toddlers, stressed out parents, and a flock of 8,000 teenagers in suits. This was the scene when I traveled to Orlando for DECA’s International Competition. One afternoon my group of friends and I had about eight hours to spare. We decided to go to the magical world of Disney. However, traveling with four teenage boys with no sense of direction and the maturity level of a 5-year-old was anything but magical. As I was attempting to herd these boys like sheep to get to into the line to Space Mountain, before it got longer than the women’s bathroom line at a Justin Bieber concert, one of them came up to me, hugged me and told me I was the best mom he ever had. Ever since then, they call me mom. No, I don’t have children, yet somehow I still
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I haven’t always fit in the stereotypical high school setting. I hate small talk, and people who don’t know who the two candidates for the presidential election are, makes my head spin. However, going down to Boy’s State showed me that there are others like me out there. It also showed me even in a group of highly intellectual people I could still lead, and lead effectively. For instance, I walked into my dorm on the first day expecting to be the lowest rung on the totem pole, surrounded by child prodigies and future presidents. However, after sitting and talking to my fellow citizens for a few minutes, I realized they were all just like me, and very surprisingly they all looked to me for direction. Picture this: 40 sweaty, smelly boys crammed into a room built for twenty trying to figure out who to elect as mayor of a fictional city. If you could see this picture, if you look closely you’d find in the middle of it is one dashingly handsome boy giving direction to the others, eyes full of surprise that people are following his direction. Imagine a boy who looks so happy to be doing the things he loves, smile beaming from ear to ear as he debates public policy while also parenting these same 40 boys. That boy was me down in Orlando; that boy was me at Boy’s …show more content…
This was working great for about a month until the stress of 6 workouts a week, and balancing 4 AP classes started to affect my play on the field and my grades in the classroom.
About four months later, I received another call from my club coach informing me that he no longer thought I had the ability to play at the next level, of course, devastating news. But, unfortunately, he was right. All of the schools I was in contact with had slowly lost interest. I started to realize that my dream was officially dead. Now, this was a lot harder of a pill to swallow than I had expected, mostly because I wasn’t used to dealing with failures of this magnitude. However, coping with this and figuring out what I could do to make sure nothing like this ever happened again allowed me to mature immensely.
First, I took some time with myself to figure out what I wanted. Not what my parents, or friends, or society wanted, but what I wanted. I knew by doing this I would have a better sense of direction going into college and my young adult life. Second, I looked at all the things I was putting effort into and wrote down what I could do to make sure I didn’t fail at them like I did baseball. Lastly, I went through and cut out unnecessary parts of my life, parts of my life that didn’t lead me towards my future goals. This allowed me to hone in on what
I haven’t always fit in the stereotypical high school setting. I hate small talk, and people who don’t know who the two candidates for the presidential election are, makes my head spin. However, going down to Boy’s State showed me that there are others like me out there. It also showed me even in a group of highly intellectual people I could still lead, and lead effectively. For instance, I walked into my dorm on the first day expecting to be the lowest rung on the totem pole, surrounded by child prodigies and future presidents. However, after sitting and talking to my fellow citizens for a few minutes, I realized they were all just like me, and very surprisingly they all looked to me for direction. Picture this: 40 sweaty, smelly boys crammed into a room built for twenty trying to figure out who to elect as mayor of a fictional city. If you could see this picture, if you look closely you’d find in the middle of it is one dashingly handsome boy giving direction to the others, eyes full of surprise that people are following his direction. Imagine a boy who looks so happy to be doing the things he loves, smile beaming from ear to ear as he debates public policy while also parenting these same 40 boys. That boy was me down in Orlando; that boy was me at Boy’s …show more content…
This was working great for about a month until the stress of 6 workouts a week, and balancing 4 AP classes started to affect my play on the field and my grades in the classroom.
About four months later, I received another call from my club coach informing me that he no longer thought I had the ability to play at the next level, of course, devastating news. But, unfortunately, he was right. All of the schools I was in contact with had slowly lost interest. I started to realize that my dream was officially dead. Now, this was a lot harder of a pill to swallow than I had expected, mostly because I wasn’t used to dealing with failures of this magnitude. However, coping with this and figuring out what I could do to make sure nothing like this ever happened again allowed me to mature immensely.
First, I took some time with myself to figure out what I wanted. Not what my parents, or friends, or society wanted, but what I wanted. I knew by doing this I would have a better sense of direction going into college and my young adult life. Second, I looked at all the things I was putting effort into and wrote down what I could do to make sure I didn’t fail at them like I did baseball. Lastly, I went through and cut out unnecessary parts of my life, parts of my life that didn’t lead me towards my future goals. This allowed me to hone in on what