The ball flew speedily toward the ground, buzzers wildly rang, and the home side of the gym went wild. All encompassed in red, my face hot, my tear ducts filled with salty tears. On Evergreen’s senior night against Westmont, Westmont lost for the fourth year in a row. Throughout the evening, I was never able to contain myself: anxiety growing as either my body soullessly moved around the court in despair, or I stressfully pulled out my hair from the sideline. Post game debriefs with my father were messy, a side no one sees of me.
Sweaty palms gripped the side of my seat, the slideshows flipped to another new slide, and my anxious hand raised. Peers with the most random knowledge were scattered (not hidden) throughout Room 58. Journalism’s “The Crown” games brought out a side in me I wish Andy Evans did not have to meet. I never felt like myself.
One overarching trait ruthlessly controls my thoughts; I am plagued by my competitiveness. Over the course of my high school education, my competitiveness peaked out through activities I was involved in, my learning environment, and life experiences. I suffered silently as I held myself to standards no one is aware of. I am who I am because of my merciless mind.
Rather than competing with the people around me, I compete with myself. I might compare myself to others, but it only bolsters the monster inside of me, nagging that I did not have what it takes to finish an essay, or to show up to practice. I felt, and still feel inferior to all of my peers in my AP Literature class. Catapulting towards the end of my childhood, I learned that I function best when busy. High school taught me the balance for this tumultuous hobby I have of filling my schedule to the brim. In addition, I discovered and reimagined what I love to do!
Learning and growing at Westmont has taught me about accountability and how to aid my own education. Busier than a bee with sports, ASB, and AP classes (and a life?), I often was not competitive with myself. I did not foster a learning environment at home and failed to carry over my “excitement to learn” into my classroom seats. Holding myself accountable was difficult. Sophomore year SHARP, or Junior year AP Psychology study sessions simply blur together when recalling the little effort I put into my own work. I got good grades and graciously helped out my friends, but helping others would only hurt myself. Since elementary school, becoming a teacher has been a dream of mine; helping people is my preferred way to pass time (procrastinating on my own work). How can I dream to learn, but hate learning, but love it? I spent my “dedicated” SHARP time writing, or drafting, or editing my friends’ papers. I would typically be the one quizzing people about the different functions of the brain, but no one ever did for me. In actuality, I avoided benefiting myself. Slowly, I realized this did not work. It feels SO good to ace a test you did not cheat on, so do not cheat yourself out of education. As Eric Buran emphasizes to his AP Government students, educating yourself on what learning means for YOU is the most important skill to learn before leaving the confines of high school. Taylor your education to what works best for YOU. The Swift realization of this in August of 2023 shocked me; I have been doing it all wrong. Cheering for my victories and reflecting on my losses help me construct a more positive outlook on education, rather than doubting myself and hiding behind a bad grade with made-up excuses.
Being competitive is fun… Growing up with siblings, surrounding myself with friends, and posting my life on social media—competitiveness has naturally bolstered my resume of different skills. I know how to read people’s emotions, I know my limits with social boundaries, “I know.” Ask close friends of mine; I do not like to be corrected. I enjoy learning and growing, but hate the embarrassing factors that come with expanding my character. Being competitive, I was challenged when making friends—feeling left out or not as included—and when selecting activities to join. High school illuminates that not everything will turn out the way that you want; this taught me a greater patience and understanding of my peers and groups around me. My competitiveness helped me connect better with people when I actually learned how to harness it.
It is so high school to complain about homeworks, classes, friends, and teachers. But while in school, these are the people that you have. It is what you do with your energy and your dedication that makes your high school experience. Being competitive helped me personally grow, setting me up for a world I need to enter. I learned who I am! If for some reason, entering college, I feel lost, at least I know my Bill of Rights, right?