Personal Narrative-What Does It Means To Be Perfect

We were out for vengeance, and as the first heat came to a close, the three remaining teams lined up. Our team was Brandon Reid starting off the blocks, Isaiah running the second leg, me securing the third, and Bawa trying to end the race in strong fashion. As I loosened my legs up, the gun sounded, and I watched Brandon get off to a quick start. Before I knew it, Isaiah was 10m behind me and was ready to pass the baton. As I grabbed the baton from Isaiah, I noticed I was a few meters behind a kid from Avon. Never, ever again I thought. My legs planted and exploded off the ground in a simultaneous motion. I was like a cheetah chasing after a gazelle. As the wind blew through my cleanly cut hair, I began to close the gap between myself and the man ahead. In the closing 20m, I tried my hardest to catch the Avon kid, but I couldn’t. As I passed the baton to Bawa, my heart sank. As my chin dipped to my chest so I could only notice the ground, I realized I did not run the fastest 100m. At the end of the race, we finished second behind Avon, again. My arms tensed and my stomach dropped. Losing to Avon was the worst possible ending to my track season. However, my head would be picked up by a more important event that followed days after the Founders League Tournament.

Again, tryouts came for the next greuling school year. The only difference from last year, I was prepared. I knew the cheers, I knew the feeling of standing in front of crowd so ecstatic from a winning game and I knew the feeling of a crowd sitting at a loss for words in the face of defeat. I knew my goal and I was absolutely determined to reach it. I could only be described as a lioness on the prowl and the Varsity squad was my prey. Just as anxious as the year before, though this time with a hint of confidence, I made my tryout a culmination of completely everything I had learned from my wildly experienced past. That night, I reached my ultimate goal and earned the prized name of Varsity cheerleader. The next day I practically walked around with an enormous V on my forehead, honored by the position. With all this positivity, I knew there was something to come. That same summer, I hadn’t received a lucky chance to become even a contender in the

Our school was never very good at sports and only about five girls would be cut. I was jittery the day that the varsity roster was to be posted; I wanted nothing more than to be part of the team. After classes ended, I walked to the athletic board, where the varsity roster would be posted. I anxiously scanned the list for my name. I scanned it again. As my eyes ran over the page a third time, my heart began to sink. I hadn’t made the team. I was one of five girls who were cut from the varsity team. In a daze, I went to practice. Instead of focusing like I usually did, I went through the motions. The five of us who made up the junior varsity team had a separate practice with the assistant coach. After the sting of failure finally faded, I began to work harder than before. I showed up early to practice and stayed late every day. Every weekend I spent at least two hours on the field practicing. I was determined to make the coaches regret putting me on the “JV” team. As the season ended, I didn’t stop working to become better. Any day that was not too cold, I could be found on the field. When spring came, I joined the soccer team, hoping to improve on my endurance and speed. Over the summer, I spent at least two hours every day running and practicing. When the field hockey season rolled back around, I was ready to show off my skills and make the varsity

Even with migraines, I challenged myself to be athletic and played a vast amount of sports like basketball, tennis, soccer, track, etc. Conversely, in my sophomore year of high school, I was filled with self-doubt when it came to trying out for the JV volleyball team. Being that my schedule consisted of: Advanced Placement, Dual Enrollment, and honors classes made playing a sport non recommendable by counselors and teachers. In addition, I was not the typical height of the average volleyball player, which made others much more critical of my actions. Being told that I have too much on my plate or “not the look” to be a volleyball player, filled me with self-doubt and made me second guess my choices. Luckily, I did not let others make decisions for me. Little did I know, I was opening the gym doors for tryouts in no time. The floors were freshly waxed and the clean white net stood tall in the middle of the gym, dividing the court evenly. I stood nervously with a smooth leather ball in hand, reciting drills and methods I learned off the court in my head. The thrill rushed through my nerves the next day when I went through those same gym doors officially on the junior varsity volleyball team. A passion arose in me when something that I was close to not trying at all, was a part of my everyday activity. The fact that the negativity I encountered about trying for

In high school, I was involved in volleyball, basketball, and softball. Throughout my whole venture, I had this one coach who followed me through every sport. Her name was Coach Lolly Arevalo. She was five feet tall, dark skinned, big green eyes, and a little muscular body, she had a masculine voice that terrified all the athletes every time she scolded us. “Do not stop till I blow this whistle,” those words motivated each and every one of us not to stop. The very first game I had my freshmen year in volleyball was a big, extraordinary moment in my life. When we walked into the gym that night to warm up before the other team arrived, butterflies began to flourish in my stomach as the excitement began to kick in. The bleachers were filled with people wearing red and white shirts, friends holding fan signs with your name, and family members who wanted to see you play the game you love. The excitement I was developing become even more known when the other team arrived. The girls looked as though they wanted to smash your face

High school sports are a good pass time for high school kids, it keeps some out of trouble or gets kids out of the house. On the other hand high school sports have gotten very serious, instead of just having fun. It’s turned into if you don’t win then what’s the point, it not for the fun. It’s been drilled into everyone heads that they have to be a really good player and their only way they’re getting into college is through sports. Everyone dream is to play for a division I team, which that’s not a bad goal to have but in reality not every athlete can go division I. High school athletes have this mentality that they have to win all the time or be the best they put a lot of pressure on themselves. Not in all cases but, if someone wants to

This past summer, I had the opportunity to serve as intern at a summer camp for blind children. Knowing that, despite their disadvantages, there was no excuse for a lack of effort, I witnessed them perform tasks that I had previously believed to be impossible without sight. Cooking, for example, was done with ease, so long as the children had confidence in themselves and their abilities. Through observation, the themes of effort and ambition became abundantly apparent. Similarly, my athletic career has displayed these themes. My introduction to sports began at age three with soccer. Though too young to acknowledge the presence of deeper meanings at the time, soccer had embodied the ideals of effort and ambition within me. These two principles

While preparing for tryouts, I was expected to condition for two hours every day, playing and exercising vigorously. Once tryouts came along, I was in my best shape physically, but mentally, I still feared I wasn't good enough. Luckily, I was wrong to doubt myself because I made the team. All three teams spent hours practicing together, which made me nervous because most of the girls were more experienced. Even though I made more mistakes than the varsity players, they always encouraged me. Because of this, I became a better player and person. As the ancient Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu stated, “If you want to lead the people, you must learn how to follow them.” By allowing me to make mistakes without making me feel like a complete failure, the varsity players set a good example of leadership. Since they were understanding and did not assume an attitude of superiority, I was inspired to be humble and compassionate toward others. Honestly, I am glad I persevered through the tough times because it has taught me the necessary lessons to be a great role model. I hope I can motivate girls to not only play volleyball but to also express the importance of transferring the life lessons learned from the game to their everyday

Participation in sports has steadily increased throughout the decades. As more and more major professional sports franchises continue to eclipse the one billion mark in value, the fame and wealth that can be obtained by reaching the profession ranks becomes irresistible to many students who have a passion for athletics. For some of these students, reaching the professional ranks is way to pull their family out of the lower class, and into the higher echelon of the upper class. For others, simply competing against the best in the world is a dream come true. The National Federation of State High School Association (NFHS), as reported a twenty-six year increase in the participation of high school athletics (NFHA, 2015). As the general popularity of athletics increases, so does the level of participation in high school athletics. The odds of making the professional ranks, however, are slim to none, as only 6% of high school student-athletes go on to play at the collegiate level (NCAA, 2015). Therefore, states, communities, educators, and parents continue to stress academics before athletics. In fact, when we address athletes in school, we address them as student-athletes.

At tryouts all I wanted was to be on that team. All I thought had to do to reach my next goal was work hard. I remember walking down that back stairwell, full of students, rushing to get to the clear front doors of the school, where the list that my goal depended on was surrounded by my teammates. I used my height to my advantage and peeked over the crowd. My anticipation was quickly crushed, though, by an all encompassing sadness of not making the core team, but secondary one. That sadness quickly morphed into an unbridled anger. I was angry at myself, my teammates, God, but especially my coach, who I would later find out made promises to parents from the past season that their children would be starters. I never let the anger show during that forgotten season, I made some good memories and grew closer to people I thought I couldn't, but that anger was bottled up and needed escape. I needed revenge and that came in the form of club volleyball. I made the top team, and grew exponentially as a player, even playing on an older team for nationals. I came back ready for that next school season. I walked into the air conditioned, orange lighted, smelly, old gym full of confidence. I could do anything and no one was going to stop me from reaching my goal. I did make the core team that year. My goal I’d wanted for a year was completed and yet left me feeling unsatisfied and wanting more. These memories block out many others I’ve made in a wonderful six year volleyball career. It has formed me into the volleyball player I am today and that unsatisfied feeling gave way one of my next goals now, to play volleyball for a collegiate program at a division one school. But the only way to get that dream, as I have learned so many times, is work hard, pursue what you want, and never let anyone decide your fate for you, because if they do, it won't fulfill the goals you have chosen for

This was my first volleyball camp at Michigan Tech University this summer and I was ready. Coaches sorted us into teams, taught us some intermediate skills revolving around the technique of the game, and scrimmaging from time to time. My team leader was Ali Gerring, a recent graduate from Kingsford. We did bump-set-spike drills and six different rotations to get ready for our big scrimmage the next day. You could see the sweat glistening on our faces, and smell the hard determination to improve. You could hear players call for the ball at every court yelling, “Mine, mine mine!”

A few months ago late in August 2016, the most nerve racking day of my life was approaching. This was the day after Woodbury High School's three day volleyball tryouts, and I had to wait two terrible hours to see if I had been cut or made a team. The teams would be posted on the doors inside the activity entrance of WHS at 12 o'clock sharp. Previously, the three days of tryouts lasted four hours each, it was held on four courts that felt as though you were in the sahara desert when playing. The courts ranged from beginner to advanced, so some days I would do great on the worst court. The coaches would constantly move me around which nearly gave me a heartattack.

I had spent most of my childhood happy, without much pain or adversity; as a result, the moment I learned I did not make the Junior Varsity volleyball team my freshman year, I was especially devastated. When I showed up on our first day of tryouts I was excited. I looked forward to playing volleyball all summer with my friends. I worked hard, and I felt really confident at the end of the two weeks; certain that I had made the Junior Varsity team. The coaches took me to a secluded room and sat me down to explain which team I had made. I was almost already thanking them, not realizing that they were telling me, "We think that your skills at the moment would shine best on JV2; work on your technique and practice being a leader.”

Joining the varsity volleyball team was my greatest accomplishments as a freshman. Unfortunately, I was the shortest on the team. My teammates and coach often berated me because of my height, thus causing me to become discouraged. To me my height represented my playing abilities, it was as if my team was degrading me for my playing ability, rather than my height. I began to practice harder than ever before, I practiced from my freshman year to my senior year, continuously. Four years of consistent exercise and practice of basic volleyball skills enabled me to become the best player on my team, yet I was still receiving offensive remarks from my team regarding my height. After recognizing that no matter how stupendous my playing abilities were,

Setbacks are a natural part of life that, yet it seems like I have had more than my share. In my short seventeen years of living, I have encountered more obstacles than most girls my age. Though I have encountered multiple setbacks, I have never stopped reaching for my dream. Since I was young, I’ve had the desire to grow up and become a collegiate volleyball player. I was told by numerous coaches that I had a natural talent, things came easy to me. Though the game of volleyball came easy to me, the obstacles I have faced throughout my career were not easy. I have been through countless injuries which led to multiple seasons sitting out. I have battled the adversity that has come my way, I have never backed down, my dream remains the same.