Dear Blue Tumbling Mat, Wheelchairs, and a Computer

Scholastic 2019 Silver Key Winner
Dear blue tumbling mat, wheelchairs, and a computer,

Thank you.

Though it appears odd to thank inanimate objects, such as these, my life, and even more so my future, wouldn’t be the same without them.

The frigid January night stung my entire being as I was wheeled to the car. I closed my eyes as I tried to remember what happened. The bleak blueness of the tumbling mat and the intensifying pain which radiated from my hip were all I could seem to recall. That, and the echoing phrase “Your athletic career is finished.” from the doctor.

I tried to put my life together again after my cheerleading accident, but when the biggest and most important piece of the puzzle is gone, no amount of rearranging ever fills in the gaping hole that’s left. I felt as though my goals, and everything that gave me joy, were perpetually out of reach.

Realizing that life goes on, I turned to those whom I had always looked to in times of need to advise me through: writers. They taught me that life never gives just one joy, and for us to be able to discover new love and passions, we must put ourselves into unfamiliar and often simultaneously intimidating situations, leaving fear of failure behind.

Throughout the following year, I jumped into writing with both feet, leaving no room for hesitation. Writing for our school newspaper, Logos, opened the door for my work to be published in Hallmarks, our school’s literary magazine, as well as to be chosen for a Silver Key in the Scholastic Writing Competition.

Within time, authors had become my new coaches, and a computer took the place my pom poms.

I desired to expand on the craft I had come to love. During the fall of my junior year, I applied for an internship in New York City to focus on the editorial side of publishing through Winterim, a program offered at my high school which allows juniors and seniors to intern in a field which interests us. By a stroke of luck, Athlon Media granted me an internship.

On a bitter Winter morning following introductions, orientations, and first-day jitters, I settled into my desk to get started on my first task, reading through the final draft of Athlon’s Homes and Gardens magazine. As I worked, I stumbled upon a double space after a period. Although a simple careless error to most, for my boss, this was a crucial discovery. In that moment of bringing forward an error, I earned her trust. She saw that I cared more about the betterment of the magazine than self-pride or fear of failure, as well as a possessed a keen editor’s eye. That trust granted me the opportunity for my work published in the very magazine which I caught that initial error in.

Without that blue tumbling mat, I never would have fallen. I would have achieved my childhood goal of being a collegiate cheerleader. However, without that fall, without that mat, I never would have had the opportunity to step back from what I wanted to see what I needed.

Without a wheelchair, I never would have learned to see that life is about taking risks while you still have the chance. Not walking for three months is a humbling experience, and makes one ponder why we often allow our fear to dictate our success and future.

Like a pair of pom poms, my computer was the tool that gave me the confidence to tackle my new passion. The setbacks I faced following my injury allowed my path to become clear, and with the tools and lessons I was given from that fall, I found my future.