Don't Just Keep Swimming by Christienne

Don't Just Keep Swimming by Christienne - July 2016 Scholarship Essay

Imagine an ocean. All people are swimming in that ocean. All of them have to keep treading water in order to survive or drown. Either way, they’re trapped and lost in a vast ocean with no sight of anything. They just have to keep swimming. They’re forced to play the game of survival, but in this game, everyone’s success is the same. Don’t drown. Today’s youth are taught to plan ahead for success, even though success seems to be the same for many of us. Get a job, and don’t overspend. I did not know this at the time, but a teacher helped me realize that I’m not one that only wants to survive.
When I walked the halls of high school as a freshman, I only sought to do well in school. Firmly implanted in my brain was to succeed in school in order to succeed in college and eventually, succeed in life. Having a family, getting a job that paid well, and making my parents proud was a sensible purpose with concrete plans and a considerable amount of determination to execute, but there was no sense of satisfaction in this idea. I didn’t feel any sort of excitement when I thought about my future. I felt numb.
On the first days of class, I met Mr. Martin. He taught a seminar on the parts of the Catholic mass since the school held a mass every month, and many of the new students were not familiar with the Catholic tradition. At the time, he never seemed to stand out. He always wore beige or gray. His slender body made him look tall. His gray hair and scruff on his face gave off a sense of wisdom. I did not think much of him at the time. Thinking about it, I didn’t think much of anyone at the time.
Time passed. I had no friends. I did really well in my classes. I’m still swimming. On one very fateful day, Mr. Martin pulled me out of class. He found it interesting that I played piano, which I wrote down in a survey sheet. He pulled out sheet music for “Glory to God”, and he asked me if I could learn this by the next mass. Confused and anxious, I don’t remember saying much. I don’t even remember accepting the offer. Suddenly, I sat at a piano after school for the rest of the week and practiced. I still did not think much of this man other than the fact that he stressed me out until the day of mass when I felt like I was about to faint.
I was excused from my eighth period class when I entered the gym where everything was set for mass. The piano was next to the altar, in front of everyone. I sat down in front of the keys, and my heart violently beat as if I felt the bass at a concert. Another pianist, Kandace, tried to help me to relax. She didn’t succeed. Mr. Martin stood next to me as he tuned his guitar, almost ready to perform. As I waited for my turn, my heart continued to beat furiously and rapidly. My hands shook. My face probably looked pale, and my leg couldn’t stop shaking. I’m still swimming, but something touched my leg.
Like all new and exciting things, they can be difficult to remember later on. Looking back, my performance was a blur. My adrenaline probably kicked in because I can’t remember anything. I think people fell asleep. I’m pretty sure I made a lot of mistakes. There were probably moments of indescribable fear and anxiety during certain passages of the song. Then, I was done. I sat beside the piano watching a sea of people, trying to read their facial expressions as if anyone actually paid attention.
After mass, Kandace hugged me as a congratulatory welcome to the choir. Mr. Martin smiled and thanked me. It wasn’t until I was walking to my locker when a lot of my classmates started congratulating me, saying they loved the performance. I didn’t say much except thank them
Throughout the years, I continued to perform at masses and it became a place of expression and inspiration. I felt like I was a part of something much greater than myself. Throughout my junior and senior year, I had a lot of friends in the choir, and I was constantly in awe of the talent and artistry of everyone. Seeing Mr. Martin smile in pride of the choir, watching students sing and clap during the mass, and finally understanding the change of fate made me excited for my future. Although I was still swimming in the ocean, I was able to see an island, a place of purpose. The game of survival ended for me because of Mr. Martin. I found purpose in being inspired by other people instead of competing for a job or college acceptances. I found purpose in using my talents for the joy of others. Many generations held the idea of surviving, but I don’t want to just survive. By action, Mr. Martin was able to teach me that it’s important to stop, look, and take a chance. Otherwise, You’re numb and unaware of the world around you. You’re in your bubble of success, and it’s harder to see what makes life worth living.