Blind Optimism by Flannery

Blind Optimism by Flannery - December 2013 Scholarship Essay

I wiped my forehead with the pink blanket she had been screaming for, as I rushed back into the now empty room. My heart started to race, and I wondered where such a small pair of legs could have taken her in the mere two seconds I tore my eyes away. I poked my head out the door, not wanting to draw too much attention to the situation, and there she was, sitting on a pile of blocks, smirking at me. The feeling of potentially “losing a kid” never really went away; it was the same sunken feeling every time Zoe decided she was bored, or needed a new game to play. She recognized the look of failure on my face, knowing she had won…again. I was sure she had tired of her reign of terror and that making me run around like a fool had to be getting old. Yet, the sight of that scrunched up little nose assured me that I was very wrong. Zoe's flickering eyes told me that I should get comfortable with failure and that I may never succeed again. However, as it would seem, being a puppet in Zoe's endless comedy act, turned into one of the best experiences of my life.

In an attempt to bulk up my volunteer hours, I reached out to one of my family friends, who was a dentist, to see if he knew of anyone he needed an intern. Expecting an office-job, or possibly something in a medical practice, I was excited to hear that he did have something in mind. However, to my not-so-fortunate surprise, he said his best friend owned a daycare in Roseland, NJ, and that he would put a call in for me. As prompt and punctual than ever, my family friend gets back to me the next day, saying that his friend would love to have me put in volunteer hours at the daycare. The eager and willing girl that I was, I agreed with sparkles of blind optimism in my voice and arranged plans to go into the daycare Monday right after school.

I walked into The Pampered Child daycare, uncertain, feeling heavy in my Chuck Taylor's. Zoe was one of ten toddlers, who had all become the bane of my existence. The hands of my watch no longer said 3, 4, and 5 PM, but instead read "snack time", "check the diapers", and "clean up!". Although I had been working here for almost a year, I still had extreme difficulty understanding how one tiny human could need so many things at once. And so as hostile cries turned to cooperation and giggles, my objection turned to eventual tolerance. Zoe, the alpha-toddler, and I formed a sort of respect for each other. We held an occasional civil moment, as I tried to delve into the mind of this vicious ruler and two year old conversationalist. Finally, I became lighter on my feet, with a new-found sinking in my gut. I caught myself looking at them, wondering what they would be when they were older, where they would be applying to college, and what their parents packed them for snack that day. Even so, as I spent more time with these waddling hazards, I became hopelessly devoted to their simple, yet brilliant remarks; to the way they told me their diapers were "too tight", and to their ability of never hearing the word "no". There was simply no turning back now, as these tiny humans were now an essential part of my life. They had relentlessly and unknowingly crafted my unknown medical destiny into a pediatric ward. My desire to help people only became more specific; it turned into a need to help the little people. Thomas the Train, teething, and Desitin now interrupted my future in medicine. It seemed that the accuracy of my beliefs and prior reluctance had been very misguided, as this extra curricular opportunity was the best thing to ever happen to me. Of course, I never expected The Pampered Child to hold so many answers, just as I did not plan to fall in love with those angelic demons, who I may never be able to live without again.