When Comfortable is no longer a Comfort by Josh

When Comfortable is no longer a Comfort by Josh - May 2018 Scholarship Essay

As fingers clacked surreptitiously, a pale blue light caught my glance, and I became aware of a silence louder than small talk, casual conversation, and even the most genuine laughter. When you run out of things to say, silence brazenly reminds you time and time again that your conversation has stagnated, your relationship has stagnated, and perhaps even you have stagnated. Looking up to find a pair of friendly eyes, for a glance of solidarity, I soon shifted my gaze despairingly to the clock high above on the wall, having found my freshmen mentees' eyes absorbed in the Daily Mail, Snapchat, and wherever else held their attention.

At the end of junior year, I volunteered to be a senior mentor, to advise a group of seven freshmen on anything high school might throw their way, academically or socially. I found that my greatest challenge was connecting with them, and I soon fell into the habit of allowing our weekly fifteen-minute period to pass without any effort at meaningful connections. It felt more natural to will time away then to venture a question or two, opening myself up to the awkward embarrassment of silence, or worse, rejection.

Yet, I soon found that what was comfortable ceased to be a comfort; rather than be passive, I altered my perception of making mistakes. I took more risks -- breaking homework-tired silence with a tongue and cheek, “So...how is everyone?,” or reaching far, far beyond the outermost bounds of my knowledge to discuss theatre, horseback riding, football, and everything in between. I would do anything in an effort to engage my freshmen, hoping to see how they would express their passions. I refer to many of these risks as “mistakes” because they often failed and begot more silence, communicating that teenage indifference to being grilled on life. Their expressions said it all: “Josh, it’s not even eight in the morning and all I want to do is sleep!” But these mistakes and ‘failures’ were far from negative. In fact, they only served to catalyze my motivation to connect with these kids, increasing my interest in their passions and in discovering who they are as people.

Beyond the episode of my mentee group, I have come to enjoy taking risks in social situations. Sitting in fifteen minutes of silence is reminiscent of the time I didn’t sit next to her on the bus and the night I turned out the lights and left his text unread. These missed opportunities fill me with an emptiness that I am compelled to fill. My desire to remedy the mistake gives me the confidence I need to overcome my uncomfortable shyness and just interact.