Failure Builds Compassion by Kiara

Failure Builds Compassion by Kiara - February 2017 Scholarship Essay

When I was younger, I loved soccer. I played for a club select soccer team for several years, and I joined the high school team when I started high school. Soccer was a large part of my life for a total of eleven years. I spent at least twenty minutes every single day practicing soccer, and I even practiced after regular soccer practice. In high school I quit band and other afterschool activities so I could focus on soccer. I joined the Spokane Soccer Academy practices outside of school. I planned on playing in college, and my parents signed me up on NSCA, an online program that helps connect you to college scouts. Soccer was my life.
Everything changed at the end of my sophomore year. My club team was playing an away game, and the first five minutes of the game had already passed. It was a normal Saturday in April; the hazy sunshine rested lightly on my shoulders. I was the center defender, my usual position. I watched as a forward dribbled past the defender on my left. I sprinted up to her, intercepting her, and managed to kick the ball away from her into the out-of-bounds. As my left leg was outstretched and twisted, I planted my foot and heard a loud pop. My leg buckled under my weight and I fell to the ground as fire spread through my knee.
MRI results later showed I tore all three ligaments, my ACL, MCL, and meniscus, in my knee. I needed surgery. And after surgery, nine months of recovery. At the start of those months, I fell into a minor depression and my parents sent me to a counselor to help me. That didn’t seem to help. What helped was thinking about when I would get to play again, talking to my physical therapist, and trying new hobbies, like playing the piano. When the nine months of recovery were over, I was finally able to play again. Unfortunately, a month into playing club soccer, I strained my hip and groin. I sat out for another month and went back to recovery again. I was determined not to get injured again and to play for the high school team. When I finally came back, two weeks into playing soccer again, I strained the same knee I had had surgery on.
How could this have happened? Each time I tried so diligently to recover from my injury I continued to receive injury after injury. It was not fair. This final injury gave me a message: no more soccer. I was so upset and felt wronged. Fortunately, my friends and family supported me during this stage. I learned that in hard times, you should bring people closer to you instead of pushing them away. Instead of playing soccer, I rejoined band and volunteered at new places. I got a job at Albertson’s. I made so many new friends in band and at Albertson’s and to this day I enjoy the difficulties of learning and practicing a new instrument. Because I endured so many months of physical therapy, I finally realized what I wanted to do in the future. I want to become a physical therapist and help other injured people like me to recover. Although most people may not have the same injuries as me, I am eager to help people going through similar traumas. My physical therapist helped me feel better when others couldn’t because he knew how it felt to have to quit a sport and he had helped others with similar problems. He inspired me to want to help others and feel compassionate for them. I am much happier now than I ever was during the first two years of my high school. Perhaps because I focus on my friends more often and my family too instead of just soccer. Because I failed at soccer, I was able to improve my life overall, and I have never been happier.