Note: For posterity, I'll be posting some of my pieces I wrote for my English classes this year. One great thing about taking two English classes (instead of just one) is that you practice all kinds of writing; before this year, I was most comfortable with research-style pieces, but now, I think creative stuff is pretty fun. This was a piece for a world literature prompt, about reflecting on failure. I kind of took the idea after watching the movie Dope, so there's that. Also, I hate using actual peoples' names on this blog, but at this point, there's so much personal stuff here that it's probably very easy for someone to guess who I am.
Somewhere, in a small suburban town near San Francisco, a short, nerdy Filipino kid reads a tattered textbook in a stuffy, cluttered bedroom. Let’s call him “A.” His whole life, A has lived in that little suburb, where nothing ever really happens. So, to fill his time, he takes a slew of AP classes: biology, chemistry, statistics, and more. People tell him he’s smart, but he doesn’t think so; he just says he works hard. His dream is to be the first scientist in his family.
Like most interested in science, A dreams of working in a lab and sees an internship as a great opportunity. One day, he asks his teacher, “Hey, I’m applying to this summer program. Could you write a letter of recommendation for me?” He spends weeks, then months, assembling his applications so they show his rigorous coursework, achievement, and extracurriculars in the field.
When he gets his first response, A is thrilled; his heart pumping, he reads it, shakes his head, and convinces himself that the next one will be different. But despite what his teachers tell him, his hard work doesn’t pay off. Week after week, a new email comes in, each with a similar message:
“Thank you for your interest, but you were not accepted.”
“This is not representative of your scientific ability.”
“We’re sorry, but there was simply not enough space to accept all who were qualified.”
Eventually, rejection after rejection, he gets used to reading the same words over and over again. Twelve emails later, what was once optimism becomes bitter cynicism.
As time goes on, A sees his classmates get accepted and he wonders: What did they do better than me? Was I just not good enough? What did my essays lack? Later, he discovers that most of those who got in already had family in science or the money to afford expensive programs.
With summer fast approaching, he desperately searches– was there any place left to go? On the whiteboard, he finds two flyers advertising summer camps at community colleges nearby. It’s not what he’s looking for, but it’s free, so he takes it anyway.
Two weeks after school is out, A finds himself on the 6:30 AM BART to Fremont: a two-hour trip each way. He hopes that, maybe, he’ll see someone he knows. He’s excited, but he’s also scared for what’s to come.
In Fremont, A meets the bus driver, “B”, a middle-aged man with a dark mustache and a wide grin. As they drive, they talk about their lives. B tells stories of his daughter– an art major– the people he’s driven, and his philosophy in general. Each day, they chat about something new on the ride to class, but by the end of the week, B is transferred to another route. Before he leaves, he tells A to remember one thing: “Be happy. Every day is a blessing, so just enjoy the fact that you’re alive.”
In class, A is the only person from his school; he knows no one. But one day, at lunch, he meets “C”. C is half-deaf, loves bowling, and all in all, a survivor. Because her mother has multiple sclerosis, her father works all day to support the family, leaving C alone to take care of herself. By academic standards, she isn’t smart– but A thinks she’s one of the most mature and empathetic people he’s ever met.
In those two weeks, A and C learn more about each other– their lives, their schools, their families, their plans for the future. They share the same love for science, but unlike A, C plans to go to a community college and transfer.
When the camp ends, they hug and know that they’ll never see each other again. Their goodbyes are bittersweet. As he watches her leave, A thinks about his school. Where he’s from, people would think that C has less of a future because she doesn’t have over a 2000 on the SAT or a 4.0 GPA. There, her plans for community college are equated with being a failure.
Days later, A finds himself at the second camp in Concord. This time, it’s a three-hour commute each way– he leaves home at 7:00 AM and returns at 7:00 PM. Again, he’s alone.
In time, he makes four friends from other cities. They each want to do something different with their lives: join the military, study engineering, or be a scientist, too. The last one has no idea what to do, but knows he enjoys film.
Together, they make the “D” team. An unlikely group, they work surprisingly well as a unit. Each person has a different skill: coming up with ideas, figuring out details, making art, refining it all, or offering moral support. Guiding them is “F”, a fresh graduate from the local community college. He’s been in school for an extra year, but still has a deep seated love for education. He recognizes the academic potential of each one in the group– even those that think college isn’t for them. At the end of the program, F reveals that he’s been accepted to graduate school at a prestigious university, despite his rough start.
Through it all, A wonders to himself: at school, they would never be friends. The D team is nowhere near as competitive or focused as he is; not all of them want to go to college or know what they want to do. Then, by his classmates’ standards, F shouldn’t be as successful as he is.
But the more A thinks about it, the more absurd everything sounds. In those four weeks, each person he’s met has revealed their own walk of life. They’ve all shown to him that there are so many destinations, with so many ways to arrive, with similar experiences throughout. No one is better than the other.
In the end, I am A. Living, breathing people are the other letters: B, C, D, and F. But in reality, each of us is more than a letter, or a number, or a score. We’re each a product of our surroundings, our families, our friends. We all have dreams, expectations for the future, and knowledge of different ideas.
B– Michael– taught me that people are worth caring about. C– Roslyn– taught me that everyone is smart in their own way. The D team– Dominick, Nicolette, Aashka, and Alvaro– taught me the importance of diversity, and how each person has something new to offer. Finally, F– Ross– taught me the most important lesson: there is always a way to reach your dream, even if it isn’t by the path everyone else follows.
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