Personal Narrative-Stress In High School

It was a Monday morning and we, the students of Memphis Business Academy, were returning back to school from our diligent weekends. The majority of the kids were attempting to get to class or find their friends to converse with them in the hallways before the bell rang, but I had one thing on my mind. I wanted to find the chart with the names of those who made the majorette team. I examined every wall to see where they were, while trying to contain my increasing anxiety. When I finally found them posted outside of the gym, I closed my eyes and uttered a small prayer before opening them back to what would soon become, what I thought, was one of the most devastating moments of my sixth grade year. I scanned the chart about fifty times before
I finally accepted the fact that my name just wasn’t on it. I literally could feel my heart on top of my shoes. It was like someone had come and ripped my soul out of my chest just to hand it back to me, leaving me with the pain of it all. I tried my best to hold back the tears that were threatening to erupt, but failed miserably. The very first time I decided to step out of my comfort zone and try something new, I proved to myself why I had never done it before. For me, this wasn’t just an “oh well” moment. No, this was the end of my life. I attended practice every day, I never complained about the long hours of nonstop dancing, and I finished the final dance with everything I had.
How did I, of all people, not make the team? Not only did I feel heartbroken, but I felt embarrassed. All of my friends and other students who knew me would know that I didn’t make the team. This failure hurt everything in me. It swallowed every bit of confidence I had when I walked in the school that morning. Once I finally got over the situation, I learned a few things that day that I will never forget. I learned that despite my hostility toward not making the team, I couldn’t give up like I didn’t have anything else going for me. I learned that life moves on and though I will encounter many instances of failure throughout the years, I have to evolve, adapt, and progress. Also, I realized that it was just my sixth grade year and that with more practice and aging, I could audition again the next year. I learned that the moment I deemed abominable, at the time, ultimately turned out to be beneficial. It made me tenacious and persistent in everything I do. Now when I encounter failure, I use it as motivation to try again. For me, it’s an opportunity to show growth and progression; that hence my failure I still won’t give
up.