Why I Play Tennis, 1.5 year later reflection

One of my first few posts on this blog back in 2015 was titled Why I Play Tennis.  The essence of that post highlighted the importance of remaining resilient on the court in a match, and that yes, you can come back even if your down by a significant margin. My post talked about mental fortitude and the power of persistence in the game of tennis.  That was my opinion of the sport 1.5 years ago.  Yesterday, I participated in my first USTA Girl’s 16’s match and I can certainly re-enforce the impacts of positive thinking, but I think my view of the game has changed recently.  

Yesterday, after I hit that last high backhand shot out wide onto the right sideline, this odd feeling came to me: I felt like a tennis player.   It’s weird that I’m saying this because I am and have always been a “tennis” player.  I say this because in the past, I’ve always been very defensive on the court due to nervousness.  I don’t play many tournaments like other competitive players do, so when I finally find the opportunity to sign up and play, my nerves hit me and I end up losing to myself.  I find my arm tightening up and as a result, my form for each stroke changes.  My shots lack a follow through so I frequently end up hitting high and loopy moon balls, which leaves a perfect opportunity for my opponents to attack me.  The biggest part of my nervousness came through being afraid to hit like I normally hit in practice and make a mistake. I remember countless matches where I’d be in the car thinking to myself, why am I so much better in practice?  The consistent answer to that question is because I was afraid to play my A game since I didn’t want to make a mistake.  Instead, I opted for a more defensive, more consistent but less aggressive strategy that left me prone to being attacked by the person across the net.  Nonetheless, even through all my losses, I possessed the resilient mentality I discovered through tennis that I wrote about in my previous post about tennis.  Yesterday, I discovered that wasn’t enough.

My dad has been trying to teach me this for as long as I remember.  During tournaments, I play too defensively and my nervousness leads me to make more mistakes.  Dad said that it doesn’t matter if the ball goes out or not if I hit my hardest and give each shot my everything, because it’s better than having my opponent win the point through their control, rather than me making a mistake.  My dad was telling me that I can’t be afraid to make a mistake, in fact, it doesn’t matter if I make a mistake as long I am playing my A game.  He also said that he would rather see me lose putting forth my best game than win by hitting unnecessarily defensive moon balls.

At my tournament yesterday afternoon, I played believing that it was okay to make mistakes and I lost but I had to give my opponent my A game.  I hit each shot as well as I could and tried to place each shot in a tactical a position as possible.  And my shots were no longer loopy moon balls…they were aggressive, shaped shots with a generous amount of spin.  Not only did I play more like I play in practice, but I played more aggressively by going up to the net a couple times and by using my backhand slice, even though both these shots weren’t always successful.  And even though I lost, I lost satisfied with my playing and feeling like a tennis player, since I’d put forth the skills I’d accrued through practices.

And here’s the epiphany I had that was enforced through yesterday’s tournament: I’m not always going to be successful.   I believe sports in general teach players this idea, but tennis in particular emphasizes this understanding because [in singles at least], we are almost always in charge of how we hit the ball and mistakes are usually our responsibility to a certain degree since tennis can be a very individual sport. When something goes wrong, it is very easy to blame ourselves.  But I’m learning, not only in tennis but through tennis, that I’m not always going to be successful. I have to prepare for failure in all aspects of life.  And that’s okay, because as long as I give it my all, I’ll be losing satisfactorily.  

So here's why I play tennis: it helps develop mental fortitude but also because it's teaching me that I'm not always going to be successful. Yet once again I come back to this idea, nothing worth having comes without struggle.

Why does it seem smaller? What I outgrew and what I'm approaching ahead.

I venerate walking.  I value the mental benefits and the physical benefits, and on days when running is too intense, walking is a quintessential replarock .  Even then, I walk everyday.

I take the same route every day: to town center and back which totals 2 miles.  I find that time alone allows my mind to relax and focus on other ideas I would otherwise have little time to muse.  Something that perpetually re-enters my thoughts is high school.  

This week in particular, I’ve been intrigued with the diverse selection of clubs that Andover offers.  And when I say “diverse”, I mean I was looking on their 2016-17 list of clubs and they have everything from Film Club to Alzheimers Awareness Club, from Rock Climbing Club to the school newspaper The Phillipian, from Andover Business Club to Big Data Analytics Club.  High school…it’s only 2 months away, standing in the distance.  It seems big.  It’s intimidating.  And it’s most certainly not rainbows and butterflies.   I know I’ll need to expect setbacks and failure.

However, that particular afternoon, I decided to take a different walking route and I revisited a pond I live close to.  When I was younger [about 4-ish] I remember my mom and dad used to talk me for walks here.  I remember there being a resting area on the edge of the pond that has white pebbles, a tall flag pole and beds of beautiful red flowers planted around the flagpole.  In addition, there was a horseshoe rock wall that separated the flagpole from the pond about 3 feet tall and a foot thick.  Being younger, I remember picking up the white, dry and chalky pebbles and crushing them in my small fingers.  I remember wandering around the red [tulip?] flowerbed, smelling every flower, watching bees dance through the beds.  I also remember climbing that 3 foot tall, 1 foot thick rock wall.  The rock wall wasn’t pure and contained many protruding large rocks and I remember scraping my knees along those rocks as a four year old trying to climb something one foot above my head. It seemed like paradise in the summertime, walking around the flowerbed, smelling every flower that somebody graciously planted there, climbing the rock  wall and looking out into the pond, grazing my knees against the rough blackish rock all under a fluffy clouded blue sky.  

The rest area in the winter.  Flowers usually grow within the first around the flagpole.

But it was different this past week.  Everything looked smaller.  Everything felt smaller.   The entire resting area was smaller.  The flagpole shorter.   The flower bed farther and smaller.  The rough rock  wall even felt shorter.  Physically, I know I’ve grown taller since I was four years old, but I think I’ve also mentally outgrown this rest area.  It was paradise for me as a four year old.  I found pleasure in looking at colorful flowers in the summertime, climbing the horseshoe shaped rock wall and crushing white pebbles in  my stubby fingers.  Now, when I look at these flowers and they’re not so extraordinary anymore.  

I’m trying to contrast this with high school.  It seems so big and humongous ahead of me, like the rest area by the pond once seemed, big, luminous and mysterious.  But now, 10 years later upon revisit, it feels smaller and I’ve become accustomed to it’s feel that it no longer feels like big and mysterious.  I suppose high school is going to be like this, luminous and scary at first, but [hopefully] gradually, I’ll get the hang of it.  

4th of July

To this day I’m not quite sure what happened on the night of the fourth of July…I just teared up at night.  I’ve written about crying before and how sometimes it can be a good thing, however my previous post on this nature was more focused towards crying when I encounter a setback.  I cried spontaneously on the night of the 4th of July while lying in bed.

It’s an inveterate evening ritual: open my window a solid 3 inches, hop into bed and turn off my bedside lamp.  I sleep with my window open and on the fourth of July, I never fail to hear the sound of booms and blasts reverberating into my window from distant fireworks.  Sometimes I would hear a chain of fireworks exploding together. Other times, I would hear the fading sound of one lonely firework explode.  

This year though, I was listening to the soundtrack of Breakfast At Tiffany’s, which I had just watched two nights ago. Here’s where I felt tears rush to my eyes.  In retrospect, I fear I might’ve been crazy, lying in bed in the dark, listening to ‘Moon River’, replaying the final scene when the music was played in the movie in my head, listening to fireworks in the

distance, and absentmindedly trying to wipe the tears off my face.  I still don’t know whether I was crying because of Holly Golightly’s epiphany that “life is a fact” and that we can’t keep chasing after impracticable things [for Holly, it’s marrying a man purely for money, hoping inexistent love came in the package] or because the music was sorely touched me, or because I heard the same fireworks I hear once every year.  Perhaps it was a blend of everything.

  

Who I am and who I would have been

My past three years at BB&N have shaped me into a different person.  I’m more open-minded when it comes to encountering new possibilities, certainly more knowledgeable as I apply information I’ve learned from school into real life situations, I’ve developed opinions about certain world issues, I’ve been exposed to casual language, my sense of style has evolved as I’ve written about before, my perception of friendship has changed, and I’ve experienced being in a classroom with all different sorts of people, each of whom contribute something different into the pool of discussion.

But yesterday, I kept wondering who I would be if life hadn’t taken the path it did?  I transferred schools from Belmont Day School to Chenery Middle School in fifth grade and then in sixth grade I entered BB&N.  Who would I be if I’d stayed at Belmont Day and not left until middle school graduation?  Who would I be if I’d stayed at Chenery?  I know I wouldn’t have gone to BB&N if either of these two paths had been taken, but I wonder how these two very different communities I’d been in involved with previously would have shaped me differently? I do not know my previous two schools well enough to guess how I would have been different, after all, I had never been a middler schooler at either Chenery or BDS. All I know is I would be different.

I find it interesting how life takes its individual path in creating who we are.  Our personal experiences shape who we are as well as life events.  If I’d surrounded myself with a different class of students and a different mixture of teachers, I certainly would not have the same values and opinions as I do today.  I am grateful for the person who I’ve become and I’m eager to see who I’m going to be as I navigate my way through high school.  Yet I continue to wonder who I would be otherwise if my life took an alternative route…

It's okay to change your mind

On Monday, my dad and I drove over to Brandeis University for my tennis practice to find out that it had been cancelled.  We had not been notified that camp wasn’t running so my dad and I ended up driving in the car for 1 hour.  My dad recently discovered a new podcast, called Planet Money [which is a section of NPR news] that he claims is intellectually

stimulating and claims it a good way to pass time spent in a car.  Lasting around 20-30 minutes, these podcasts make good, informative use of the time lost during transportation.

My dad played a podcast titled On Second Thought, which explains why it’s okay to change your mind.  I relistened to the podcast today to help myself remember and capture the details.  Three stories were told, one about an economist, another about a novelist, and the final about a man who built a website dedicated purely to helping people change their minds.  I’m going to share the story about the economist and how she changed her mind since I am fascinated with how it links science and hope together. However, I’ve attached the link to this podcast for further listening.

~THE ECONOMIST

Catherine Baker is an economist at Harvard and she has always held the belief that Medicaid should be extended to everyone in need; everyone should have access to medical insurance.  Baker focused her study primarily on Emergency Rooms:  she argued that many people who did not have medical insurance went to the ER room since it was cheaper to be charged a large bill in the emergency room when needed than be charged for medical insurance annually.  And these people who didn’t have medical insurance didn’t necessarily always have emergencies…some came for annual checkups which ends up swarming the line for people who do have emergencies.  

In some states, Medicaid is granted to people by lottery. So if you’re lucky and your ticket is pulled, you are granted health insurance.  Baker conducted a study in Oregon which tracked the people who got the Medicaid and how many times they went to the emergency room. The people part of this study were a perfect bunch, some had received Medicaid, others were denied Medicaid, and others could afford health insurance themselves.  She and her team discovered after calculating their data twice [since the results seemed to lend itself to a mathematical miscalculation ], that surprisingly, people who received Medicaid went to the Emergency Room more often by 40% more, than people who didn’t receive Medicaid.  Not only do they go to the Emergency Room more, they also go to their regular doctors more often as well!  Baker was shocked and a little bit confused as to why the results of the study were so contradicting to her initial intuition. As she later reasoned and shared with Planet Money, she believes that since the people receiving Medicaid no longer have to pay for their care, they are using it more and more often to ensure absolute health.  It also models a basic principle of economics: the less you have to pay for something, the likely you’re going to use it.  

Baker found herself changing her mind as a scientist, though this contradicted her hope as a citizen.  She realizes that she had hoped that people who received Medicaid went to the Emergency Room less.  However, the science behind it revealed otherwise.  Baker was split between science and being a citizen. ~

What this podcast highlights at the beginning is that it is okay to change your mind.  I remember in history class this year, during our “four corner” debates, I found myself switching to a different corner sometimes after considering the perspectives of people in a different corner.  Luckily, in our history class, people were very respectful of these changes. Recently, I've also been discovering my fashion sense changing. I used to be [and still am] a conservative dresser. I feel odd and out of self when I wear a particular style of clothing and I thought it was "popular" girl style. However, this past month, I've been trying to transition my style to something a bit more trendy. In essence, my perception of "trendy" clothing is changing and is no longer associated with "popular" girl style: it's personal style. In our society though, it is socially constructed to be bad if one changes his/her mind.  Name calling is even involved (“wishy-washy”, “backflipper” in Australia, “U-turner” in England etc].  However, I believe we must remember that none of us are always right and that it is important to understand that when one changes their mind, it is a good thing, showing how they are open to new ideas.  Let’s celebrate “wishy-washy” people.  

How things come to be

It continues to surprise me how things come to be, or more, how people discover things they like.  Whether it be a random request or a thoroughly researched hobby, it’s how we discover these that amazes me.

One example I always think back to is tennis.  I don’t really know how I discovered my desire to play the sport…all I clearly remember is saying to my mom the summer when I was eight years old, “Mom, I want to play tennis”.  This request, in my memory, seemed to pop out of the blue. It was one of those summers that I didn’t want to flow with my normal rotation of camps, which had previously included MIT Day Camp, ID Tech Camp, sewing camp and acting camp.  I wanted to try something different, yet I don’t know how I came upon the conclusion of trying tennis over another sport.  

As it turns out, I’ve kept up the tennis that I began to learn that first summer when I held a racket for the first time at age eight.  At first, I playing only during the summer, slowly integrating training into the school year and now I play all year round.  For me, it feels like a lifelong sport.  I know I’ll probably be playing it for the rest of my life, though it still always makes me curious as to how I first felt the desire to play…tennis?… In retrospect it seems like a random request to burn up time that has somehow weaved itself into my everyday life.  

We may look "perfect" in social media

Social media is a finicky and portrayals are almost never in alignment with who we really are.  After all, are we always the same on media as we are in person?

This past week on Instagram, I posted a picture of the me and the other three Banner Students of our grade leading the line in graduation with the middle school banner. At BB&N, it is typically considered honorable to be nominated a Banner Student, and at graduation, our duty is to lead the eighth graders into the gym.  I got the most likes I have ever gotten on a single post from this picture.  

But when I looked back at the picture yesterday, it made me realize how “perfect” I may have seemed to an outsider who didn’t know me well, being clad in an ivory white lace dress, hidden behind a layer of makeup, walking stiffly in four inch heels.  It is deeply embedded in my values that perfection doesn’t exist.  I believe there can always be a better.  However, this I realized, was what social media failed to express: that perfection did not exist.  

As I was scrolling through other people’s posts yesterday, this idea began to take a fuller shape.  No one, it seemed to me, posted pictures of “trouble”, “struggle”, or “challenge”.  Most people posted pictures smiling after climbing a mountain, relaxing at the beach with iced tea, or dancing at a pop music concert.  In essence, people posted pictures of themselves at their best, which had lead me to believe that social media can be a little bit one sided.  Who wants to post pictures of trouble, struggle, failure and challenge?  Our true selves aren’t accurately represented in media as we are in person.  Media has the power to hide our struggles and our failures, sharing only the best parts of ourselves.  

For example, let’s say that someone posted a picture/video of themselves finishing a marathon, speedily running through the finish line, receiving a host of cheers and smiling brightly after running 26.2 miles.  Viewers are inclined to see a radiant, successful and proud runner.  In addition, this same person who just ran the marathon, may have posted a picture of themselves graduating from a top university, holding their degree in their hands.  Then, they may have posted a picture of themselves at a massive pop music concert, dancing and singing along happily.  As viewers of this person’s profile, we may forget that they are still human.  They may seem “perfect” to us, being smart, athletic, yet equally knowing of how to balance this all out with fun.  An honest confession: I know I am one who is easily envies people who find this harmonious balance of intellect, athleticism, and enjoyment of life.  Sometimes I do not see the arduous training regimen that went into the training for the marathon, or the hours spent studying to obtain admission and finally the hard work that went into graduating from that top university.  We are inclined to see only the product of this hard work.  The work behind all these achievements is too easily hidden.  

I believe as I further interact with social media, I must remember not only to see the picture that’s being taken, but the work that got the person where they are right now.  I must remember to see that most of the time, people worked for what they have.  Everybody has flaws, even if these flaws lack representation through social media.  After all, we are all human, and nothing worth having comes without struggle.

Father's Day Quote

"My father gave me the greatest gift anyone could give another person, he believed in me." ~Jim Valvano

This was the quote of the day for Father's Day 2017.  I believe Valvano spoke wisely, but if I were to add on my own part to Valvano's quote, I would add:

"My father gave me the greatest gift anyone could given another person, he believed in me and he taught me through power of example."  Dad, I hope that small addition will make an impact in your day.   Happy Father's Day and thank you for everything you do for me each day to leave me with something better.  

My love for being busy

I try not to say that I’m bored.  I don’t believe in this phrase: I’m bored.  I like to occupy myself with something to do, whether that be independently reading Wall Street Journal, playing tennis, learning math, or browsing through Instagram.  I love to be busy.

Yet last week, after getting out of school for summer break, I found myself feeling a little “bored.”  Of course I didn’t directly say that out loud, but I felt like I had a lot of free time on my hands.  These past few days I’ve been brainstorming ways in which I can find more purpose in my 3 month long summer break.  

First, I’ve officially began learning a little bit of Algebra 2 in preparation for high school.  I’ve been going chapter and section by section like I do in school.  I’m being slowly introduced to new topics and concepts, while keeping the math load light.  My hope–and purpose in working over the summer–is one, to make sure I don’t forget what I’ve covered in eighth grade, two, to make sure my academic mindset stays fresh and has an easier time returning to school, and three, to make sure that I continue to learn new things these next three months.

My dad also purchased the Arduino board, which is a kit designed to provide an introduction into electrical engineering.  He and I have been working together at night to explore the various projects. Here’s the story behind it:  Since a young age, I’ve been quite resistant to learning about coding/engineering/tech/social media etc.  I found little interest in the opportunities technology leveraged to promote more ergonomic lifestyles for humans. Simultaneously I remember wanting to be a policewoman in third grade, a writer in fourth to fifth grade, a professor from sixth to mid-seventh grade, and now, I’m interested in investing in the field of business.  In other words, as the years have gone by, I’ve been exposed to new things, the product being my perception of who I want to be are evolving alongside evidenced by my evolving sense of what I want to do when I grow up.  I’m beginning to see the importance of not resisting learning new things or change because having a bit of knowledge in another area can’t hurt, can it?  

This reminds me of a really good example my dad gave me a couple months ago.  He said I’ve always been obsessed with raspberries [meaning I have a box almost everyday;)] and for a while, that was the only fruit I ate…until I tried a mango a few summers ago.  I continue to eat my raspberries but now, I’ve found a new love; mangoes.  My introduction to electrical engineering is probably not going to be a career I’m interested in pursuing but it’s something I feel I still need to learn the basics, because electrical engineering especially, is a very applicable skill.  It’s like my mango.  

I’ve also been investing some time into fashion designing and stone art.  Last summer I became interested in fashion design and I’ve continued.  I like to think it keeps the creative juices flowing.  Stone art meanwhile, is something new I’ve been trying out.  I found some flattish black rocks in my backyard and have been decorating them with metallic paint-like markers and sharpies, then writing little messages on the back like be someone’s sunshine, or wisdom and kindness are better together, in other words, another form of inspiration.  I’m thinking about ways in which I can pull this idea together to make public art.  

Of course, I will still be blogging, playing tennis, reading different books and watching episodes of The Man in the High Castle on amazon prime.  So really, when I reflect on the different things I’m trying this accomplish this summer, I think I can still proudly say: I’m busy.  And if I find myself on the verge of saying I’m bored, I will remember that there are endless lists challenges, tasks, ways to entertain yourself, things to learn, books to read, and fun things to do in life that simply being bored just doesn’t qualify as being on that list.  

Friendship

I’m reflecting on my time at BB&N.  I see many ways in which I’ve grown as a student, as a person and as a member of an ever-developing  society.  BB&N has taught me is the importance of asking for help and that it doesn’t mean I am incapable.  These past three years at BB&N have taught me, as my seventh grade advisor said, that it is the successful students who ask for help.   I like to think of it as not that I’m incapable, but that I care about understanding.  

As a reflect, I think about the friendships I have with my tight knit friend circle.  Today I’ve been pondering over how people make friends with each other.  It amazes me how individuals choose their friends and how they become closer.  Coming into BB&N in sixth grade, I remember knowing 3 people, all of whom I’d met at tennis camp previous summers.  But the majority of my friend group I’ve known through meeting them in classes, and somehow, my consciousness told me that this was someone I want to surround myself with.  Somehow I made that decision.  

Similar interests are an obvious reason two people may be inclined to be attracted to one another.  Similar mindsets, similar tastes, similar beliefs…similarities in general draw people together.  But I feel there’s more.  Perhaps it has to do with how we respond to each other’s needs.  Maybe it has to do with how we present ourselves on the first day of school, moreover, it’s quite scary to think that my closest friends are often times the people I sit next to on the first day of school.  Or maybe it’s intuition and gut-feelings.  I’m not certain.  But friendship is something I will surely be observing in my next four years in high school and more specifically, how I formed close friendships with the people I do.