Rejected

When I was in 5th grade, I wanted to apply and enroll in a selective middle school called "The Academy" Jr. High. Both my brothers went there for all 3 years, and I knew it was my destiny to do the same. What I didn't know was that my 5th grade teacher was praying on my academic downfall, and God may have answered in her favor.

At my elementary school, we did a lot of STAR360 (S360) standardized testing. I never took those exams seriously until 5th grade, when admission into "The Academy" required stellar S360 scores among excellent grades. As a child, I felt reasonably intelligent and figured I could score well if I applied myself. I recall doing well on the first exam and was already daydreaming about all the intellectually stimulating conversations I'd have with future Nobel Laureates and scientific pioneers. Then it all went downhill after the second standardized exam; several exams after the second one, I wasn't doing too well. I started to realize that studying for the STAR360 exam was futile but couldn't quite figure out why. No matter what, I just kept doing horribly. However, on some exams I'd score very well, but the problem was that I couldn't maintain a steady score. One day, my teacher sat me down and told me something along these lines:

"Listen Andy, I'm not mad at you, I'm just frustrated... Your scores keep roller-coasting. You need to stay at a high score. Or else..."

After that day, I was motivated to become a true academite, and so I pulled out my notebook and pencil, studied my math and reading notes, consulted with like-minded peers, and then I bombed the next exam. I was devastated. At this rate, instead of making new scientific discoveries at Harvard, I was on track to flipping burgers at Mickey D's. I remember going home one day and worriedly telling my mom that I'm not gonna follow in my gifted brothers' footsteps. But with her great motherly skills, she reminded me that I'm enough and promised I'd be accepted, and I felt reassured to keep fighting. In my head, I started to think this would be a familiar fairy tale story with a difficult conflict but a satisfying and happy end.

Still a little panicked, I spoke with some close friends of mine about our S360 scores to see if I was alone on the struggle bus. All 4 of us and a kid from another class were the only prospects for The Academy. And if I couldn't even study enough to the point where I scored terribly, then surely those tests were just too difficult for the brightest 5th grade minds. But after discussion, it turned out that I just had milk for brains because my peers were doing amazing. While my head was turning into aged cheese on the exams and struggling on the Pythagorean theorem, they said every math and reading problem was a breeze.

My teacher noticed my performance relative to my 3 close friends and started to have more talks with me. She said "there were previously 5 younglings with a promising future in the academy, and now, only 4 remain. One fell off and hit his head." She didn't actually say that, but that's the message I extrapolated from the serious sit-downs. We had one more exam left before the school year ended, and if I didn't do well, I'd be possibly rejected from The Academy and separated from my 3 friends in middle school. I still had a great chance of getting in because my actual grades were excellent. But limited by the brain in my head and strengthened with the sword of persistence, I was motivated to slay the dragon that is standardized testing and STAR360.

After graduating 5th grade, I never found out how I scored on the final exam. But guessing by the fact that on a beautiful summer day, while I was playing on the XBOX360, my mom prefaced with "I'm sorry, little Andy" and handed me a letter saying:

"Dear Andy, we regret to inform that we've moved on with other applicants..."

... I think, in figurative terms, the dragon chewed my head off and spat out spoiled milk. I won't lie, I freaked out and cried for a good 20 minutes. After I transitioned from tears to sniffles, I genuinely realized at the young age of 11 years old that life isn't a fairy tale. And sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you can still fail. I discovered my mother's words weren't prophecies, and my best efforts weren't enough.

I didn't know this at the time, but I wasn't completely destroyed because deep down I believed that even if my "best" wasn't enough, my "best" could still grow. I wasn't explicitly aware because anger clouded my judgment. I was mad at my 5th grade teacher. I remembered she stated she'd visit The Academy during the summer and make decision-making recommendations to the admissions team and felt rage at the possibility that she had me turned down. "Even if I had bad S360 scores, I still had good grades!" The pain was even more unbearable when I discovered the other kid and all my friends made it to The Academy. Only I was rejected. But because you could reapply to The Academy in the 6th grade, my fury fueled my redemption.

Looking back now, I definitely was not cut out for The Academy. Struggling on those standardized tests was simply not a good look. I wouldn't doubt if my head was full of cobwebs, but somewhere among those cobwebs was a plug and an outlet. I'm not proud of it, but the anger to prove myself made a connection because in the sixth grade, things just started clicking. The math that once had me stumped was now beneath me, and I was developing abstract thought. It was as if the universe felt bad and gave me a small loan of 5 IQ points. My teachers even questioned why I wasn't reserved a spot in The Academy and promised me they'd give great recommendations to shoe me in. I finished the year with all A's and a B in gym, and because I had glasses and four eyes, surely the B in gym class would put me in the spotlight of a stereotypical nerd deserving of an academic appointment. Eventually, I was accepted! Obviously not for the former reason, though...

Nowadays, I still experience rejection, but I'm not fueled to grow my best for the wrong reason. I could work hard to be great and angrily prove myself to people like my 5th grade teacher, but I could also work hard and happily prove myself to Andy. At the end of the day, it's night. Though it wasn't obvious to Andy the Youngin, my 5th grade teacher was there to support me, not tear me down. She recognized that I'd likely struggle in a challenging environment and knew it was best to put me in a position where I can better myself. That's why she'd frequently check up on me with all those meetings. And really, she was actually a teaching superstar in terms of instructional ability.

Even though it's easy to blame others for the losses, very rarely is life going to be a "her" or "him" or "them" problem. Many times, it's going to be a "me" problem. Sometimes, a little anger slips through the cracks when, in this terrible job market, a potential employer recites the same language in that 5th grade rejection letter all those years ago. And I almost think, "grrrr! I'll show you!" And then I am reminded of The Academy situation. It's no one's fault I'm not where I want to be but mine, so for all triumphs that follow, I'll continue to prove myself to me.