The worst day of your life; it hits you hard, and often, straight in the face. I am ridiculously lucky that my worst day was not the death of someone close to me or the diagnosis of an illness. It is often referred to as “the unspeakable event of my eighth grade year.” The days following the incident included long cries in the shower, suppressing my desire to run out of my favorite teacher’s classroom, and painful jokes poking fun at my grade and our “lack of talent.”

Breaking a tradition, especially when it’s a winning streak, is always heartbreaking. Going into my eighth grade year, Regis Mock Trial had won seven state championships in a row. My grade was determined to keep the winning streak going. No one doubted we would be able to do it until our team name was called for eighth place and our seventh grade team was called for fifth. Dread and disappointment permeated throughout my whole team. We knew this one single event would define our success in an activity we loved so much. I, being the pessimist I am, let it define me for three years in everything that I did.

I continued to participate in mock trial, but I always had a small voice in the back of my mind reminding me of my eighth grade year and how I wasn’t good enough. Last year, after being placed on the jv team, I was determined to shove that voice as far back as possible. My team worked hard, and we placed seventh at the state tournament. I won my second All-State Attorney Award, but that wasn’t good enough for me. I was still being reminded, even by my coach, of what happened my eighth grade year. I was sick of our placement in eighth grade defining the talent of my team. This year seemed to have no hope of success. To my surprise, it would be the year I finally overcame that one event that had controlled me for years.

I finally stopped crying about mock trial, and I accepted that if I wanted to make the best out of the situation, I had to persevere through every challenge my coach threw at my team. By letting go of the past, I accepted that I could only control myself and had to place my trust in members of a team I had never worked with before.

As painful as it was, my perseverance paid off. I will always remember the way it felt to be announced as the state mock trial champion. I will always remember the way it felt to receive a long-coveted hug from my coach who only smiles once in a blue moon, and I will always remember the way it felt to have happy tears streaming down my face instead of tears of defeat.

It was easier to mope in my own sadness for three years, but that got me absolutely nowhere. It seems easier to just let it go, but sometimes, that’s just as hard as making up for the situation. Throughout life, things will be thrown at you that you never expect. Even in sadness and heartbreak, pick yourself up as fast as you can. It will repair your heart, mind, and soul, and get you to where you’re meant to be. Four years later, perseverance paid off.

Sylvia Clubb

News Writer