Opportunity Never Knocks Twice

Yesterday I got a call from Donna Watts, Manager of the Child Study Center's summer program, asking me to come in for an interview next friday. If I am selected, I will become a camp counselor this summer for children with behavioral disorders such as ADHD, depression, and bipolar syndrome. I am nervous; I do not know what the credentials are of the other kids applying for this job, and I don't know how my resume and college transcript compare to theirs. What I do know is, I have a shot at this.

I have been praying for an opportunity like this for weeks, now. After so many attempts to make it somewhere in the world - from competing in the math Olympics in 6th grade to spelling bees and writing contests for B'nai B'rith, I've always received a "runner-up" or "honorable mention." This interview is like one of those competitions, except it takes place in the real world. If I make it, a letter of recc from this job will put me one step closer to medical school. If I don't, it's back to the drawing board.

There's plenty of other jobs out there, available at NYU's career placement website - Wasserman - and elsewhere, but here I feel like I could do the most good. Here I could actually help kids with pressing, persistent problems in their lives, and push them to rise above their circumstances.

It seems as if every time I apply for a job, the sum of myself - what makes me valuable to society - is being appraised. That's what makes it so stressful; the question of "Am I good enough?" always lurks in the background. 

We press on. Even of I don't get this job, there's school to focus on, and summer jobs come second-place on my to-do list.

UPDATE: I GOT THE JOB!

I can only hope that what I learn, and what I do with that knowledge, will help the kids I work with socialize better with their peers and navigate more effectively in a world that does not run on the same track they do. It's not about the money, and it has never been about the money. It's about the chance to make a difference in the lives of kids who are at high risk of addiction, delinquency, and suicide.

Now that I've got the job, I must prepare myself for the challenge of actually DOING it.

Contraindications

So. I do my work, day after day, and primarily what is sacrificed is sleep. When I DO sleep, I don't get my work done. I just failed a physics test (I think) because I slept more than I should've. Where's the balance, then? There's just not enough hours in a day to do everything I want to do. The last time I ran was on Monday - I'm not NEARLY in shape for the 15k I have to do. I never practiced the french horn for the concert, nor have I rehearsed for the christmas pageant I signed up for.

To top that off, I can't be a good friend. Spending time with them sacrifices time to study, but when I study, I neglect my friends. To all who are reading this, I'm sorry. This isn't how I'm supposed to be living - It never has been. I need to ask the sages; Zaida, Andrew, and others, how they find a balance between work and the rest of life. By learning from their example, I should be able to correct this before it gets too out of hand.

I've managed to solve most problems I've ever been faced with. This, too, is correctable.

And It's correctable for you, too. I'll show you how once I get it figured out.

Convergence

Love is patient, Love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always preserves.

- 1 Corinthians 13:4-7

I wear my heart on my sleeves. What can I say? That's how I allow myself to identify with people, to enjoy a good time with them, and over time; to bond with them. That goes for teachers, students (yes I have some), friends, my family once upon a time, and girls. Let me be perfectly clear; I was not always like this. In sixth grade, I was bullied and hurt in so many ways that I couldn't take it anymore. I became withdrawn, sullen, overweight, and angry at everybody I knew and met. No one could understand me; I had a poker face before Lady Gaga even THOUGHT to write that song. I changed schools - 7th and 8th grade were worse. Gained more weight and became angrier. Started listening to metal. Then death metal. Then started looking for the most intense, hateful, mind-twisting music I could find. I was so antisocial that I preferred to sneak out to the back of the school and read Pendragon while sitting next to stray cats during lunch, rather than endure the cafeteria.

Oddly enough, that quest stopped a little in Freshman year. I made friends. My grades improved. My family life was Ideal; while I lived in New Jersey, I could visit my mom on the weekends in New York and play the tourist for a couple days (This was before they got divorced). It regressed in tenth grade as I got stuck with some VERY crappy teachers and a not-so-friendly set of classmates. After christmas, I discover out of nowhere that my mom is intent on divorcing my dad. That's when the drugs, the scum friends, and the self-loathing came in one after another in the span of a few weeks. Took up smoking cigarettes, pot, started drinking, and stayed out till all hours raising hell. Got so bad I ran away from home and stayed with a friend for two days. I just couldn't handle things anymore. My parents still cared about me, oddly, and they hated to see me react like this. My dad suggested I look for a private school in the city and apply - both parents would cooperate to pay for it according to how much they made.

Thanks to them, I went from a 3.0 average in sophomore year to a 3.9 this year. I listen to rock and roll, hip-hop, and pop on a regular basis, choosing to ignore metal unless I'm angry or going for a run. I've made friends at school that i'd follow through hell and back If they asked me to. I took up acting and singing again - doing 'Sweeney Todd' was one of the proudest things i've ever done. I'm closer than ever to both my parents, my sister, and my extended family. I'm physically fit: I ran the NYC marathon last November and I'm training to run twice that distance by fall. Most importantly, in social events, I stopped being the guy that sat in the corner. I went out to parties when allowed, I befriended everyone I could at school, and I tried my hand at romance again. Never allowed myself to until this year; the first attempt failed miserably and the second one backfired. I didn't give up and I didn't go back into my turtle shell - that would've been to admit failure - so when a friend mentioned the possibility of random hookups (wink) and compatible identities, I jumped at the opportunity. The end result of that Is the longest and most emotionally fulfilling relationship I've ever been in, and I thank God every DAY for it. For her. For her being in my life.

Yes, it was a weird introduction. Yes, we've suffered because of past mistakes trusting the opposite sex. That makes no difference in how I feel about her. I am not upset, confused, or bothered at all by the fact that she can't say 'I love you'; that's what messy breakups do to people. I'd noticed it before and wondered, but now that I know why I can empathize with what happened, and I am content. I'll bear my soul again and again, and I'll let my heart get broken by whomever chooses to do so. Why? Because In my line of experience, It's VASTLY better to have loved and been hurt than to not have loved at all. It makes life FUN! It makes things INTERESTING, and you know something else? This is what's good for my emotional health. Whatever's going to happen in the future will happen; I'm not afraid to love.