As an incoming tenth grader (or a new Lower, as I’ve learned), this Midterm marked the first few weeks of my Andover journey. Entering as a new Lower is not easy for the very same reason that the rabbit struggles to catch up with the turtle in “The Tortoise and the Hare.” The rabbit, who has blissfully slept through the ninth grade, has a late start to the game. Nevertheless, as the old saying goes — better late than never.
Now, I would like to point out that saying that life at Andover is analogous to “The Tortoise and the Hare” is a bit inaccurate. Andover is not a race. It is perhaps more similar to being in a foreign body of water for the first time, where you are likely still adjusting to the temperature and the unexpected torrents. The point is not to compete with the other swimmers, but to focus on your own lane, and maintain your own pace. For every swimmer, though, floating is a good start. Every one you admire was once a beginner, and every one needs to know how to float before learning to swim. As those of you who have taken the swim test will know, if you want to survive in a body of water, floating is essential. Try to float as long as you can. Sure, the homework will try to drag you down, the majors will feel like they weigh a ton, but keep your heads up, try to not work yourself too hard and be patient that you don’t know how to do the butterfly stroke just yet.
But don’t just float, remember to breathe —t o take breaks. Just like in swimming, no one can hold their breath forever, regardless of how strong their lungs are. And remember, there is always ample oxygen above the surface. Allow yourself to adjust to this place. Don’t be afraid to take as much time as needed to catch your breath and center yourself before you restart that math review sheet or that English essay. Take your time. When the fear of drowning starts to reside, you will start to embrace the ripples, the waves and the occasional storms. It is all but an experience, every obstacle carrying the potential of becoming an opportunity to learn, to grow and to flourish.
Most importantly, no matter what sharks you will face in the future, or whatever danger lies in the unknown territory, remember to laugh at it. Laugh at your moments of embarrassment, your failed group quiz, and the three levels of stairs that never seem to end in Morse Hall. And know that you are not alone. You are not stuck in an empty, deserted ocean with no one in sight. We are all on this journey together. This journey is bound to be different than the one you imagined at the start, and you don’t have a say in whom you encounter and what views you see, but you do get to decide how you want to spend your time here. There will come times when you doubt yourself, when everything seems to be going downhill, but if you float long enough, if you are patient enough with yourself, you will eventually emerge as a better swimmer on the other side.
