Personal Narrative

Moments

Becoming a big sister

Although I didn’t know what was happening or even if I wanted a sister, I was excited to become a big sister.

Me and my two siblings, Molly and Aidan.

Finding out I was going to have a baby brother

On Valentine’s Day of 2003, my mom came into my room and announced that she was having a boy! I loved having a little sister, I was so excited to also have a baby brother.

Savta has breast cancer

I was watching TV in the basement when my mother told me my grandmother had breast cancer. This was the first time I had to deal with something so serious, and at such a young age I wasn't sure what to do or think. She would be fine, but it was very scary.

Striking out— sixth grade softball

My first real school sport was of a disaster—I was scared of batting, catching, and everything softball-related. I never played a contact sport again.

Improvisation classes at Second City

This was the first time with people I didn’t know. I thought I was pretty funny, but when I got to the classes where humor was a must, I never felt like I was as funny as the other kids in my class. Even though the point of improvisation classes was to open up and be confident, throughout my many years of improv classes I never really felt like I belonged.

Terrified of rain

Painting a rock at my first summer of camp.

At some point in my childhood, I became so scared of rain to the point that if the sky was cloudy, I would begin to panic. For the next few years, my fear held me back from trying new things.

First year at camp

This was the first time I was away from home for four weeks. I was terrified of being away from my parents. I was still afraid of rain, and knew there was no one for my to rely on if it were to rain. My fear held me back from having new experiences and I was never able to open up completely.

Going to Israel for the first time

In the summer before seventh grade, I went to Israel with my entire family—aunts, uncles, cousins, my siblings, my parents, and my grandparents. Being where my mother’s half of the family grew up reminded me of my family’s history.

Starting crew

After the sixth grade softball fiasco, I joined my first (non-contact) sport. For the first time, I was plunged head first into a brand new and environment where I made new friends and finally felt 

confident and happy.

Me (fourth from right) about to row to the starting line of a race.

Starting high school 

When it was time to graduate middle school, I was more than ready. I was excited to leave my elementary school self behind and meet new people and to be in a new environment.

Canadian

Since my first year of camp, we went on canoe trips every year. My final year as a camper we went on week-long canoe trip in Canada.

Quitting crew

At the beginning of sophomore year, I decided to stop crew. What was once so fun and exciting to me began to go downhill. I was much worse than my friends who were quickly moved into better boats, and it didn't take long for me to realize that I was not good enough to be significant on my team. I no longer found the same joy in the sport I did a year ago, and realized I’d be happier not rowing.

Sophomore year

During the first few months of my second year of highschool, I finally found a really good group of friends. I am happy and secure, and excited to see what lies ahead.

The Canadian

Finishing a three mile long portage before being rewarded with lunch.

Ever since my first year of camp, we had gone on overnight canoe trips. When we were young, it started as just an afternoon, then the next year, to one night, then two nights, then three. Months before I even left for my final year of camp, I was starting to think about the Canadian, the week-long canoe trip that was a rite of passage for the oldest campers.  

The first week of camp is spent preparing for the trip. Five years before, when getting ready for my first trip spent in a tent under the stars, I was terrified. My extreme fear of rain made me question whether I even wanted to go on the trip. But now, I was older and was ready to canoe for eight hours a day and to sleep under the stars for a week. I was still nervous; I had heard many true stories of canoes being struck by lightning or a tree falling on a tent or the time a group of had to canoe for twelve hours straight. I was nervous for the unpredictability of the trip, but the years leading up to the Canadian prepared me for things like building a fire and canoeing for long periods of time. I was more excited than nervous to finally go on the trip that I had heard so much about for years.

The first few days of camp is spent preparing. The thirty girls in my age group who were going on the Canadian canoed around the lake for a few hours, practicing capsizing and getting back up from the center of the lake, and portaging (carrying a canoe on your shoulders while someone directed the canoe from the point) for a few miles. Most if it was hard and physically challenging, but my friends and I all felt the building excitement for our trip.

It was finally time to go. After two hours to the Canadian border and another two to the outpost, we finally had our two Duluth packs of food, five canoes, our paddles, lifejackets, and dry sacks full of the limited packing (three shirts, two shorts, sweatpants, and underwear). After a short drive to our starting point, the nine other girls in my group and our two trippers hopped into our canoes and began the beginning of our week-long wilderness adventure. Every day was the same: Wake up, eat breakfast (dehydrated pancakes, bacon, oatmeal), canoe for a long time, stop for lunch, canoe some more, and finally stop at a campsite for dinner and then go to sleep. We learned how to tell time by the sun and spent our days singing songs off-key and playing energetic games of mafia. On the fourth night, we huddled around the campfire when someone realized we could see the Northern Lights. We stared up at the graceful green lights with our arms around each other for what felt like hours, no one talking, just staring up at the sky.

When we finally returned to the outpost, I felt incredibly accomplished. I smelled awful, my hair was in tangles, and I desperately needed to change my clothes, but those were all parts of my achievement of completing the Canadian. Much of the trip itself was a time for trying new things and diving head first into a brand new environment, even for only one week.

Stopping at a campsite for lunch.

The trip was a time for me to focus on myself, and not on other people or other social aspects. Some things I knew I wasn’t very good at doing, like portaging, but after the countless times we spent going up and down a portage trails I felt better about carrying the heavy boat on my back, and I also realized that I was better at leading than carrying. However, by the end of camp I surprised myself. The week before returning home we had an all-camp relay race. I was put into a portaging event where I had to run as quickly as possible thirty feet to and from a tree, all with a canoe on my back. I was extremely nervous and was sure I wouldn’t be able to do it, but when it was my turn to run I surprised myself and ran quickly and easily, even with the eighty pound boat on my shoulders. While I’d rather lead the canoe and encourage the girl who was carrying it, I realized that I shouldn’t doubt myself before trying something. While I don’t think about portaging during everyday life, I have learned that I like to be a leader and to not give up before I try.

The most important thing the Canadian represented was a milestone of conquering my fear of rain. I remember thinking about the Canadian my first year of camp, and questioning whether or not I would actually go. The idea of being in a canoe during a thunderstorm or even being in a tent during a sprinkle terrified me. On my Canadian, it rained. Many times, almost every day. I constantly thought about how five years before, I would have been so scared, but in time since I had overcome that fear and even learned to love rain. 
The Canadian isn’t the longest trip, nor is it the hardest, but for me it marked a period of overcoming my fears and learning more about myself. I did something that, not too long before, I wouldn’t have believed I could do. Looking back at photos and videos, I remind myself of how much fun I had and not to be scared of trying new things that may seem scary.