It was the start of the school year, and I had just finished reading Jack London’s White Fang. I remember this sentence from the book clearly:

“Fear urged him to go back, but growth drove him on.”

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A FOLLOWER

In 8th and 9th grade, I was a follower. An awkward, nervous follower who would sometimes go outside their comfort zone just to step quickly back inside it. However, I changed at the start of 10th grade. I was tired of my timidity—my timidity that causes my hands to shake, thumb to twitch, heart to beat against the left side of my chest. I wanted to be a leader; I wanted to grow—and so growth drove me on, just as it did with White Fang.

In the 2022-2023 school year, my school changed a bit. Teachers encouraged students to communicate with the microphone more often. We had to introduce ourselves to our new teachers and classmates. That was my first challenge. I was proud of myself whenever I ignored the racing of my heart and spoke, but I felt forced to speak. I went outside my comfort zone, but I was not growing because I kept going back to it. Fear was constantly urging me back. It was still attached to me. But there was a time when I chose to speak. It was during my art class, and it was the start of my journey.

OUTSIDE MY COMFORT ZONE

On my wrist, my watch's alarm goes off—the alarm I had set that morning—warning me it was 11:15 AM. I sat at my desk, opened my laptop, and logged into my art class session. My ceiling light shone down, changing my camera’s lightning to a warm yellow. Time passed, my teacher taught, then she asked us a question. I contemplated whether I should answer on the microphone or type my answer. I chose the former.

Despite speaking for a mere few seconds, I smiled for the rest of the day. I went to bed that day with sore cheeks and deeper smile lines. It's funny how the things I do now are things that would have caused me to faint back then: two months ago, I applied for an internship. A few weeks ago, I signed up to be part of my school’s SkillsUSA leadership team. In the future, I'll be tutoring math and English online. And now, I verbally communicate with my teachers almost every week.

I find it lovely that art class was the first time I said to myself, “Speak,” rather than be told that. My art teacher is peacefully encouraging—she tells us, her students, to answer on the mic, but she does not pressure us. In the feedback sections of my assignments, she leaves kind notes. She is like the sun, representing warmth and happiness. After every class session with her, I think, “This is the best teacher I’ve ever had,”—an un-erasable teacher. Although she is not the reason for my growth, her gentleness definitely played a part.

A CONSTANT GROWER

I still have a long way to go, yet I’ve already learned that growth requires risks. If you continuously step outside your comfort, you are continuously one step closer to where you want to be. In my case, it is being a leader. Success does not happen without risks—unharmful risks, that is. Be a constant grower, and the farmer (yourself) will love you the most.

Sincerely, Wordynora.