Bold Patience Matters Scholarship

The word "patience" invokes my mantra for my physical pain, and serves to remind me that my pain, while chronic, has the capacity to heal. For the past two years, I have battled severe knee pain and have lost my ability to run, and this reality is devastating. Running, for me, is synonymous with how my body relies on oxygen to survive; and life without running has shown me how I took my ability to run for granted. On August 18, 2020, I went on a recovery outrun, as instructed by my coach, and I eagerly began running and pacing myself for the first mile. However, less than a mile into my run, I felt a sharp, unrelentless pain in my left knee. I listened to my body, and elected to take a break from running, and today I find myself in recovery from the then undiagnosed patellofemoral pain syndrome. Patellofemoral pain syndrome is a common injury in runners, and it took almost a year and a half to get this diagnosis. I initially had a brief stint from running, only to have my knee pain bilateral or even more intense. Today, I am in physical therapy at my local Driscoll Children's Hospital, and have a steady line of treatment. With my daily pain, I began to lose faith in my ability to return to running, alone being pain-free once more. Yet, through patience, I have forgiven myself for an injury I could not have prevented, and I have appointments twice a week to regain strength and train my muscles to support my weakened knees. I am over the moon to say that my pain is starting to show signs of an end, as I work effortless to complete my exercises; I can now look forward to running again.

Patience is important to me because it allows me to encourage my young dance students and it builds both their character and mine. I teach dance at the Tennessee Conservatory of Fine Arts, and the goal of my young students is to earn their first pair of pointe shoes. Pointe shoes to three to five-year-old little girls are like the ruby slippers were to Dorothy. After a few dance classes, they ask when will they get their first pair of pointe shoes. When I tell them that the average age for the first pair is around eleven years old, that often seems like forever to their young minds. So, we focus on how to strengthen the legs, feet and bodies so that they will grow to be strong dancers and earn their pointe shoes. My patience with their endless questions and times when they begin to doubt themselves, assures them that with weekly work, they will achieve their goal. I listen actively to their questions, and patiently answer their concerns. This shows the girls that they do matter, and I truly value their concerns and them as human beings. Their little ballet shoes rarely stay tied all the way thru class, so I have to show patience, gentleness and kindness while we make the “bunny ears” and learn to tie our shoes and tuck in the laces. My family showed patience to me. I am the youngest sibling, and they took time to show me how to tie my shoes when I outgrew Velcro shoe enclosures. Patience and kindness are contagious, and they are especially important to exhibit to young children, the elderly and those who need more time to accomplish tasks. I hope my patience with my young dancers will result in them being patient to others as well.