I stand in right field during the first game of the season. My nerves have my entire body shaking. I hear Coach yelling something to me, but I don’t hear what she says. Our pitcher raises her arms for the pitch. I start to step backwards, something a teammate had haphazardly mentioned to me before we went out onto the field. I repeat my new mantra for the season, “Please don’t hit it to me.” The crack of the bat takes my breath away and of course the ball is coming right to me. I begin to run backwards as I raise my glove up. I stop, the ball now only moments from touching my glove. It slides right into the pocket… only to immediately fall to the ground. Quickly, I scramble to find it, breathing heavily as I try to figure out where to throw the ball once it’s in my hand. The runner rounds second going for third. I chuck the ball to my cut off, but it's too late. The runner slides into third base. Safe. By a longshot. Shame heats my cheeks as I try to shake off the error and get prepared for the next batter. But I make another error… and another… and another. When I got asked to move up I was ecstatic. I’ve been the starting catcher on every single team I have been on. So when Coach told me she only moved me to play outfield, I was more than upset. For the first time I didn’t know what I was doing, and it really showed. Dropped balls, wrong steps, and overthrows were all I could manage. Going from a leader and strong player on a team to one of the weakest shattered my confidence. I tried my best to catch for the pitchers during practices as often as I possibly could. I thought that if the coach saw how much better I was at catching, she’d finally put me into my position during a game. It took me until almost halfway through the season to realize that she wasn’t going to change her mind. Outfield is where I was going to stay. So instead of continuing to whine and try to get my way out of it, I did everything I could to get better. My nights changed from complaining to my mom, to watching youtube videos on outfielding. Instead of watching the catcher in college games, I was studying the outfielders. What they did even when the ball wasn’t going to them. Quickly I noticed a difference, and so did the rest of the team. I am still proud of how much I improved. The difference mainly came from my acceptance of my position. Instead of fighting where I was and self sabotaging, I put in all of my effort in every aspect of the position. My confidence was back where it was before and I could fully enjoy the game I love to play so much. What I had finally realized was that I shouldn’t have focused so much on myself and what I wanted. I should have focused more on what my team needed. My team already had an amazing catcher, what we needed was someone willing to learn how to be a good outfielder. By overcoming playing in a completely different position, I learned the importance of real teamwork. This is now a reminder for me in every group I find myself in. Classwork, friendships, even relationships, knowing the difference between what I want and what everyone else needs comes into play everywhere.

Teaching is more than lesson plans and grading papers; it is about creating a love of learning. Teachers go far beyond the classroom; they dedicate their whole lives to bettering and helping others. The best teachers are a vital role in their communities, always involved and ready to give their time. They are caring, compassionate people who would do anything for their students and I strive to be like the teachers who have taught and have raised me. Whenever I am asked why I want to become a teacher, I am reminded of one pivotal moment from my freshmen year of High School and my incredible history teachers who led me to it. More often than not most people assume I want to become a teacher because my mother is a special ed. teacher at my school, and while this of course has now helped me on my path to becoming a teacher, really isn't why I want to be a high school history teacher. Though I admire my mom, her dedication, and how she taught me to respect teachers, it wasn't until I was assigned a special project from my Global History teachers that I even thought of becoming a teacher. We were in the middle of a Vietnam unit, and I went to my teachers and asked if I could bring in my great uncle's medals to show to the class. They asked if I could include a brief excerpt, and that was when I realized I really didn't know much about him. When I went home, I immediately started asking my nana (his sister) as many questions as I could. I poured over his letters home and went through hundreds of projector pictures. Not only did I get my great uncle Johnny's point of view of being stationed in Australia and Vietnam, but I also read dozens of articles learning more about the war itself. Admittedly this was one of the first times I really read history articles for fun, and I was purely enchanted by it. To say that this is what sparked my interest in history would be an understatement. As I got closer to the day I was to present to the class, my teachers approached me and asked if it would be alright if they recorded it for their podcast (The Missing Chapter Podcast, 4 Rows Down, 3 names Over). I agreed and my small little project grew into something special for not only my classmates, but my family, the community, and potentially for the whole world. I shared my uncle's story and in doing so I felt so much closer to him and the rest of my family. I felt that I finally had a better understanding of what my family went through after losing a family member in the Vietnam War. Obviously, I wasn't there to experience it firsthand so how I got to connect with them was through history. As I finished presenting and my classmates left the auditorium, my teachers came to thank me, and this is the moment I will never forget. Mr. Schoff turned and asked me, "So when are you going to be a teacher?" I really hadn't put too much thought into what I wanted to do as a career up until that point. Thanks to him and Mr. Horender, I realized I could also share a passion of history to others through teaching. Maybe I could assign a project that helped connected a student to their family. Maybe I, just like them, could leave a lasting impact on my students.