Digging Deep

Personal Narrative Essays are supposed to be about something significant in your life, but I haven't done much yet to qualify for that. There have been a lot of moments worth telling, don't get me wrong. What has me in a bind is that it has to be a whole essay and have a meaning! So after really thinking about what I've done in life, I've decided that my trip to Africa in 2009 and breaking my arm in 2010 are prime candidates. 

During the summer before my eighth grade year, my grandparents took the entire family to Africa for an adventure safari. All 16 of us hopped on a plane in Chicago, and 36 hours later we landed near Mt. Kilimanjaro in Tanzania. This was going to be our home for the next 14 days. We spent a day or two in the city of Arusha to get to know the culture; the next day we drove into the wild safari. We saw so many kinds of wildlife, foliage, land formations, and people. In the middle of the Serengeti we stayed in tents exposed to any animal that would dare come near. This especially frightened me and put me out of my comfort zone. What if a lion, elephant, rhino, or any other animal decided that my tent was a threat and attacked? Those four nights, I barely slept at all! After leaving the Serengeti, we visited other places such as the Ngorongoro Crater, Tangire National Park Reserve, and Masai Villages. But at the very end of the trip we visited a small mountain village called Thloma. There, we had the opportunity to rebuild a kindergarten classroom and interact with the children there. This event was eye-opening. We brought with us old clothing, school supplies, things to decorate the classroom with, and lunch. For lunch, we introduced the young children to an American peanut butter & jelly sandwich. They were amazed with how different it was; it was weird to think how different their childhoods are. After lunch we got to play games; the boys went and played "football" and us girls learned a few things about each other. They taught us Swahili schoolyard chants, dances, and games. I gave my old Hannah Montana concert t-shirt to a little girl and she immediately put it on a lit up with a smile. Interacting with these children is something I'll never forget. At the end of the day, I realized that they taught me more than just schoolyard traditions; they taught me a new perspective. 

My whole life I've been very active and athletic. When I was around 4 years old, I decided that I wanted to be a competitive gymnast. My mom signed me up for gymnastics lessons and got my passion going. By the age of 9 I was on the competitive team at a level 4 and constantly at the gym practicing. I kept up with this same thing until I was twelve and at a level 7. Going into 7^th grade I wanted to be in cheer, volleyball, and track; so, I had to quit gymnastics. But, I didn’t totally stop. I continued to go to once-a-week tumbling lessons for the rest of that year. By 8^th grade, I wasn’t even going to classes anymore. During cheer season Amber convinced me to get back into tumbling, but at her gym. We went to a few lessons and I loved tumbling again. But this feeling was going to be short lived. At the fourth week of lessons, I was just casually going to do a pass across the floor when tragedy struck.

I ran out and in mid-flip I somehow decided to stop then and there. My arm snapped in two spots and I went black for a moment. The next thing I remember is holding up my left arm and looking at it; my arm was in the shape of an “S.” Moments after that, I began screaming and to be honest, I don’t remember much else. I was in a neck brace, in an ambulance. I couldn’t feel my left side and I was so scared. We arrived at the hospital and the doctors drugged me up, fixed me up, and sent me home. Since that day I haven’t stepped one foot on a tumbling floor or flipped since. This experience taught me that things that I feel are big parts of my life are things that I can learn to live without.