I, Bea

To be Bea, or not?

That is the question.

I reflect.

Riding the carousel of a Middlebury education,

My journey here quickly nears its end.

I go through the motions in the ever-familiar atmosphere,

My home for almost four years now —

Nothing is new, but time is precious.

I buzz.

A constant whirl of activity,

Each day I find myself busier than the last,

Each day shorter than the last.

Bouncing from class to class, practice to a social event —

Time ticks away,

But unneeded stress and self-induced anxieties persist.

Surrounded by teacher’s pets, prodigies, and world-travelers alike,

The quest for perfection,

Plagues us all —

A contagion with no apparent remedy.

I am.

A student, an athlete, a captain, a friend,

Multiple hats sit upon my head.

A constant juggling act occupies my days –

Trying to tackle each role with poise, unphased.

Projecting confidence amidst the chaos,

I hide my self-doubts,

But I am vulnerable.

I really don’t know how to unwind and just be Bea.

Or is this who I am?

I ask.

What does it mean to be Bea?

To embrace each day as a tile in a mosaic,

A stepping stone on my path towards the unknown.

My days can be frenetic,

But I have goals in mind.

A internal daily checklist,

To accomplish, to succeed, to make my mark.

Each day brings new challenges.

I wake.

The pre-dawn Vermont moon is veiled by diaphanous clouds.

I wipe the crust from my eyes,

A remnant of my vow to preparedness.

Slaving over that regression STATA set,

Refusing to settle for an uncertain answer —

Fearful of receiving dismissive stares

From my brainiac classmates

If cold-called on, in my 8AM.

Four years later,

Still anxious about judgements —

Deemed just an athlete in the classroom.

Here, not so proud of wearing multiple hats,

Hastily trying to conceal my true identity.

I learn.

Inside and out of the classroom,

I pave my road to experience —

Failure is my friend,

And success doesn’t come on a silver platter.

“Do’s and don’ts” from the older kids,

Steer me away from making that “freshman mistake”.

A minor slip up as a rookie,

Quickly curbed by a nagging sophomore putting me in my place.

But as I experience and discover,

I let myself go — never perfect,

Nor complacent, there is always more to be learned.

I stride.

Atwater dining hall is my domain.

Shuffling between tables, exchanging “hellos” with familiar faces,

The cherished downtime to swap stories and share laughs.

My favorite part of the day —

The social bee, floating from petal to petal,

Seemingly disorganized and trailing off script,

Yet utterly content, embracing the chaos.

A class discussion, your proctor crush, yesterday’s darty,

All a part of the “Midd kid” chatter.

A shy wave from a freshman on my team brings a smile to my face —

It’s the little things in life.

I compete.

Rushing out of my 4:05,

I grab another hat —

The most frantic time of my everyday.

A quick turn around, no time to stop and think

As I trek down to the athletic center.

Practice or game — expectations remain the same.

“Don’t be nervous” they say,

“Just play loose, play confident”.

The pressure of performing, of keeping a starting position,

The difficulty in balancing the idea of “work and play”

A competitor in all fields, a passionate athlete,

Always striving, always aspiring.

Wearing the Middlebury navy and white,

I scream Panther pride,

But sometimes the game becomes a job.

Act with grace and perform under pressure,

With a target on my back —

This right here, is no easy task.

Pushing myself day in and out,

Embrace self-satisfaction with a job well-done,

But accept losing, showing sportsmanship,

Never failing.

I stumble.

Not every stride lands where it should.

Among the daily routine and commotion,

I am caught off guard by the unforeseen diagnosis of my mom’s cancer.

Another battle I am not ready to tackle.

A five-hour drive and a phone call away,

Feeling helpless with what little I can give

With so much distance between us.

Grappling to weave a tight-knit bond with my younger brother,

Caught up in his own world of teenage angst and rebellion,

Wanting to be a role model,

But nervous to burn the bridges we still share.

Striving to connect with my older sister

Amidst our stark differences and our ongoing quarrels.

I cry.

Feeling ashamed and guilty for my years of selfishness,

My middle-child tendencies,

For never being a better sister,

Or a perfect daughter.

Trying to project strength and hide my fears.

To accept what I cannot change and cherish what I have,

To balance family and friends and goals.

To take a confident step forward,

And never look back.

I reflect.

In just four short weeks,

My cookie-cutter lifestyle will suddenly change,

For better or for worse,

My Middlebury carousel ride,

Just seconds away from its screeching halt.

What does the future hold?

Only time will tell…

Mentally preparing for the leap into the dreaded “real world”,

Lessening my tight grip on my parents’ dependent hands,

Realizing that perfection

Simply does not exist

And that the job of lacrosse,

Is really just a game.

I buzz.

Constantly busy, engaged, and occupied,

My endless flight,

Wearing rotating hats,

Hurdling obstacles when they appear on my trajectory.

In and outside of the classroom,

on Peter Kohn Field, and beyond the tiny bubble

Of Middlebury, Vermont.

Life’s challenges,

The pangs of illness, the spontaneous joys,

I must be Bea

This is who I am.

The importance of family, friends, and closeness,

The future’s unknowns,

The “what ifs”,

The understanding and acceptance,

To bear the fate and be,

Bea.