We Rise, We Fall, We Keep On Keeping On: A Message to the IB Class of 2016

NOTE: This post was originally written in November 15th for my old blog. I have since moved blogging platforms, and now this post has a new home: here!


When the 2014-2015 school year started, I knew that I was going to be taking on one of the biggest challenges in my life: The International Baccalaureate Program *cue horrified screaming*. But in all seriousness, even as a girl who has always been a natural learner, I gathered from the various information sessions that my days of my lowest grade being that pesky 97 in math were over. Junior year meant buckling down, devoting more time to studying, and participating in numerous activities to earn those crucial CAS (Creativity, Action, and Service Hours). It also meant, sadly, that I now had less time to devote to what I really love: writing fiction.
For the first month and a half of the IB program, I was doing great. My stress levels were low, and I was loving being the manager of a cross country team of great athletes—many of whom have become great friends, as well. Then, October rolled around, our first major exams and projects seemed to hit all at once, and suddenly I was diving headfirst into what is dubbed “The Worst of it All”.
Luckily, I am not taking the plunge alone. There are still about five weeks left of the first semester, and I am thankful that there are around 40 other kids in the same boat, all tackling tons of tough work, GSP/GSA/GSE applications, and multiple extracurriculars at the same time.

But are we really?
A program like the International Baccalaureate is a catalyst for academic competition. There’s a pool of strong, bright students with conflicting personalities and loads of determination. We compare test grades, ACT/SAT scores, and everything in between. Competition, fueled by individual motivation, is healthy in such a setting. But an obsession with perfection and one-upping each other is not. And it’s led to a lot of downright meanness among the 2016 IB Diploma Class.
Some of us have noticed it and expressed our feelings about it only to our friends or family. Some of us have noticed it and haven’t said a word. And some just haven’t noticed it at all. But there is a poisonous tension among this year’s class.
I was one of the students sitting in the HOA Class on 11/14 that got a good talking to about this very thing. The teachers and the 2015 IB Class see what’s going on with us. The words they’ve said about us being mean and cliquish and overly competitive are true, even though we may not want to admit it.
We can turn things around, though. It’s up to us to break the social boundaries we’ve put up, to watch what we say, to stop acting like enemies and start becoming friends. Because we may all have different interests and personalities and we may have run in different social circles before, but now we are in this together and we’re stuck like this for another year and a half.
So why not make things right?
The next time you’re in biology, or TOK, or English, look around at your classmates. Chances are, you can name at least one good thing about all of them. That’s because in a group of kids like the ones in the IB Class of 2016, there’s a whole lot more good to find than bad.
Here’s my proposition: Focus on the good. Don’t confine yourself to a single social circle. Understand that we’re all a little stressed out. If what the seniors say is true, the worst of it may be over after this semester. But I would love to spend the best of it with all of you, as a weird, slightly dysfunctional but still really amazing IB family.
Now let’s get those diplomas!*
*By get those diplomas I mean get back to doing your homework because let’s face it, most of us are swamped this weekend.
Wow, we really are a bunch of nerds.

On Jeopardy, Anxiety, and What Happens When You Mix the Two

NOTE: This was originally posted on July 22nd on my old blog. I have now moved blogging platforms, and its new home is here!


For those who watched my appearance on Jeopardy! this evening, you know that I lost my quarterfinal—not miserably, but pretty close to it. Although I was crushed at first, losing my lead at the beginning and dropping to last, made worse by my (admittedly idiotic) second-guessing at the Final, I realized that I was still one of fifteen chosen from tens of thousands to compete. That is an achievement unmatched by most of America’s teenagers, and losing my quarterfinal round is nothing to be ashamed of on what is dubbed ‘America’s Toughest Game Show’.
There were a few answers I blanked out on or just flat out messed up (Final Jeopardy included), but a lot of my screw-ups could be attributed to my plain nervousness. To quote a certain Twitter user, “This girl on Teen Jeopardy looks like she’s going to have a heart attack every time she answers.” I agree completely. There is a reason, though, as to why I was the most terrified of all of the contestants.
I suffer from anxiety, and for the longest time, I denied it. I thought it was perfectly okay to live in constant fear and nervousness, but then I came to realize (as did a few doctors who dealt with me in hospitals) that I actually had a real problem. During my sophomore year, it took hold of my life stronger than it ever had, making it impossible for me to sing or dance on stage, two things I love dearly, or to even stand up and speak in class.
Before the worst of my 10th grade anxiety, which spanned about Mid December through Mid March, I had already taken the Online Test for Teen Jeopardy and gone through the live audition process. I did not believe I would be selected for the Tournament, so I was incredibly shocked (but also excited) to get the phone call informing me that I would be one of fifteen contestants to appear on the show. But then the anxiety took over, and my burst of confidence diminished.
I will be the first to admit that I was an absolute wreck in my quarterfinal. My hands were shaking and I barely had control of the buzzer. I was more focused on “Oh no, if I screw up my classmates are going to bully me so much” than the actual game. As it turns out, the bullying did not come from my classmates, but from random people on the internet. There is nothing I can say to that other than that I’m sorry you feel the need to poke fun at my anxiety, and you should be grateful that you don’t suffer from it. I would never wish the burden of being an anxiety-ridden teenager on a national TV game show on you.
While my performance on the show may have been far from extraordinary, my experience was not. I made 14 of the greatest friends I will ever have, I got to be in Hollywood while the Oscars were going on (holy crap), and I got to participate in something tens of thousands of teenagers nationwide dream of doing. I have earned my place as a Jeopardy! Alum, as have all of the other contestants (and I mean ALL of them. I’m sick of seeing people say horrible things about Josiah. He’s our friend). Jeopardy! is something I encourage all of my fellow trivia lovers to audition for.
I have come to the realization that no matter what I do, if I give it my all, I will not be considered a failure. Failure is giving up, and giving up is something that will no longer cross my mind. Coming to this conclusion has set me on a personal journey of overcoming my anxiety—a journey where I continue to make leaps and bounds towards becoming a less nervous, more positive person. For those who have similar goals of defeating the anxiety monster, I wish you the best of luck. You are far more wonderful than you know.
To close, I would like to encourage anyone reading this to watch the entire two weeks of the Jeopardy Teen Tournament. Regardless of who you’re really rooting for, I hope that you will cheer on not only the winners of the quarterfinals, but the recipients of those coveted wild card sports.