The Power of a Scholarship

4 months from now, I’ll be racing at The RAD Dirt Fest in Trinidad, Colorado. I’d say all because of a scholarship, but the scholarship comes after the first part. 

You have to apply. 

Applying to a scholarship is a unique mix of believing in yourself and being okay with asking for help to get there. 

I could have figured out how to pay the race fee, and the travel costs, and probably thought about it a really long time. But I wasn’t confident about it. I was hesitant. 

And then I won the scholarship. 

It felt like a boost of somebody pushing me up a hill. To have somebody else, this mysterious selection committee on my team. A boost of confidence in me - I belong on that start line next to very, very qualified, competitors. 

I didn’t apply to many scholarships in high school. I really struggled with that first part of feeling worthy of entering. Now that I’m a little more well-versed in cognitive behavioral therapeutic techniques, I know if I had examined those thoughts about feeling worthy, they were not actually backed up by any tangible evidence. I had to ask a science teacher for a letter of recommendation to participate in a summer internship program my junior year of high school. I didn’t even think the teacher knew my name, let alone which class I was in. I was wrong, he wrote me a lovely letter, and I had a great experience interning with the San Diego Zoo. (As a result of this experience, I try really hard to learn all of my students’ names and use them frequently. There are mnemonic devices and memory techniques that can help anyone learn names well. #psychterm)  That first experience of asking for a letter of recommendation, asking somebody to write on paper all these things that they think about you and your abilities, was terrifying to me as a sixteen year old. But I’m so glad I asked. 

It’s graduation day, and one thing I’d like to tell my seniors that completed high school is that scholarship season isn’t over. There’s going to be more chances for you to earn an opportunity. Some scholarships are formal, others may be more of a subtle invitation. Sometimes you’re in the right place at the right time, or in my case, following the right Instagram account or Facebook group. That’s networking skills at work. Scholarship organizers really, really want you to apply to their awards, but you’ve got to actively do some searching to make those connections. I don’t know if any students took up the offer of Outdoor Outreach’s bicycle program, or a summer job working with pack mules in the Sierras, but I advertised those to my classes this year, if students were checking their messages. 

Scholarships often don’t cover the whole bit. There’s still a lot of costs that are going to be involved with racing. 

I turned down a pretty decent scholarship package to a college that was much farther away from home because of all of the added costs of travel and the logistics of just getting there. I had to take a number of busses and the trolley through downtown San Diego to get to and from my internship at the zoo that summer. I didn’t realize how differently I lived compared to some of the other students from other parts of the county. There’s been a lot written about the challenges of college scholarship recipients experiencing a socio-economic culture shock. Again, I’m not here to write extensively on that research, but I’ve experienced a taste of it as a teenager, a bit as a young adult, and I’m still thinking about what it means to come from a background like mine with a future in participating in racing events. (Future post for sure.)

 Tangent, about 3 years ago, I thought about getting into running with the ultimate goal of qualifying for the Boston Marathon. Then I found out the average participant spends about $5,000 to run the Boston Marathon- that’s the airfare, hotel, race fee around the event, not working with a coach, running shoes, racing qualifying events, etc. I found that to be really disheartening, and didn’t really work on my running skills. 

So, I think about money a lot as it relates to recreation, but also money as a gift. People can give you money, or things of monetary value, really quite easily. This is a phenomenal concept. 

You cannot be gifted health and wellness in the same way. 

I’m thankful for the scholarship to the Rad Fest, so that I can put in some work on my own personal health and wellness so that I can be a better mom to my kids, and feel better as I’m looking at my 40s next year. 

Thanks for reading, plenty of more thoughts to come, if you’d like to drop an emoji in the comments to let me know you’re out there, I’d appreciate it, but after a year of online teaching, I’m also mostly okay with sending my thoughts out into the void. :)

Empathy for the First Time AP Student

 (Yep, it’s been awhile since I’ve posted. But that’s for another time. I have some pressing thoughts to share.) 

On my most recent rides, I’ve been thinking about *that* kid in my AP Psychology class. 

That kid who looks around on the first day, and doesn’t know many people. There’s some groups of people who have known each other for awhile, and this kid kind of stands out as not being quite sure where they fit in yet. 

This kid probably has never taken an AP class before, but they signed up for this one, as a challenge. One AP class as a stretch goal, dipping a toe in the water of a higher academic challenge. 

There’s plenty of kids who turn down my invites to join my AP course. “Nah, Miss, it’s too much work.” “I just want to have fun this year.” “I could do AP… but I don’t think I want to do that extra reading.” 

I’ve been feeling a lot of empathy for the student who chose to take an AP class for the first time. 

When you’re surrounded by classmates who sound like they know what they’re talking about, and you’re totally in over your head, mentally making a note of what to look up when you get home. On my last ride, hearing gear nerds talking about their gear ratios and cassette sizes, I’m staying quiet, and hoping nobody quizzes me on what my bike has, like that kid has the look that they hope the teacher doesn’t call on them. I can appreciate learning about this, and I’m excited to be able to participate in this discussion, but it feels overwhelming right now because I’m just trying to learn the terrain. 

I’ve signed up for some epic gravel events and I’m really not sure if I belong there yet. The distance feels daunting, and I’ve had all the thoughts about this. Did I take somebody else’s space? Somebody who would do better? Why am I putting myself in a position where I’m going to struggle, a lot? 

I know the end result will be really rewarding. I’m going to feel really amazing for challenging myself. I’m going to be an athlete, competing in a gravel races, in some incredibly remote, mountainous terrain this fall. 

Right now, I’m a novice in the dirt, doing a lot of homework, practicing, practicing, and practicing my skills. I’m comparing myself to the advanced group that has a lot more experience and a lot more confidence, but I’m fighting those feelings about belonging. I absolutely belong at the start line, just like that kid absolutely deserves that seat in the class. We’re willing to put in the work to make it happen, even when it feels uncomfortable at first. 

I’m thankful for the kind people who invited me to join them, both online and in group rides, and really excited to learn from their expertise. Like the kid joining the first AP class, surrounding yourself by people who are going to be just above your level, in this zone of proximal development (tossing out a term from Lev Vyzotzky for any of my students who have read this far!) is one of the best ways to grow. 

More AP/bicycle connections to come…