Ever since I was a little girl my Mom has pushed me to do lots of activities. By the time I finished elementary school, I had done ballet, soccer, religion classes, acting, running, writing, coding, choir, girl scouts, skiing, and violin, never really staying any activity for longer than two years, and when I entered middle school it was no different. Choir, violin, acting, community service, girl scouts, the butterfly garden, book clubs, all at my Mom’s consistent nagging. It was something I had grown used to by the time I reached eighth grade. The constant reminder of college even if I was barely 13. “You should join more clubs,” was a phrase I came used to hearing at the start of every single year, whether I was doing one activity already or five. It didn’t help that I didn’t really care for most of the activities I had done in elementary school, skiing has made me cry more times than I would have liked, running was only done because they gave you potato chips at the end of the season, religion was a bore my first year and barely counted in my second in my opinion, overall it was less of me wanting to do something and more of my Mom dragging me around to various activities regardless of what I thought of them. Although in middle school I got more control over what I did and my enjoyment in my extracurricular activities increased there was still plenty that I was in because they offered something at the end, (choir was only done because I got into a handful of honor choirs and got candy at the end of every rehearsal) or because it was too late to back out. (I did consider to stop playing the violin, but then we bought one) However, there had always been one club that hung over my head, and that was the National Junior Honor Society. 

I’m still not sure what exactly being a member of NJHS means, or even what you’re supposed to do when you are in it, but I do know that it made me do a whole lot of community service. Ever since sixth grade, whether I was headed out to sell merchandise for my sister at football games or going to the food bank with my girl scout troop, I would bring along a sheet and have the person in charge sign it. The summer after seventh grade I was working at the butterfly garden, I brought that sheet, if I was doing community service club, that sheet was there. I never really did community service for the heck of it, it was always for that sheet of paper. I did so much community service that I ended up doing two full sheets, and although I can’t remember my total number of hours, I do remember going way over the bare minimum. 

I also remember getting an email, only a few weeks before the school shut down, about being given the chance to join NJHS. All I had to do was fill out the complete form, with all my accomplishments, activities, leadership roles, community service hours, along with three filled out questions, get it signed by my house principal along with two other teachers, along with people who would vouch for me joining their club, and then get enough points to pass the bar. Easy, right?. It felt like an extra homework assignment, like at the beginning of the year when teachers hand out those “Tell me about yourself!” forms, only with a lot more at stake. A hell of a lot more. I remember having my Mom look over my answers with a critical eye and having to stay after school just so I could finish up the form, and still feeling incredibly weak in some areas, sure I wouldn’t get in. 

Sure I had technically been preparing for this since sixth grade, and sure, I had plenty of activities, but one of my “leadership” rolls was literally just teaching some people a dance from the musical we were doing and the other one was helping with a group project. Compared to some of the other kids that were filling out their forms, my strong suit was the two pages of community service, most of which came from the summer at the butterfly garden. Other kids were on the student council, or in charge of various clubs that helped around the community. So when I turned my form in, I was ready to get no reply, or a reply that said I wasn’t accepted, I didn’t know which was better.

To add to my ever-growing pile of doubt for myself, I was experiencing imposter syndrome for the first time, as biology quickly proved to not be my strong suit, my averages went from straight A’s to A’s and B’s in the second quarter, and the high schoolers that warned against taking all of the enrichments in eighth grade whose advice I had ignored. And for the cherry on top of an anxiety-inducing sunday the honors English test was coming up and with the rapid development of Covid-19 in the US, stressors quickly became part of my everyday life. 

It was odd, living in a sea of stressors, I became used to drowning in them. Practice the violin, get ready to lead the Girl Scout meeting, study for biology, get ready for the musical, get ready for high school, sign up for that magnet school, work on your English essay, practice your lines, stay informed about Covid-19, don’t upset Mom or Dad, don’t disappoint Mom or Dad. It became second nature to sit in bed at night, a growing pit of worries and anxieties in my stomach, pushing back tears, as I tried to fall asleep. And with so many waves of stress and anxiety came crashing, pushing me down against the floor of the sea, the notion of NJHS became obsolete, a raindrop in a thunderstorm, a splash in a wave, completely and utterly forgettable. So as the club slipped to the back of my mind, only brought up when my Mom asked me about it, imagine my surprise when I got an email with the subject line “Congratulations” from a contact I didn’t know. 

I can’t remember the time of day I got the email, but I do remember being in the kitchen with my Mom. I remember opening the email confused, was it spam? That magnet school I applied for? Something else entirely? I remember reading the email, a grin making room for itself on my face, pushing away the bags I had started to develop from lack of sleep, as I turned to my Mom and muttered the words “I got in”

We never got a proper ceremony, just a note on our slides and a certificate in our envelopes at the end of the year. I didn’t get to invite my friends over, and dress up, and accept thanks from the teachers in charge, but I did get that moment in the kitchen. I did get my Mom turning to me confused as I shoved my phone in her face, I did get to text all my friends as we congratulated each other for making it in. I got to see a long term goal pay off, for the first time in my life. 

I still suffer from imposter syndrome, I’ve had plenty of moments in Honors English alone, I still argue with my mom about me doing activities, she is convinced that I should try skiing again, I still think that I suck as a leader, though I am trying to get better, but when I doubt my abilities, I can look back to that moment in the kitchen and push forward, because hey, I’m a member of National Junior Honor Society, and that’s gotta count for something.