"Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of your mind."- Ralph Waldo Emerson.

People say politics tear relationships into sheds; that may be true. When I started high school, I wanted to prove that I could lead a class and give everyone a voice. Thus, I desperately tried to win the Grade 9 class presidential election. I enlisted the help of my loyal friends, and we pulled all-nighters, created compelling campaign posters, and wrote persuasive speeches to fight against another powerful candidate, Tom. However, even with many steadfast supporters by my side, Tom was quickly gaining popularity, and I began panicking and doubting my abilities.

So, I made an offer of power-sharing to Tom to have a co-presidential campaign. He pondered, then countered with the position of vice president. In a silky voice, he coaxed, "This is in your interest..." I was intrigued because even though I would do everything I could to win, I still did not want to make an enemy. Moreover, Tom anticipated what I needed to hear, "I won't be running again next year; thus, you will take over. In your election speech, you will support me and be my vice president." Initially, I thought this was the perfect scenario; thus, I hastily shook his hand, but it felt cold. 

Although I wished for a shining diamond descending from Heaven, an ice-cold jagged stone plunged upon me instead. Sadly, this sparkling coalition quickly faltered when I realized it was unfair to the other candidate, Alex. As the alliance constituted a gray zone in the rules, giving Tom and me an advantage, I felt uneasy about limiting Alex's voice and the chance at a fair election. Therefore, I decided to clarify with my teacher if this alliance was even allowed in the first place. When my teacher told me that there would only be one class president, I knew I should try negotiating with Tom to forget about this partnership.

"Tom, how about we do our campaigns separately? If you win, I would love to be your vice president, and if I win, you are welcome to be mine." However, my reasoning dissipated as he hissed, "You promised to be my vice president. Are you backing off of your promise? People in our class don't even think you are competent. Just drop out of the race!" Tom's words crushed my confidence; was I really a failure in the class? Even though I knew we should not bend the rules to benefit ourselves, I was scared to back out of my promise. Every time Tom persisted, I drew back again and again. Frankly, I thought about dropping out and being content with allowing Tom to win. However, the work my friends put into my campaign and my dream of leading the class prevented me; I still wanted to win.

On the day of the election speeches, my pale face, sweaty hands, and trembling body betrayed my attempt at a confidence façade. I closed my eyes and considered the dilemma once more. I didn't want to hurt Tom, yet I knew our actions could harm Alex's chances. "Amy, it's your turn," my teacher's icy voice slashed through my thoughts. Her order backed me against a wall, and my hands were bound in unbreakable chains. In a trembling voice, I began my speech. While I felt the burning stares of my classmates, I did not look up from my crumbled flashcard. I just wanted to run away, yet the chains ensnared me.

"You are bullying Alex!" my teacher barked. Denial. The chains tightened around my throat, and my eyes began to water. I could not breathe as if I were drowning, without a lifeline, without anything to grasp onto. All the built-up frustration, the stress, and the pressure spilled over. I had a panic attack, and everything became blurred except the word I kept repeating: no.

Alex won by a landslide, and everyone in my class celebrated except Tom and me. I refused to look at him since the speeches. Depression. I thought my world had ended. I could not dare to look my friends in the eyes; I disappointed them. They sacrificed their precious time to help me win, not Alex and not Tom. In their minds, I basically dropped out of the race to let others steal my place. Guilt gripped my soul, rain poured down, and the stares down the hallways became blinding. Voices pierced my heart, slashing deep, unforgiving down my body. For weeks I felt alone; the chains dragged me into the depth of my sorrow. Until, suddenly, something snapped. Anger. All I could see was blinding rage, and the chains scorched the earth. People avoided me when they saw my clenched jaws, balled-up fists, and death glares that would terrify the wildest beasts. My hatred for Tom consumed me, "That manipulative snake! None of this would have happened if he didn't force me against my will!"

A month went by without my anger quelling. My mom knew I needed to move past everything. Thus, she asked me this simple question: how would you change the outcomes? Bargaining. Initially, I blamed Tom, but it suddenly felt childish. I was in denial of my faults. The days I spent pushing the responsibility onto him blinded me to reality.

I should have said no, especially when my gut told me it would harm Alex. I betrayed my integrity. I let others dictate my actions. I abandoned my principles, even daring to go against my reason to be class president in the first place. My mind knew this was a mistake, but I ignored it to satisfy my goals. Frankly, I could continue to blame it on Tom, live in my fears, and keep playing the victim; yet it does not excuse my actions. My ambitions devoured my initial purpose. Winning was my intent throughout the entire race, thus, allowing my ambitions to rise above my integrity, entangling me in a trap of my own making. Why would I look for shortcuts to satisfy my desires if I was not desperate to reach my goal? I could not blame Tom; I was the one making the choices. While my thirst for power silenced my resolve, I will not let it silence my integrity again.

Acceptance. I truly believed I would never reconcile with Tom, especially after I saw the flaws in my ways; I was ashamed. Yet, fate has other plans. During sports day, Tom and I were on the same team and had to work together. Initially, the chains binding me made me hesitant, but I still held out a hand to him, anxiously waiting for his response… and he shook it. To others, it seemed like teammates helping one another, but to me, it was an olive branch, a sign to move past our old disagreements. That handshake felt warm and inviting, like old friends long lost. We both smiled and started laughing.

Finally, the chains shattered, and I am thankful for this journey. Anyone, not just teens, can easily be trapped by the luring scent of power and glory. Moreover, when people face the loss of ambitious dreams, the easiest path to take is scapegoating, as it temporarily alleviates the pain by believing nothing is your fault. However, we must focus on our purpose and learn from our faults; ambitions cannot silence our integrity.