Overcoming Concussions
It was the semi-finals of the divisional varsity soccer championship. After missing most of the previous season due to a severe concussion that forced me to complete much of my Sophomore year at home, I was finally back on the pitch. In the dying minutes of the game, score deadlocked at 0-0 the ball was launched my way. I rose up to head the ball, the crowd silent with anticipation. This was my moment, what I had worked so hard to get back to. But the roar of the adoring crowd never came. Instead, I heard the sound of my skull cracking against another player’s head.
My next hazy memory was the doctor diagnosing another severe concussion. I was bedridden for months. I couldn’t read without shooting pain through my head. I couldn’t even look at my phone to live vicariously through my friends’ social media accounts. Nobody could visit and I couldn’t leave the house. I was supposed to be pushing for valedictorian and captaining my soccer team. Instead, I spent my days terrified that I would never again be able to read, let alone make it back to where I had been weeks before. My muscles, mind, and relationships were atrophying when instead I should’ve been thriving.
In recovery, I first found stimulation and connection through podcasts. I tore through Science News, Hardcore History, and the London School of Economics. I listened to anything I could that would expand the horizons of my mind and provide me with insight into the world that I had been isolated from. My favorite podcast was Programming Throwdown, a computer science podcast that stoked my passion for programming and helped me visualize my path in college and beyond.
When I recovered to the point of being able to leave the house, I was forced to take the rest of the year off and repeat my junior year. Once again, I had nothing to do, but I was now able to go out and engage with my community. I wanted to help others who’d lost the ability to read like I had, and joined a nonprofit organization, Learning Ally, that produced audiobooks for students with learning disabilities. The geriatric volunteers and I spent hours recording children’s books, and I made myself a part of this welcoming community, giving me the sense of connection I had lost.
I returned to school a junior, again, questions racing through my mind: Did I waste a whole year of my life? Will I catch up? Will I still be welcome amongst my friends? Though I was behind those that used to be my peers, I was able to use my podcast-driven knowledge of computer science to mentor my new peers and become a leader in AP computer science class. I even got an internship with an electronics company where I used my brain in new ways and performed previously impossible tasks.
I still mourned the year I had lost — maybe wasted — as I continued to work myself back. But one day my friend and I were discussing our shared love of podcasts. He mentioned that his brother’s learning disability had given him trouble reading books, and that he depended on audiobooks to participate in class: audiobooks produced by Learning Ally, the same organization that I worked for. To my friend’s confusion, my eyes welled up and I felt my insecurities over wasted time lift off my shoulders.
I’d always thought the phrase “don’t waste time” meant people should constantly be seeking out new and exciting experiences. To me, not wasting time is now a mindset. Even time that feels lost can be made productive and rewarding. I may not learn the impact of what I’ve done until sometime down the road, if at all. I simply have to trust that by engaging with the communities around me I can make a positive difference.