By Hutton Mann Shaw

It seems as though when we are children, all we want is to grow up, yet when we do, all we want is to go back. I never would have thought I would look back on my grade 6 self and wish to live his life, but here I am. When I was 12, going to Rosedale Public School, I was far from perfect. To make matters worse, my oblivious and ignorant self thought I was the opposite. Although this was naive, it came with positives. Apart from five minutes of homework, I had nothing to worry about, and therefore, endless fun to enjoy. Constantly having something exciting to look forward to, I lived a joyful life. Among my many awesome experiences, soccer topped the list. In particular, the grade 6 soccer semi-final is one of my happiest memories from that fantastic year. Looking back to that moment, as I reflect on this past school year, it makes me sad. I anticipated this year would be one of new experiences, putting myself out there, and everything that speaks joy. Unfortunately, due to COVID, my plans changed, along with my mental state. Despite this year of far too little joy, I have learned several lessons that will guide the rest of my life.

I would usually wake up at 8:00, but on the day of the semi-final, I was so pumped that I set an alarm for 7:00, allocating myself far more time than I would ever need. On top of this, I had already packed my bag for the day and laid out all my clothes along the bean bag chair in my room. As the calming music from my alarm clock twinkled into my ears, practically smiling, I awoke. Lifting the covers off my body and throwing them to the side, I stepped down from my bed, careful not to wake my brothers. I got dressed, and holding back the urge to jump my way down the stairs, I tiptoed to the kitchen. I always ate breakfast, and so had some Rice Krispies. They tasted better than usual. To make the day even more special, both my mom and dad drove me to school, and I got to go in my dad’s small Fiat. My life was a dream. I arrived at school a few minutes early, and quickly noticed my friends, all of them wearing their makeshift jerseys. I quickly hopped on the trend, and also wrote my name on the back of my shirt. After embarrassingly kissing my parents goodbye, I boarded the bus for Whitney Public School. Unfortunately, the first half of the game did not go our way, but it would have taken a lot worse for our spirits to be crushed.

I clumsily sat down on the bench by the field, no worries whatsoever. Sweat dripped from my forehead and mud covered my legs. It was half time, and we were down 3-0. No matter how roughed up we were, the smiles on our faces were immeasurable. We were having the time of our lives, like we always did. The sun shone down onto the middle of the field, revealing the demolished grass and the posts with no crossbars for nets. It smelled like a fresh spring day, and all I could hear was birds chirping and the laughing of teammates. One of the moms who volunteered to help our team was handing out giant Freezies. If it were even possible, smiles widened. Our coach knelt before us, a Freezie in his right hand and a clipboard in the left. He had a plan for us to score. Unlike in the classroom, we didn’t mind listening. After all, we wanted to win. As the coach wrapped up the pep talk, with almost perfect timing, the ref blew his whistle. The second half of the game was starting.

Blood rushed to my legs as I lifted my body from the bench. I was ready to play. All around me my teammates were also getting ready for the second half. The opposing team was good, but we knew we could beat them. Walking to our positions, we moved with a slight swagger, believing we were going to come back. The first six minutes of the game saw minimal action. At around the seventh minute of this second half, the opposing team was called offside, giving us a free kick. I had been waiting for this moment all game, a chance for me to make a difference. Perfectly positioning the ball on an elevated patch of grass, I glanced at my new cleats, ideal for this situation. They allowed me to kick the ultimate long range pass, which is exactly what I did. We did not capitalize on this opportunity as the ball was grabbed by the goalie too quickly, but it was certainly a confidence boost. In fact, on the next play, my friend Daniel, a 5th grade prodigy, scored an awesome goal. Following that, about five minutes later, my other friend scored a header. I was so stoked. There was about ten minutes left, and we were still down by a goal. Feeding off the cheering from the parents and coach, I was tremendously motivated to score. Sure enough, my moment came with seven minutes on the clock. The ball was in the opponent’s end, and they were trying to clear it. Just as I was taught, I applied pressure, stole the ball, and gently tipped it into the net. It was amazing. The game was tied.

The ball moved back and forth from our end to theirs, and the tension peaked. With 3 minutes left, my team made one final attempt to score with a big shot from inside the box. The opposing goalie made a fantastic save, and we all awaited a penalty shootout. Then the unexpected happened. The goalie booted the ball all the way towards our net, catching our goalie off guard. The ball bounced over his head and into the net. There were no crossbars, so it was an official goal. We were deeply disappointed–some of my teammates were even crying. However soul-wrenching the loss was, it wasn’t the end of the world; we had a party shortly after.

As I reflect on this grand experience that was grade 6 soccer and compare it to my current life, I have made what I think is a profound realization. It would be an understatement to say that over this past year, due to COVID, I have spent a lot of time doing school work. With nothing else to do, I decided to work really hard and to prioritize school over fun. Obviously, there are positives to spending most of your time doing schoolwork. For instance, I have never done as well as I have this year, and I have truly discovered my potential. I now know that if I want to do really well on anything in school, with enough time, I can do it. I have also developed great routines for studying, and I have learned more this year than ever before.

Despite learning lots, spending all day doing schoolwork and having little fun in my life has not come without an impact. When there is little to look forward to, or that is how it seems, it is difficult to stay motivated. Schoolwork, without something fun to follow, is very draining. I have found that with my current arrangements, without tennis and consistent visits with friends, I am ultimately less happy, and therefore have not been able to provide joy for others. Being drained and hardly motivated has also affected my sleep schedule. I now go to bed far later, causing me to wake up later, or exhausted. Furthermore, in realizing my potential in school, I have become much harder on myself about grades. What used to be a great grade is now not even acceptable. As I notice the effects of minimal fun, and not having much to look forward to, I have realized how important joy really is and why life is so challenging. Despite all my privilege, I have struggled for balance during COVID. I can only imagine how difficult it might be without such privilege.

Although I am not overjoyed that I decided to spend this year the way I did, I have learned an important lesson. It is more than necessary for me to have joy, and sporting events, and plans with friends to look forward to in my life, as they provide me and those around me with happiness and motivation. In reality, getting high 90s on all school projects should not be my main focus, nor really a focus at all. In lieu of this year, I have made a promise to myself to find joy in all of my future endeavours, especially while I’m young. Just as my grade 6 self did, I will live a life worth remembering. After all, enjoying life is what makes it worth living.