Project 1 Final Draft

Marya Ali

Mat Wenzel

ENC 2135-63

8 October 2017

Project 1:

Bananas of the World Unite! Peel to the Left! Peel to the Right! I could hear it loud and clear. I could hear the energetic shouts of brothers and sisters coming together. All I could see surrounding me were flashes of rich purple and shiny gold and nerdy variations of shirts with Star Wars and Pokemon references in Latin. Flowy white cloth marching. Leather sandals tied around feet. Ornate crowns carefully crafted from laurel leaves. Everywhere I turned I found kids my age passionately arguing about Latin phrases used in Harry Potter spells or how they had found mythology references in the latest book they were reading. I had never felt more at home in a crowd. I found myself thinking over and over again “these are my people”.

Despite what you may envision, what I am describing is not some extravagant congregation in ancient Rome but one of a kind of “Roman descendants” who proudly carry on that honorary torch of the great ancient civilizations of Greece and Rome in celebration of their literature, language, and arts, The National Junior Classical League.

When I was a small spare girl barely beginning middle school, I was faced with what one would consider during that age to be an important choice, a turning point of sorts. Which language should I take for the next two years of my life possibly even four considering high school class requirements? Yes, there were much less nerdy issues to worry about, but that’s what I am, a nerd. It felt like every Pokemon game I had played as a child. At the beginning of the game, I was faced with three choices that would determine how my game went. Here, again, I had three choices. However, I was always certain with my choices there. Here there was no clear option as simple as fire types are just better. My supportive parents were split as well. I had taken Spanish for all 5 years in Elementary school. That should make it a clear choice right? On the other hand, my ambitions are to become a physician, and I was told that the fields of science and medicine were full of Latin and the classics, influence of Hippocrates, Greek Derivatives, and great ancient thinkers. I reasoned in my head that Spanish was also a great skill to choose for a prospective physician. However, what was it that I wanted to take? I cannot say that I remember for certain how I concluded this dilemma. There was no magical “aha” moment like there are in movies or some sort of suddenly realized clarity that literally or figuratively lit the path for me. However, what I do remember is that something kept drawing me to that little room at the left end of school. My heart felt pulled there and even without intending, I kept having coincidences that would lead to that same warm place. It felt like home. And, that is exactly what was there, a family. Perhaps, I was fascinated by the vibrant art spilling out of the little door. Perhaps, I fell in love with the passion of the Latin Family. I found that passion to be so contagious. Once I passed through that little door, I was thrown back in time. I felt like I had stepped into a lively debate in Ancient Rome or perhaps a learning circle listening to one of the great philosophers. Everything was right there when you entered the room. In the time of confusing adolescence in middle school, when being a cheerleader was the pinnacle of popularity for a girl and liking Harry Potter and Pokemon were social suicide, I entered the world where nerds ruled and found my family. However, I would have to work harder than I realized if I wanted to feel truly accepted into this “elite” family of nerds.

Quick hands. Sharp buzzes. The smell of old books. Empty campus. I could hear a room full of people laughing. Yes, he really did lose to chickens from his boat in the ocean! I swear it happened in that story! I don’t care if it’s a small detail! Yes, I did just recognize the artist of that vase from the shape of the handles! I understand that they look similar, but clearly, these two words are derived from different roots! Here, here, look it up! As I joined more and more of these practices, I found that Latin Fam was more of a “Boys Club” where the High Rollers were the super intellectual guys who could buzz in Certamen at what looked to me like the speed of light before the question even completed. I noticed that girls were there more for the art projects and scarp booking. However, I was a feisty little 6th grader, and I found myself obsessed. I would be accepted, and I would be just as fast as those boys. I could almost taste the sweet feeling of victory that I could see each of their eye’s hungry for.

As I was caught up in one the latest app trends, I joined an online quiz game and was elated to find a Greek category. I became obsessed and played that category over and over again until I became #1 “in the virtual global competition”. I knew that that was my first step towards my goal. I felt full of confidence that even I could beat those top guys on our school team. I also knew that this would not happen over night. I took myself to every single study session there was. A girl from another school at State who later became my close friend told me that I looked really intimidating by how quickly I was speeding through my Quizlet flashcards. Yes, I even went to every study session three times a week during the summer. While most middle school girls dreamed of adventures to the beach to show off their newest bikinis and fill their Instagram with similar trendy photos, I would cheerfully put on my soft purple T shirt “Eat, Sleep, Latin, Repeat” and head over to the “Tioga Bucks” Starbucks for hours of study session marathons with my team in preparation for Nationals.

I could see my studying paying off everywhere I went. Everywhere we went I would obsessively bug my parents with “the dissection” of words around us. I could see the Greek and Latin from my books all around me. I would point our words in the airport, in billboards, in magazines, and anywhere. I would read a bicycle sign as “two wheels” coming “bi-two” and “kyklos-wheel” and random words like hippopotamus as “river horse” coming from “hippos-horse” and “potamus-water or river”. While people would simply see the typical directions and names, I could see the Greek roots exploding out from the signs as if someone was magically illuminating that part of a word and taking me to Ancient Greece. My “Dead Language” was alive for me everywhere. I felt like a scientist or explorer who had a special microscope or kind of optic to see the cultural DNA surrounding us.

The sky is clear. The day is hot. The seemingly never-ending line of togas continues forward. The air is full of excitement. Surrounded by our dearest friends, we raise our cheers, each one louder than the last. Many becoming one. Yet, out of many, there being each one.

I didn’t succeed right away. I found it could be very hard to break the theme of what was expected or typical for girls. I dared to be different. I started as an alternate on the Certamen team. I boldly chased my goal honing and using the Greek and Latin derivative skills I had learned like superhero powers to fight my way forward. Little by little, I gave my best and did what I loved. From Regionals to State to Nationals, I practiced year round and attended every small Certamen and Agon competition in between getting faster and faster even if it meant I was the only girl other than one of our teachers to go. I remember crying with my friend after the tests at our first Nationals where we each placed 4th in the nation in our respective subjects because we were both one question away from making the top 3 out of the thousands of students there. However, this was proof that I was getting stronger. This was proof that I could make it. I felt the rushes of competitiveness run through me pushing me to go even further.

I entered my second Nationals held at Emory University as a high school freshman. I felt nervous yet confident with a challenging attitude. I was there to win this time. Surrounded by my team, my family, I raised my voice as loud as I could with them as we prepared for our “battle”. On the third afternoon of the competition, I entered my Agon team into the competition with a nervous hand and eyes craving victory. We were required to come up with a team name unlike in Certamen, and I cleverly denoted the four of us as #DelphiBelievesWeWillWin in hopes that the great oracle’s powers would be on our side. I was thrilled when my team picked me as the team captain to lead them. It was during this competition that I felt that rush of the fast buzzers I had always looked up to. My fingers moved as fast as my brain, and I can only describe the feeling as exhilarating. Before I could even process it, we had beat every team and made it to the finals. I clung to the cloth I had wrapped around my hand as we entered the large hall for the finals and took in the crowd there to watch. I was terrified and excited at the same time. I must have had the strongest desire to win out of everyone in the room because my hands clicked the buzzer and answered faster than I ever thought I could. Suddenly, I heard a chorus of cheers from the rest of our Latin Fam who had come to support us. I lined up with my team for a picture in our semi matching shirts with the biggest smiles on our faces. Big rewards come from courage, and I proudly let my smile grow as the sole girl on the team and the leader.

As I entered that little room at the corner of school, I could feel it all. The warmth of memories of team journeys soon to come. The cold bus rides back from a competition with fire in our hearts. The tears of sadness. The tears of joy. The tears from feeling too much and not being afraid to show it. It was almost enough to cry in that moment. I could feel it all from their kind smiles and their support. I wanted to join them and lead, and so, I did. For my four years through high school, I helped lead as an officer our Latin Fam to be four times in a row State champions. Our nerdy family became the top dogs of the school, and I gained the confidence to pursue anything that I was passionate about and be myself. Amicitiae nostrae memoriam spero sempiternam fore (I hope that the memory of our friendship will be everlasting-Cicero).