Losing
I found out about a week and a half ago that I have been cut from the Golden Apple competition. The news unceremoniously arrived in my mail box in the form of a very polite and direct letter. Thanks but no thanks.
The day I got the phone call that I was a semi-finalist, I literally burst in to tears standing in my principal’s office at school. I never thought I’d hear from the organization again, and now they were sending out a representative to meet me and watch me teach. It was thrilling and overwhelming and gratifying and wonderful. The woman came the next week and after spending about two hours with me, informed me that she was impressed. She was very encouraging and excited, and said that, although there were no guarantees, she would be recommending me as a finalist. The girl who didn’t think she had a shot actually believed she might have a prayer.
I really didn’t think it would matter if/when I got cut. I’d never planned to get this far, so why did it bother me? I literally sat in my garage and cried as I read the rejection letter…and then I cried to my friends on the phone, and cried to J later that night. It felt so silly…grieving over something that I never had…and then it hit me.
I have a lot of ugly memories associated with “losing.” It seems that my history is peppered with moments of competitive loss tied to times of grief. It sounds strange, but as I thought about what I felt was a pretty strong reaction to the end of the road for this award, it made a lot of sense.
My most significant memory of loss was not being accepted into the All-State choir in high school (after having made it the previous year). Not the end of the world. However, two weeks before, my father lost his job, we were in the midst of preparing to move (again), and a rather intense high school romance came to a screeching halt. All in the span of about a month. What did I react to? Not making the choir. Hmmm….
I’m all better now by the way (at least in reference to the G.A.) and I am thankful to have had the experience (doesn’t that sound like a plattitude?!)
Now I have to tackle my taxes…but that’s another subject for another day.
