Who am I?

It took some time for the idea to sink in that I was no longer a baseball player.

Looking around the baseball field at the other players packing up their baseball bags with different expressions on each their faces, I could tell whether they were going to be a Varsity baseball player or not based off of their body language. One player was ferociously throwing his stuff in his bag, and another with his friends with a huge smile on his face. Each player was called one at a time to speak with the coaches. Everyone was nervous - even the returning Varsity players. When I was called I was nervous, not nervous of not making the team, but nervous that I may have to continue with something I no longer use to identify myself. I knew I didn’t want to play baseball anymore. Sitting down with the coaches, I was told there wasn’t a spot for me on the team.

Up to that point, my whole identity had been centered around me being a baseball player. I had to really consider who I was without baseball. With more free time than I’d ever had, I had the time to think about who I was and what I wanted to do with my future.

I started considering other things about myself that I had somewhat ignored during my baseball years - I really love history, learning about other cultures, and traveling. I never had time to devote to these things in prior years because of baseball.   

 With my new found passions, I went on a serving trip to Guatemala in the summer before senior year. I was able to do what interests me most - exploration. During my trip I visited a variety of different locations. When we landed in Guatemala city, it seemed as though a volcano hasn't erupted the previous week. The land was clean. I couldn’t pinpoint any areas of damage caused from the volcano, but it was easy to spot the already existing poverty and rundown towns with garbage and stray dogs everywhere. We traveled on what seemed like a regular school bus. We went through what seemed like abandoned villages, but were really just a regular town in Guatemala. The roads were almost always dirt, or they were bumpy cobblestone streets with potholes seemingly everywhere.. We drove for about five hours to the west to a well known city called Quetzaltenango, or better known as Xela. From Xela we went to Retalhuleu. Retalhuleu was not like like Xela - somehow it was poorer. There were not streets, it was all dirt. The houses had no brick walls, they were all rusty pieces of sheet metal leaning against each other. When we got to Retalhuleu, I knew I was about have an experience of a lifetime.

Overall, my trip taught me how much I can learn about myself when I let the past go and remain open to new things. I used to see myself as only a baseball player, but now I am see myself as many things.