The way I viewed the world and my understanding of life completely shifted when three words came into play. Upon reflection, those specific words held tremendous importance. The phrase “think about it” had never carried such weight for me until then. I never expected that three simple words could have such a profound effect on someone’s existence, but they forever transformed mine. “Think about it” became the most influential expression I had ever come across. The impact of these words was heightened by both the person who uttered them and the manner in which they were conveyed, commanding my complete focus and contemplation.
In my elementary school years, I exhibited a negative attitude and rebellious behavior. Even though my mother worked as a teacher assistant at the same school, I consistently misbehaved throughout the eight-hour school day. When sixth grade started, my teacher made it clear that he would not tolerate disruptive conduct. I felt personally targeted by his words but chose to ignore them and continued causing trouble. Despite our conflicts, there was an underlying sense of mutual respect between us. Throughout the school year, I found myself purposefully testing boundaries and challenging authority. However, it was an incident involving a girl that ultimately triggered a significant change in my intellectual development.
While walking back to class with a girl after gym, we were making our way from the basement gym to our fourth-floor classroom. Despite my reputation for misbehavior and her being female, I felt an urge to do something amusing or eliciting a reaction from her. As we ascended the stairs, I turned around and placed my hands where they should not have been. In response, she emitted a loud scream and without any delay, I sprinted up the stairs at an impressive speed akin to Carl Lewis. It is conceivable that her cry reverberated throughout the building and caught the attention of anyone present inside. Realizing that if she reported my actions to the teacher – who was waiting for me – it could result in suspension, I swiftly departed from the scene and made a beeline for my classroom.
Running to the second floor, I sought refuge in the cafeteria where a stage was located, confident that I would not be discovered. Hidden behind curtains on the stage, there was an abandoned closet containing old pianos and instruments. The closet, with its wet ceilings and eerie darkness, was intimidating and filled with uncertainty. Although I waited anxiously for my teacher to find me, he never did. While hiding in the closet, I yearned to announce my whereabouts to everyone, but I feared the consequences and the potential punishment from both the school and my mother. As a search ensued throughout the school, I pondered the perception others would have of me once I eventually emerged from my hiding place – a coward, a pervert, or a disgraceful individual. Realizing that coming out of hiding sooner would likely result in a less severe punishment, I debated internally. Time seemed to pass swiftly within the confines of the closet; what felt like only a few hours turned out to be several hours when I finally revealed my face, around 2:00. In moments of trouble, time hastens, yet in dull situations, it becomes interminable. For me, however, time flew by due to intermittent naps, making it seem as though I had spent only a brief period in the closet.
After mustering the bravery to expose my authentic identity, I discovered myself isolated in the cafeteria. By chance, both individuals I avoided encountering entered: my mother (accompanied by Mr. Keulaber). Tears cascaded down her cheeks as I questioned whether she was enraged. Astonishingly, she responded, “No, I was merely concerned.” During the duration when I concealed my truth, it became universally presumed that either an abduction had occurred or I had vanished.
Sitting alone at the desk in the principal’s office, my mom had brought me there. The principal was still searching for me within the school. As I waited, I overheard an announcement stating that “Michael has been found.” It occurred to me that the girl did not disclose what I had done. Upon her return to class, the teacher asked about my whereabouts and she made up an excuse, saying that I had disappeared and she didn’t know where I was. The teacher seemed unaware of my absence during the day. Surprisingly, there was no mention of what happened with the girl; instead, now I faced trouble for running away.
My mom came back into the office and asked why I hid in the closet. I explained that I needed a break from everyone and wanted to be alone. Even though we were in the office, my mother’s narrowed eyes showed her anger towards me. It dawned on me that I was in serious trouble and prayed to God for survival in this self-inflicted situation.
If by some chance, I managed to escape this situation without getting hurt, I promised myself never to do anything wrong again as long as I lived.
Entering the office together were my teacher, Mr. Keulaber, and the principal, Mrs. Kunkel. They both seemed serious, and I hoped to be punished by Mrs. Kunkel rather than my mom or Mr. Keulaber. However, it was Mr. Keulaber who initiated the interrogation and became intimidating. Sitting in the principal’s visitor chair, I just wanted it all to end quickly.
Mr. Keulaber began by asking me, “What is wrong with you?” Unable to respond, I stayed silent. He explained that he had 29 other students to worry about and couldn’t focus solely on me as he was only one person; since I wasn’t cooperating with him, he wished for a nice conversation between my mom and me at home. Relieved that Mr. Keulaber was done with me, now it was only my mother left to confront.
When it came time for my mom to speak, she uttered those dreaded words: “I will see you when I get home.” With her part in the situation concluded, I was left alone with Mrs. Kunkel. That day she made me feel so small that I never wanted discipline from her again; this experience taught me an important lesson about people not always matching up with my perceptions.
Experiencing the worst punishment imaginable was beyond belief. Upon arriving home, I switched on the television and anticipated my mother’s return from work. As soon as she came in, her initial command was for me to go straight to bed. To avoid any witty remarks from my siblings, I promptly headed to my room and quickly dozed off.
Although it was still early evening with the sun visible until around 6:30pm, my mother woke me up near midnight. Instead of rousing me for dinner, she desired a conversation. We all gathered around the round table in the kitchen, with me occupying the head chair akin to King Arthur at his legendary round table.
In a drowsy state between sleep and wakefulness, I had to respond to countless questions that seemed never-ending. Their words didn’t hold much significance; they were merely heard but not truly absorbed.
I felt fortunate that this time my mom went easy on me, possibly influenced by my sister and brothers who persuaded her to engage in dialogue rather than resorting to physical punishment. If she had discovered the true reason behind my escape, she would have administered a beating right then and there in front of the principal.
The next day at school, my encounter with Mr. Keulabor, my teacher, became a significant obstacle that would change the course of my life forever. Upon entering the classroom after everyone else, I had intended to apologize to the girl I had an altercation with the previous day. Unfortunately, I bypassed her desk unintentionally and quietly muttered my apology. My motive for doing so was to prevent my mother from taking disciplinary actions against me like what I did to the girl. Despite nobody else being aware of this situation, finding solace in recognizing my mistake, I hurriedly made my way towards the back of the classroom where my desk awaited me. Relieved that the incident was behind me and grateful that she kept it confidential, I settled into my chair.
At that moment, Mr. Keulabor began his lesson by displaying “WHAT DO YOU PICTURE YOURSELF AS AND DOING IN 10 YEARS” on the chalkboard. Our assigned task was to compose an in-class essay on this topic. Although attempting to follow instructions, I delved into various interests within my mind and constructed an essay based on those thoughts.
While reading out loud each student’s essay, Mr. Keulabor skipped mine without even looking at it, which made me aware of his disappointment. Despite sensing this, I decided not to address the matter and anticipated that he would bring it up with me later on. I imagined him yelling at me once more because I had once again skipped his class, and I had no desire to be there when that confrontation happened.
As I watched Mr. Keulabor lead all the students out of the door after school, I reflected on how my actions earlier that day had brought me to this moment. If I hadn’t touched that girl, I wouldn’t have run away. And if I hadn’t run away, I wouldn’t be sitting here now.
Then, Mr. Keulabor sat down in front of me on a small chair like mine and asked me a question: “Where do you envision yourself in 10 years?” Uncertainly, I looked into his eyes and replied, “I don’t know.” He repeated the question with more emphasis: “Where do you see yourself in 10 years?” Then he said something that changed my path forever: “Think about it and share your thoughts tomorrow.” With those words, he let me go.
I went home feeling content with the same mindset. After having dinner with my family, I settled onto my bed and pondered what he had said. It hit me that my life lacked purpose, which sparked a transformation in my academic performance. In just one marking period, both my grades and behavior showed remarkable improvement, and this improvement has stayed consistent since then.
All thanks to Mr. Keulabor’s belief in me,I not only became his student of the year but also earned his endorsement for the Young Scholars Liberty Partnership Program.
