Age 16 exceeded my expectations. It was a year of unprecedented productivity, self-realization, and learning. It was a year of growth, it was year of progress. It was a year of triumph, it was a year of success. It was a year for friends, it was a year for fun. It was unforgettable. What I write here will serve as a memento, a mummification, of my 17th year.
I was still in 10th grade when I turned 16 last February. My immediate realization was that I would soon be getting my driver’s license and that I would soon be entering my junior year in high school, supposedly the most stressful. I thought about what a stereotypical sixteen-year-old was: a careless teen, a reckless driver, disobedient, unappreciative, ignorant, lazy, defiant, and hormone-driven. I strove to be something more likable.
Blossoms on the Hill
During spring break, which followed shortly after my birthday, I was chosen to represent Minnesota in a youth leadership council held in Washington D.C. It was a truly enriching and worthwhile experience. While working with many of the most intelligent fellow students in America, devoting much of our time to drafting bills, meeting with legislators on Capitol Hill, and even carrying out mock Supreme Court cases, we also enjoyed touring the sights of D.C. Quite fortunately, the annual National Cherry Blossom Festival was also held during the time that I was there; it was practically snowing pink.
As March of 2010 became April, the warm weather served as a deceivingly friendly reminder that AP tests were approaching. I had two coming up that year: biology and European history. Having taken the Art History test the year before, I had a general idea of what to expect. Nonetheless, the review commenced in full force. As weeks became days before the AP tests, it became increasingly apparent that my confidence level was directly proportional to the number of coffee thermoses I emptied.
blue blue red red
With AP tests out of the way that May, the rest of sophomore year was a breeze. I only thing that stood between me and summer was the SAT II Subject Test in biology. I wasn’t particularly worried; having reviewed all of my biology in the month or two before May, I had killed two birds with one stone, as studying for the AP exam was essentially studying for the SAT II. I ended that school year with the annual ethnic dinner at Mrs. Swiggum’s home, the AP Biology teacher herself. I brought biryani. My buddy-since-middle-school Jeff and I coincidentally brought the same brand of Tupperware with matching shirts. Coincidences like that deserve photos.
The end of the school year also meant the end of drivers-ed and a permit in my pocket.
Summer provided little letup from the busy-ness of the school year. Each day during the first few weeks of summer, I spent afternoons at the pool, serving as a volunteer Water Safety Aide and teaching kids how to swim safely. The kids I dealt with were an…entertaining bunch. Each day I taught swim lessons was a joy.
Simultaneously, I helped teach a nature drawing course, alongside a professional artist, for a group of local Plymouth kids. We would spend the noon hours milling about Millenium Garden, making sun prints, drawing close-ups of the foliage, and creating leaf and bark rubbings. By the end of the course, I had become just as much of a student as I was an artist. It was great to look through the artistic mind of a child for a change.
Summer also meant continuing at Kumon, the math and reading learning center. Working there part-time, I would help students of all grade levels with math or reading, also of all levels. Kumon’s math program includes everything from basic counting to basic calculus. It’s reading program starts with letters and ends with analysis of Shakespeare. As someone who has completed the entirety of Kumon’s reading program and much of the math program, I found it rewarding to help those who were walking in my footsteps. And look up to the few older students in whose footsteps I myself was walking. I had to defer their questions to the main instructor.
Whatever summer there was left was spent at either the University of Minnesota, or Macalaster College. For a week or so, I attended an engineering program at the U. Although it opened my eyes to a wide variety of engineering fields, it wasn’t as enriching as I thought it’d be. Nonetheless, I learned a lot and made friends–there’s nothing to regret about that. I also had the opportunity to take a creative writing course at Macalaster College, through their Minnesota Institute for Talented Youth (MITY) program. I was surprised and delighted to meet one of my fellow classmates there, Cosette, who was taking an art course. My time at MITY was memorable. Each day was spent hanging out with fellow writers, under the instruction of a teacher that went by the alias, Word Man. We gave each other feedback, produced prose and poetry of all varieties, and even got to tour a local publishing company.
Soon afterward, I began interviewing professors at the University of Minnesota’s Stem Cell Institute and biomedical engineering department, seeking a suitable mentor. Eventually, I found my place in the Firpo lab. Preliminary training and research began shortly thereafter.
The end of July and into early August marked the highlight of my summer: a tour of Europe’s three most significant and history-rich cities. Traveling with twenty-one fellow AP European History survivors, three teacher chaperones (two of which taught the class), and a tour guide who accompanied us throughout the entire trip, I can sincerely say that the experience was unforgettable. Flying from Minneapolis to Chicago, followed by a quick skip across the pond, we first landed in Frankfurt, Germany for a transfer flight to Berlin. Upon my first steps off the Lufthansa 747, it dawned on me that I was actually in Europe: the subject of over 500 years of a convoluted, revolution-driven, war-ridden, people-powered history. My thoughts at that time were closest to the following: “Ah, Europe. We meet at last. I’ve heard so much about you…”
From Berlin, we took a train to Paris, and reached our final destination, London, by Chunnel. We spent a total of ten days there and somehow fit in a lifetime of memories.
Big Ben and the group
Immediately after my return from Europe, our family spent the weekend camping. My dad had been in Bangladesh, visiting family, while I was in Europe and thus, camping was somewhat of a family reunion for the four of us. After relaxing around the campfire, playing innumerable badminton matches, and scoffing at people in their purpose-defeating deluxe campers, it was time to face reality: the school year was knocking.
By the time junior year began, I recognized that going to the U of M nearly everyday for my research project would be a hassle without a drivers license. As my school schedule evolved, carpooling became an unreliable means of transport. I began driving, accompanied by my dad, whenever and wherever I could. And by late December, I had my license. I was finally, truly 16 years old.
Junior year did not, and has not, failed to meet expectations. A little more than a semester in, and I’m now 17 years old.
Time flies.
