Learning to grow through embracing constructive feedback
My Story
​​In all the great novels the characters seem to grow in a somewhat linear fashion. You can see an even progression in their strengths or weaknesses. I think real life is a bit different and sometimes the moment of personal growth come from unexpected places and in unexpected ways.
Growing up, I was a timid child, constantly being asked by my teachers to participate more. My Friends School had a strong focus on having students develop personal accountability from a very young age. So starting in 5th grade, we, the students, would lead our own parent-teacher conferences and shape the agenda. A typical flow would include what we had been covering from a subject matter standpoint, where we felt we had done well and where we believed there was an opportunity for improvement. We would personally meet with our subject matter specialist teachers beforehand to gather specific feedback on strengths and areas for improvement. We then were responsible for documenting the feedback, internalizing it, communicating it back to the head teacher and our parents, and proposing the plan that we felt would personally work for us to drive progress. The improvement plan had to be specific and actionable. After delivering this information to our parents and head teacher, it was open for discussion. This was not a superficial shrug in response to something that was not going well. And rest assured, we returned to the topic at the next semester’s meeting. So when I say I was constantly being asked by my teachers to participate more, I would underscore that it was many years of the feedback and many years of action planning. And I genuinely did try, and I genuinely did come up with strategies to raise my hand, would note it in my notebook, etc. And I did make progress. But I also took my biggest leap forward as a result of suffering multiple concussions in my junior year of high school in the U.S. Somehow, all the years of feedback got crystalized in my brain and I somehow developed the courage to grow radically as a person across multiple fronts.
In my first attempt at junior year, I suffered two concussions. The first, in September 2021, occurred when I tripped over my dog and fell backward onto a granite countertop, cracking my head open. The brain trauma specialist prescribed three months of bed rest, confining me to my house without books, TV, or any form of mental stimulation. The pandemic, with its lockdowns and social distancing, doubled my isolation. I couldn’t walk my dog without getting lightheaded and suffering a migraine. I was forced to withdraw from the quarter at school, but I had hoped that everything would return to normal soon thereafter.
Then on January 26, 2022, in an effort to resume the activities I loved, I was taking a riding lesson and cantering around the arena. As I reached the corner, my girth slipped, causing the saddle to slide sideways underneath the horse. The horse spooked and bucked, throwing me into the fence at 20 mph. I remember the fence rails getting larger and larger, the air swirling around me, and the absolute terror that flooded through my veins. Then… nothing.
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My second concussion also occurred in my California junior year, and I was forced to take another three months off on bed rest. Withdrawing from a cumulative six months of school meant I had no choice but to repeat a grade. Concurrently, my family had been considering a move to Spain. I pushed them over the hump. I didn’t really process the fact that I was repeating junior year until I actually moved. While it was difficult to watch my US classmates apply to and start college, I am grateful for the experience of living abroad, having more time with my family and the opportunity to be more intentional about how I approach life.
As a result of the head trauma, I remember almost nothing from before the fall of 2021 unless the memory is very specifically jogged and almost narrated back to me. The summer after my concussions, on vacation with my cousins, they started talking about our grandfather. He passed away during my freshman year in high school. Everyone recounted their favorite memories with him. But when it was my turn, I had nothing to share. I couldn’t remember him. It is a strange, heartbreaking experience to feel the imprint of someone in your heart but to not remember the nuances of who they actually were. I could sense my love for my grandfather and feel the depth of my sadness over his death, but I could not remember a single moment with him.
While I still suffer from headaches, loss of memory, and other after effects, I have gratitude for my concussions. Maybe because I had to embrace the idea of a “reset” for high school and in the spirit of completeness, I decided to reset how I engage in class and in social, school and now professional environments. Despite, or maybe because of my concussions and being in a new school and country, I cannot wait to contribute in my classes. It is almost as if that aspect of my personality was knocked out of my head, and I am independent of whatever experiences “created” my shyness. In some ways, I am a better version of myself because I am not defined by the events of my past or my “old” personality. I have developed my awareness for those who are in pain or feel damaged, strengthening my compassion. I learned how to dig beyond underlying experiences and discover and shape the burgeoning aspects of my personality. It is with the benefit of that embedded feedback, my concussions, and a desire to keep moving forward that I have been able to dive in and thrive at Michigan.