Fly fishing club is a wonderful part of my life because it reminds me to take things slowly. During the school year there aren’t enough hours in the day to do everything I want and need to do. There are meetings and deadlines and timed tests; the clock is my master. Fly fishing enables me to forget about time. Though we only take a few trips per year, being part of the Seattle Youth Fly Fishers allows me to go on imaginary fishing outings. In the fall, we practice casting once a week on a grass field in the center of a bustling city of half a million. I am without a fly, far from a river or fish, but the rhythm of the cast takes me miles away to a forested fishing hole in the vast Northwest wilderness. For a moment, the street sounds and city lights vanish and I am floating down a river with my line in the water. The only thing on my mind is watching the fish rise to my fly. The best part is that I have all the time in the world.

I'm not dexterous enough to be a great artist, but I've always cherished drawing. My political cartoons are measured and meticulous, hard fought to make every detail perfect. But when I let go, allowing each pen stroke to sculpt the next, I attain something no planned caricature can: inspiration rather than depiction. Unlike my political cartoons, these drawings aren't just an expression of what's in my head. They create new stories, and new thoughts. Often when I haven't drawn for a while I almost have to teach myself to draw again, reorienting my hands to the task. But I've always known the reward is worth it.

As I lay there, my chest heaving and sweat flooding from every pore, I knew only one thing. I had knocked down the wall. For a year I had been trying to break a time of 7:20 over 2000 meters, rowing on an ergometer, or rowing machine. And finally I had done it. 7:19.3. It took several long minutes for me to regain my breath. A sense of euphoria set in as I stumbled dizzily towards the boathouse. A large, foolish grin spread across my face, though my temples were throbbing and the ground spun beneath me. This is what crew has given me. Rowing three hours daily since freshman year has resulted in sore muscles, raw, blistering hands, and worry about races and ergometer tests. But crew has also brought the satisfaction of suffering through pain and hardship, and the bonds formed with teammates after coming through these experiences together.

Compared to the entire American population, I am an above average swimmer. In the world of high school competitive swimming, I am a floaty. But I wouldn't have it any other way. From the beginning of high school swimming, I quickly realized that I would not be the greatest asset to the team's speed, but that I could be a vital part of its chlorinated spirit. And for the past four years,I have been the teammate who is at every practice, brings extra towels to meets, and has all the good snacks. And when big meets, like districts and state, roll around, I am always there, not to swim, but to cheer and support. By insisting on being at every practice, every meet, I have improved as an athlete, acquired permanent goggle marks and become captain. And while I like to see my times improve, I take the most joy out of seeing others do their best. And it helps to know that the goldfish I brought them may have made the difference.

It’s three o’clock, Tuesday afternoon. Fourth and fifth-graders push to get through the door of room 105 at Leschi Elementary. Amongst the crowd I see Jelani, my student. He opens his trumpet case upside down, and I catch his horn before it hits the ground. Music is the driving force of my life, so when Seattle Music Partners came to my school asking for volunteers to tutor underserved kids, I knew it was for me. For two hours each Tuesday last year, Jelani and I practiced together. His improvement was vast. In his first recital, we improvised a duet on our mouthpieces. A few months later, we performed “When The Saints Go Marching In.” I once played with Paquito D’Rivera, who told me that he learns more from his students than they learn from him. At the time I laughed in disbelief, but I’ve found meaning to his words.

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