by Hannah Con

Created on: August 14, 2008

On the desk in my bedroom I have medals for every conceivable accomplishment. There are ones for horseback riding, ones for a spelling bees, and even ones for the best team player (insert exclamation point here). For every milestone in my young life, I have a $5 plastic trophy to remember it with. And thank God for that. If I didn't have a little miniature version of me pretending to hit a softball to commemorate our teams losing season- what would the world have come to? All those hard practices and the lack of suitable snacks afterward would make any kid need a little recognition. I'm sure you know the feeling. Your team has just lost, another, game and then the snack mom pulls up with water bottles instead of Gatorade. Or, heaven forbid, the worst is when they're out of the blue kind! It's those kinds of moments when you really have to buckle down and remind yourself that life is just not fair sometimes. Snacks, or at least the good kind, are not what we signed up for. After all, we're playing for the love of the game, right?

Move a little the left, yes there, in front of my closet and you can see my graduation gown hanging up. Another milestone of my life. That green robe that symbolizes so much. I can remember the night I got it I had just received a Job Well Done! on one of my World History papers. If my underpaid, overworked, in it for the rewards teacher thought that I really had something in me- who was I to argue? But now,as a product of the overachieving public school system, I must say that feedback like that has really made the difference in my education. If one woman can take the time to note my work while still having to grade 100 other papers a night then surely I, with my vast array of knowledge from Wikipedia, must have written a good paper. As I reflect on my years in high school I just hope that I, as a student, was able to give as much back to my teachers as they gave to me.

Now, after hearing the contents of my resume (they say the job market these days is tough, but I'm hopeful) you can understand my enthusiasm for graduation. It was the high point of my existence. I was finally getting to walk across that stage and receive a piece of paper that validated my life up to that moment in time. And alas, the day came and went, and everything went on much the same as it had before. Much to my surprise of course.

But the real kicker was the most peculiar graduation card I received from my Grandma in Florida. It read: Dear Hannah, Congratulations on getting through the easiest part of your life. Love, Grandma.

Now I ask you, is that anyway to reward accomplishment?

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