Personal Narrative: Prattville School

Stumble. Survive. Create a new generation. The cycle of striving for perfection and purpose reveals itself to those who contribute to the heirs of the human condition, children, and I was one of them, quivering with a hand on my shoulder advising me on when to draw and how to breathe. As I cautiously signed my name to the organization which, unbeknownst to my seventh-grade self, would become my young legacy, my self-definition, I didn 't think about the many friends—rather, and pardon my cliché, family—that I would make. When tryouts for the school 's first year of having an archery team arrived, I, nervous and irresolute as ever, took from my coach for the first time the bow that would be my counselor and companion for years thereafter.

For the next six years, I would go on to be the only person to be a part of the Prattville school system 's archery program every single year since its inception. As friends left to college and new lives, I remained, making new friends and developing faster than I ever had before, my morale buoyed by a hardened love for archery and its potential to bring together the most unlikely of companions from all walks of life, my conscience learning to evaluate not only the intricacies of my aim, my posture, and my breath, but also my mind, the often raucous command post of my youth. Over the years, my team has competed in five national archery tournaments,

Today, in my senior year of high school, my sixth, final year of archery looms on the horizon. I have been elected team captain, a proud opportunity to contribute to the sport and team that I love. Looking back, archery has been the clearest representation of my journey to adulthood: Once I was the kid, scared and alone, having that bow placed in my hands; now, I have the honor of placing in the hands of young middle schoolers and high schoolers their bows and arrows, and, though they may yet be unaware of it, I give them their pride, their self-realization, and their