I have had an experience over the past few weeks that I feel the need to document. Some of this need may be caused by my pride, but mostly this is because the experience is truly amazing and unexpected. In the life of a typical high school teenager, the highest priority is getting into college. The pressure of maintaining a good GPA, achieving high SAT scores, or enrolling in as many AP classes as possible often chains students to desks with textbooks in their faces. This was my situation for most of freshman year and sophomore year.

But robotics season started mid-January, and this event turned my entire monotonous routine upside down. The very first day of season, FRC (FIRST Robotics Competition) released the game plan which thousands of robotics teams across the globe were expected to follow. I admit that my parents were pressuring me at first to attain a future leadership position. I showed up at our school’s robotics room everyday the club met. This meant appearing every day of the week except Sunday. On the side, badminton season started and the science team competition was approaching. Suddenly my life was so busy I never had time for myself. No more hanging out with friends, playing games, surfing the web, or texting. And quickly a radical change in my mindset occurred during the first two weeks of robotics season. My priorities started rearranging themselves without my noticing.  Subconsciously my focus shifted and zeroed in.

For background information, the division I participated in within my school’s robotics team was CAD (Computer Aided Design). I will not disclose the name of my “captain”, so I will refer to him as Captain. CAD involves modeling what we build in 3D, so that we can anticipate problems before extending too far into the prototype phase. It is also imperative in visualization of our final robot, and the drawings we print show how to build our robot.

During the first week, prototyping was very incomplete and slow, so Captain didn’t have any jobs for me. That was fine. I participated in our mechanical division for a while, helping construct game elements that would appear in our competitions. During the second week, Captain called me back, saying he needed me to model a prototype that was being refined. This was a difficult task, but I took up the challenge without hesitation.
And then suddenly grades didn’t matter anymore. Homework was not very important. Neither was sleep; I could lose some if needed. I felt no need to play games, chat with friends, or have any free-time at all. Throughout week three I stayed at the school until eight in the evening. A month ago I wouldn’t have dreamed of such madness. But I was useful. People needed my help in building something great. The design had to be finished. Our deadline was Saturday. It felt good to stop working towards self-achievement and contribute to a community project. I didn’t work tirelessly. I was tired. But I worked hard anyways. Captain gave me more and more jobs. The deadline at the end of week three was approaching. And we didn’t make it.

Seeing how much the rest of robotics depended on CAD, Captain and I had different reactions. Captain suffered under the stress. I thrived. Suddenly, I was named CAD captain. But that did not matter to me, because the only thing that mattered was finishing the design of our final robot. Voices in my head told me: work harder, work faster, you aren’t done yet, don’t let them down. At the end of week four, we were done. I was both elated and relieved. That night, my body compensated for all the sleep and energy lost.

This is getting rather long, so I will wrap up the story. What truly amazed me about this was suddenly, what had been important for one and a half years suddenly was not so important. My grades temporarily plunged into a metaphorical toilet, which was previously unthinkable to me. I believe everyone should seek for these experiences, in which you work with other people, instead of for yourself. It feels oddly satisfying, and you may discover what truly motivates you.