Prompt: Reflect on a time when you questioned or challenged a belief or idea. What prompted your thinking? What was the outcome?
By: Sophie St.Jacques
Princesses or presidents? Presidents or princesses? A heavy decision weighed on my 6-year-old mind as I faced that question in the middle of a Reagan International Airport gift shop. After a long week in our nation’s capital, my parents offered to buy me a souvenir before we headed home. I gleefully explained that I wanted a pencil, so I could have a fun, new, writing utensil for my short stories, petitions on bedtime reform, and math homework. My father lovingly reached for a pink, sparkly pencil covered with princesses. But my eyes reflexively seemed to fixate on a blue and gold pen featuring a bunch of men in suits on it. The presidents.
That title alone sounded so awe-inspiring and powerful to me. I knew of different presidents and what they did. Washington, Lincoln, and Kennedy were some of my favorites. At 3 ½ years old, I picked Arlington National Cemetery as my DC tourist attraction even after my parents made sure I understood that real, live pandas were at the Smithsonian National Zoo. But I wanted to see the eternal flame that burned in remembrance of JFK. I visited the White House, and I had my toy presidential motorcade. Who needed Barbie’s pink Corvette when you could have a miniature stretch limo designed to keep the leader of the free world safe? I put a Barack Obama sticker on the foot of my Ikea trundle bed, so it would have the feel of a presidential podium as I delivered daily 7 AM executive orders to my stuffed animals and sleep-deprived parents. But this pencil was different. It showed the faces of the presidents that I knew by name. It showed these notable political figures, and I realized that none of them looked like me.
With gray hair and pale skin, most of the early presidents presented a stark contrast to my coarse black hair and tan skin. More recent presidents had darker hair, but even with my “best friend,” Barack, on there, none of them looked like me. “Why is that,” I pondered. When can I be on that pencil? My parents had the unfortunate task of explaining the US Constitution to a younger me and many others who enjoyed declaring that I was going to be president one day. I was born in and adopted from China. I am a naturalized citizen. The US Constitution requires presidential candidates to be natural-born citizens. I could not be the president. And though I sat in Terminal C feeling defeated, I spent what seemed like the next 4 hours trying to find a solution.
Finally, I realized that if I can’t be President of the United States, I can try to turn the world upside down…in a good way by pursuing other ventures. My parents told me that the Constitution may point me in the direction of the House, the Senate, or perhaps the Secretary of State’s office. They also told the younger me that maybe I would make it possible for someone like me to be the next president someday. Fast forward 11 years. I’m lining up my pens, highlighters, and sticky notes as I’m preparing for my first national conference representing my home state of Washington. I realized that my dream to be president doesn’t seem as far-fetched as it was originally. Through Mock Trial and Model UN, I’ve learned how systems work and where there are opportunities for change. I’ve been raised to look for those opportunities and not take them for granted. I’ve grown to believe that I can make a difference when I use knowledge, skills, and talent to achieve a goal. It won’t always be easy. It won’t always feel fair. But I know there is a place for people like me, even if I don’t see them on pens and pencils yet.
Into the Jungle 