Practical. Perfect. Princeton.

The first two were traits that she needed to have. 

The third was a destination. A destination that if she failed to arrive at would make her whole journey meaningless.

It was because of the place that Olive’s toys had been taken away from her early.

Nerf or nothing?

Try Princeton or nothing.

Where her parents had failed, Olive had to succeed. Her parents would make sure of it. She would graduate from Princeton and become a doctor. Not a baker, not a writer, and certainly not an artist.

The toy guns, a gift from her grandparents for her to enjoy with her friends, got in the way of that, according to her parents at least. It’s replacement was a math workbook.

Her dolls were replaced by vocabulary words.

Her DS was replaced with a calculator.

Her bouncy balls were replaced by dense biology textbooks.

The chemistry set and puzzles could stay, but the dog had to go. A dog required too much care and attention. Olive would be better without the distraction. (But oh did she miss Cookie).

Her parents were tempted to take away the crayons as well, but too many of Olive’s classes required them, so they were allowed to stay.

Olive said goodbye to spending time with her friends. Going to the playground, to sleepovers,  and to the movies would distract her from time she could spend studying.

Sports were out of the question during elementary and middle school. Olive watched her classmates run about, kicking, throwing, and hitting balls under the sun and under the gym lights, running, jumping, swimming, wrestling on teams and alone but she wasn’t allowed to join them. Her time would be better spent sitting down with a book. Not fiction mind you. She wasn’t allowed that, fantasy especially. They weren’t practical. The only exception was when it was assigned for class. She caught glimpses of her classmates as they played after school, hoping, wishing, longing to skip her tutoring sessions and join them. 

It wasn’t until she was in high school that her parents allowed her to participate in sports. The reason why? The Ivy Leagues wanted a “well-rounded person”. At least, that’s what they wanted from those who couldn’t pay their way in. If all Olive had to her were her good grades, she wouldn’t be allowed in. So Olive’s parents wanted her to have a hobby that would look good on a college application. It was a bit late in her parents opinion, but four years to get good at something would have to be enough.

It was Olive that chose to join the school’s tennis club. It started early enough to ward off her parents’ impatience. She was happy with it at first. The girls and guys on the tennis team were nice. They even hung out together after tennis practice. Her parents didn’t know about this. She didn’t tell them. As far as they knew, her practices were just very long. It was fun.

…Until her mother sat in on one of her matches. Not a single bad swing or slow step was missed under her stern eye. When the match was over and everyone left, Olive wasn’t allowed to leave and she wasn’t allowed to rest. She sprinted from one end of the court to the other again and again and again. She swung her racket again and again and again. Her mother wanted her swing to be perfect. Her mother wanted her movements to be perfect.

Then her mother started coming to her practices. Olive wished she didn’t. Her mother didn’t yell at her, not in front of her coach and peers, but she could feel the pressure. It was after three observed practices that her mother questioned why it took her so long to come home; practice only lasted two hours. They were in the car, Olive in the backseat. Her mother watched her in the rearview mirror. Olive sat in silence, afraid to answer.

“I don’t appreciate you not attending to your studies.”

Her mother took her home as soon as her practices were over. Her hangouts with her teammates came to an end and so did the enjoyment she gained from the sport.

The high school years went by fast. Olive didn’t remember much of it, just blurs of studying and rigorous practice interspersed with testing and tournaments. She was a good student, a perfect student, valedictorian. Her teachers complimented her parents. Her future was assured. As a senior, she sent out her college applications, making sure to include her “passion” for tennis. Her early decision was Princeton.

The college responded in January. Her parents stood over her shoulder as she opened Princeton’s letter. She held her breath and opened it.

Accepted.

She was accepted. Her parents cheered. Their dreams would come true. Olive sighed in relief. She didn’t know what would have happened if she didn’t get in.

She rode out the rest of her senior year and graduated top of her class. She entered Princeton in the fall. She didn’t dorm. Her family home was nearby and her parents wanted to make sure she studied properly.

Thus her time in Princeton was a continuation of her time in elementary, middle, and high school. Her parents wanted her to go to med school. To get into med school, her grades needed to be perfect. Extracurriculars were no longer necessary, so her parents forbade it.

She studied, studied, and studied. She got a 4.0 in her fall semester, but her spring semester…

3.4

3.4

3.4

Olive crumpled the edges of her transcript as her hands began to tremble. She stood in front of her mailbox with the letter in her hand. She staggered on her feet as her heart raced. Her breathing came out in short breaths as tears began to bubble in her eyes.

“Nonononononononono! NO!

This was written as part of an exercise in my Reading as a Writer class. The first part of the exercise was to interview one of our classmates and use it as inspiration for a writing piece. While the classmate I interviewed didn’t have an upbringing nearly as traumatic as this story, there are aspects of it that I took from her life.

However, writing this really made me think. I went to a top-ranking, expensive school, so there were a lot of my classmates that were under high levels of pressure to succeed. It was to the point that every semester (until covid hit, that is) there would be a performance called the Reality Show that would warn against putting so much pressure on yourself and only focussing on your grades.