Keeping The Cheers Going
Understanding The Quiet Strength of Self-Acknowledgment
A couple of weeks ago, I received the sad news that the founder of my high school marching band had passed away. Despite not having much direct interaction with her, her unique emphasis on discipline with empathy is reflected through her organizations, which shaped nearly three generations of women over more than sixty years. While it’s no surprise that I’ve forgotten most of the technical aspects—like the majority of brass fingerings or how to exhale properly without producing that annoying buzzing sound—one particular memory always evokes strong emotions in me. Every time we prepared for a championship, my coach would remind us, "Once you finish your set, don’t march out directly. Take a moment to look at all your spectators, hear their cheers, and absorb those feelings." I followed his advice during the three competitions I participated in, but I was yet to fully grasp its true essence.
To give you a clearer picture, we competed biannually in championships, training for over 16 hours a week for about 1.5 years to deliver a 12-minute musical performance. The training was quite rigorous, since it involved marching under the sunlight and occasional lap runs or push ups when we made mistakes. And naturally, we aimed for trophies to uphold the legacy of our predecessors.
Honestly, I don’t remember which trophies we won; I only know we placed in the top three in most categories, which was quite satisfying. My coach was right: the sound of the crowd cheering after I finished performing (before even knowing the results), the memory of panting heavily with sweat pouring down after playing an instrument and marching, and catching glimpses of my friends, family, seniors, and teachers in the audience are what stand out most clearly. It turns out that the fulfillment of achieving a goal is what matters most to me.
As I transitioned to a typical professional career, I left behind those cheers and spotlights. The frustrating feeling of being stuck in mediocrity creeps in from time to time. I often felt that my work was merely a means to receive my paycheck at the end of the month. While periodic performance reviews serve as good checkpoints, I often felt indifferent and struggled to express my feelings to my reporting manager.
Fortunately, I found some relief when I crossed the finish line of my first half marathon in 2021. Completing my first running event after three years of solo runs reminded me that at least one achievement deserved a cheer. My tendency to overthink finally gave way to a moment of reflection, allowing me to embrace not just the anxiety I felt over my efforts that lacked ‘significant results,’ but also to be grateful for the courage to initiate those efforts as well as the skills and personal qualities that I picked up throughout the process.
The crowds supporting me now don’t chant school slogans; instead, they send me cute stickers in the office chat or share random photos of me working on my first writing piece as milestone reminders.
The intensity of emotion tied to significant achievements and large crowds makes it easier to recognize our successes. However, the true power lies in reliving those feelings to acknowledge and celebrate myself during moments when I can’t see the end of the tunnel. Not only does this involve patting myself on the back, but it also heightens my awareness of those who lend a hand or offer support along the way. One thing I might have overlooked is giving proper appreciation to those individuals, and I’m still figuring out how to do that.
You might wonder why this acknowledgment is necessary. I once underestimated its importance. Following the Asian stereotype, I believed that as long as I recognized my areas for improvement, I could continue to better myself. However, I was unaware of how much my self-confidence had diminished over time, leading to the frustration of mediocrity I mentioned earlier. Job interviews were a blessing in disguise that highlighted this issue. I struggled to present my qualities, and it seemed the interviewers sensed my uncertainty, making it harder for them to recognize my strengths.
For the first time, I can confidently say that feedback from unsuccessful interviews indirectly revealed some of my potential qualities. In many cases, it wasn’t that I lacked the qualities they were seeking; rather, I failed to demonstrate that I possessed them, overshadowed by my tendency to underestimate myself.
Entering this new year, I want to take a step back to embrace what I have already accomplished to remind myself that I also have ‘something’ in me worth my confidence. Not to become narcissistic, but to remind myself to fight for any chance to unleash my potential especially when everyone seems to be ahead of me. Yes, the cheers will still go on - in my head.
Jong your writing is 🤌 i always look forward to the next ones!
Proud of you, Jong! You've crossed so many cool finish lines :")