A Lesson in Authority
The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the old, dusty windows of Lincoln High School, casting long shadows across the hallway. I had always prided myself on my work ethic and dedication, so it was with eager anticipation that I awaited the results of the annual science fair. For weeks, I had poured my heart and soul into my project—a solar-powered water filter designed to provide clean drinking water to communities in need. As a high school sophomore, I wanted to make a difference, and I hoped this project would be my small contribution.
As I stood outside the auditorium, I felt a mixture of pride and nervousness. The panel of judges would soon announce the winners, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that my hard work would be recognized. However, when the principal, Mr. Thompson, stepped up to the microphone, my stomach dropped. He began to read off the names of the winners, and my heart sank with each name that wasn’t mine. Finally, he announced the top prize—a project.
"This is a project," he said sternly, emphasis on the word "project." He motioned to a classmate of mine, Jake, who had created a visually striking display on the effects of pollution on local wildlife. Was it a good project? Sure. Was it better than mine? I didn’t think so.
As applause erupted around me, I felt a wave of frustration wash over me. Mr. Thompson had always been known for his rigid adherence to rules, often stifling creativity in the name of discipline. I stood there, confused and hurt, knowing deep down that my project had merit and a deeper purpose.
Fuelled by a mix of disbelief and anger, I made a decision: I wouldn’t let this injustice slide. I walked up to the stage after the ceremony, feeling as if I were about to confront a giant. I approached Mr. Thompson, who was still basking in the glow of the accolades. With my heart racing, I gathered my courage and spoke.
“Mr. Thompson,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady, “I believe my project deserved more acknowledgment. It focuses on real-world issues, and I worked really hard on it.” The words came out more assertively than I had expected, but I was met with a look of surprise and disapproval.
“While I appreciate your enthusiasm, this competition is about presentation and creativity, not just the intention behind the project,” he replied curtly, dismissing me with a wave of his hand.
I felt my heart sink deeper. His response was as cold as the metal trophy he held in his hands. I had hoped for a conversation, for an acknowledgment of my effort—not a condescension. In that moment, I realized that my disappointment was not just about winning; it was about being heard and recognized.
Days passed, and the sting of the incident lingered. I replayed the conversation in my mind, struggling with feelings of anger and helplessness. However, I found solace in my friends, who encouraged me to focus on the positives—like the passion I had developed for environmental issues and community service through my project.
Eventually, I decided that instead of letting this experience define me, I would use it as motivation. I reached out to local community organizations, using my project not just as a competition piece but as a viable solution for real issues. I organized small workshops to educate others on water purification and set up a donation drive for actual water filters to be sent overseas.
I learned that authority figures are not infallible, and their judgments may be swayed by factors beyond the merit of one’s work. More importantly, I learned that my worth was not tied to a trophy or a title, but rather the impact I could make in my community.
Though I initially reacted with frustration and a desire for validation, I eventually channeled that energy into something constructive. I emerged from this experience not only more resilient but driven to advocate for causes that matter. And looking back, I realized that Mr. Thompson’s unjust treatment became a catalyst for my growth, shaping my journey into advocacy—a path that would ultimately lead to many more opportunities to create change.