Navigating one’s bicultural identity while enduring the trials and tribulations of adolescence is no easy task. At times, you feel the pressure of living up to the standards of your parents. At others, it can seem like you’ll never truly fit in at school with your box braids and dark complexion.
In hindsight, my high school years have been a journey of overcoming and becoming. Through my relationships, especially with Mrs. Christine Palladino, I have blossomed into a resilient African-American young woman who embraces all that she is. But, every journey has humble beginnings.
In my freshman year, I had no clue who I was. However, I had a firm understanding of my roles: obedient daughter, intelligent Black girl in a predominantly white space, and basketball player. My heart was set on solidifying the last role with a spot on Mrs. Palladino’s varsity squad. The atmosphere of greatness she fostered at Camden Catholic with her rich winning tradition inspired awe within me, and it was my dream to represent her on the court.
I was brought back down to earth from my lofty fantasy of starting on the varsity team as a freshman when I nearly threw up at the first varsity practice.
I was so flustered when Mrs. Pal had to interrupt the team’s sprints to check on me as I lay on the floor. As she guided me off the court, I made an internal promise: I would never give up during sprints again. Though I was disappointed to have only made the junior varsity team, I worked tirelessly to sharpen my skills and earn a place on the varsity team.
When playoffs rolled around, Mrs. Pal called me into her office and told me that I would be suiting up for our big game against Gloucester Catholic. “You’ve earned this.” she said. Although I didn’t play a single minute in that game, Mrs. Palladino’s acknowledgement of my efforts felt monumental. It gave every insufferable practice great meaning and encouraged me to work harder the following season, and every season thereafter.
In addition to interacting with Mrs. Pal in the gym, I was privileged enough to engage with her in the classroom. In my sophomore year, her U.S. History course tested my mettle. At the beginning of every class, I took my seat directly in front of her and she would incessantly ask me challenging questions. Further, her assessments were filled with countless fill-in-the-blank questions and complex essay prompts that required long-winded responses.
Still, her class was my favorite because through it, I developed an appreciation for something I hold in high esteem: civil discourse. Alongside the curriculum, Mrs. Pal integrated informal debates in which the class would discuss contentious historical topics. I learned to take in others’ opinions, appreciate them, and respectfully argue my point.
When Mrs. Pal took notice of my predilection for public speaking, she encouraged me to join T.H.E. Council, a club centered around cultural appreciation and diversity education. While on the auditorium stage sharing my story about being a child of immigrants, I realized that my background made me unique. The audience took pleasure in hearing what I had to say as evidenced by their laughing at my jokes and enthusiastic clapping when I was finished. I began to like myself as an individual and this new attitude translated to the court. I finally weaseled my way into a varsity game and contributed to the team.
All was going well, the perfect indicator that something would soon go wrong.
Junior year is a trying time for anyone, but for me, it was especially grueling. My relationship with my parents was strained, and I wasn’t performing as well academically or athletically. I was too proud to ask for help, thinking that I could manage everything on my own. At my lowest point, Mrs. Pal reminded me of my humanity. I was more than grades or stats, I was a competent young woman with my own story. Also, I was worthy of being loved for who I was; every component of my identity. With that, my grades began to pick up and I even ascertained a starting position on the varsity team.
As a senior, I can comfortably say that Mrs. Palladino has given me the greatest gift one can give an individual: self-worth. Through Mrs. Pal I’ve actualized my potential and come into my own. Also, I’ve come to appreciate who I am. Naturally, I’ve grown closer to God because an appreciation of oneself is an appreciation of his work. Words cannot express my gratitude to Mrs. Pal for all she has done for me, and I hope to continue to gain wisdom from her and make her proud.
Suzy Ndandji is a senior at Camden Catholic High School, Cherry Hill.
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