Month: September 2022

It’s over. It’s all over. 

My Wii was broken. Years, over a decade, of hard work, are gone. Like a pappus of a dandelion sailing through the wind, the exact issue was nearly impossible to locate. Wii Support was of no help, internet Q&A forums offered nothing more than occasional motivation, and my family was as clueless as I was to fix this issue. Although I was deeply hurt by losing all the data of the other dozens of games I owned, the most painful truth I had to come to terms with was the loss of my Mario Kart Wii progress. 

I had to start over.

A lifelong dream of mine, passed along to me by my elder sister, was unlocking a very special character, Rosalina. We worked on it periodically, never actually believing it was achievable, and, consequently, we never unlocked her. Our main obstacle was Mirror Mode. 

Mirror Mode is horrendous. Everything is flipped horizontally, so each frame of each racing track is a mirror image of its normal state of being. Everything I have learned from my years of playing Mario Kart, I had to throw out the window. I could no longer rely on muscle memory, a core strength of mine when racing, but, instead, would have to rely on my reflexes and critical thinking abilities. 

Eventually, my dad got a new Wii for us. I realized even though it would be difficult, I needed to start over. The summer before my Sophomore year, or the summer I was captive to my home, I began to embark on this journey of unlocking Rosalina herself. As I started up the new console, I realized how long this trek would take. Not only would I have to combat Mirror Mode, but I would also have to beat everything that came before it. For 50cc, 100cc, 150cc, and Mirror Mode, I would have to play each of the eight cups, each consisting of four races in a row, and I would have to get first place in all of them. It took my sister and me a couple of weeks of casual racing to get stars on all 50cc, 100cc, and 150cc cups, meaning it only took us a couple of weeks to regain almost all of our progress. I was confident about the journey ahead but knew to tread cautiously. 

The following week was brutal, causing us to realize we were playing too casually and needed to step up our game. We decided to play from 10 pm-6 am every night. We were doing great the first few days until insanity consumed us. All I could think about was Mario Kart, all I could dream about was Mirror Mode, and all I could wish for was Rosalina. I resorted to various manifestation methods, one of which required pouring one cup of water into another cup labeled with our end goal. I would rage quit whenever I couldn’t handle another second place. Although our mental states weren’t intact, our skills were. With enough practice, we got stars on the first six cups more easily than before. However, our flow was interrupted by the last two cups, Lightning and Special. 

These cups will forever haunt me. Already hard enough on their own, Mirror Mode made them so much worse. At this point, we did not know if we could make it through. Our eight-hour shifts didn’t seem to be enough, days of racing resulted in little to no visible progress. The more I would look ahead, the more hopeless I would feel. It was not until I looked back at our progress that I felt a bit more optimistic. We continued racing, engaging in our most offensive tactics against our heartless AI-controlled opponents. After days of hard work, we finally completed the Lightning cup, and, within the next two days, we had gotten our last star on the Special cup. 

We unlocked Rosalina.

Although many would argue the number of sleepless nights put into unlocking a Mario Kart character we played as twice does not seem to be worth it, I learned lessons that will stick with me for many years to come. Mario Kart Wii was never about winning races, unlocking fictional characters, or engaging in violent activities against your opponents; it was always about finding out who “Wii” really are inside.

Many of my early memories of reading have been filled with insecurity. I remember being in Kindergarten, where I watched the kids in my class volunteer to read aloud. They spoke with immense confidence, not caring about the words they mispronounced. I was always too scared to try. I remember my first-grade teacher conducting individual reading assessments. I remember being afraid to mispronounce or skip over any word, so I read, not focusing on the meaning, but focusing on stating the words with accuracy. The teacher said my reading level was lower than others, and I was told to stop reading certain books because they were too challenging for me, even though I understood every word of them. My friends would constantly tell me that I’m bad at reading, bragging about how quickly they could read. I ended up losing motivation to read because I truly believed I wasn’t good at it, but, eventually, my teachers began to support me much more than before. I didn’t want to be compared to the people around me, so I read books away from my peers, in the safety of my own home. Reading in isolation gave me the ability to grow on my own, without the judgment of others.

When I was younger, I loved to read fantasy books. I loved the worlds authors were able to create just with their words, and I was always amazed by how attached I got to the characters who didn’t exist beyond the minds of the readers and the soft paper of their books. Eventually, I became more interested in science fiction, watching as the dystopian worlds combatted issues I never could have imagined. For the past few years, I have been especially interested in realistic fiction. I often find myself relating to multiple characters in each realistic fiction book I read, readily understanding the intentions behind each action they make. I feel as though the authors dedicate a great amount of effort to ensuring the story is realistic enough while writing engaging plotlines. Two books that heavily molded my recent preference and understanding of literature are Forgive Me, Leonard Peacock by Matthew Quick and The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri. Forgive Me, Leonard Peacock was a lot different from the books I was reading at the time. The story mostly took place within one day, beginning with the narrator being fully ready to take his own life. The book does an amazing job of handling sensitive issues, while fully developing the depth of the narrator. I read The Namesake for AP Lit this year, not fully knowing what to expect. Throughout reading the novel, I found myself rereading sentences to make sure I understood the full meaning, flipping back and forth through pages, and making many connections between my own life and Gogol’s. Every word felt extremely intentional, every sentence connected to another one pages away, and every page seamlessly pushed the story forward. This book felt personal to my experience and the experiences of many around me, something I usually don’t feel about books. These books showed me that enjoyment while reading is not any more important than pain.

I remember being in my Junior year English class when my teacher asked for volunteers to read a few sentences of a passage. Impulsively, I raised my hand. After the teacher told me I would be fifth to read, the panic set in. I was extremely close to backing out after convincing myself that I don’t know how to speak, but then my turn came. I read the three sentences, as one would normally do, then the person after me started reading their lines once I was done. No one seemed to sense my fear in those long five minutes, causing me to realize I did it, and it wasn’t bad. I felt proud for the rest of the day.

After years of insecurity, I finally have enough confidence to participate in discussions, write out of interest, and truly enjoy the books I read. No matter how many words I mispronounce, and no matter how long it takes me to read, I now know I am good enough.