(Written by a Chinese teenager who has been attending high school in America for one year)

          Though I know it’s ironic, I’ve learned that the best way to gain confidence is to keep trying to accomplish something that seems to bring nothing but failure.

          I grew up in China, and in the seventh grade had a friend who was incredibly good at dancing.  Her name was Jia.  She took ballet and gymnastics after school, as she wanted to join the school’s dance team and be a cheerleader.  Though I wasn’t good at moving like that, she was my best friend and if she was going to do those things I felt that I should try to do them, too.

          When she became a cheerleader, however, I just sat on the bench and watched, as I didn’t have the nerve to try.  I thought my being there would cheer her up.

          When she tried out for the dance team, she was accepted.  I tried, too, but was cut.  I felt that I was headed for a similar fate with ballet, but as she was my best friend, I signed up anyway. 

          Jill was a natural at all kinds of body movements and had studied ballet before, but I had no idea of what was involved.  I couldn’t even stand right in the ballet slippers.  The movements seemed easy when the teacher demonstrated them, but when it was my turn and she asked me to do a split, I couldn’t begin to do it.  My muscles wouldn’t relax enough and the position I took was really weird.

          As the lessons continued, I embarrassed myself over and over by doing the movements wrong.  I was clumsy, and when the others laughed at me, I became clumsier.  I thought perhaps it was time to give up, but the thought didn’t appeal to me, as that would create an even greater gulf between Jia and me.  She was already spending more time with a girl who excelled in dance.  I was beginning to be left behind.   

          Determined to stick it out and save our friendship, I asked the teacher for private instruction so I could learn how to do the moves correctly.  She was very accommodating and worked with me after practice to review the new moves she’d taught that day.  I also practiced them over and over again at home every night.  At times, I had little hope of improving, but I persevered. 

          Then the unexpected happened one day.  I found that I could do a split really well with no pain in my legs.  I could suddenly do cartwheels, handsprings, and many other movements I hadn’t been able to do before.  When the coach asked us to spin around on our toes, I could do it without getting dizzy.  Every movement was much easier than before and I felt great.

          I still don’t know what caused the sudden change, but it led to my becoming a full-fledged member of our troupe, and we won five championships.  The ballet teacher was very proud of all of us, and our success helped me forget those long months when I couldn’t even do a split.

Instead of giving up, I had kept trying.  The success I’d experienced gave me badly needed confidence.