Making It Through - Joonha Ko
This story was originally published on The Sideline Post with the permission to re-publish on Bouncing Back.
To say reaching this point in my life has been an easy and smooth ride would be dishonest. Everyone is unique in the individual struggles they face, but a common denominator among challenges is that you can always learn from it. I learned a lot of lessons just in these past two years that have allowed me to reevaluate what is most important to me.
In my junior year of high school, I was on track to create a lasting high school career. I started a majority of our games and really felt I was in a good place. However, senior year brought its share of unforeseen challenges. Your senior season is supposed to be one of the most memorable — it’s the time when the recruiting process finally winds down; when the phrase “play every game like it’s your last” has a new beat to it; and finally, our turn to finally enjoy a senior night. Instead, my senior season was replete with ill-advised demands, a seat on the bench, and no chance of a senior night in my future.
At the beginning of my senior season, my coach wanted a few of my teammates and I to meet a weight requirement. For me, this meant losing 20-30 pounds — a difficult task for anyone to take on. All my life, I always embraced myself as the big kid and bruiser whenever I was on the court. I was inside the key, hitting bodies. Losing this weight did not only take me away from the type of game I knew how to play, but impacted me mentally. I was asked to lose this weight only to sit on the bench when I have been consistently starting and playing well? I was not sure how to cope.
Only two games into the season, I knew it would be in my best interest to leave the team. I knew what leaving meant: no everyday competition, no more playing with my brothers, and not as much help in navigating the recruiting process. However, leaving the team brought me a renewed sense of what was most important: focusing on school and getting into a good college.
I had a set routine. I would get shots up after school everyday and would reach out to schools on my own every chance I could get. I sent emails, went to exposure camps, everything.
It was a sigh of relief when Emory gave me the chance to play basketball for the program. With it being a Division 3 school, I had to get into the school on my own. Success seemed so close, but there was just one more barrier to tackle.
I write this story as a proud freshman on Emory’s basketball team. I made it through despite all odds. While I did not foresee these past years going the way they did, no one was prepared for the effects of the pandemic. As much I wish I could start my college basketball career already, I am just happy that I am in a place and environment where I can truly be myself and enjoy the presence of basketball once more.
No matter how the future in the basketball world unfolds, having the opportunity to revive a career I had almost given up on is a blessing I will always cherish.
I have played basketball for such a long time and it has taught me so many lessons: leadership, teamwork, sacrifice, character, confidence. But what my specific high school experience taught me are two things:
Never quit. I knew I wanted to end my basketball career on a high note. High school didn’t offer me that opportunity, so I knew I had to make it somewhere to get the closure I wanted. I went through the work myself with the help of my parents. They even created a website for me with all my highlights to show to coaches. If anyone has taught me the importance of never giving up, it was my parents. They pushed and supported me throughout this entire process, and I am forever grateful.
Your worth doesn’t come from anyone else’s acceptance. I spent most of my senior year feeling insecure because I did not fit someone else’s image of what was best for me. I now understand that I am the only one who knows what is truly best for me. I did not fit his system, so I made one of my own: a system that still relied on hard work, but one that puts my happiness above all else.
