This I Believe: Perseverance

When I was in primary school, I was always teased because I was chubbier than everyone else. I was very naive and gullible, and this made me the victim of many practical jokes and bullying. I was even insulted on various occasions, for being fat. I had no real friends to speak of, except maybe one or two who were nicer to me.

At that tender age, innocent and sheltered from the harsh realities of the world, I thought they were -- there was no other word for it -- cool. Yes, cool. They'd play soccer every day during recess, coming back looking like soccer professionals a minute or two before the bell rang. They'd eat lunch together after school, laughing and joking over plates of fragrant chicken rice, steaming bowls of noodles and half-empty bottles of sweet drinks. They'd even go over to one another's house for birthday parties, which were rumoured to be the best ever hosted. They were an adventurous, rebellious group, and to be counted amongst their ranks I thought I was willing to do anything.

It started off with joining in their soccer games. I was always the last one chosen, the fat little kid who couldn't kick a ball to save his life. Oft I heard a groan of disdain or a sigh of annoyance from the captain who had to pick me. Oft I caught glimpse of my team members glaring at me with irritated faces. Oft I ran to take a pass, only for the pass to be taken by someone else from my team. I was never allowed to touch the ball, except when they wanted to mock me. Then they would pass it to me, and I was permitted to dribble straight towards the enemy goal. Inevitably, I would miss time and time again. I would miss all the passes, fumble over my own clumsy feet and fall down, time and time again. I was the Zero.

At lunch, when I brought my food to the table the laughter would subtly die down. The animated banter would come to a halt. Even the food seemed less fragrant in the chilly atmosphere. Soon, I got the message: I could not eat with them. But in my naivete, in the innocence of youth, I persisted with my beliefs. It was just because I hadn't proved myself yet, right? I could still win their friendship, right? Missing all the balls in soccer didn't matter, right?

I was bullied, beaten, mocked, taunted, teased, tormented and humiliated. And yet I now I stand all the more firm, unshaken by tremors, undaunted by storms, unblemished from the lesson learnt. I have learnt to climb onto the obstacles that block my path, and turn them into stepping stones. And it is these erstwhile friends that are responsible for this.

I have them to thank for moulding me into the person I am today. If they had not tripped me, would I have learnt to pick myself up? If they had not taunted me, would I have learnt to ignore the taunts? If they had not wronged me so many times, would I have learnt how to endure the torments? No. Just as plants amongst weeds strive ever more to break the weeds' stranglehold and capture the light of sun, a person who has been tormented will fight all the more determinedly to rise above the opposition. Just as the hand once burnt by fire learns to handle the flames better, a person once deceived will know who not to count as friends. Just as gazelles run ever more swiftly with lions snapping at their heels, a person who has been bullied will be spurred on even more.

Perseverance is the mark of a true leader: to continue in adversity, or not embark at all. I believe perseverance is the quality that serves one best in life.