I Was Going To Step Down As A Chive Admin And Then I Met Grace

I Was Going To Step Down As A Chive Admin And Then I Met Grace

Now I don't think I could ever give up,


This past weekend I along with hundreds of other Chivers traveled down to Austin, TX for the annual Green Gala event. This is my second year attending and it has been by far my favorite event. For those of you that don't know, the Chive is according to John Resig, is "a group of misfits trying to make the world 10% happier."

We organize fundraisers, we support causes that often get overlooked, we fight for those who can't fight for themselves. I am an admin for our local chapter, I get the pleasure of working on creative new ways to raise money, hosting events, promoting, and changing the world.

Most of the time, it is challenging and admins get burned out, it happens. We put in a lot of work and just because I get asked all the time, no, we don't get paid. I get the satisfaction of knowing I helped make someone's day a little better, and that is always more than enough for me.

But sometimes, it all becomes too much. I work a full-time job, I admin for my states Chive and Berry chapter, I write articles like this one you're reading once a week plus manage our social media. I am a busy woman, and sometimes I start to wonder, something gotta give.

Between being discouraged when event planning doesn't go my way or feeling like my co-admins aren't pulling their weight, I feel alone in this. I second guess myself and the value I bring to the Chive as an organization. Do I care too much? Do I not care enough? What could I be doing better?

Then Saturday night came along, and I met Grace. She is a Chive Charities recipient with an amazing story and an even more remarkable smile. Seeing her so happy, made me remember why I do this. I am here for her. I am working my ass off for her and other people like her. I am here to make her life 10% happier.

I was ready to give up, I was ready to walk away from something that makes me so happy, but how could I ever think that way when Grace smiled and gave me one of her bracelets and said: "Thank you." She reminded me of the bigger picture, she reminded me of my motivation, She lit that spark in me, She helped me remember why I started this so many years ago.

I am honored to do what I can to help people like Grace. I am humbled at the opportunity to help those less fortunate than me by no fault of their own. I am proud to be an admin for my Chive chapter and I will not throw in the towel as long as there is someone that needs my help.

Popular Right Now

The Coach That Killed My Passion

An open letter to the coach that made me hate a sport I once loved.

I fell in love with the game in second grade.

I lived for every practice and every game. I lived for the countless hours in the gym or my driveway perfecting every shot, every pass, and every move I could think of. Every night after dinner, I would go shoot and would not allow myself to go inside until I hit a hundred shots. I had a desire to play, to get better and to be the best basketball player I could possibly be.

I had many coaches between church leagues, rec leagues, personal coaches, basketball camps, middle school, and high school. Most of the coaches I had the opportunity to play for had a passion for the game like I did. They inspired me to never stop working. They would tell me I had a natural ability. I took pride in knowing that I worked hard and I took pride in the compliments that I got from my coaches and other parents. I always looked forward to the drills and, believe it or not, I even looked forward to the running. These coaches had a desire to teach, and I had a desire to learn through every good and bad thing that happened during many seasons. Thank you to the coaches that coached and supported me through the years.

SEE ALSO: My Regrets From My Time As A College Softball Player

Along with the good coaches, are a few bad coaches. These are the coaches that focused on favorites instead of the good of the entire team. I had coaches that no matter how hard I worked, it would never be good enough for them. I had coaches that would take insults too far on the court and in the classroom.

I had coaches that killed my passion and love for the game of basketball.

When a passion dies, it is quite possibly the most heartbreaking thing ever. A desire you once had to play every second of the day is gone, it turns into dreading every practice and game. It turns into leaving every game with earphones in so other parents don't talk to you about it. It meant dreading school the next day due to everyone talking about the previous game. My passion was destroyed when a coach looked at me in the eyes and said, "You could go to any other school and start varsity, but you just can't play for me."

SEE ALSO: Should College Athletes Be Limited To One Sport?

Looking back now at the amount of tears shed after practices and games, I just want to say to this coach:

Making me feel bad about myself doesn't make me want to play and work hard for you, whether in the classroom or on the court. Telling me that, "Hard work always pays off," and not keeping that word doesn't make me want to work hard either. I spent every minute of the day focusing on making sure you didn't see the pain that I felt, and all of my energy was put towards that fake smile when I said I was OK with how you treated me. There are not words for the feeling I got when parents of teammates asked why I didn't play more or why I got pulled after one mistake, I simply didn't have an answer. The way you made me feel about myself and my ability to play ball made me hate myself, not only did you make me doubt my ability to play, but you also turned my teammates against me to where they didn't trust my abilities. I would not wish the pain you caused me on my greatest enemy. I pray that one day, eventually, when all of your players quit coming back that you realize that it isn't all about winning records. It's about the players.

You can have winning records without a good coach if you have a good team, but you won't have a team if you can't treat players with the respect they deserve.

SEE ALSO: To The Little Girl Picking Up A Basketball For The First Time

Cover Image Credit: Equality Charter School

Related Content

Connect with a generation
of new voices.

We are students, thinkers, influencers, and communities sharing our ideas with the world. Join our platform to create and discover content that actually matters to you.

Learn more Start Creating

Poetry On Odyssey: Gardner

'I could smell her all over you / and once I even saw the juices / dripping from your lips"


I knew it all along,

that the flowers in her garden

were laced with the sweetest nectar,

that flow from her hands to her hips.

The same scent that used to cling to you,

I could smell her all over you,

and once I even saw the juices

dripping from your lips.

But that garden has long since been set ablaze

Because things always get in the way.

And I guess that now you long to venture back,

to see if another seed has taken root.

And it's alright, I suppose,

My garden is far less vibrant.

It's been weeded too often, clipped too far

But hers is still so young, so fresh and full of life.

So you still water my plants,

and pretend to be in her field of flowers.

And you wonder to yourself,

because you don't know if you ever truly liked the taste

of bitter deceit swimming through your veins.

Related Content

Facebook Comments