My basketball journey is unconventional. As a young kid I’d shoot a basketball while riding a RipStik skateboard or dabble in games of knockout, but I truly started playing quite late — around age 12.

My dad often jokes he wished he introduced me to basketball earlier. He’s convinced if I started AAU in elementary school, I’d be at a different level now. He won’t admit it, but my mother and I both know a part of him wishes to live out his dream of becoming a college athlete, through me. Although this dream may not become a reality, our favorite way to bond is through basketball.

My dad rents out high school gyms to host pickup basketball runs semiweekly with his group of friends. Whenever I go, I am the lone teenage girl playing against a group of middle-aged men. It sounds strange, but I owe much of my personal progress to pickup.

When I began playing club in seventh grade, I’d only see the court if our team was up 30 in the last two minutes. Otherwise, my position was right bench. I dreaded practices and games but never quit basketball — thanks to pickup. Whether it was practicing with my dad’s group or hooping with strangers at my local community center, I was able to experiment with new moves without the fear of making mistakes.

Months later, I stopped shooting with two hands. I could dribble a basketball between the legs without awkwardly contorting my body. By working on individual skills instead of comparing myself to others my age, I derived enjoyment from basketball and saw rapid improvement. When I look back at my journey, the Chinese idiom “塞翁失马” (a blessing in disguise) describes it best.

Had I received formal training and started younger, I have no doubt the competitive pressure would have burned me out, as it has done to many young athletes. Pressure is a privilege, but only when one is ready to handle it — not when you’re still learning the fundamentals at age 12 or when the pressure damages your mental health.

After realizing my passion for basketball by the end of middle school and spending my summer before high school improving my speed and agility, I was fortunate to meet an amazing coaching staff at Richard Montgomery.

My freshman year was disrupted by covid-19, and the monotony of virtual learning caused me to experience depressive symptoms. What lifted me up was basketball. It was a sanctuary where I could direct my mind and energy away from all my other worries. I eagerly attended conditioning through Zoom and masked outdoor workouts with the varsity team. On days when there wasn’t school practice, I’d frequent outdoor courts to shoot under the stars.

Sophomore year I played JV. Coach Claire Hannan consistently gave me tips, helping me develop mental toughness as a point guard and leadership skills as captain. Junior year I played varsity for Coach Michael Oakes and assistant Sam Griffin, who continued to push me past my limits.

Sometimes it still feels like a fever dream — a girl who stumbled through AAU, finding her rhythm upon joining her high school team. Success often hinges on fitting into team dynamics and coaching style, but it’s also about being prepared when luck comes your way and you’re given a chance. As Coach Oakes likes to say, ‘Don’t get ready, stay ready.’

Now, I’m in a leadership position that 12-year-old me would’ve never imagined, and I’m ready to take on the challenge. Though my mental health occasionally fluctuates with my performance, I’m not defined by wins and losses. By learning to love something I wasn’t good at immediately, I’m enjoying the process more than the outcome — and when you love the process, the outcome usually turns in your favor.

This season, I believe our team will go far because players aren’t looking to be the star. Instead, we’re all finding fulfillment by starring in our own roles. Together, we’re stronger than the sum of our parts.