"Who I Am"

When I was in High School, all the kids at my church took this early morning seminary class. When I say early, what I mean is, wake up at 5am everyday for 4 years straight, early. Every year we would study a different book of scripture from the standard works. And, each day we would read a different chapter from the book we were studying that year. I remember most vividly the year that I studied The Old Testament. 

Not only did we study the scriptures but twice a year, once in October and once in April, we would play a game. Jeopardy. This game of Jeopardy was based around an event that only took place twice a year in our church. We call it General Conference. The prophet of our church, and other leaders meet in Salt Lake City, Utah and give talks to members of the church and they are broadcast all around the world. Our task, as seminary students that year, was to watch the broadcast and come to class the next Monday prepared to play Jeopardy. I took the task of coming prepared as more of a challenge.

That next Monday class, all of the students are sitting, waiting for the teacher to start class, just casually discussing the amount of notes they took. “Oh I took 2 pages.” “Well, I have 3.” Meanwhile, I just sit by and hold my tongue. Not because I was embarrassed that I had taken 18 pages of notes, but because I didn’t want them to be embarrassed that they had so few. I have to force myself to hold back an evil cackle over the fact that I was pretty much guaranteed a win. The glory of winning and the grand prize, of a king size candy bar of the winners choice, was mine!

So, the teacher starts the class, we say a prayer and I prepare to win the game. But before I can transform into complete game mode, my worst nightmare happens, she gives us partners. Not only do I know not one person in this class due to the fact that my family has moved every summer for the past four years, but I do not want a partner to drag me down. I don’t know this boy, Spencer, that I have been randomly assigned to compete with, what if he only paid attention well enough to get the one page of notes that sits in front of him. The buzz that I felt leading up to the class is gone, replaced with a feeling of defeat even though the game hasn’t even started.

Once everyone is matched with a partner, we begin. My teacher, with her good heart, tried to create a game that would enable all of her students to have an equal chance to answer the questions and to win the game. Her plan did not count on my overkill of note taking and unforgiving spirit. Spencer and I easily slip into the lead, giving no chance to the other groups to even come close to our score.

Spencer and I, as it turns out, are in the same frame of mind. We become, what could only be described as, the perfect partnership. The answers I can’t quite remember are on the tip of his tongue, and the answers he can’t recall are found in my lengthy notes. With our spirits high and the other team’s spirits low, everything was just as it should be.

The game burns on. The other teams by some miracle have almost completely caught up to our score. But, I’m not scared, Spencer’s not scared, we know we will win. We kick into overdrive and push on. Doing whatever it takes to get the prize.

We fight against unfair pointage. Partial answers don’t get full points, not when I’m playing. We fight against favoritism. The teacher’s son gets no special treatment, not in this game. We fight against cheating. Using phones is cheating, in all circumstances. But, most importantly we fight against hectoring. Spencer and I earned our top spot, without a doubt, no matter what the enemies say.

As it nears the end of our 50 minute class we move onto the final round. My breath is short, my hands numb, my heart pounding. We are so close, this is it, the end.

For the last question, the one to set us over the top, we are given a whiteboard and a marker. Before she reveals the final question she sets a timer. We will have 2 minutes to discuss an answer with our partner and write it on our board before the time runs out. Our teacher is confident that no one will know the answer. She has found a question so obscure she is sure that even the top team will be unable to guess correctly.

The question appears on the board. “How many temples have been announced and built by the church?” Groans come from all over the room. It is evident that no one is sure of an answer. Spencer and I look at eachother with wide eyes. I scramble through my notes while he racks his brain. The time is ticking away. 2 minutes, 1 minute and 30 seconds, 45 seconds. Still no answer. Not a clue. By now the other teams have written down their best guess and called it a day. I can’t do that, not when we are so close to winning. 20 seconds, 15 seconds. Spencer says “Just guess Becca.” So, I do. I write 172, my best guess.

The correct answer flashes on the screen. 172. I feel like screaming. Spencer and I jump up, high five and do a victory dance. There is no greater feeling in the world. Our hard work paying off, our friendship growing, and our hearts soaring. Now I have the glory, and tomorrow I will have the candy bar.