I turned in my midterm today, a typed testament to why I am on top. To why I deserved that scholarship of mine. I recall it saying I am an "outstanding student" who works hard and has a lot of promise or potential. The continuation of this award will be to have my name on a plaque in the hall. But nearly anyone can work hard and produce a paper. I sail the tide that lifts all ships.

The other ships are my classmates, my peers, and their knowledge. The tide is the energies and actions in a few of my relationships, my curiosity about math, my desire to help others (as a classmate, tutor, and teacher) and my hunger for success. The sailing is me reaping the benefits of all that work. It will not suffice just to do any more. That tide is too much to ignore. That tide is to propel me.

When I think of "sail" as a verb, I think of it as both a watery synonym for "depart" and, of course, journey. Both are apropos, for the strength of the tide is proportional to the quality of grad school I attend, and maybe how far away I move.

I think there are maybe four other people who could belong on that name plaque: Suzanne, Ambra, Jack, and Karen. Only Karen is my peer though. The first two are taking a fifth year of school. The word on the fourth is that he has a couple of degrees already. Only the fourth is in my class, and even then, she is precocious, graduating in three years (as I would have done, in different circumstances).

But maybe I should think that I am pretty damn talented, too. After all, I got a 102 on the test. There were two better scores, and TJ, the math marvel and holder of two degrees, did not earn one of them. Perhaps one was Dan and one was Jack, or Suzanne. I think I am near the top of my class. I may be near the top of all classes. So, then, it might be appropriate to act like it.