A story about support and community

It was 5:30am and pitch black outside, frosty Jindabyne weather. My friends were fast asleep.

I’d meet him outside my cabin and we’d walk to the single multi-purpose court in the area. I’d do my physical warm-up until my hands weren’t numb and the light crept through the trees, enough to see the ball. We’d train for a couple hours by hitting and doing fitness, before joining the rest of the group for breakfast.

I wasn’t meant to go to year 11 camp. Being at the peak of my junior international tennis career, I had to go to Melbourne the following week to compete. 5 days without training before a big tournament is unheard of… Never a good idea.

The teachers and principal at my high school however, made sure that I would get the best of both worlds. They told me I’d regret missing this camp, but understood my other commitments. In light of this, they sent my PDHPE teacher to train with me every morning, before attending the activities with the rest of the grade.

His name is Mr Robinson. A PDHPE teacher. A recreational tennis player. Someone that supported me from the beginning.

 I still got to climb Mt Kosciuszko.

 I had the best time with my friends.

 I got to train every day and prepare for the tournament.

Year 11 Camp ended up being one of the most memorable times of high school for me.

My learning: Never forget the people that helped you along the way.