“What Do You Want to Be When You Grow Up?”

We are born with infinite potential locked away in our very being. Yet somewhere along the way, between childhood and "adulting", something terrible happens to our boundless potential energy; it gets devastatingly capped!

You’re between 8-to-10 years old. You’re full of rugrat energy, bustling with inexhaustible imagination. The only “real challenge” you face is the FOMO you get from missing that one episode of Dragon Ball Z ?? or Pokémon that you just know your friends will be raving about the next day. (Maybe we can add that black memo book that you forgot to get your mom to sign your homework off on - stressful.)

One thing you’re absolutely sure of, however, is that you’re going to be whatever you dreamt of becoming.

Personally, I was either going to build mini robots (like that guy in Angelina Jolie's Tomb Raider ) or be a renowned scientist (like Einstein)??????.

So by the time I was in Form-3, I’d already attended about two Manzini Regional Science Fairs??, hosted at the famed Salesian High School. The energy always felt electrified with hundreds of highly competitive young 'scientists' who oozed eclectic ideas, ready to show off their enchanting projects?.

Mr. Muchima, in his calm but reassuring tone, would customarily share a few encouraging words to his tiny army of science nerds before dispatching them for ‘battle’, “Go out there and learn all you can, maybe you’ll win a few prizes while you’re at it. Don’t forget to have fun!”. And off we'd go, sprawling the scenes.

In awe of the whole experience, “Maybe next year we could make something better than that remote-controlled robotic hand we saw earlier??…”, I ecstatically told my friends.

During my spare time, I’d dismantle my cousin’s toys just to pull out the tiny motors, wires, and gears that made it tick. Reconstructing it as I saw fit.

For some odd reason, my high school hadn’t participated in the Working Models category of the Science Fair yet; just Quizzes, Problem Solving, and Research. So I was determined to break that cycle.

Having won the previous year’s Problem-Solving challenge??, we were opportunistically set on competing with something more tangible. Armed with the pseudo-maturity of a senior secondary school prefect in Form 4, I was ready for the challenge.

“I’m sorry boys, but the school just can’t afford the equipment you asked for…”, As it turned out, we couldn’t get the sensors and transistors we needed for the design I’d submitted to Mr. Muchima, “You’ll just have to make do with what you have”, pointing to the wires and mini electric motors I’d embezzled from my 3-year old cousin’s toys???.

We knew right then that we would have a challenge proving our grand 'perpetual-motion', renewable energy project. Like a dimming light bulb??, giving in after an evening storm, our shoulders slumped, heads drooped, and spirits waned??.

The next day, purpose-reloaded, we continued working on the wireframes - if anything, we would focus on the research ?? and make it compelling enough to woo the judges’ impressions. Mr. Muchima "fueled our bunsen burners" with motivation.??

“We’ll just have to explain why this is the best project out here”, I told the team. So every afternoon ??, we rendezvoused at the Science Lab for an hour, stared down at the frames of wire - meticulously designed to look high-tech and edgy - armed with more research and continued tinkering till the school siren broke our sprint??.

June of that year drew in, the long-awaited Science Fair was back and it was show-time all over again. Nerves packed to the brim, we loaded our rigidly motionless, 'perpetual-motion' wire car, sandwiched between rolls of carefully designed charts with neat, colourful graphs ?? and well-written research ?? - I personally made sure that every detail would be an extra point to our credit. “How else would we win a Working Model competition without a ‘working’ model?”, I convinced myself, gripping over every literary component.

Like a reverent coach, Mr. Muchima didn’t let anything discourage us, not even the sophisticated, mechanical prowess of the team’s project next to our stand; clearly their school had a neat budget.?

At this point, our na?veté shedded off. We saw the odds of our success dwindling each time a team unveiled their project. My anxiety precipitated sweat bullets as the judges paced across the room, clipboards clutched towards their chests.

“So, what do we have here?”, one judge inspected, as I hoisted open one of the charts...

We are all products of our environments and circumstances, personally and professionally.

We All Need Mentors

We didn't win that year, we had no chance. Nor did we stop believing in our ability to work on big problems (even if they seemed as preposterous as a self-powering electric car).

But beneath that creative courage, was a great mentor that dared us to go for it, despite our humble circumstances.

This is precisely what every young dreamer deserves: someone to believe in their 'untamed' potential.

So thank you to every passionate educator and mentor, like Mr Muchima, who instils a spirit of self-belief and self-reliance in their students.

Next time you ask a child what they want to be when they grow up, ponder on this question:

"Who's mentoring them to get closer to their dreams?"

Let's Go!