Sophia Castillo '17 Recruiting Profile

"Aerodynamically, the bumble bee shouldn't be able to fly, but the bumble bee doesn't know it, so it goes on flying anyway." -Mary Kay Ash. My entire life I have faced impossible odds. I have been told, "you're not big enough," "you're too young," and, worst of all, "you can't because you're a girl." Being a student athlete is centered around overcoming all obstacles in order to succeed, even when others don't believe in your abilities. 

Throughout my childhood, I was never considered an athlete. Although I was very driven and dedicated, I lacked hand eye coordination. I was always picked last in gym class for kickball teams, and I was always the designated bench warmer for flag football games. I was scared of footballs and volleyballs flying towards me and did not fail to get hit in the face several times throughout my youth. Jealous of the athletic kids who won soccer games and wore matching sweatshirts to school, I never thought I could be a part of a sport team, until I found rowing.

The first time I stepped into the West Side Rowing Club boathouse as a nervous freshman, I was shocked by the rows upon rows of long boats. Tall and muscular upperclassmen marched boats down to the water in complete unison, listening to the calls of a mean-sounding small girl. The scene was completely intimidating, and I thought my career on the sidelines would inevitably continue. My coach asked me to be a coxswain, seeing as I was only 110 pounds and smaller than the rest of the girls on the novice team. Surprisingly, I declined the offer. I risked being the worst rower on the team, but I knew I at least wanted to have a chance to prove myself. I attended practice religiously, very rarely missing a day. I watched videos illustrating proper rowing technique and spent extra time in the tanks watching myself in the mirror. When I was introduced to the erg, I figured out what the numbers meant and made a decision to get better splits than anyone else. During the winter season, I put on 20 pounds of muscle through lifting and erging with my coach, Justin Farrington. Quickly, I emerged as a competitor, and I started beating the times of varsity rowers. My coach moved me up to the varsity lightweight 8 for the spring and quite simply told me, "Your job is to make the boat faster." Since that day, that is all I have done. I work to have the best erg score on the team, perfect my technique, and stroke the top women's boat of the club. I am satisfied with nothing less than the best.

I approach academics in a similar way to how I approach rowing. "Average" is never satisfactory. As a girl, I always had to prove myself to boys that thought girls couldn't be smart. I made a point of consistently earning the best test scores in my classes. I listened to my teachers, worked without distraction on assignments, and studied until I knew each topic like the back of my hand. Not much has changed since those days. I am now valedictorian, and I strive to maintain my 4.0 GPA everyday. No matter how many times I was told, "girls aren't smart," I didn't believe it.

I am Mary Kay Ash's "bumble bee," physically incapable of flying but doing so anyway. I was a very small girl who was told that she couldn't achieve what others could. I couldn't be a good athlete because I was feeble and couldn't catch a ball. I couldn't earn the best grades because I was just a girl. With the odds stacked against me, I have risen to crush all obstacles in my way. Although I shouldn't be able to fly, I am.