I love the Percy Jackson series. The moment I picked up “The Lightning Thief” in the fifth grade, I was plunged deep into the world of irresponsible gods who don’t pay child support and 12-year-olds who are dumped at impossible crossroads where every choice sounds equally like a one-way ticket to therapy.
As far as I was concerned, it was only a matter of time before I was claimed and shipped off to spend my summers clad in neon orange with my #cool #swag #goated powers. But there was one nagging question in my head: Who would be my godly parent?
Naturally, to answer this very-important-mindnumbing question I turned to the ancient archives, dove deep into my soul, unlocked my deepest secrets and answered an internet quiz made by an overly edgy middle schooler.
Thirty minutes later, the council spoke: Hecate, goddess of crossroads.
I was the daughter of the intersection of Portola and Yale, yield to me pedestrians, fear me and my right-hand turns. To a preteen without a car, that is a #uncool #notswag #verymuchnotgoated power.
So, I abandoned my dreams of ever going to Camp Half-Blood, but a new fork in the road appeared: the advice of my dad in a take-it-or-leave-it fashion.
He told me that the trick with dealing with crossroads was not to dwell on past choices, to move on. I chose to follow his advice.
Every choice I made in recent memory, I would try not to overthink. Sure, regret would occasionally creep in a month later after a stressful day or watching someone else succeed down a road I abandoned, but there would be that immediate confidence in my decision for five-ish minutes; those minutes, a temporary promise to not spiral over alternative timelines or end games, would be all that I needed.
When I chose Beginning Journalism over band freshman year, I scrolled through the AP Style subreddit almost every day. By committing fully to The Howler, I committed myself to understanding all the dimensions of this school. I interviewed people I was just mutuals with on Instagram and became more aware of perspectives beyond my own, forming friendships I would have not made otherwise.
Somehow I am qualified to lead the woodwind section, and honestly I was terrified at the beginning of the year. But every fumble of music and miscalculated choice to help my section bond was not something to sulk over, it was something to learn from. I learned that some grow by being left alone while others thrive when more specific guidance, either way by committing to their growth I grew as well.
And, yes there are always bound to be exceptions to the rule: if your choice meant being disrespectful or deeming another human being it doesn’t matter if you commit to that choice enough. You still hurt someone.
But, to those people caught at that crossroad, not knowing what to do, learn from those consequences; once you make a “bad” choice don’t make it again.
This was Hecate’s blessing: the ability to make any choice at the crossroads, the right one, by committing to it and learning from it.
As the guardian of these roads, this is my message to you, future and current T-wolves. Make a choice. Grow from it. Live with no regrets. We can all be children of Hecate with our #cool #swag #goated powers.
