In 2007, I wrote this essay about my high school best friend Mark Libatique in response to a college essay prompt to write about someone who influenced me. Using this essay, I was accepted to Duke University and Barnard College. I also modified the essay into a speech for Academic Decathlon and won a Bronze medal at the North Jersey regional competition.
I looked everywhere, but could not find the popcorn. I thought quickly, took a large piece of aluminum foil, and sat on the stage.
“What are you doing?” asked a voice. It was Mark Libatique—our prop manager, Andrew Aguecheek, and my best friend.
“Making popcorn. Help me, please.” In the five minutes we had left, Mark and I ripped the foil into bits and put them into paper bags. The actors frantically got ready as our producer screamed at them loud enough to be heard six miles away. In the chaos, my best friend and I, focused and determined, shredded the foil.
The audience entered, Mark and I had finished, and our production of Twelfth Night was ready to begin. That night we acted, sang, and thankfully, were able to let it snow “popcorn” right on cue.
The cast of the Rudesby Algorithm's "Twelfth Night" production which is discussed in this written portrait. The performance took place in September 2007.
Without Mark, not only would I have been popcorn-less that night, but I would be a very different person. After all, as my grandpa would say, “A man is made by his closest friends.” Pre-Mark, I had a negative attitude—both cynical and foolish, I was easily depressed, which affected my writing. My work lacked wisdom, grace, and enlightenment. Frankly, I was blind.
In sophomore year, I took up choral singing. Mark was also in the choir and we spent over ten hours together weekly. Eventually, we grew close and did more than sing oratorios and hymns together. Mark, normally very private, trusted me with his inner turmoil. I shared mine, too, along with my joy. It was a mind-opening experience. What they say about talking to plants might be true—after all, when we began to talk, I began to grow. I shared my troubles fearlessly, and Mark helped me see the brighter side of things. When I said, “Nothing ever goes right for me! I can’t find my candy!”
He replied, “Good. Then your dentist won’t find cavities.” Then like always, we’d laugh. Outside, I was smiling a lot; inside, I was changing little by little.
Before, I only knew him as an honor student and YouTube-obsessed polyglot. I never would’ve guessed that this skinny, little kid would take on one of the biggest roles my life had to offer—best friend.
As best friends we continually support and inspire each other. But of course, we also have our conflicts. Mark and I are both devoted Christians and while we respect each other’s faith, we sometimes clash. Mark is Catholic. And I am Baptist. We often debate passionately over doctrinal issues, but no matter what’s said, we always respect each other and leave the argument peacefully. I learned not to let conflicts complicate friendships and to always remember what I have in common with others even when we discuss our differences.
Mark is loyal, honest, and thoughtful. I wanted to be all those things, too, and in our time together, I realized I wasn’t that far from accomplishing that dream. When Mark accidentally left his private journal in our school gym, I was tempted to read his secrets. But I treasured our friendship so much, that instead, I guarded his diary from mind-invaders, then returned it. I put our friendship first.
Mark Libatique and I had an obnoxiously dressed-up dinner at McDonalds in 2009
When Mark had to do a speech for English class, he asked me to critique him. I suggested ways for him to improve instead of sparing him because I wanted the best for my friend. At the end of the exercise, we both found ways to improve our speaking skills, and I improved my honesty.
I have changed a lot in the past few years; now I am happier and more positive. I owe part of my transformation to Mark. So attempting to return the favor, I wrote him a letter about all the things I loved about him (in case he ever needed encouragement.) I thanked him for being loyal, honest, and thoughtful—just some of the reasons that he is my best friend. He loved the letter, and pointed out that now, I was all those things too.
STALKING.
I SEES YOU.