Jordan was a first place winner of a 2025 NJCTS Scholarship.
Here is the essay he included with his application.
When the Devils scored, I blinked.
My hands froze while my eyes moved involuntarily. Although the Devils won, I felt as though I’d lost. My individual battle against a force I couldn’t control had just begun.
As a kid, I thoroughly enjoyed New Jersey Devils games. One night, my family and I cheered for our home team against the Dallas Stars. We sat in the highest row of the rink, close to the bright, blinding lights focused on the ice below. My eyes – extremely sensitive to the lights – blinked uncontrollably.
My unorthodox movements scared my family. After the game, my parents took me to Saint Barnabas Medical Center for an overnight evaluation. From there, we traveled to Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia and Columbia Presbyterian Hospital in New York. After an electroencephalogram test (EEG), brain MRIs, genetic testing, and multiple blood tests, doctors were still stumped. My signs and symptoms indicated a possible diagnosis of Tourette syndrome, though there’s no specific test for the condition.
Unsure of my future, I tried to handle the day-to-day inconveniences as best I could. Over time, Tourette’s posed various difficulties. Along with blinking, sometimes my neck jerked and my stomach clenched. Chatting with people became more demanding, as the movements distracted me and prevented me from retaining information. Still, once a discussion ended, I nodded my head, blinked, and carried on.
Playing competitive sports also became more tiring. Experiencing tics on both the soccer and lacrosse fields wasted valuable energy. At first, instead of communicating to my teammates, I reacted to my fatigue by retreating into silence. Fortunately, I learned to identify triggers like stress or a lack of sleep, and address them proactively. Handling the challenges of tics, l ‘ve gained confidence and emotional intelligence. More importantly, I’ve made it my mission as a Youth Advocate for NJCTS to educate others on Tourette’s and show people that tics do not define me or others.
Now, rather than looking at the blinding lights at the Devils game, I’m under the lights myself. Last year, I gave a speech as the newly elected president of my school’s National Honor Society. As I proudly spoke to the audience, I realized how far I’ve come from that hockey game, when I felt scared and alone. I seek to improve my peers’ well being, emphasizing the importance of being proud of our accomplishments and supportive of each other. As I stepped off the stage after my speech, my classmates praised me.
Once everyone left the auditorium, I stayed behind to really take in the moment. It was just me and the bright lights. Finally, after more than ten years of struggles, I realized that although the glare can feel intimidating, with enough courage and hard work, I can embrace the spotlight. When I stepped off the stage, I walked back to see my family, standing in the shadows. They buried me in hugs and kisses. And rather than blinking, I celebrated.
