By ECE OZDEMIR
After taking on the role of opinion editor for the newspaper, the thought of writing a “goodbye” piece never crossed my mind. Believe it or not, this is incredibly emotional for me; by nature, I have always been someone whose heart is easily moved to tears. I still remember my first day at this school as if it were yesterday. It wasn’t my first year in America, but I felt the heavy tension of being a transfer student at a new institution.
First, I want to take you back to where my volleyball journey began. My interest in sports started around age seven. When my father worked at a university, I would attend summer camps on campus. We had one-hour training sessions for various sports every day. By the way, do you remember the tallest person in your school class? In every school I attended, that person was me. Because of my height, I first gravitated toward basketball. Eventually, I stopped attending general summer camps and focused only on basketball training. After a week or two, I told my father I was bored and wanted to try something else. I moved on to tennis, but—pardon me—I realized I didn’t enjoy individual sports at all. I quit tennis shortly after.
Then, I wanted to try something that was the complete opposite: gymnastics. I remember my father taking me to the gym. Our coach had just arrived from Russia and spoke very little Turkish. At seven years old, I hadn’t considered whether I had the “right body type” for gymnastics. After the coach met me, he told my father in broken Turkish that my physique was not suitable. For my age, I was big-boned. I didn’t understand how that could prevent me from doing gymnastics. It was a very young age to experience my first instance of body shaming, and though I didn’t realize it then, it made me want to stop playing sports altogether.
I didn’t participate in any sports for about two years—until coaches from local clubs came to our school to recruit players. As you can guess, my height gave me an advantage. I was selected for the team and began training with my age group. My development in volleyball was incredibly fast. Years passed, and I lived and breathed the sport.
At 13, I received an offer to join Galatasaray, one of the biggest sports clubs in Turkey. Thirteen is a very young age to leave your family and move to another city. For the sake of volleyball, I had to teach myself how to do laundry, cook, and face the challenges of life. I achieved significant success in Turkey, and at 17, I earned the right to play for the Turkish National Team—one of my biggest dreams.
My high school years were spent chasing a volleyball; I didn’t have high expectations for the university exam. However, an agency called Play Sports Abroad, which helps athletes in Turkey find athletic scholarships in America, reached out to me. Their question was clear: “Would you like to play volleyball and complete your education in America?” I was stunned. Would a school in America really give me a scholarship? After discussions with my family, my recruiting process began. After speaking with several schools, I accepted an offer from Idaho State University. My visa process and the move to America happened incredibly fast. If you had asked my nine-year-old self if volleyball would take me across the world to fulfill my dreams, I probably would have laughed and asked what you were talking about.
My first month was a blur of saying “yes,” “no,” “I don’t understand,” and “okay.” While English education in Turkey is rigorous, nothing prepared me for the American accent. With the help of my teammates, I stepped out of my comfort zone and began using every word I knew in sentences. Idaho was a strange place—incredibly cold and overwhelming. I struggled to adapt to the cultural differences, and by the spring semester, I felt deeply depressed. After a few meetings with my coach, I decided to transfer.
At that time, a friend I had played with in Turkey was in the transfer portal. Shortly after, she accepted an offer from Northwestern Oklahoma State University. She told the volleyball coach about me and suggested we talk. I remember my first phone call with Jon; his voice was so vibrant and excited. The psychology of being in the transfer portal is unique—it feels like trying to find light in a dark room. During that time, Jon became my light. He told me he wanted to see me on his team and made me an offer. Playing volleyball again with a friend I had known for years? YES!
After summer break, I returned to America—this time to Oklahoma. The three years I spent here have played a massive role in the person I am today. One of my favorite memories is beating Southeastern Oklahoma in five sets two seasons ago.
If I remember correctly, I had an eight-point service run. The first serve was an ace. The second was an ace. The score was neck-and-neck. Only one thing was on my mind: winning. Hearing the “Aj, Aj, Aj” cheers from the stands made me feel like my family, who were thousands of miles away, was right there with me.
Feeling supported during such a high-stress match gives you an energy you didn’t know you had. I reached my final serve with the score at 13-14. I took a deep breath, performed my service ritual, sent the ball over… and ace. The entire crowd went wild. I didn’t know which teammate to run to first. It was a crucial match for us, and we won. Accomplishing that with the support of our school was a unique feeling.
I don’t know how three years passed so quickly. I only know that throughout this process, I made wonderful friends, learned that nothing is the end of the world, discovered the importance of human relationships, and learned never to give up. After our season ended, I had to make a very difficult decision to transfer again.
Sometimes, no matter how much it hurts, you have to decide what is best for yourself. After about a month in the portal, I accepted an offer from Prairie View A&M University. Returning to the D1 level is exciting, but for me, “change” is always scary.
I don’t know what awaits me in this next chapter. I recently turned 23; while one part of me says, “Woah, you’re late to life,” the other part says, “You’re still in your 20s and you have the right to play the sport you love for one more year—cherish it.” And this time, that is exactly what I am going to do.
I know that saying goodbye is sad, but this decision is for my future happiness. In the meantime, I want to clear up some rumors: if you saw me on campus with a cold expression, please know I don’t hate my life or look at you with malice. I simply have a typical Turkish “resting face.” Also, for the record, Turks do not speak Arabic! Turkey is a beautiful country known for its vacation spots; I highly recommend grabbing your passport and taking a trip there!
I could write so much more but for my time here, I am beyond grateful. Not everyone finds a home across the world.
I want to give a special thank you to Mrs. Armstrong, who never withheld her help. I learned so much from you and it is thanks to you that I am able to write this piece today. I hope I have left behind a few memories that will be remembered fondly.
Thank you NWOSU… Your AJ is out, all love.
RIDE RANGERS RIDE #11