Dear Reader,
I hope this letter finds you in a state of exhilarating mediocrity. Most people don’t plan on being mediocre, at least in the long run—but arguably, there’s nothing wrong with being only half-decent at most things. I bet you’ve never actually mastered most of the skills you’ve learned over the years, whether that be water coloring, calculus, or Nordic skiing. Instead, you gave yourself the chance to try your hand at something new and get a few laughs at your own clumsiness. You got to spend a nice afternoon with friends or a block strengthening some atrophied part of your brain. You were able to broaden your experience of the human condition and develop a little bit of precious humility.
We cannot undervalue the beauty of an accidental water splotch on a painting, a totally-wrong-but-good-try math proof, or a glorious, shrieking tumble down a ski slope. We are simply trying, getting better slowly, content to be one of many other people who are simply just trying.
In this issue, we celebrate the vast array of human mediocrity. Joshua Kalenga roots for the underdog teams in the professional soccer world, who are probably more laid back and having more fun anyway. Georgia Grellier recalls her experience teaching young girls how to be mediocre divers, and how this gave them the invaluable gift of courage—being the best was never the goal. Courtney Knerr finds that the Block Plan is no better than the pedestrian semester plan that everyone else uses, but rather just has a different set of pros and cons to contend with. In the face of eviction, Mar Wilson longs for the stability of the kind of mediocre normalcy that so many take for granted. S. Verda, an inmate at El Paso prison, writes the first installment of his short story, which will be published throughout the next several issues of Cipher. He offers a surreal picture of resisting the carnivorous monster of total apathy and explores how the mediocrity of everyday life can feel confining, but in the end, it’s worth fighting for.
Here’s to the Jack of all trades, master of none. The appreciation of things not far from the ordinary, the rough-hewn personality not yet squashed in the quest for perfection. Here’s to a planet of eight billion’s lopsided pottery and B- math tests, burnt chocolate chip cookies and scuffed-up sneakers. To be mediocre is to be human, and that’s something all of us can relate to.
We all have our lofty childhood dreams of Olympic medals, revolutionary discoveries, or innumerable riches. Some of us will rise to achieve them, armed with admirable determination and probably a touch of luck or raw talent. But on your way to the top, if that’s where you want to go, don’t forget to cherish that beautiful place of mediocrity. It’s a place of growth and unimaginable potential where you still have people to look up to and you’re still allowed to make mistakes.
Unexceptionally yours,
Hannah Stoll and the rest of the Cipher staff
Mediocre Issue | November 2019