For as long as we can all remember, our parents have always pointed out to us that education was the key to success. Nothing else. But when we’re young, you find interest in other things and education seems to get in the way of it; so then you start to put it off. You don’t tell yourself that it is your responsibility to do this and go through it with a sense of dignity. Because in the end it is your education and not anybody else’s. Eventually, when that backfires because of your parents’ disappointment in you for not living up to their expectations as a perfect student, it creates a rift in your relationship with them and the people they compare you to. For me it has always been my little sister, how well she always did in school, got better grades than me, everything related to education; she did better than me. It’s an incredibly difficult situation. It takes a certain toll on anger and frustration when you notice how you are the older one yet she is the one they go to when they need help connecting to the wifi to arrange our flight for the vacation. Now, this is what my life consisted of from elementary school all the way to highschool. One night this past summer, I was in bed laying down and I thought to myself; why was this always the case? The simple answer is education. My sister did what I should have done years ago. She disciplined herself at such a young age and took her education with a sense of dignity; responsibility. And when she was performing well, that led to others taking her seriously and respecting her. Me on the other hand being lazy and procrastinating all the time gave me a bad image; I’ve never even noticed that to be the case!
Nevertheless, going into the final year of highschool was a relief, I decided to be better than my sister’s school during my years as a freshman through junior. Especially juniors knowing that was what colleges were looking at. I ended up getting high 90s all over. I made an objective to get good grades and put that first above anything else. However, as I stated before, I was about to finish highschool in a year. This is where the story really starts. All gone downhill. I noticed how my schedule was much shorter than my previous year. I would get in at 7 and would leave at 12. I couldn’t haven’t been happier. I had only 5 classes and I would go home. English, Government, Business, and Statistics. During the start of the first semester, I was only getting a lot of work from the business and math class I was taking. I hated going to that class, I had no one I was close with and the homework was long, hard, and boring. For math was the opposite, I had friends all over that classroom. However, that was not why it was hard for me. Math has always been hard for me, I know that all I need to do is just listen because it’s all in front of me. I believe this has to do with me being lazy. I would not even take the notes in class, I would just take photos of the slides and tell myself I would write down later, I wouldn’t even get to that. I was a mess. Because I had such a short schedule, I decided to join as many sports as possible, soccer, swimming, and tennis. Now remember the business elective? I didn’t have time to get to practice because I was doing all the homework for the class. I didn’t feel like I needed to have this class anymore because it was my last year of college, I didn’t need all of this pressure. I ended up dropping the class at the end of the first semester. I was much happier because that took off one less class that I have to worry about.
Fast Forward to the second semester, I was doing much better in math because I could focus on it more. I ended up getting a 73 average for the first marking period of the second semester. I was pleased with it because I didn’t take anything seriously, as long as I passed, right? That was my motto. However, for the second semester I was just focusing on my school teams. All I put into my school work was half my effort, I totally forgot my objective. I remember being in math and the end of the second semester and the teacher was having a one on one meeting with students in order to discuss their grades. I checked my grade and saw that it was a 55, I told myself that she will bump it up to a 65 like they all do.I didn’t go up to here because of this. Instead, I was talking with one of my friends and we were being a little loud and she called me over. “SAID! Come here.” I could sense by the tone she was agitated. “Have you taken a look at your grade?” Knowingly, I did and knew what it was, I didn’t want to sound how I felt, knowing I had this grade and I wasn’t concerned. With a grin and an attempted look of confusion, “No” Iied. “Ok, so you don’t care?” I didn’t know what to say at this point,I just stood there looking down at my feet as I was too ashamed to look her in the eye. “Ok” she said, waving her hand as a sign of dismissal. I walked back to my chair, pretending like my heart hadn’t just sunked to the bottom of my stomach. Report cards came next week, I was out of the house headed toward my friends house to hangout. I was waiting for the bus and I had my headphones in and I just argued with my mother to convince her to let me go out. I did everything, telling her it’s the last year, everything is going alright. I didn’t want anyone to disturb me. Then she called. I was mad because I didn’t know what she could’ve possibly wanted from me. I just left the house! “What?!” I say frustradly. “You got a letter from school, it says you got a 55 and you’re going to summer school” she said in a concerned manner. I had frozen right there on the bus seat. I didn’t know what to say. She didn’t bump my grade up. She kept it at a 55. I tried to downplay it by saying, “I will talk with her tomorrow.” Looking back, I still can’t believe I didn’t care, I still wanted to go and play with my friends. If it weren’t for my mom who swore I would get back home, I would have left instead of fixing the problem. On my way back home, I even get angry at the teacher, as if it were her fault. I recall the conversation I had with her in class, that’s probably why she gave me this grade. She saw that I didn’t care and didn’t bother trying to save me. This was where I finally came around to admitting it was my fault. I thought this was it, I was doomed.
Nevertheless, I calculated that I needed a 65-70 exactly to be able to pass. I was doing so bad in that class, I lost all hope of passing. Especially as we were headed towards the end of the year, it was when the seniors had the prom and graduation. Especially graduation, I couldn’t attend all of these senior activities. That night I got the letter. I noticed that I had reached the bottom, there was no more wiggle room. I could feel it, smell it, taste the feeling of failure. I was so sad that I had failed not just me but my family. If I truly did fail I could have no summer vacation, I applied for a job in the summer. I couldn’t do that if I had to go to summer school. This was the wake up call I needed. I wanted to do those things and if I failed I wouldn’t only be behind education but in my life. For the whole third marking period, I had put my whole life on pause. I ghosted everybody, I didn’t go out like I used to, I made sure I prayed every night that God would help me pass. Eventually, over the course of the marking period, we had 2 exams, I managed to get 90s on both of them. As well as all the homework. I added everything up, I couldn’t help myself. I estimated that with these grades so far, I would get a 75 and that was more than I needed so I passed. I couldn’t believe how I did it. I was so proud of myself for being able to come back from such a low point. During this time, I realized how I have taken advantage of my education, while kids all around the world stick their necks out for it. I was saddened with my behavior. At the end, I ended up getting a 70 at the end of the marking period. I got so scared for a second because it wasn’t the 75 I expected.