Briana Urena

There is always a moment in life where a person absolutely hates school. I can guarantee mostly everyone goes through this stage in life.  According to the 2020 stress in American report, 87% of Gen Z youth in college considers school as a crucial source of stress. Am I surprised by this? nope, not at all. Im actually experiencing this amount os stress at this very moment. But let’s go all the way to the beginning where it all started and how I developed these nasty feelings for school.

It all started when I was going from 1st to 2nd grade. What a time. You can imagine how happy a kid is knowing they are going to the next grade and that’s exactly how I felt as I standed in front of the school building with my mom. It was a beautiful September morning, the sun was shining bright, it was almost hard to see, the leaves were still attached to the trees and kid’s running all around, excited to see their friends for the first time. The smell of grass and Coffee hit my nose and the a slight breeze rustled with my hair high up in a ponytail. I was gripping my mom’s hand, extremely nervous. I could remember breaking down into a nervous sweat and not being able to stay still. I jumped around, still holding on to my mom wondering what this year would be like. Would I make new friends? would I like my new teacher? How would my new classroom look? All these thoughts jumbled through my head as I was finally pulled out of them as I looked at my mom. She was already looking at me. I saw something in her eyes that day I couldn’t depict. Was it sadness or pity I couldn’t really understand. My mom bended down slowly and as we gotten to the same eye level, she told me something I wouldn’t understand until I’m older. “Sometimes in life there are times we need to stay back to improve”. What did she mean? My young self didn’t know at the time but as I was sent off into the big orange building looking behind me, seeing my mom with the same look in her eyes smiling and waving, I had an idea of what she meant. I was praying to god it wasn’t what I think it was.

Ive always had a hard time in school. I remember my young self staring blankly at my homework, all the words on the pages jumbling in head, I just couldn’t get it and that stressed the living hell of of me. Kid’s would sing the abc’s and brag about doing addition and subtraction, I absolutely despised it and felt my first feeling’s of jealousy at a young age. So was I surprised I got held back a grade? yes and no. At the time, all I knew it that I wasn’t with my friends and had the same damn teacher from last year. I felt everyone eyes on me on that first day of school. Was I imaging it? probably yes but it didn’t stop the feelings of anxiety and embarrassment to creep up on me. Tear’s started filling my eyes and this horrible feeling in my stomach started to take place. It felt like something was at war inside my stomach. I heard people’s whispers and saw teacher’s looking at me with so much pity. I could remember sitting in lunch, the big cafeteria loud with people’s voices and teacher’s screaming at their students to eat. Tears were stinging in my eyes begging to come out and my lunch tasted rotten. I was sitting alone feeling absolutely lonely. I heard my name being called and as I looked up behind me I saw my old classmates laughing and pointing at me. That day was the day I realized I absolutely hated school and nothing would change that.

Even as I left the school building, I still couldn’t escape school. I had an intense amount of pressure to do well and that came from my immigrant parents. I can still feel my mother’s disappointment when I couldn’t even recognize the shapes on my homework. We would always sit in our lit dinning room with papers fluttering all over and books scattering on the table. She tried so hard to make me understand the school work and I just couldn’t. I felt as a disappointment at the young ages of 10-12. I truly felt stupid and had no hope. Was I not worthy enough because of my grades? Ive asked myself this question my entire life. Grade after grade I found myself disappointing my parents more and more. All I wanted was there approval and appreciation and the way to get that was by getting good grades. I still remember nervously shifting around on my feet and the same war feeling in my stomach as my dad analyzed my report card. His face was always the same, full of anger. Why did I try my best when it was never enough? That made me hate school even more. It was ruining my relationship with my parents.

As i’ve gotten older I learned that grades don’t define me as a person. Yes, I’ve thought that all my life but as I’ve gotten into college and graduated high school with honor roll, I’ve realized that I’m doing this for me. Not for my mom or my dad, or that girl, or this boy but for me. This my education and I will never live up to there high expectations but that’s ok. As long as I’m happy with what I’m doing I’ll be fine. I can still feel my excitement running through my veins as I got my first 90. I hung it up on my wall and i’ve never felt so proud of myself.  Do I still hate school? Yes of Course! but it’s a hate love relationship that I wouldn’t change for the world. 🙂