The first years of middle school, a lot of new friends came around. They helped me feel welcomed, they helped me feel like I was a puzzle piece that completed the whole puzzle. I was very oblivious to why people, or friends treated me the way they did, it led me to thinking of myself more than I should have put out there. A lot of regret of the actions Iâve had because of those actions and the people I missed experience with. As I made my way through high school, I understood that as people left, I would learn more about them and myself. It made it easier for me to adjust to some things and tolerate others. The hallways of my school were always crowded but it made it easier for me to talk to people in a certain way so I could get along with them, although it was just for that certain moment. The people that stayed, stayed and the people that I broke from allowed me to better myself, slowly but of course, not perfectly. Some in a good and some in a bad way. Some things of course, I donât understand as much as theyâre made out to be, but it all comes with time.
Although I did meet and leave a good amount of people, it led me to notice things more, and care less but in a more reasonable way. I found out that most of my actions reflected a lot of the things that were complicated for me and brought me out to be a bigger person than I was, to other people and to myself, in this case, in the future, which is the current present, and the to be near future for myself. It brings me to understand more about what my parents meant when they told me to do my work and to stop getting distracted. There were times, specifically in my 11th grade year of high school that I sat in my dark, warm room with the computer on to my left and the monitor on right in front of me, my family in the living room, having much more fun than I was. Zoning out and constantly regretting being lazy and procrastinating, telling myself that I would finish the untouched work to my right on the desk. It got to the point where even a shower wasnât on my mind because of how lazy I was. In that moment, I was basically taking everything for granted, and even then, I passed on a whim. The teachers that helped me as much as I could, and my family and friends that tried to motivate me as much as they could. It was a slow understanding that people wanted to see me doing better than I looked.
Some things I do understand, but in a weird way given the idea that people are more different from others and are all different in general. I do know for a fact that overthinking leads me to understand more things that are simple, or quick in a sense that they bring me constant awareness to certain things faster than others. Whether it be a situation with my friends and someone else or going to the grocery store and wondering why nobody else has self-awareness. On a crowded train or bus, I sometimes think, âwhy arenât they taking off their backpacks, isnât it common courtesy?â or as stated, in the grocery store, âwhy are they taking up the whole lane, if thereâs space for other people to move?â In another sense, itâs the friends Iâm always with, and then the students I sed to work around. The focus that some people have when it comes to work or the things they do, it amazes me but its simple just focusing on one thing at a time. My friends, whenever in on the game with them, they constantly switch from topic to topic, making it hard for me to keep up, or they memorize something in a game that we play, it confuses me, but allows me to understand that some people are much different than others, whether it be taking or giving information. Unlike them, its hard for me to stay focused on one thing, being distracted is a constant problem for me, making it hard for me to get some things done, more complicated and long over the simple things. In a way, some of these things bring me to overthink a lot, allowing me to understand a lot in the same way. It allows me to write while thinking outside of the box, or take things more seriously, compared to how I never did before.
Whenever I think of my future, I imagine how I could react or make a difference to some other people that would of course come after me. How to treat my children, or nieces and nephews so they donât become an adult with hate, but making the reasonable options, allowing them to think as much, but not too much to the point it becomes mentally unstable for them. As stated before, some people think and react differently to other people, it can be easier or harder for them to understand that simply put, if they donât do good, or work to their fullest, then they will eventually regret, but if they work too hard then they will eventually start to get too into the habit and remove the relationship wise priorities in their life. Not to spoil them with the gifts that I wasnât given because they might take everything else for granted, but to give it to them because theyâre children, so they wouldnât think too much about the bad or the good. In the end, itâs a sense of not knowing what the person is thinking, making it harder for me to be who I am or act how I should around them, whether they understand or not.
Author: Nicholas J. (Page 2 of 3)
Sitting in my humid dark bedroom, blankly staring at the brightly lit monitor in front of me, I zone out as my friends talk, sitting with me in this game lobby waiting for each other to finish up the zoom meeting we’re supposed to be in. The computer to my left, the teacher talking to us about some homework, I think it’s something about the history homework that’s just under the monitor, untouched with the pen needed for it still in the bag on the back of my chair. My big slouch in the chair makes me more tired, while the sun hitting my messy bed in the other corner of the room, making the room a pleasant, while the broken lightbulb stays dusty and unchanged. It’s somewhere in the middle of the day, probably rush hour. As I zone out, I clearly hear the honking cars and the train across the street from me screeching. The loud music and revving engines here and there. The PS4 is getting heated, the fan sounds just a bit less loud than the cars, but clearly heard over my friends talking about how good they’re doing in their classes.
I’m thinking of what my friends are talking about, and then I snap out of it. I take the black and green headset off and lay it next to the blue bowl. I notice I haven’t left my room since before I got food last night, and it’s almost rush hour. My tank top and my pants surely need to be washed. I can smell a sweaty odor coming from my armpits, my stomach grumbling since I was too lazy to even leave my room this morning. I hear my family on the other side of the door behind me in the living room having a fun time watching some TV, my friends still talking about their grades getting ready to start a game. Slowly spinning my chair clockwise to face the door, I see the two empty gallons bottles of water and the misplaced slides and shoes, the laundry bag to the right of me filled with clothes that need to also be washed. Slowly I zone back out, thinking of how much of a horrible procrastinator and person I am, for sitting in this semi-lit dirty room, constantly missing grades that could easily be done. For having untouched work, horrible hygiene, sleep deprivation from staying up all night for completely no reason, missing out spending time with my family just because I don’t feel like it. I won’t become a senior if I stay like this. My friends will graduate with big smiles and their diploma while I’m just there. Unacceptable. I have to bring it back or I will regret it too much.
Reading both of these education narratives, a couple of “ingredients” I’ve found are that both authors tell a story in first person of their past experiences and express their feelings of that experience. The author Olivarez speaks about his past, about how the experience he had as a child, growing into a teenager lead to him being an adult and creating this narrative for us to read. That includes him explaining his readers the thought process he goes through every time he is pushed through a new experience. He makes sure that we understand the background of America, and how it helped him make a more comfortable, at home place for other people and motivated other people of that same culture to then motivate other people. In Lorde’s narrative, she writes about how she felt during those particular experiences, allowing us as the reader to understand that the story she explained to us made her curious and in the end, angered by the actions of the people around her that felt they should be done to protect her from the reality that she soon found out about. A good place that I can get started with my own education narrative would be whatever experience I’ve had that makes me thing the way that I think now or affects the person that I am today. One question would be if the education narrative is always going to be past tense. There aren’t many things I can bring up that makes me feel or act the way that I do act now.
Recent Comments