Being born and raised in Ghana, a country where education is not as accessible or guaranteed for everyone, I always felt privileged. My parents would often put pressure on me and my siblings to study hard, do well in school so that we can become something great later on in life. My Dad worked Hard as a nurse and made sure my siblings and I all went to a private school because he wanted to make sure we got the best education possible. As a young child I loved learning and the excitement I got when I was able to learn or understand something difficult drove me to constantly do better and want to learn even more. I was always at the top of my class in Ghana. I was always raising my hand to answer and ask questions and I was the student that other students came to when they needed help understanding what was thought in class. I loved the feeling and praise I received from my parents when I brought home my final exams and only having 85’s and aboves in all my subjects. “My genius” my mother would often say, I acted like i didn’t like when she called me that but truth be told I loved that name. It made me feel like I was seen and that all my hard work and efforts were not going to waste. When I moved to the US everything changed.
It was my first day of school in America. I was so excited to not only be going to school for the first time in America but also because this was my first day in 5th Grade. I woke up extra early to select which clothes I would wear and what hairstyle to do because I wanted to make a first good impression. I was already about a month and a week behind because the school year started early September and I arrived in the US in the middle of October. I was scared that I would be behind and it would be extremely hard to catch up , I later came to the hard realisation that I was right, catching up wasn’t going to be easy. On my first day I was escorted to class by my homeroom teacher Miss Meany which is ironic because she was actually one of the nicest and most caring teachers I have ever had. When I walked into the classroom for the first time I couldn’t help but admire the room. My homeroom was painted green and white. There were Halloween decorations all over the classroom because it was almost halloween. The student desks were positioned in groups of 4. The teacher’s desk was at the corner of the classroom and the white board was in front. Although I had hoped that it wouldn’t be so hard for me to catch up, I was wrong. I went from learning “Religious and moral education” which was my history class in Ghana to learning about lewis and clark and the westward expansion. I Had absolutely no idea what was going on. I knew nothing about US history, only that Barack Obama was president at the time. I also knew that I would have to work twice as hard as everyone else if I wanted to catch up.
About two months into the school year my school had reached out to my mom and asked her to have me evaluated for learning disabilities. I was really behind compared to the other students, I never spoke in class, never spoke at all to anyone, I just really kept to myself so they assumed there was something wrong with me. My mom refused to have me tested because she knew there was nothing wrong with me and I was perfectly fine, I was just having a hard time adjusting to my new home away from home. Since I would often have a hard time with the homework, everyday when I got home my mom would tutor me and help me with my homework. I would often go to the library with my older sister and spend hours there studying and I would also often go to after school tutoring or 1 on 1 sessions with my teachers. Eventually I started to improve and my teachers began to notice it too.
“She will never graduate, she’s not smart enough”For a second I believed those words, sitting there by the corner of the room looking out the window watching as the cars passed by I overheard someone talking about me. It was almost time for my 5th grade graduation, my homeroom teacher Ms.Meany was handing out graduation caps and gowns to everyone in the class but me. I hadn’t received mine yet because I came later during the year when school had already started and all those arrangements, sizing and data was collected for everyone but me. I would eventually get my cap and gown but just not the same time as everyone else. A girl sitting a couple of rows down from me whispered to her friend “ she will never graduate, she’s not smart enough”. For a moment I sat still and my heart sunk, tears running down my eyes. I put my head on the table so no one would notice I was crying and I refused to let her see that her words affected me that much. When I first came to the US I had a thick accent, so people immediately knew I came from a foreign country and they would immediately assumed I wasn’t smart or didn’t get a proper education. I was at the top of my class in Ghana and was among the top 5 students in my grade but when I came to the US I was often underestimated. When I spoke they were in shock because they didn’t think I could speak english. When I presented my presentation on Great White sharks to the whole class reading the words so fast and fluently they nearly flew off the pages they were astonished. “Can you believe she just came from Africa less than 3 months ago? Yet she can read and write so well, she’s amazing” my teacher Ms.Meany whispered to another teacher. I felt very offended by this statement but I know she didn’t mean it in a rude way, she was just a little oblivious they all were. But part of me liked that they underestimated me because I wanted to prove them wrong so badly and I did. As I walked down the steps on the day of my graduation in my cap and gown to “Empire state of mind” by Alicia Keys I had the biggest smile on my face. Looking into the crowd and seeing my parents and older sisters and knowing how proud they were of me made it all worth it.
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