Personal Narrative: My Education In Middle School

Over two years ago I was a naive, hopeful student ready to enter middle school. As I was going to be with my friends, the ones I’ve known since kindergarten, it was an exciting point in my life. My education felt like it would be the same as it had always been, easy, and I would fly through it quickly. People asked me what my plans for 7th grade year were, and I always replied with “I’m going to Steller!”, with the kind of enthusiasm you expect from someone so confident. Optimism was uncomplicated when I knew there were no challenges ahead.

“Your ignite teacher says you qualify for the highly gifted program! This is great news True,” my parents yelled with pride as I came home from school.

“I’m going to Steller right,” I responded to them

nervously, I was positive they were going to push towards Romig.

A sad look came across both their faces. They wanted different things for me, and I wasn’t sure why, and subtly nodding, my parents left the room, giving no reassurance whatsoever.

Going through school with friends was what made it engaging.

Because I got into this program, I went to Romig instead of Steller, isolated from all the people I knew. I went to the eggshell white prison that all these authorities said had the leading education in Anchorage. How could this education be ideal? The wide hallways that echoed my footsteps were a huge shift from my old school’s inviting powder blue carpets. Reeking of poor hygiene, this continued to be something I didn't look forward to taking part in, and it certainly wasn't going to be entertaining. Students were aggressive, as if each one I came across was ready to fight. The endless gazes made me self conscious, unconfident; a feeling I thought I was immune to. Being in a school that size made me feel like a number in a system, and my individuality was lost. Aquarian Charter School was so isolated, so peaceful, to the point where everyone felt exceptional. Unfortunately, Romig left me with a dreary sense that I was indistinct from everybody else.

The days were supposed to go by fast, but they were slow, and got slower. My new teacher were nice, but with the difference in their words I became quiet. I was jealous of the wisdom and knowledge my dominant figures carried, intimidated. Speaking in class was no longer an occurrence, but a personal goal. Naturally was how it happened before, and it made me continue dreaming of attending Steller. Avoiding challenge was how I'd get through it. Challenges are frightful,

why purposefully encounter them?

In my experience so far I’ve gained many acquaintances, but I’m not sure if I’m ready to call them friends yet. As if they’d already been exposed to the filtered, controlled environment of this school, none of the actions they displayed showed any shock. A kid could scream the most politically incorrect, nasty words and it wouldn’t phase them. Of course, most of my peers came from public elementary schools, but I didn’t know that could deem them senseless.

With time, I began to see the effects of being quarantined into a school that made sure no student’s mind was tainted even in the slightest. Sure, many of us had Internet; no child is immune to this type of exposure, but it was still traumatizing. The real world, this was it. All my classmates expected the work ahead of them, while it hit me hard, as if someone was slapping me in the face.

As my grades started to fall, my parents were shocked.

“If you get a B you will suffer consequences,” they said, with enough strictness to imply I had done something wrong.

“I can't keep up, the stuff I'm learning is hard,” I said admittedly.

These conversations happened often once I entered middle school. Constant discipline started, and grades stopped going unnoticed because they were no longer filled with those reassuring A’s. I never had to pay attention to effort. I became less engrossed with my education due to sports, and time management was a skill I had yet to learn. Towards the end of the quarter, I began to see 100% as impossible rather than the standard. Making it through with the crisp 4.0 GPA, that actually seemed to really matter now, stress was a new feeling to me. Sleep became necessary to think at the level I was expected to, and I experienced the pain of procrastination. In the midst of it all, I reached out to my parents.

“I know my grades are good, but that doesn’t mean I’m not struggling with all that’s underneath my belt,” I pleaded.

And when I expected wise words, they only said “You have to do this because it’s important for your future, don’t be lazy and quit,” my mother said in that same tame voice I’d become numb

to.

After hearing that, I was confused. It wouldn’t be lazy for me to quit because it would just be taming my stress. Being constantly challenged could eventually make me burn out, at least that’s what everyone had incessantly repeated. Somehow, the second semester was even more exhausting than the last. The high expectations remained, as I continued to struggle. My friends seemed to breeze through it so effortlessly. Hours I’d put into an assignment were minutes for them, and it made me start to feel stupid. Eventually I approached my parents again, hoping that my whiny words would do something for me this time.

“It’s too hard. I’m not being lazy I can’t do this. I can’t take the work they give me, I’m too dumb,” the self-pity in my voice stood out so much anyone hearing me would know that’s exactly what it was.

This time around my parents looked worried. It was a different kind of worried than what I was used to.

“True, I’m sorry to tell you so bluntly, but you’re probably feeling this way because you’re finally being paired with kids your level. I know there’s more expected from you, but that’s how it should be. You need to be challenged to learn at your full potential,” my mother said gently, with my father agreeing intently.

“I don’t like being challenged, I like things easy,” I almost shouted.

“But you won’t be learning as much. You won’t be as successful as you dream of being.”

I would’ve never known I’d have those words ingrained in my mind even now. Although they were cheesy, stereotypical words, they were what I needed to realize the importance of being in this program.

The last few months of the year stared at me with a testing gaze, and this time around, these months went by fast. I didn’t complain and protest at my work, I conquered it. I did more than conquer it. Using my highlighter so much it dried out and left those streaky neon marks on my close reads. Actually getting extra credit on the assignments that offered it. I stopped being lazy and actually tried. It was towards the end of that school year that I realized the work wasn’t too difficult, I just didn’t put in the effort. All of my friends were just as intelligent as I was. Once my brain was finally drawn towards the education I began to get more from it. You’re not really learning if you’re not working to your full potential.

Looking back on this event it seems satirical. I was terrified of learning, but now,