Watch Me

“You won’t get into college.”
“If you don’t take these classes, you won’t get accepted into the schools you want."

Throughout that ten-second interval, the only words that were embedded into my mind were the first five words of her speech,
You. Won’t. Get. Into. College.”

Mesmerized by her statement, I acted before I could think.
I sold my soul and signed up for classes that I didn’t need.
How could she say that?
How could she say tell me with a straight face that I would not get into college?
Is she allowed to say that?

Bewildered by what I just heard, I walked out with a pounding heart;
my head was swarming with thoughts like bees hungry for honey.

Like a character pulled out of Shakespeare, I lividly walked back into the room.
I stood my ground as she looked at me – confused, concerned, caught off guard.
How dare you tell me that I won’t get into college?
How dare you assume the worst of my future without seeing who I am outside of my academics
Grades and classes do not define me.
A transcript does not define me. The classes
I take do not define me.
I define myself.
I am my own person.
You are just one.
You cannot dictate my life.
You cannot decide my fate by what you what see in black and white.

My veins flow with red, and my hair lushes with dark brown.
My eyes ache from the loss of sleep due to countless hours of studying.
My hands throb from writing pages and pages and pages of notes and assignments.
My back hurts from carrying books on my back like a slave.
For I am a slave of this plantation called school.
And you have whipped me down so hard with the words you have just said two minutes ago,
“You will not get into college.”
Her face was blank and her mouth was open in awe.
I walked out of her room as my footsteps imprinted my last thoughts,
“Watch me get into college.”

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741