Dearest Readers, as a senior, I somewhat arrogantly believe that I have a solid grasp on the high school experience; and with this arrogance I’ve come to the conclusion that I would like to share both my triumphs and mistakes with the masses, for better and for worse, for richer and for poorer, and with much unnecessary pomp and circumstance, in the hopes that the future classes of OPRF may learn from those who came before.
For this first anecdote, I would like to set the scene. It is third period APUSH. I am 15, I am jaded, I most likely didn’t do the reading, and a poster of Eleanor Roosevelt is staring holes through me to impart the timeless wisdom that “no one can make [me] feel inferior without [my] consent.”
I think this poster is stupid. Anyone who has been insecure, or made fun of, or any variant of not seamlessly fitting in with your peers–which has been all of us at one point–knows that there is no controlling that hot and muggy shame that takes root when you’ve made a social misstep at school.
While I will not pretend that I’m on social media enough to understand the full nuances of cyberbullying, the fear of your misstep being immortalized on the internet and being whispered about by people you don’t even know is terrifyingly real. So I propose an amendment to this sentiment: “people can absolutely make you feel inferior without your consent, but if you don’t let them know, then nobody knows.” An emotional receipts or it didn’t happen, if you will.
My best tactic for powering through embarrassment has been public anonymity and the power of doubling down. My closest comfort for class presentations is that no one cares about my presentation or the fact that I’m doing it so if I mess up, it has no effect on my life at large. But if it does, and I am confronted with the fact that I was a disgrace to the very concept of public speaking, a suitable response is, “Yeah, I did mess up. What about it?” I know that “ignore them and they’ll stop” has been a cliche and overfed concept to us, but it does make a difference.
Some adults don’t really grow up, they just get older, so you will go out into the world to have coworkers that are bullies and supervisors that you don’t think are qualified, and you will be expected to get done what you need to get done regardless. You will have to do all you can to achieve your goals with the knowledge that these people are wrong because any opportunity missed from fear of what others think is something that was taken from you.
With these tools I beg you, if you do nothing else with your time in high school, do something that makes you happy, even if it appears supremely uncool. I write and perform poetry. I’m sure some people think this is loser behavior, and knowing some of the things I’ve written, it probably is, to an extent. Because there are recordings, all my blunders will exist forever. And still, it makes me happy, I’ve met some of my dearest friends through Spoken Word, and I would weep for what I would’ve lost if I’d let fear stop me from trying.
Because I am coming up on our word limit, I will take us to our end. Dearest Reader, if you fear I will make an autobiography of this series, I would like to assuage you. While I draw from my own experiences often, I have a variety of topics both niche and wide planned for this year, all with what I hope is your best interest in mind. And while I concede that it’s equal parts empathy and ego that makes me feel the need to share my opinions with you, I’ve been gifted a greenlight and hindsight bias, and so I hope you’ll take this journey with me.
