To write: to live

It isn't so much that I have something wonderful to say today, but since I made a goal to blog at least once a month, and it's January 31st, I must write something. Perhaps instead of making up something incredible interesting, I shall just post some of the writing I have done in the past. This will most likely alienate you completely from all my 'academic' writing, but maybe it will also give you a sense of relief that my blogs don't drag on as long as my papers. And since the only people to read these papers have been my professors, you are just lucky (depending on your interpretation of the word luck).

Turns out, I can only give you access to one, but it's long enough to dissuade all but the determined.

Crossing Borders: Cultural and Linguistic Passages

Yah, I didn't think you had time to read 65 pages either. So here is a better piece of writing, although significantly older. Here is my second published piece, "Being Smart". I wrote it when I was a lowly sophomore in high school, but hey, it got me several jobs in college as a writing tutor. For the new year, read some grand writing from almost ten years ago.

            I remember the first time I felt the thrill of achievement.  It was in first grade when my class would have races to see who could do their math addition sheet the fastest; the winner would receive a pencil.  I had plenty of pencils, but the prize was not why I rushed through and finished first.  It was the comment that Mrs. Wadman would present to me, “You’re so smart.”  Then the class would agree, “Wow, you are smart,” and so it began, my race in life to be the most intelligent.  If I ever ended up being bad at sports or didn’t gain favor by looking attractive there would always be, “at least she’s smart,” to make me feel better.

            I didn’t realize the mess I had gotten myself into.  My foolish first-grade-self strove to be the brightest, best student.  By the time I realized being the “smart” one wasn’t the most enjoyable place to be, I was stuck.  As seventh grade rolled around I was becoming desperate.  My reputation seemed to be etched in granite, and to make it worse, I was still getting exceptional grades.
            There are downsides to being a good student.  First, it is expected that you get a perfect score on every test, and if you happen to miss one more point than the person sitting next to you-beware!  This phrase became a common one to my ears; “Hey, look, I got a higher score than Amber! I’m smarter than you are…” One would think that after a few tests people would realize they were smarter than me and stop bothering me, but they never did.
            Then there is the way that people always bring their homework to you and expect help. Even if I don’t understand the concept, people insist I give my “expert” advice.  So, I give in, I help them with the assignment the best I can.  I warn them that it isn’t my fault if they get a bad score because I don’t know how to do it.  A week later I will start getting the cold shoulder.  Come to find out, I really didn’t know what I was talking about and they’d gotten a bad grade.  Of course, I am to blame.  Instead of believing that I was clueless, they are staunch in their opinion that I had led them astray on purpose so that I could have the best grade.
            No matter how hard I have tried I cannot get rid of the reputation of being a perfect student.  My teachers don’t even believe that I am sometimes just plain irresponsible.  Literally every time I would skip an assignment in Junior High it would magically be due the next day.  I would come to class, the teacher would ask who was prepared, see I was not prepared, and decide the entire class needed another day to finish the assignment.
            In my sophomore year I finally did it; I got my first A- ever.  I missed an A by approximately ten points.  Was I upset? No way!  Now when people ask if I have a perfect 4.0 I can answer honestly “no.”  I just fail to mention I have a 3.994. 
            To those who know me well they realize that behind that shell of good student I am the same as everyone else.  I have a life besides doing homework.  I don’t sit at home relishing every math problem and look forward to the next biology test with glee.  I don’t dream of learning a new conjugation of the word estudiar, so I can tell people I love to study in Spanish. 
            I could stop doing homework now, just quit one day, start failing all my tests, and sleeping during class. I think it would make my parents have an aneurysm though. It wouldn’t really make my reputation better either.  People would just whisper about how I was once a genius, but couldn’t take the pressure and now I’ve lost my mind.       
            How grateful I am for friends that accept me even though I am not able to help them with their physics of tell them the capital of Myanmar.  It gives me comfort when they laugh as someone asks me for help on an assignment. For my friends know I am truly just an average person.
            I guess that there is no escaping my title as a smart person.  I will spend the rest of my high school life trying to persuade people that I don’t know the secret of the universe or even what the answers on the math assignment are.  Maybe eventually people will really believe that I am a normal person. Now please excuse me while I find the equation for cold fusion.