When classmates describe me, they say “smart.” According to them, I’m a quiet workaholic who spends all my time doing homework, I’m not “sociable,” and I don’t go “outside.” Of course, those are all more or less true, but everyone concludes that I’m nice enough. So I have that going for me. I’m unsure why people have always assumed that I’m so intelligent. Up until middle school, I was solidly average. Currently, I’m at the top of my class. It wasn’t magic; it was a relentless drive to get better. I asked more questions, and reeled my mind back from daydreams now and then to pay closer attention. The only reason why that happened is because in first grade, I applied to the advanced English classes in my elementary school. And what did I receive? Just a letter in the mail saying that I was too dumb to join the class. Well, it technically said “my IQ was too low to be admitted,” but my IQ was high enough to get what it meant. …show more content…
I’m not naturally gifted at any subject in school, or maybe anything at all, despite what others think. But I’m nothing if not persistent, and I’ve put a ridiculous amount of effort into disproving that letter. This attitude applies throughout my life. In 6th grade, I began drawing. Art, and creative expression as a whole, had always been an interest of mine. And wouldn’t you know, I was terrible. I never enrolled in any art classes past 6th grade. Yet nowadays, I make a large portion of my school’s signs and logos, as well as my personal projects. However, it’s the same as with academics: people assume it came naturally. The dozens of archaic notebooks that I keep in the cabinet beside my bed would beg to differ. How many humanoid creatures with eyes the size of footballs and necks the width of needles lay within? Likely a number much higher than my IQ in first
I had read an essay called, “I Just Wanna Be Average” by Mike Rose. The essay was about Rose revisiting his high school experience. He explains his adventure through school reflecting on his education, learning environment, & behaviors of students/teachers. Also he talks about the motivation or lack thereof in him and his fellow peers reflecting on them just wanting to be average.
I remember Ali saying I just want to be average and it struck a chord within me. Years later, reading Mike Rose’s article made me remember what Ali said and how true it was that all of us, living in different times, just wanted to be average. Walking to geometry class during my sophomore year in high school was definitely a pain. Our new mathematics teacher, Mr. Lee tried teaching us the basics of geometry and pushed us to do well. With daily quizzes and exams, I, along with many other students, felt the pressure increase to do well. With each passing day, Ali and I felt ourselves gasping and drowning deeper and deeper into the hole of despair. Looking at the test scores, I was guaranteed to retake the class the next semester with Ali. Even though my school was hailed as a very good school, I felt like it was not very welcoming. Going back home on the bus, I would hear many other students talk about how they got that A or how that other teacher helped them get a better grade. Maybe, it was just the environment but Ali and I felt that we were being cheated on by the education system. We had both failed the Mr. Lee’s class and had to take another semester of Geometry to our horror and mutual
My great uncle, Alson Skinner Clark, was born in 1876, and he arrived with the first wave of Clarks in 1883. He entered the “professional” art market by the age of nine. He had an uncommon ability to produce drawings for the freehand art class, and his fellow students who were in need of his services were willing to meet his price of fifty cents per drawing. This is a vote for those who believe that some gifted individuals are destined to follow a path for which they have a flare and talent.
Author, Mike Rose, speaks of his early life growing up in a rough area of Los Angeles in “ I just wanna be average”. Rose didn’t enjoy school from almost the beginning and soon found ways to scrap by in class from day to day. This lead to less than stellar grades in most of his classes and him being put into the vocational program during high school. During this time, he began to accept being average which as he referred to as shutting down and pretending to not care even if it meant being unhappy. Soon after this he met a teacher that would provide him with passion to learn again. In contrast, my own childhood and education differed from roses in many ways.
From small stick figures, to cartoon characters, to more realistic anatomy and detailed work. This only happened because of my dedication and constant practice with a pencil and paper. Though I do not consider myself the best artist, I became proud of my growth and motivation that branched out to other aspects of my life. This habit of practicing led me to take challenging courses and pursue other passions, like music. Though music seems a little minor in my life, it runs through the family, and I could never be where I am without the practice time I put in both my passions. The small details I picked up from them have helped me immensely in school. From motivation to not give up and the extra effort to understand the material, I created a process of how to do things, and I found myself grateful for the times where I felt lost, and found my way back. Through art, I found my sense of self and the motivation to excel and challenge myself in everything I
In my group was one person that was extremely smart. He was known as the smartest kid in my class. However, in our group, he was the least productive. He was not able to work with the rest of the group. On the other hand, my friends that have great social intellect seem to always be happy.
College Admissions Essay If someone asked me where I am going to be in ten years, this would be my answer. I have a great, high-paying job, and beautiful wife and family, and a nice sports car parked in front of my lovely house. When I look into the future, I see myself being successful and happy. Even though I always pictured myself this way, I never worried too much about how I would get there.
I’m currently in eleventh grade with an average of 86 and always hoping to improve it. I consistently try my hardest in my academics
During my early education, meaning elementary school and middle school, I was a very average student. I gave an average amount of effort to my grades, and I received above average results. This did not bother me, until the end of my 8th-grade year. At this point in the year, I was filling out what classes I desired to take the following year, my freshman year. I realized that from this point forward, I had to take my education much more serious, in order to get accepted to whichever college I desired. therefore, when planning my classes, I decided to challenge myself more than I ever have in the past, and take multiple honors courses. I assumed because of my grades, that I had what it took to be an honors-level student, but I was very wrong. One teacher, Mrs. Johnson, made me realize the kind of effort, time and energy needed to be devoted to my education.
Public school made me feel like a small and harmless individual, ranked somewhere in the middle relative to other students. On the standardized tests, I always did well on the verbal section but I had trouble with the math section. My mediocrity in mathematics cursed my chances of becoming the perfect well-balanced student that the system was looking for. I was restrained by grades because I thought that they were some profound measure of my life granted to me by the system. Of course, it is natural for an individual to have strengths and weaknesses, but the bulk of my daily life spent in that institution often left me with that feeling that I was average. Instead of being empowered by the school system, I felt a sense of helplessness to the problems of the world. How can I possibly change the world with my grade point average?
Lots of people call me dumb. The definition of dumb”, according to Dictionary.com is " lacking intelligence or good judgment; stupid;dull-witted”.. But that's not me. They call me dumb because I like to make lots of decisions or say something without thinking it through,. Or I don't understand something right away in class, or blurt out the answer. People talk and they talk a lot and rumors spread and rumors are never good, because even the good ones let people down. I do a lot of things that are dumb or try to be funny and end up looking dumb. Lots of people think I'm dumb because I can't focus in class and drift off because of my ADHD, but I try to do better I can. I know I didn't do the best in school or didn't make the best decisions during
When I am in school people think I am stupid by the way I act. I guess people think because I am a class clown that I am not smart. I have always been on top of my grades since I was in elementary. My mom stays on top of me as well. She pushes me to do better every day.
Painting is a process. When I paint, there comes a time in every piece where I take a step back, assess my work, and feel the sudden urge to chuck it into the nearest dumpster and scrap the idea entirely. More often than not, however, that canvas will be abandoned and left to sit untouched like a foreclosed house across the street- vacant, staring, and waiting. Artwork with stories like this serve as a resonant metaphor for my high school career, seen as the “scrapping” phase dominated my sophomore year. I resented going to school, mostly because the atmosphere among students was not unlike newly hatched sea turtles scrambling across a beach towards the ocean: competition is ingrained their DNA, and only the strongest survive.
As a teenager I was an avid reader and excelled academically until I was in the ninth grade when I conceded to peer pressure and took a turn for the worse. I became lackadaisical and nonchalant, and little by grades fell. When I took my mid-term examinations in the ninth grade my report card was so poor that my mother had to be called in to collect it and have a parent-teacher session to discuss
Why is it that most people imagine someone intelligent as being good at math or being good in school in general? When looking at a lengthy equation someone else has solved one must say, “Gosh, he is smart." If someone gets all the answers to the history quiz correct one might automatically think the same. Although many people view a student that makes great grades at school as being intelligent, people should know that there is more than one type of intelligence out there that allows human beings to be ingenious not only in mathematics, but also to have extreme talent with music and the arts; those who find it easy to understand themselves, other individuals, and their surroundings are intelligent; and other people that are just simply good at pondering are just as smart.