i want to make smart
choices in my life.
Apparently, my parents won't hate me if I fail algebra 2.
They told me so.
They literally sat me down and said, "it's okay if you fail algebra 2, honey".
But want to know a secret?
I don't believe it.
They stopped paying for my art classes, and they're scheduling more tutors for math than I can handle.
I literally have three math tutors, two study groups, and I have mandatory friday cards and teacher meetings.
It's not that I'm ungrateful.
I appreciate the motions they've taken to help me pass math.
But at the same time, I feel like it's not worth the fight.
I feel like it's a lost cause.
It seems like no matter how much extra time I spend doing the mixed reviews and extra practice problems, I end up failing.
I feel like I'm destined to fail.
I'm surprisingly not as hung up on failing a class as you would think.
I learned a long time ago that you can only do your best.
And sometimes your best isn't good enough.
But that's not the problem.
Failing algebra 2, I mean.
The problem is that I spend all this time trying to understand it, trying to pass a single test, JUST ONE, and I end up getting behind in my portfolio.
Is it worth putting the paintbrushes away for a while to get my grade up?
I'm not so sure.
If there's hardly even a chance of me getting a C, then wouldn't it be more time efficient and valuable for me to turn my attention to art?
Everyday I'm either working on math, or regretting spending time on math.
Everyday is the same shade of gray.
And the time I do get to spend painting, I draw blanks.
My paintings are lifeless.
But, I realized something this year.
I realized that I'm lucky - I knew a long time ago what I anticipated to be in the future.
I never had trouble answering the question, "What do you want to be when you grow up?"
I always knew.
I want to be an artist.
I want to be a writer.
I want to be a musician.
I want to be a mom.
I want to be a dreamer.
I want to be successful.
I want to love and be loved.
And the list goes on.
I always knew what I wanted to be, what I wanted to do.
So the question is, why can't I pursue it?
I know I could go somewhere - everyone has that inner potential.
But I want to stop talking about dreams, like everyone else, and go out into the world and fulfill them.
I want to start sending in articles to newspapers again.
I want to participate in those reflection-like contests again.
I want to carry my watercolors with me, and paint spontaneously again.
I just want to do what makes me happy.
I thought that's what our parents told us from the start.
Teachers, and adults in general.
"As long as you're happy, we'll support you."
So is that a meaningful sentiment?
Or are those just empty words?
Because I'm tired of people not meaning what they say.
There's a real lack of sincerity in the world.
If you don't mean it, you might as well tell me what you really mean.
"We tell you you can do anything you want, but we're secretly counting on you to realize your creativity will fail you. You'll eventually become a realist and get a shitty 9-5 desk job like the rest of us. Have a nice life. Hopefully your God-awful grades will get you into a community college".
But you know what?
I'm going to pursue this so-called American dream if it kills me.
So suck it.
Oh yeah.
And C.S. Lewis failed math.
And Lewis is amazing.
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