#eslr

[redreachhimalaya]

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[night-of-no-stars]

i'M PROOFREAdING MY CONTROVERSIAL ISSUE ESLR ON TRANSGENDERS FOR MY FINAL DRAFT AND THE PEER EDITING ANNOTATIONS ARE SO *STUPID* I CAN'T EVEN

[flourish-andblotts]

An Education

Knowledge is both the quality that is impossible to measure and the quality that is measured the most. From the ripe age of about four, every step in life is typically accompanied by a test of some sort. After 12-13 years of such an “education”, I have trouble attributing to what or whom I owe my thanks. Why am I who I am today? When did I learn how to think? To see beneath the surface? How did I see reality, while wrapped up in an artificial life?

By far, the years of my life that affected my so-called self discovery have been the last four: high school. I entered high school as a naïve, innocent, somewhat timid tween looking to conform and gain some superficial acceptance from peers I didn’t fully respect. In my eyes, I’ve come a long way. I’m not so disillusioned: to an extent, I am still naïve. I still believe myself to be fairly innocent. In this moment of forced nostalgia, I can’t honestly say I can look back and think of a specific class that changed me. By no means did I grow from sitting in a class, reading Shakespeare. Perhaps the need to meet requirements for insight (specifically in English class) did set a spark—forced me to think beyond appearances, the obvious, and the literal. Perhaps I’ve just gotten better at BS-ing, to the point where I believe it myself. Then again, at that point, is it still BS? The degree to which the classes themselves inspired my growth is debatable, but the classroom was undeniably where my growing persona thrived and manifested itself. I remember when I became fiercely opinionated. It was sophomore year, and I had a fight to pick with the Twilight Saga. After I realized it was hate born out of ignorance (I had only hated it because it stole Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix’s original theatric release date—I had no idea what Twilight was), I read the Twilight books and was finally able to justify my hate. Most of my English assignments were secretly scathing reviews or criticisms of Twilight and of mindless teen phenomena, which helped me develop my “voice” in writing. Ever since then, I’ve prided myself in having an educated opinion and in being able to enjoy a healthy debate. It was an unexpected lesson, but at the same time, I had no real expectations of what I would learn beyond the basic mathematics and facts memorized by rote required for class.

I don’t give enough credit to the education system; maybe it has benefitted me far more than I realize. My personal philosophy tells me otherwise. Anything I achieved, I did myself or did for myself. After all, you can bring a horse to water but you can’t force it to drink. So where do I fit in this metaphor? A little learning is a dangerous thing; Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian Spring: There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain, and drinking largely sobers us again. While my parents were certainly the reason I pushed myself academically when I was younger, as I grew older I began to value such challenge for my own benefit or satisfaction. My parents wanted (and still do) want everything for me; I had to learn how to want everything, be what I wanted, on my own. There weren’t any questions that a teacher could have asked that could have directly sparked me to take initiative; no lesson to make me care more; no project to change me or my ways (I’ve always been stubborn).

It’s appropriate at this time, the end of high school and the arrival of yearbooks, to announce my personal “Senior Superlatives” of things I’ve learned. Most valuable: the ability to interpret and think critically. I don’t know how this came to be; it’s impossible to name one source, but I know that this will be endlessly valuable to me for the rest of my life. Most interesting: how history truly does affect modern life and politics today. History was always a subject I moaned and groaned about, but it’s become a truly interesting hobby for me to find out the back story on events or reasons why life is the way it is: how it changed and what changed it. Most surprising: my grit. I always thought myself as average: socially, intellectually, physically, and athletically (probably the only of these categories I saw myself as far below “average”). I’m quite proud of what I have achieved, and confident I could have done even more, had I cared enough to put out the effort.

I don’t barge into new experiences full of questions. For a while, especially in cheer, my motto was “just wing it and hope for the best”. I didn’t have any deep or philosophical questions going into high school—are freshmen even capable of that kind of introspection?! From where I am, emotionally and mentally, seeing how I can change further is a bit hard to imagine but change is inevitable and I can only hope for the best. There are some superficial questions bouncing around: who will I keep in touch with? Will we still be close? How will everyone else change in college?

After my first year of high school, I knew. As cliché as it sounds, cheer significantly changed me and greatly impacted my high school experience. Melissa Fierro, I will always accredit you for getting me out of my shell. I didn’t show it much to you, and maybe you’ll never know how much you influenced me. I was a quiet, shy, and reserved before I met you. When I started cheer, I was horrible at it and immediately wanted to quit. You gave me something to be passionate about, something to be proud of, something to persevere through. While you were pushing me to my physical limit, you were also pushing me past my mental barriers: half the obstacle is always the perception said obstacle. I’ve kept this philosophy throughout high school, and it’s never led me astray. You were a perfectionist, which I can’t thank you enough for. You showed to me physically what my parents always tried to drill into my head. Don’t accept less than the best… your best, that is. I never understood it fully because I always doubted my full ability. As bad as it sounds, cheer led me to “fake it ‘til you make it” and that course of action ultimately helped me. I did make myself feel somewhat uncomfortable when I acted outgoing, but eventually, I got over my shyness. Nowadays, people think it’s a joke when I say there was ever I day I was a shy person or a quiet person. Melissa, thank you. You’ll always be the best coach and the person who has changed me the most, even if you don’t know about it.

Psychology taught me that at this phase of my life, I’m just ending my “identity crisis”. So who am I? Who do I think I am? WELL. I’m Kim Vo, and I do as I please.