Sophia C., class of 2028
It's 10:55, I’m sitting on my bed listening to “I hate it here” By Taylor Swift, writing this, when I have a pink sticky note staring at me with my missing assignments on it. I’m testing my limits all the time. I know the amount of work I have is easy, I know I can wait until the last minute to do it. And so I do that. I listen to music at 10:59 knowing I should be doing something productive. But I don’t. I’m so bad at doing things on time—wait no. I’m so bad at wanting to do things on time. My mom is on my caboose about making sure my things are done. So is my grandma. My dad isn’t as worried, he just cares that my grades are good. But every day while driving to school my grandma asks some questions about if my grades are good, if I've done my work, or something like that. I swear every day it's:
“Did you finish your homework?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have any tests?”
“Sometime this week.” That reminds me I do have a test tomorrow morning….good thing it's on Greek Mythology and I was a Hercules and Percy Jackson kid.
In other words, my morning car rides are repetitive. Don’t get me wrong, I love talking with my grandma. She’s the nicest, most hilarious lady ever. But does she have to ask me about school all the time? I would rather talk about anything else rather than the place I’m forced to go to.
I test the limits by complaining about school, and my oh-so-hard life, but still getting everything done. I absolutely hate waking up early, getting ready for another day of talking to people in classes, then sitting in a corner during lunch, playing solitaire on my phone until the bell rings and I can get dressed for P.E.
Why not sit with people you talk to during class? Because they are hanging out with friends, and I hate feeling like an outsider. I came to this school because my parents said it was better. It’s not.
Sure the classrooms are nicer, the bathroom doors don’t have crude profanities and anatomy drawings on the stall door, the school has an updated library with books from the last 5 years, and the air conditioning actually works. But that doesn’t make it better.
If I stayed in my old district with all my friends, I would’ve had fun, I would’ve been laughing with my girls, instead of sitting at lunch alone with my earbuds blasting “The Prophecy” By Taylor Swift.
And someone is gonna say ‘You're only a month into your freshman year, you'll turn it around.’ That someone would be my mother because I’ve had this conversation with her about once a week since the bell rang at 3:30 on the first day. I don’t think it will.
But, I’m trying. I’m going to test the limits by sending this work, just to see what happens. It's now 11:45, my cat just jumped on me indicating it's time to stop. Good night.
My name is Sophia Chavez, I'm a freshman who came from La Puente. The inspiration for my interpretation was literally as I was trying to sleep this came to mind and putting on earbuds to help. I solely wanted to come to this school because of its writing classes, but doing that meant being limited to companionship and socialization. I try not to think too much about what I wrote because it freaks me out, but that's all, thanks!