My whole life I have been called a “smart kid.” It started from birth, when my grandma told my parents, “You better watch out, she is going to be one smart kid.” My parents, who are both very educated people with college degrees, agreed with my grandma. But neither of them could be prepared for what exactly my being a smart kid really meant.

My mom was a stay-at-home mom from when I was born until I was around eight. So, she made it her mission to prepare me and my younger sister, who was two years younger than me, for our academic careers. She ran a little school for us. It was full of worksheets, books, and even tests! I remember she even bought a little velcro schoolhouse thing to update us on what we needed to do. I firmly believe that her doing this for me shaped who I am today. Younger me really enjoyed my mom’s tactic for teaching me and my sister. Claire and I (Claire is my sister) ended up growing an extremely strong relationship with each other because of our upbringing.

When I got into elementary school, I faced my first struggle with being called a “smart” kid. I fell behind with reading and other subjects that required me to pay attention. My parents took me to the doctor because they were worried about me falling behind. There, I got diagnosed with ADHD and things changed. People looked at me differently; they didn’t like how I would just be in my own little world. My classmates started talking behind my back and giggled when they saw me mess with random objects. However, I got used to it.

During second grade, my family moved us here to Texas. People started treating me much more differently. I didn’t have as many friends; nobody really wanted to hang out with the weird new girl. I tried to not let it bother me. I focused more on schoolwork and playing with my sister. My elementary school life was not necessarily hard; I never struggled with doing school work and didn’t let my lack of friends get me down.

However, intermediate school, fifth and sixth grade, hit me like a truck. I had so much new work to accomplish and I no longer had much time to mess around with Claire. I started getting more frustrated with my grades and school work. I started getting Bs and Cs, and for once, the people being mean started to get to me. My fellow classmates would talk bad about me behind my back. These two things caused me to pull away from my parents and the friends I did actually have. I no longer felt smart. I honestly felt stupid and dumb. I didn’t accept the help my math teacher offered me in sixth because, “No thanks ma’am. I am doing perfectly fine with your class.”

Middle school came, and things improved. I started opening up to other people and my grades started going back to being all A’s and Bs. I made friends with people other than Claire. Things truly started looking up, but then, of course, COVID happened. It was extremely devastating for me, especially because the lockdown started during Spring Break, five days before my thirteenth birthday. For the next year I was alone in quarantine with Claire. My grades went from A’s and Bs to Bs and Cs. The whole year just made me feel so sad and alone.

Starting high school this year made things a whole lot better. I trusted the teachers and students at my new school, CRCA, which is an early college high school. I felt comfortable enough to ask questions and for help with assignments. Looking back at my life, I have grown as a person for sure. I feel more confident in myself and my abilities as a “smart kid.”

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