"The first thing you can do to change the world," my English teacher said to me, "is to change yourself. You are your world, you are what you perceive."
Change, in all its forms, is unavoidable. We fight it, kick and squirm away, but it marches forward steadily, blind and deaf to our actions and stubborn tenacity. Since we can't control it, true grace can only be found in what we are able to do with ourselves when life throws us a curveball, and we must learn that a lack of change not only portends stagnation, but also goes against the fundamentals of our very existence. In this modern age, when things are packaged and pre-cut for us, we sometimes create melodrama and obstacles where none existed before.
I've often found myself struggling against the grain. During my first year of high school, I was miserable. I disliked looking down the road at the next four years and seeing nothing but waste. There's nothing I dislike more than a waste of time (unless it's a waste of food,) and I couldn't open my mind and embrace new experiences. Whenever anyone told me (in a particular nostalgic tone) that their high school years were "the best" of their life, I felt this cold hand gripping my lungs, and my heart dropped down to around sea level or so. I wanted to be ran over by a drunken farmer on a John Deere tractor that very moment.
The teachers horrified me initially. My favorite to date (in terms of scariness, at least) is my first-year Spanish teacher. I was in her class during the wee hours of the morning, which meant that the sun hadn't yet risen, and I was stumbling about like the undead. Anyhow, this Spanish teacher of mine would literally pounce on you, (unsuspecting and half awake) and take a sort of perverse delight in finding a particular phrase or word that you hadn't yet memorized. I imagine that it's the kind of satisfaction that felines get while they toy with their semi-alive food. Other than that class, which was sort of like being in a blender with an electric eel, the only problem I faced was extensive and unrelenting boredom.
There's not much about my freshman existence that's entirely coherent. It was a string of confusing experiences and emotions: fear of displacement, gaining and losing everything in the same day, confusing attachment with love, more or less getting so lost that the only way out was by digging a tunnel.
I started my self-rescue by joining the wrestling team during my sophomore year. Everyone thought this was really exciting. A girl! On the wrestling team! Some people objected because they thought I was a little hussy trying to get dates by donning spandex and strapping on headgear. Trust me: it's not that attractive. To me, its appeal was in the brutally honest (and intensely challenging) nature of its competition. You brought what you had out to the mat, you left it there. You worked hard, you fought hard. The boys were smelly and crass, but at least they didn't make faces and put on the front. I didn't have to be associated with the snide little girls if I didn't want to. My life was in my hands. (Also, I no longer have any misconceptions about the state of personal hygiene as far as teenage males are concerned; it should be regarded as a national crisis.) And my fellow wrestlers grew to accept me, to even respect me. Through the program, I made invaluable friendships and learned invaluable lessons- ones that you can't learn anywhere else.
Secondly, I stopped fearing my differences. I realized that it was vastly more rewarding (and interesting) to be your own person and do your own thing. If I was going to be miserable, I thought determinedly, at least I was going to do it my way. However, I made sure to not try to distinguish myself as an angsty, repressed individual whom the system was merely trying to "keep down." And I realized that no matter how dire the circumstances, there was always something productive that I could do with myself. Throughout my remaining high school years, I've taken time to learn more about myself and other people, and especially to become interested in my own education.
I want to experience new things; I want to understand the true nature of diversity and difference.
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