The Avid Reader (and enjoyer of all subjects)

Many changes have occurred to me and happened in my life recently.  For one, I switched schools, from the regular Davis Drive Middle School (with excellent teachers) to the GT magnet middle school Carnage–perfectly natural to satisfy my hopes to attend Enloe High School.  Then, my age turned from 11 to 12 two weeks ago (erm, I think we were also supposed to mourn over the lives lost when I was four *cough cough*).  My body cannot control my age change at all–nothing can.  But as I reflect over these changes, I am reminded over and over again about the one word that describes almost every aspect of me:  sensitivity.

Sensitivity applies to both my physical aspects and mental characteristics.  I’ve realized that a few days ago I picked a tie-dye shirt from 3rd grade.  I remember it was a medium sized shirt.  When I put it on it came two inches down my waist.  I’m surprised at how little times my mom’s been forced to go to Wal-Mart to find new clothes for me.  My height still hovers at around 5′, and I’m hoping for a growth spurt, but I did have the same wishes two years ago, and I grew an inch or so.  I’m still not taller than my mom (I’ve noticed many of my peers being taller than their parents, even their dads) and Roy can still stare me down.  On the bus everyone assumes I’m a sixth grader; when I tell them I’m in 8th grade they can guess that I’m young–all pointing to my height.  And my weight–well, let’s just put that my weight hasn’t changed for almost two years, and my sister is catching on fast, though I eat two times as much as she does and have never lost appetite before a meal.  My dad is even considering taking me to see the doctor about my weight.  Finally, the thing about crying:  it doesn’t take much to make me cry.  Normally a grade under 80 can do that.

Not only my physical characteristics but also my mental state reveals how much sensitivity fits me exactly.  Remember my travelogue at China, when I said I was bored at the toy store?  Well, here’s my actual confession: (I have to gather my courage to say this)  I can still become fascinated by LEGOs or even little Hot Wheels cars.  You know on some LEGO box labels when people write “Ages 5-12″?  I bet that two years later I still won’t have lost interest in LEGOs.  I still love to fantasize about “Toyworld” and “Playworld” with my sister.

But being so sensitive isn’t always a bad thing.  Whenever I’m awake in the night I am extra cautious if there’s a criminal in our house or not; when I’m in the bathroom I check all nooks and crannies before doing my business; and before I sleep I always look underneath my bed and in the closet to check for lurking figures.  And my sight and hearing aren’t bad either; even though I’ve had to get new glasses, when we went to Yellowstone the first animal we saw was seen by me.  (My parents had perfect vision with their glasses, and in 5th grade I was supposed to get glasses, but we postponed it. )  And I was the one who saw the grizzly bear hidden among the forests in the distance from a football field’s length away.  (Note here that I’m not trying to brag; if this is offensive, I apologize.)  Finally (and probably the most relieving to my parents) I don’t act like the stereotypical American teenager.  A stereotypical American teenager has better things to do than blog or do math games and math problems online; he/she spends most of their time watching TV shows, listening to his/her I-Pod,  excitedly playing their Nintendo DS or Wii, or  updating their Facebook page, MySpace page, or (oh god) Twittering.  (When I was in fifth grade I hadn’t even heard of those chimerical contraptions.  Twittering?  The first thing that came to mind was a real-life bird.)  I don’t let my mind sleep, my identity gradually be revealed, or my eyes get increasingly worse.  (Note:  I have a congenital astigmatism in my left eye.)

Most of all, my dislike of change makes me cling to my personalities of childhood, not to evolve to the adolescence period:  to obey my parents less than most teens do.  I NEVER give in to peer pressure.  I try to follow my parents’ instructions, and I will NEVER EVER forget my promise to afford the best house and car I can for them when I start earning my own money.  Some teenagers don’t listen to their parents’ commands.  They don’t know what the right thing for them is, no matter how much pain, boredom, or sadness it causes them.  They only know how to satisfy their own pleasures.  That is the wrong course of life.  So I think, it is my exaggerated sensitivity that will lead me on the right track. 

This entry was posted on Friday, September 25th, 2009 at 8:13 pm and is filed under Education. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.