New Sight, New Light
“The ability to observe without evaluating is the highest form of intelligence.” — J. Krishnamurti
In 9th grade, during 2nd period American Lit, I’d move seats closer to the board to take notes. I was blind as a bat. It would have been easier to sit in the front row permanently, but I had a reputation to uphold — one that hadn’t fully formed yet but desperately needed protection. The back row was reserved for wannabe deviants like yours truly.
Every time Mr. Ireland went to write notes on the board, I would rush to one of the many empty desks in the front of the class — each one already primed with a mélange of chewing gum stationed in questionable places.
I would squint and squeeze my eyeballs until my sockets could barely hold onto them, hoping to write down important notes that would help me on future quizzes. English was the only class that I cared about. It was the only class that I got A’s in. A girl in class that I admired called me an overachiever. Little did she know that I sucked at pretty much everything else, with the exception of basketball.
I played basketball on my high school team. I was a bench warmer, called only into the game on the rare occasion that we were winning. I remember one so-called game like it was yesterday.
