I am officially a teen. This means I am 13 years old. This could also be interpreted as a decade and three years. Regardless of what you call “13,” I am a teenager, I have lived a short life, and I have developed into a slightly better person. I have grown from mistakes, I have been taught to treat life as a privilege–not a right–, and I have developed some unique personality traits. As an official teenager for the next seven years, I have goals that I aspire to achieve [read 23 for more ideas], and I continue to reflect, express and cherish the memories and lessons I have learned from childhood.
View the world with a clear paradigm. We often take instances or rumors for granted. I have learned to enter every situation with a clear paradigm so that I can fully saturate the positivity within every item of life.
I remember a summer, when I was eight years old. I went to an acting camp. I was not the least bit excited, simply attending because my friend had invited me. The sun was hot outside the car, it’s yellow rays beating down upon the Earth. I stepped out of the car. I stared at the run down building, noticing that between, every crack in the bricks, one or two vines emerged. The windows were dusty and placed high upon the wall. The unwelcoming front door was solid metal. There were no real parking spaces. Cars resolved this issue by parking in straight lines along the woody creek running besides the building. Weeds and shrubs grew sporadically along the creeks edge. Camp? This is called CAMP? I prepared for a run down interior and old, country-like counselors. I took my dad’s hand and we sauntered to the metal door that had no windows and a rusted handle. I pulled the door open. A squeak gave out. The room inside was artificially lit, with lights that emitted too much whiteness. The walls were constructed of black wooden planks. This is going to be the longest week of the summer…I thought.
Each day pulled my judgemental statement through the door to enjoyment. Lunch was eaten besides the creek, while we calmly discussed the details of our play. On Friday, three performances commenced in the small theater that had wooden benches for seats. Eagerly, I watched each play in awe. The costumes, the acting and the scenery aggregated, bringing an only imaginable stories of vampires and talking mushrooms, to life. Later that summer, I registered for an additional week.
This experience has helped me view the world with a clear paradigm. I have learned to enter each situation with a clear head, so I avoid falling into misleading pits that will hinder me from receiving the full benefit of life.
When appropriate, give people a second chance. We are humans. Humans occasionally fail. I believe that offering second chances to redeem oneself is as important as giving the first. Second chances allow for mistakes to be corrected. Second chances allow for room to grow. Second chances allow people to feel comfortable taking risks.
This aspect came to my attention when I was around nine or ten. I watched a movie called Second Chances. A primitive synopsis of the plot would encompass a girl whose father has passed in a car accident, leaving the girl with a broken leg. She and her mother move to a small trailer next to a horse farm. Recalcitrant and depressed, the girl explores the horse stable. She tames one of the wildest horses of the stable and some men working there offer her riding lessons once her leg heals. In the end, she conquers her fear of “popular” girls and is able to compete in a regional rodeo. The writer most likely called this movie Second Chances, as to show that although there will be setbacks encountered in life, many incidents will give us a second chance to start over. Within this story, I was able to clearly see how this brave, young girl was able to withstand with a boulder coming at her shoulders while moving forward in life. She was given a second chance to rebuild a similar life to what she had once lost.
Quite recently, somebody said to me, “You know Ava, the only reason I hate you is because you can do thing I know I’ll never be able to do.” This sentence caught my attention. For years, the entire grade has seen this person as ‘sanctimonious’, ‘too much ego’, ‘annoying,’ ‘self-centered.’ I cannot deny my agreement with these adjectives. This person always seems to be on your tail, correcting every piece of information you say. This person thought they were the best at everything life could offer. The worst part was that this person believed that they were ‘perfect.’ Whenever someone would offer advice, they would bat it away, thinking they had no room for improvement. They seemed to find no light on Earth. The person hated the world, and believed the world loved him back. For years, I’ve been vexed by this behavior and finally, I cut the ribbon. I asked them to read this blog. The next day, they had clearly seen something different. They began to recognize the skills others possess. For once, they seemed inspired by someone other than themselves! Here’s the proof. When I asked this person that following day whether they had read my blog, the answer was “Yes. It was very good. Deep thoughts. You know Ava, the only reason I hate you is because you can do thing I know I’ll never be able to do.” The person didn’t say anything else about the writing, however, it was apparent that something sparked within his mind. He recognized he was not the best at everything. Something changed. You see the power in giving second chances? People change.
Proactivity, is responsibility. When I was eleven, I received a book called The 7 Habits of Highly Effective Teens, by Sean Covey. Wow, the first chapter blew me apart. The first habit addressed was “Be Proactive.” They described it as the root of life. I completely agree.
Proactivity means “you happen to the world, don’t let the world happen to you.” It means developing the skill of responsibility. If you know you are struggling with an English essay, a proactive person would conference with the teacher. The opposite of a proactive person is a reactive person. They blame the world for happening to them. They act as poor envisioned pilots who drive their planes into mountains. However, given second chances, they can reconstruct their outlook in life and someday, fly into the sky once more.
Don’t be afraid to ask for help. I remember being a little girl in first grade, who was fairly advanced in her math class. I already knowing the multiplication tables when average first graders were learning addition and subtraction. I remember proudly raising my hand each time the teacher asked a question. Sometimes I would be the only hand raised, other times, there would be a few more. One day, doing a worksheet, I stumbled, unsure of how to solve a problem. The blanked out feeling, where you had tackle the whole page swiftly except for the last question shocked me. I tried to solve the problem using any strategy I could make up in my head. I did not know how to solve the problem, so I ended up sitting at my desk, pretending to do work. When the teacher walked around, offering help, only then did I accept the guidance.
It took me a while to fully understand that asking for help is not a sign of “dumbness.” I guess I had only avoided asking for help because I was afraid the teacher would think less of my ability. After transitioning schools, my new teacher told me that often it is the successful students who ask for help because they care enough to improve. I have learned that if you do not ask for help, the questions you have will build up throughout life, and sooner or later, you will find yourself in a very confused position.
Be yourself. I remember following one of my friends. Whenever she did something, I would follow, thinking that because she did something, others would not make fun of me for doing the same. If she told me to do something, I would say yes without a second thought. I used to hate disagreeing with something. I remember in second grade, someone in my class had excluded someone else from playing the game of tag. Alarm bells went off in my head as the soon as the words “Well, we’re kind of in the middle of the game. You can’t join” popped out of their mouth. I knew what that person had said was wrong. I just did not say anything because I was timorous, and too shy to stand up for what I believed was right. I thought that I would be excluded from tag if I said anything.
Five years later, I cherish the competence of expression. I love being able to express what I feel and do what I want. I was being manipulated before, now I feel more liberty. I have learned to be myself. The world is such a large space, with many areas for improvement. The world needs diversity of personality to bring about these changes. This is where we need to be ourselves.
Good writting
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