My grades were falling but not in every area. The areas that I was messing up in were math and science and these were also very important areas to my parents. They saw the grades, continuously yelled at me, but I didn't know how to fix my problems. Figuring out math and science was like trying to understand what was going on in a Spanish soap opera. However, the good part about math was in two more weeks the struggle would be over. The school would purposely move me from Algebra to pre-Algebra. My brain would be at rest, or so I thought. I wasn't in my school zone and it was starting to take a toll on my parents. They decided it would be a good idea for me to move to a school where I could ride the bus. The switch happened before the math class could get easier and I was again doomed to fail. And I did fail for the rest of the semester.
Science became easier at the new school. The teacher didn't actually teach and we took open book tests. My mind wasn't stressing out at all. However, at the new school I was again stuck in Algebra when I didn't need to be. The new teacher recognized my struggle. She was ready to put me in a lower class, but my parents weren't having that. She had my consent to make my life easier, but my parents thought she was being racist by telling them I needed to be in a different class. She was white and they weren't pleased. So I failed, got yelled at, and failed again for the rest of the semester. Before this grueling semester I had been called a nerd.
My love for reading made some assume I was a nerd. They said "She's a little girl reading for fun so she must be nerdy and smart. She must know everything." Being a nerd was somewhat of an insult but I claimed the title. I really didn't have a problem with it until I spent that horrible semester in 2000 failing Algebra. That semester of failing made me realize I wasn't a nerd.
I wasn't a nerd, but I wanted to be one. However, my lack of being good at and even interested in math and science set me back. Without an interest in math and science I could never be a nerd. However, I could like them. I could dream of falling in love with an engineer, doctor, astronaut, or even electrician. The architects carefully making measurements when they weren't even working could quench my need for a nerd in my life. I could dream about letting them entice me with their job experience. A doctor would tell me about all his frustrating patience. A pharmacist could tell me about all the different types of medicine he has to prescribe to patients. Then when they were tired of talking about their jobs they could tell me about their hobbies. I envisioned myself enjoying watching anime with the man of my dreams and discussing his love for hockey. Yeah, it would be a dream made in Nerd Heaven, but the fantasy got old real fast.
The nerds came, but the bad boys did too. The nerd were just as I imagined them, but each time felt like I was settling for something safe. The non-nerds on the hand brought fun. They gave me memorable experiences, such as getting drunk and carrying me halfway across the club. The nerd seemed to be happy just in my presence. No excitement, no special experience. The nerds never made me guess, but the other guys drove my mind around in circles. They claimed that I was so sexy and then did disappearing acts until they needed some feminine attention once again. Wait, the exciting ones didn't always disappear before the flame died. Sometimes life was just exciting and then the excitement was over. Neither the nerds or the opposites were bad. No, they were all good guys. I just realized nerds and I have nothing in common.
No, absolutely nothing. Nerds are not my type and I'm quite possibly not their type either.
This is the second post where I describe experiences of not fitting in. Guess it's a series. Keep following if you can hang.
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