Installment 3 by Keyle Pacaja
In high school, I had my ups and downs but one scenario that stood out was freshman year. As I was starting to live into my teenage years, the most significant experience would have to be starting high school. That's where all the special moments happened, and college topics start to appear. In my hometown, they would try their best to have events for the students and they would separate the honors students with the other students in the school, which to me felt wrong. But, at the time I was an honors student, I was even put in an honors class but that would soon change.
During this time, I had a teacher from the language arts class, and she was tough on grades and assignments but had interesting topics for us to discuss as a class. I didn’t have a good background in middle school, but I pulled myself up and decided I wanted to be someone one day, but this teacher had other plans for me. She would attack me in the classroom to make me feel less as a person and overall, she would have her favorites in the classroom. I would go to ask for help but she would give me passive-aggressive answers and I knew something was up with her because she targeted just me.
As a student I was confused, and I was trying to be nice to her, but she would completely ignore me. The teachers were the ones who would choose who would go into honors or stay back in the regular classes. I went to go talk to her and see what advice she would give me about the class for next year. I regret going to her on that day she would make me feel less as a person and give me no hope into future. As I was standing in the classroom with her, she would smile in my face saying, “what makes you think you’re going to honors?'' I was in shock and tried to hold my tears back. I never thought a teacher would ever say that to me.
I was in the classroom for forty-five minutes or so, I felt like I was getting attacked. She told me that I wouldn't survive in college from the behavior I had in the classroom and said many awful things to me. I was outraged and sad that my teacher didn’t believe I would do great things. Regular people always end up doing fine, I didn’t want to be regular, but that’s how she saw me. I left that classroom in tears and as I’m writing this it’s bringing up so many memories that I don’t want to remember from that day. Due to the teacher having connections with the principal and superintendent, I didn’t tell anyone. I was too scared that it would have poor repercussions on me.
I can’t believe people with so much power would have the audacity to tell students that and not consider another alternative way of speaking to students. From that same year, I didn’t let that get to me. I was determined to prove her wrong and become somebody. As the first college student in my family, I’m proud to say there is more coming in my future. A lot of first-gen students might have experienced what I had gone through or something totally different, but this doesn't keep us down. I am a proud Hispanic and all my hard work is still continuing. I can’t wait to go back to my high school and show her what I’ve become without her help.
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