I Am Not A Number. I am a HUMAN BEING.

There are times in my life where I am absolutely astounded that I have thoughts and feelings and motivations apart from the people around me, and that they have thoughts and emotions apart from mine. It's hard to explain exactly why this mini-revelation always manages to make me stop in my tracks, but it always does, and every time I feel like I'm getting closer to whatever it is I'm supposed to be “figuring out” as a teenager.

I suppose one of the reasons I'm thinking about this now (and I am not entirely sure why these two things are related, I only know that, somehow, they are) is because another quarter is ending at school, and my grades, as always, are simply horrendous, as they have been for years now. My mother simply adores reminding me of this factoid.

Understand, I am not an unintelligent person. I know I'm entirely capable of comprehending the coursework and doing the homework and passing the exams (with the possible exception of my college-level foreign language, which I am struggling to understand.) I just... don't do the work. I don't do it, and I have no good excuse, and I know that. And I suppose that's where the understanding that I have my own separate thoughts comes in—if I thought about it, I would probably be able to sit down, do my homework, and be done. But I feel like all of these other thoughts are so much more important!

Think about it; I'd rather be able to keep myself from having emotional breakdowns than memorize the formula for statistics that isn't ever useful outside of class. I'd rather learn how to connect and relate with people in my life than take notes on the economy of Europe during our Civil War. I'd rather be on my bike than in a desk. I'd rather be having semi-philosophical, fulfilling conversations with my friends about God and religion and the possibility of an afterlife than sitting in English, beating the symbolism of Huck Finn into the ground. (This is not to say I don't see the value in the symbolism of Huck Finn. I just think we're severely limited by the intellect of select individuals within the classroom and the low expectations that our teachers have for our ability to grasp deeper concepts and meanings.)

I suppose I'm one of those “hippie-people” who feels they would learn better sitting in a bean-bag chair in a field or on a tree-limb reading a book. I feel like all of the valuable things I have learned in my life were learned outside of school—every single valuable lesson or moral I can think of was something I was taught by a friend or discovered by myself, far away from the rigid, conformist, unchanging structure of a public, windowless, required-attendance school. But you know what? That's exactly how I feel. Sure, I like learning new things. Yes, I suppose I'd love to go to college someday. But I'm not going to place all of my effort and my most valuable thoughts and revelations into a form that will fit on a standardized test!

These thoughts and emotions and ideas and discoveries, they are my own. And shoving them aside to with within the straight lines of a school that lines up with the self-imposed boundaries of a classroom seems entirely pointless and stupid. “Yes Mom, I want to go to college. Yes, Mom, I'll take the practice ACT/SAT. Yes Mom, I know I'm smart. YES, Mom! I know my GPA sucks!” But you know what? I don't think I'm defined by a number. Not my grade, not my age, not my IQ or GPA or my goddamned standardized test scores! And you may think that “that's how the world will view you,” but you know what? I don't. I don't think anyone's going to look at a bunch of numbers and decide whether or not I'm worth their time. And if they do? Well, then, they're not worth my time.

I know so many beautiful souls in this world, and not a single one of them cares what my grades are like. And I'm not saying I'm going to completely blow them off—I do want to be able to make a living someday, yes. But I refuse to waste all of this precious time and all of these thoughts like jewels on a school that sucks them up like spaghetti noodles and spits them out as gray-flannel-suit suburban business-people. I do not want to be one of those people. I AM NOT one of those people. I am not.

And I am extremely proud of that.