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A+
I like A’s.
I cry when I get a B.
I’ve always strived to do well in school.
In elementary school, I would ask my teachers for the score I got on an assessment
that they were not supposed to grade.
When they asked why, I replied with “I need to know if I got 100%,”
If they caved,
And the score was
Not 100%,
I would ask the teacher if I could re-do it.
Even though it was not supposed to be a ‘real test’,
I needed to do well.
I needed the 100.
I needed a document proving that
I am smart.
I had always been told that I was
‘gifted’
‘Above average’
‘Exceeding Expectations’
‘Smart’
But,
as I get older,
That is starting to go away
I am no longer
extraordinary,
No longer special
I still get the A’s I want, but they are not as “Amazing!” as they had been before. The numbers are getting lower. They are no longer that perfect 100. Now, they are more like 97, 96, 95, and occasionally a disappointing eighty-something. To others, these numbers might seem more than acceptable. They might be their version of “exceeding expectations.” but for me, they are only a disappointment. A reminder of what I could do better. When I express my disappointment, someone usually says,
“A 95? That’s amazing! How could you possibly be disappointed with that?”
To me, those are empty words, because that person sees the 95 points I earned. I only see the 5 points I lost. Five more points and I could have been perfect. Five more points and I could have succeeded. Five more points and I could’ve proven that I am special.
Those stupid 5 points.
I hate those five points.
Why can’t I beat a wimpy five points?
I’ve always been a perfectionist. Some might see this as a gift, as I’ve had a lot of success in school, to them at least. I, However, see it as a curse.
I see the five points I could have earned instead of the 95 that I did.
I crave to be validated with words like ‘Smart’, ‘exceeding expectations’, ‘Above average’, and ‘gifted’.
I micromanage the grades I get and find ways to see my scores when I’m not supposed to.
And, most of all, I cry when I get
a B.
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This Poem/diary entry/whatchamicallit is a reflection of how I feel about my grades. I've always been intense about how I do in school and feeling this tremendous pressure to do well/succeed. I've never really known why I feel like this, but this piece captures my emotions in the best way possible. I created this because my English teacher told us to write a memoir. I don't think this technically qualifies as a memoir, but I'm proud of it and I want to share it.