The Tests

The grief, guilt, and gut wrenching disappointment I get once the test comes back. The number 90 circled in red with a “good job!” from my teacher. It's not enough, it's never enough. Bronx science doesn't settle for the bare minimum. I have to go higher. Higher. Higher till I can't anymore but now the ground is so far. But the top is so close. But it's also so far. So so far. So I have to go higher and higher and higher till I'm past the top, and the bottom is no longer to be seen. But I can still see it. The faces of my parents once I bring home a 90. They are proud of me, they say. But they have a bare minimum daughter who can't reach high enough for the stars.

I have to relax, it's “just a grade” but it's not. It's so much more than a grade. This grade determines my high school, college, and probably even my future. So no, it's not just a grade. It shows understanding. The ability to take something on head first, control it and understand it. That I can show that I'm capable of taking a challenge. That I'm capable of having power and drive and that I'm not a loser, disappointment, failure.

Those 3 words are engraved in my brain. Once the test comes back as a 90 more words flood in, but one stands out. Just average. Just average? Does an average person sit at their desk for hours on end reading the same passage to understand it?  I tried my best. And academic burnout is a real thing. One ear ringing with “Do better”  and the other saying “take a break . Relax for a little bit”  

The test comes back, and I thought I did good. 55 circled. And if i didnt see that 55, -45.  Thanks for that. Then I saw one last thing, “What happened :(). My heart dropped. My hands shaking. Mind screaming and running and all the above. Once I open Jupiter and see the average I close my eyes and now I'm back home tired. The outside is dark and I'm wrapped under my blanket hugging my stuffed animals close to my chest as a tear falls down my eyes.