Kinda Cool After All by Ayesha

Kinda Cool After All by Ayesha - July 2021 Scholarship Essay

If you walked into my bland, with the exception of one quote on the wall, sixth-grade language arts classroom, you might see a notebook flying across the room or maybe a tall bearded man munching on Oreos. The man was my teacher. When the year began, he certainly was not on my list of “kinda cool teachers”; he was far from it. However, it took me time to realize that he left me with a unique experience that words could not teach.
During the first quarter of the school year, I was surprised when I got a low grade on a straightforward writing assignment. When I asked for feedback, my teacher offered to raise my grade if I volunteered to share my piece with the next-door language arts class. Sharing your piece was daunting. Under my teacher's command, a whole 40 minutes would be dedicated to critiquing how you present and speak. Then another grueling 40 minutes were set aside to tear the writing into shreds. Hardly anyone ever volunteered. So, of course, I said no.
` However, the trend of low grades continued, and I struggled to keep an A in the class. I tried everything a sixth-grader could to no avail. I was frustrated. With the end of the quarter approaching, I knew I could not let my grades be published the way they were. It was time I do the unthinkable. You guessed it: I volunteered to share my piece.
After a night spent thinking of any excuse to miss school, I begrudgingly walked into the classroom with 26 pairs of unfamiliar eyes following me like a shadow. I walked up to the shaky podium, and before I could even get a complete sentence out, I heard booing. It was my teacher. Apparently, not even my loudest voice could reach his ears (which were directly in front of me in the front row seat, let me add). If you disregard the additional dozens of interruptions, I guess you can say I eventually got through reading my passage. The next part was a fever dream. I tried to listen to the feedback the students were telling me, but most of the time, I was discreetly glancing at the clock and praying for the bell to ring 20 minutes early by some miracle.
There was no miracle. And at last, it was time for my teacher to give his candor feedback. I prepared myself and tried to stop fidgeting under his silent stare. Surprisingly, all he gave me was a nod and a “Good. You are brave now.” For some unknown reason, all previous thoughts of how horrible the experience was escaped my mind, and a glowing feeling filled my chest. Back in the classroom, he pointed at the singular quote on the wall like always, except this time I truly understood what it meant: “What doesn’t challenge you, doesn't change you.” As I walked out, I could not help the small smile that graced my face, and it had nothing to do with my new grade.