Posted: Friday, August 10, 2012 11:13:18 PM
Everyone was screaming with exhilaration, throwing up their caps and hugging one another so tightly. I could hear the sobbing and sniffling of some, and the hoorays and jubilant shouts of others. Among the sea of people, I was just staring blankly at the banner – it said “Congratulations! NEHS Elementary School Graduation” – deep in thought.
My mind was not at the moment – it was drifting off to a recollection of memories. I first recounted my baby years. My dad said I disliked smiling, so never had a camera been able to capture my smile. He said I also hated being held by anyone other than him and Mom. I cried with all my strength from the moment I was out of the arms of my parents to the moment I was in that haven again. I couldn’t believe my dad’s words, since none of his descriptions fit the older me.
As I grew up, I began to be loquacious and happy – I think they both came from a growing sense of optimism. My mom said I was well-liked by all the kindergarten kids, the teachers, and even the principal. When I had to transfer to another kindergarten, the principal even organized a farewell ceremony for me. As sad as he was to have to wave goodbye to me, he wished me the best. I was also incredulous when I heard my mom’s stories of me, as those stories were so flatteringly hard to imagine.
In fifth grade, reality hit. No longer did I enjoy the popularity I had as a kindergarten kid. I took the blow of acrid words, the punch of being an outcast, the kick of snickering faces, and the lethal stab of bullying. My world crumbled, my dreams shattered, my optimism obliterated, I faced a thorough disillusionment and an unwanted reality check. However, I didn’t even believe my own descriptions of fifth grade year, since sixth grade spoke of dazzling stories of growth and maturity. I questioned, how did I go from being an outcast to being the well-liked, popular kid, always in the social spotlight?
Now I could hear the sobbing and the shouts more distinctly. I was back to the moment. Besides the shouts, I also heard the song, “You Raise Me Up,” by Westlife clearly. This time, I was contemplating the constant throughout the twists and turns of my life: my parents’ love.