When I attended school, I learned mostly from teachers which did not invite question. The correct answer was to be memorized and repeated, and an "A" would be received. Similarly, in social situations, I was eager to agree, and never wished to report something that was "wrong". I had become an expert of the method, with favorable marks and great friends.
At the end of fifth grade, I heard the word "Homeschool" and felt a sinking feeling in my chest. What could this daunting unknown be? For some people, it presented a freedom to explore the world with few restrictions. Good for them. For me, that lack of restriction was exactly what I feared. My mom encouraged me to learn on my own by teaching myself. If I didn't know what I was learning, and no one existed to affirm what I thought was right, it seemed foolish to trust my instincts. In addition being around fewer teachers, I was around fewer friends. No longer did I every day learn what was cool. In social situations, I became quiet and awkward, not wishing to say anything that would be disagreed with.
The long period in which I was unable to appropriate others' ideas and personalities compelled me to begin forming and declaring thoughts of my own. This creation began with trivial things, and quickly developed to be the basis of everything I did. I was no longer absorbing from outside, instead I was inventing from within. If I had comfortably remained in school, I most likely would have continued as an inactive sponge. I was instead subjected to an irritating catalyst, reforming me into a hard-headed iconoclastic.
I transformed into the absolute negative of what had been. People who never build and utilize new thought will rarely see progress. Even worse, though, are beings which agree with only themselves and never learn from others; the consequences of such a situation usually oppose any positive mutual progress. Now I am a mean between the two: I am obstinately open-minded, and my underpinnings are open to rational persuasion.
The last paragraph, particulary the last sentence, seems fairly...bad. The piece as a whole sortof came out being analytically emotional; I was going for something more exuberant and glorious sounding.
What do you think?
Thanks!
At the end of fifth grade, I heard the word "Homeschool" and felt a sinking feeling in my chest. What could this daunting unknown be? For some people, it presented a freedom to explore the world with few restrictions. Good for them. For me, that lack of restriction was exactly what I feared. My mom encouraged me to learn on my own by teaching myself. If I didn't know what I was learning, and no one existed to affirm what I thought was right, it seemed foolish to trust my instincts. In addition being around fewer teachers, I was around fewer friends. No longer did I every day learn what was cool. In social situations, I became quiet and awkward, not wishing to say anything that would be disagreed with.
The long period in which I was unable to appropriate others' ideas and personalities compelled me to begin forming and declaring thoughts of my own. This creation began with trivial things, and quickly developed to be the basis of everything I did. I was no longer absorbing from outside, instead I was inventing from within. If I had comfortably remained in school, I most likely would have continued as an inactive sponge. I was instead subjected to an irritating catalyst, reforming me into a hard-headed iconoclastic.
I transformed into the absolute negative of what had been. People who never build and utilize new thought will rarely see progress. Even worse, though, are beings which agree with only themselves and never learn from others; the consequences of such a situation usually oppose any positive mutual progress. Now I am a mean between the two: I am obstinately open-minded, and my underpinnings are open to rational persuasion.
The last paragraph, particulary the last sentence, seems fairly...bad. The piece as a whole sortof came out being analytically emotional; I was going for something more exuberant and glorious sounding.
What do you think?
Thanks!
