My journey to the west, Chapter 1 (Primary Education)

I remember my first days at school, learning English and Hebrew, breezing through the remedial math of this American fourth grade. "Can you draw a tree?" was the only question the other students asked me on my first day of school that I understood every word of. I was so used to not understanding, I said "What?" but then caught myself and jumped in "yes, yes I can." And I drew one and blew everyone out of the water. I think I even drew a little girl reading beneath it.

Those were my shaky first steps on the "lavish shag carpet" of American culture. It didn't take me long to get my footing. Two months to learn English. Less time to make friends.

Middle school was middle school. Most everyone goes through the motions of middle school while fighting off the stifling drama of pubescent hormonal rage. Interesting though, in the eighth grade, before I ever had my first boyfriend, I was already starting to feel the pressure to take the right classes, go to the right high school, pick a career, get into college.

In high school, I took all advanced classes. I took all the AP tests, took and retook the SATs and the ACTs. I searched out private colleges that offered good programs in art and design. I sent in my applications.

I'm skipping a lot here, obviously. Somewhere at the end of 8th grade, for instance, I entered into a religious crisis and emerged very cynical. It took me sometime to overcome that and become the cheerful bird I am today. I had boyfriends in high school and family drama. Just as puberty should go out here in California, right?
Somehow that stuff doesn't feel that relevant, though. At least not yet.

I want to pause here and reflect on why I followed that academic path in high school.

There were advisers and directions and talks... I think there was some woman that made a living of telling kids and parents how to maximize their UC attending opportunities. And in a sea of Asian parents, I sat, listening.

And yet, I never took the SAT IIs and never made any effort to apply to any UCs. The more I think about it, the more I realize that I didn't take the AP classes because I wanted to get into college. I took the AP classes simply because I wanted to take them. I was bored by the material, the presentation, and the people in the regular ("college prep") classes.

It seems so simple, but I just took the advanced classes because I wanted to... learn? I wanted to be challenged. I got angry when I wasn't challenged, when I felt like I was being talked down to. The other thing is, I don't think I could really imagine any other way of being, than taking the most advanced classes. So I took them.