If I could paint you, my friend- Rebecca

Being an artist, I often think of certain people in terms of images, as I would paint them allegorically. I removed the names that go along with these- if you’re listed here, you might be able to tell anyway; and if not, then that’s ok too. I may do another one of these later, since there are quite a few people I think of in terms of detailed imagery; but in the meantime, these are four of my closest friends at the moment.

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If I could paint you, my friend, I would paint a butterfly. A fragile thing of delicate beauty, fluttering about in a garden of brightly-colored flowers, bringing beauty and joy to all who see you. Some might think you a shallow creature, lacking in purpose or direction- and indeed, you are generally content to flit wherever the breeze takes you. But you should know, my friend- your purpose is in that self-same nature.

You make me smile, you make me laugh. You draw me out of myself and into your world of blossoms and sun. And while I may gently cradle your broken and tattered wings when the storms of life have dashed you to the ground, I always know that when my own heart is storming deep inside of me, those same fragile, brilliant structures will be just enough to sweep back the clouds and let in your light.

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If I could paint you, my friend, I would paint a lake. Surrounded by mountains, in an idyllic valley, accessible only to those who make the effort to find it. Deeper than anyone knows, and smooth as glass on the surface; hiding any sign of turmoil or strife within those limitless depths. Occasionally the wind and rain might whip up high and dangerous waves on that lake, but when the storm passes, the water settles again, hiding anything that has fallen into itself deep within, leaving no sign of its passing on the surface. And then, when the sun shines, it glances off of that glistening surface and turns it into a radiant mirror for the endless sky.

When I am unsettled and anxious, I sometimes feel as though I could pour all of myself –my troubles, my worries, my pain- into those depths, and somehow find within myself some of that stillness, and that peace. You settle me, you help me find that calm within myself when I think it is unreachable.

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If I could paint you, my friend, I would paint a sword, or a dagger. You are the strike of the hammer in the forge- that brilliant flash and sputter of sparks with the clanging ring of metal. You are the charge at the fore-front of battle, the counter-strike to any attack. A leader and a protector in your own, strident way- never a shield, but always a blade.

You are a shining example to me, my friend, my champion- of moving forward; of being nothing more or less than what you are; of shining in the sun like a beacon, unafraid to speak out whatever it is you believe.

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If I could paint you, my friend, I would paint a bird. Sometimes you seem a silly creature, a magpie of sorts; and others you have all of the grace and joy of a robin in the spring. Trying so hard to fly free of everything that might try to hold you back, you never compromise who you feel you are, or should be. A bird does not walk, or swim, it flies- and so you do only what your nature dictates, asking no apology and seeking no vindication from the world.

You always have and always will love to have fun as you fly, and you have always dragged me along into your light-hearted, dizzying games as you fly so high it seems you might fall, only to pull yourself out of the dive inches from the ground and swoop even higher. When I refuse to move, you are a solid peck in the ear. When I am so low to the ground that I can no longer even see the sky, you taunt and tease until I chase you up into the clouds.

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Confessions of a "Smart Kid" - Jeddie

All of my life, I’ve been a “smart kid”. And it sucks. Because when you’re the “smart kid”, that’s all anyone ever notices about you. Us “smart kids” live under tons of pressure: people telling us we should be doctors, lawyers, world-changers, break-through scientists. I’ve heard it all. But apparently, people feel like it’s okay to put tons of pressure on smart kids because we can “handle it”. And no one ever thinks that maybe we don’t want to be a doctor or a lawyer. We have our own dreams, and other talents as well besides academics.

Let me tell you what growing up a “smart kid” is like. First of all, unless you get really lucky, your teacher has problems with you. They may love you, they may hate you. But you cause a problem. Because you are already way ahead of the class, and so you have to be taught differently. Some of us deal with it by being bored and not doing any work at all because it’s so dadgum easy. I’ve been that kid. Some of us get all of our work done super fast, because it’s so easy, and then sit around by ourselves bored. I’ve been that kid too. The worst scenario I’ve had to deal with is the teacher announcing to the class how smart I was or how well-done my work was. The consequences? I was bullied through most of elementary school.

My own scenario was already bad because I went to private schools from second grade until finally going to a State University my sophomore year of college (one of the best decisions I’ve ever made). So the vast majority of my peers in public schools already thought I was a prick. However, even in the private school setting, I was a “smart kid” – which earned me good grades, yes, but no real friends because of the teachers. The only “friends” I had really just wanted me to do their homework for them, with a couple of very appreciated exceptions. There were no honors societies to group us “smart kids” together so we’d have friends at our own level.

Don’t get me wrong, good grades are great! But is it really a good idea to advertize to other students in the class how well one student is doing? Wouldn’t that just make the rest of the class feel underachieved? Less than perfect? I’m experiencing this right now – someone in my family is smarter than I am, and so there are those singing her praises who’ve never sung mine. It sucks. And I don’t want anyone else to feel that way.

This is why I hate when people point out my academic abilities. I don’t care about school, honestly. The only reason I continued my education past high school was because that was the only way my parents would buy me a car. And now that I’m in my junior year, I might as well finish. My point is, let the “smart kid” be the kid that cares about school. Let them be the kid that works hard for that A, as most of us “smart kids” don’t really have to. If you feel like you must point out a students’ abilities, ask their permission first, and be prepared for them to say no. Because they may be a “smart kid” like me.

My grades are not who I am. I would love attention for my novels, for my singing, for my acting, for my service. Because that is who I am. Those are the talents I like most about myself. I hate attention on my grades. Because I know that somewhere if I am getting attention for my grades, there is someone who worked infinitely harder than I did, and didn’t get any attention at all because of the stupid number written in red ink at the top of the page.

Obviously, I am not all "smart kids". I know there are some people who do really well with public praise on the academic abilities. And if it is someone's dream to be smart and go to Med school or Law school, they should go for it. But just remember that "smart kids" are not just their grades. We have our own dreams, that may not be the dreams you think we should have because we're smart.