80%

I confidently handed my test paper over to my teacher, the pressure lifting from my chest. My friends from the same class and I then rushed over to one another to discuss our answers, as any student in our academically oriented and competitive magnet would do. So far, my answers were all confirmed by at least three of my friends. I could see the 100% right in front of me. That was until Jeffrey R., who was known for acing every single bio test, walked in. People immediately began to ask him about pedigrees. I realized I had gotten every single pedigree question wrong. A little doubt crept into my mind… “maybe I got a 92%. It’s still an A.” He then explained chi square analysis. My answers were the complete opposite from his! I had failed. The pressure of being last place behind everyone else came crashing down on me — all because of Jeffrey R.’s answers. 

On the way home from school, I checked every five minutes if my grade was posted. I waited. I checked. Nothing. I waited. I checked. Nothing. I waited. I checked. 80%. The music in my headphones pounded in my ears as my heart beat faster. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I quickly checked my class grade. It was a “B.” The first unit test of the semester gave me a “B” in the class. I had failed. I'm not even in the race anymore. I’m disqualified. To add salt to the wound, text messages from my friends crowded my notifications…

“What did you get on the test?”

“OMG I GOT A 100%.”

“UGH. I only got 94%. I could’ve done so much better.”

“90% :( I’m so stupid.”

I’ve never thought about pursuing a science related career. I’m actually a music and language person. But as more people began to share their scores with me, I couldn’t help but measure myself against everyone else. It felt as if this “B” in AP Biology had destined me to be nothing compared to my peers. I could picture my friends flying off to college as I lamented in my room with all my college rejections. Say goodbye to my double major life of language and music in New York. I felt stupid. 

Being in a Highly Gifted Magnet feels like life in a pressure cooker. It affected me so much that I began to overlook where my real passions lie. I subconsciously discounted myself because of what others were doing. While the majority of my Highly Gifted Magnet friends enrolled in STEM related classes over the summer to get ahead of the grade level, I was merely singing in recitals and listening to audiobooks with my mom in the car. Since everyone else seemed to aim for focusing and succeeding in STEM, I associated STEM with high value. Because I enjoyed something of “lesser value,” I needed to do 100 times better than my peers in all classes – including AP Biology. I needed to prove to myself and everyone else that despite my “lesser valued” interests, I was worth something. That I was smart enough to belong and run in the race of the Highly Gifted Magnet. 

Recently, my mom told me a story about her long ago search for an internship opportunity. She was offered a very prestigious internship and another that wasn’t as prestigious but piqued her interests more. She chose the path that everyone else labeled as the “It” opportunity instead of the one that she truly wanted; she now regrets that choice. A few weeks ago, my singing teacher sent me a copy of the recommendation letter he had written for a summer music intensive I applied to. He praised my musical understanding of songs, saying that I was a “natural,” and describing how much I truly enjoyed singing. I read that letter and realized that I shouldn’t cast aside my true passions because of what other people think or do – similar to what my mom had done in the past. I don’t have to enroll in STEM related subjects to be “smart” or “successful.” 

I’ve been listening to the audiobook “Erasing the Finish Line” with my mom. It includes many topics involving high school and social life. It also recommends that people let go of the suffocating pressures of their environment and social circles and instead set their own standards. This book taught me that I am not the only one feeling these emotions. I now realize that the peer pressure I feel in the Highly Gifted Magnet is something I’m doing to myself. Thus, it is something I can control. I am smart when I sing. I am smart when I write. I am smart even when I get a “B” in a unit test in AP Biology. Only my accomplishments and how I weigh them determine my worth.

 I am embarking on my journey not only to “erase the finish line,” but to define my own meaning of success. The meaning of success doesn’t rely on other people’s meanings. It doesn’t rely on whether I got an 80% on a biology test. Success relies on what makes me happy. Success relies on what makes “me” me.