Last week, I was talking to a friend. She mentioned that one of the interesting traits to smart people is that they usually know that they are smart. I said that, for me, it was because of the way people treated me. On one side, the teachers would treat me differently; I had extra opportunities and extra encouragement. On the other side, because I was the “over-achiever” (and I’m pretty sure obnoxiously so), other students would treat me differently. Once I got to junior high and high school, it got even worse as I would take more classes with older students and interacted more with students like me. I was apparently annoying enough for my pre-calc teacher (I was very enthusiastic about math at the time) that she moved me to the back of the class. This turned out to be a good thing since that’s when I realized I needed glasses. Hehe.
By my junior year, I was so tired of it. In high school, sometimes you just want to blend in. That’s when I had an opportunity. Not being very good at history, I took regular U.S. History instead of AP with my friends. This put me in a class with a bunch of people I really didn’t know well, so I made a decision. I was going to be normal. I wasn’t going to raise my hand, even if I knew the answer. I wasn’t going to stand out. And, oddly, it worked.
I made some really good friends in that class. Friendships that became the model for my friendships in college and later. Among those friends, two I remember very well were J. and Tony. I don’t remember much from the class (especially a full list of who else was there, which I’ll probably get reminded about), but I remember we had a lot of fun. I don’t know why, but that class and those friends were so special to me (to the point where this memory was so strong last week as I was talking about it with my friend). I guess it was because they made me feel like I was normal.
After the class, I’d still see them and hang out in the halls, as I would with my other friends. The last time I saw Tony was my 18th birthday party, the night before he went off to boot camp to become a Marine. I’ve assumed everything has been okay with him. During the height of the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan, I would check the casaulty list regularly to make sure he wasn’t on it. I’d kept in contact with J. most of the time since, usually involving nerdy computer stuff and the work he was doing (he had what I considered a dream job, working at an ISP). Once facebook came around, it was nice because I got to see his family grow and him going on all these adventures as he loved scaling every snowy peak he could set his eyes on.
And maybe that’s why. That’s why I haven’t been able to keep my eyes dry today. Someone that made a big difference in my life is now gone. His friendship was one of a chain that helped me become the person I am today (as opposed to the shy, awkward, and often obnoxious kid I used to be).
J., I never told you, but you really did make a big difference in my life, and I’m going to miss you so much. I just keep looking at this picture you took that your brother put up, with the amazing final view from atop Mt. Hood. And I know you’re on an even bigger adventure now, with an even greater view. Bye for now.