I Hate Being A Genius

My name is Oliver and I'm in the 9th grade. I'm what many people would call an "average" student. I get average grades, have average friends, and just live an average life. Recently, I finished an IT program at a nearby college. It seemed really exciting to me, at first, because I loved learning new things, regardless of me being the lazy one in the family; but after a few weeks, I realized it wasn't for me. I could've just dropped out anytime I wanted if I didn't want the $500 prize waiting for me at the end of the line. For me, it was like going through hell, and I know that sounds cliché, but this isn't the same type of hell that I usually go through at school.

It was a regular Saturday afternoon - my elder sister Sabrina would usually go over to her friend's house, my elder brother would usually go to the nearby basketball court to shoot hoops, my dad would be sitting in front of the TV all day watching sports, my mom would be looking for summer camps for my siblings and I to go to, and I would camp in my room and play video games. It was coming to the end of June and I had already gone through a summer camp that I actually really liked. I was going to get some lunch from the kitchen, but i had to pass my mom. I avoided looking her in the eye because she would make me do chores, but of course, she stopped me anyway and asked me if I wanted to go to a college to study IT and win $500. Of course, I agreed for three reasons: I get to brag to my friends about going to a college and about how I am above them in academics, I have the opportunity to learn something that will help me choose a career, and I get rich just by taking a couple of tests and doing a bit of homework.

And so two days later, I'm lined up to register for the exam. It took a couple of days to get the entire process through for some reason but the day finally came when I had to take the entrance exam. The exam was separated into three parts - Math, English, and IT. Boy was I glad to see that! Math and English weren't only my two favorite subjects but they were also my best, so the result when I came out of the test wasn't surprising. Unlike my siblings who had registered and practically failed the exam the years before, I passed with flying colors. This was the start of my everlasting pain.

The first day of the program came and I quickly got settled in and was actually quite comfortable because the whole setting of the campus was quite similar to my school. The dress code was different from my school, but I could cope with it. My classmates and I quickly got to know each other. The first teacher (whose name was Mr. Green) came in and he actually made a nice first impression on the whole class. He was a tanned, tall and lanky man. He introduced himself and laid down some rules, then began to pull up some slides from the projector. But before he could even get a word out to teach the lesson, the department administrative assistant, Ms. Smith, barged into the class and called Mr. Green outside. A few of my classmates giggled as the figure strode across the classroom and through the door. A minute later, our teacher casually opened the door and tried to keep a straight face but you could see a look of embarrassment in his eyes. 

"I hate to tell you all this….  but for today I'm not going to be teaching this class. I've apparently found the wrong class." he said.

He then packed up his stuff and left. The class became loud once again. Everyone took the opportunity to talk some more. Finally, Mr. Brown came in. He was a big guy with a thick beard and seemed to be jolly all the time. He announced his own set of rules and talked about the lesson as he put up slides on the board using the same projector. The classes for the rest of the day weren't as exciting as I hoped but I tried to keep a good attitude.

Long story short, Mr. Brown eventually got to hate me, even though I followed rules and never stepped out of line. I got a ton of homework for turning in the next day nearly every day, and the tests were super hard. I barely passed the program and after a few weeks of deciding how they were going to pay the remaining students, I was up on stage to collect my check. By the time the program was officially over, I lost all want for bragging rights; I just never was in the mood. That program caused me to hate IT forever. I decided I would just become a carpenter like my dad.

Regardless of me hating IT, however, I couldn't help but know practically everything about it. All of my friends would constantly ask me the answers to those type of questions and I always hated knowing the answer to them. And it wouldn't just be my friends asking me the answers to IT-related situations but my family was included also. My mom and dad would constantly ask me to fix the TV or desktop whenever something went wrong with them. Sometimes I would even have to change clothes just to do what they say. One time, when my sister broke her phone, instead of taking it to a technician to get it fixed or simply getting a new phone, she took it to me to fix it. Of course I refused, but that just gave me an even worse reputation in the family than just being lazy, but also rude. That only made me hate IT more.

I gradually got used to it day by day; in fact I actually enjoyed helping others, but I still hated the subject. And I still would rather become a carpenter instead. I'm now considered a helpful person in my school and family; probably because I have a better attitude toward helping others with IT related problems. I may still hate the subject but at least I can benefit off of it.