<p>When people hear the words special and education repeated in that order, in quick succession they normally picture one of two things. One thing they might picture is a large child with mismatched clothing, oddly spaced eyes, and an insatiable and unusual fondness for hugging. If not that, then they will likely picture a hyperactive child who is easily distracted all things shiny in nature. Because of these common prejudices, I have time and again found myself spoken to in a slow and clear manner whenever I mention that I spent six years of my life in a Special Education program.
When I first joined the program in September of 2002, oil was cheaper and more ubiquitous than Starbucks coffee, everything south of Tribeca was still misty with a miasma of aerosolized commercial centers, and people did not know what to say upon being informed that I had been diagnosed with ADHD, and was attending a special education class. I would not lie that misunderstandings regarding my mental status were a rare thing, or that they were quite easily righted and quickly forgotten. I would get irked when friends of my parents would question my intelligence, or speak to me in the manner one might speak to migrant worker before coming to the embarrassing realization that speaking louder and slower would not magically translate English into Spanish. Despite peoples odd reactions to my educational status, I never resented the fact that I was a Special Education student, or as we referred to ourselves, a sped. I found that each unique feature of the program, even the negative ones, has had a powerful effect on making me the well-rounded person I am today.
I remember that each lesson spanned a matter of weeks, each class delving into greater and greater detail. While some would grow bored with the subject after the first two weeks, it instilled in me an obsession to learn everything about the subject and everything I could be learning instead. It didnt even matter to me when my fourth period history teacher, Mr. Kaufman, sheepishly admitted his regret that the class never passed the industrial revolution, for I learned on my own everything from the first world wars bloody beginnings in an Austrian delicatessen, to the angry chants echoed by Youth International Party.
When I found myself the target of under-estimation, by teachers, doctors, and other assorted people whom I hope have learned otherwise, I learned not to get discouraged. I found their imposed adversity to be a stronger stimulant than espresso brewed from redbull and sweetened with pixie-stix. At first I worked solely for the immature purpose of shoving my success in their faces, perhaps hoping that my little triumph would un-pixelate their view of me and other speds, but slowly I began to work for the natural high I got from success.
As 2008 dawned, I came to find that I had taken what I needed from the special education program, and decided that it was time to move on to the mainstream. I decided early on that I would not forget the friends that I had made, and to this day, my strongest bonds hold true. I also promised myself that I would found a new home for myself among the unmedicated Joes of my new school, this however posed the unseen challenge of two ways of life coming into a cold war. The students and teachers alike seemed more active, as if each day, each week, passed in the blink of an eye. The emphasis on personal identity had been superseded by a pack instinct, with each throng representing a different credo. Over time I came to realize that this cultural clash was not just the sum of a few aesthetic differences that I would have to man up to and assimilate into. It was a chance to apply each of the life-lessons I learned. I could learn so much more here than just the sciences and humanities of classic academia. Forget the grape-blanketed fields of Italy or France, or the bustling streets of Hong-Kong, this was a foreign land with a different people and a different way of living, if I could learn to thrive here; I could thrive anywhere.
I no longer miss the Special Ed. Program, for each day is a new opportunity to meet new friends, think new thoughts, and learn new lessons. I will take with me my work ethic, my thirst for knowledge, and my desire to make something great of myself. No matter where I go, I will always remember where I came from, and I hope that along the way, I will teach everyone I meet the meaning of the term Special Ed.</p>
<p>Where are you applying?</p>
<p>Penn, George washington, American, Northeastern, and Boston University</p>
<p>Chunkylubber–You should delete this post and private message your essay to anyone willing to help edit.</p>
<p>how do i delete this post?</p>
<p>This was really good. Interesting topic, and it definitely caught my attention.</p>
<p>idk how that shows you can add anything to a university</p>
<p>Pretty good, but a bit too long.</p>