A week into Fall, and the temperature was still lulling at 90 degrees, like the mosquitos that swayed comfortably above the bayou that ran for miles outside my English II class. The bayou would eventually diverge by my neighborhood. In class, the philosophical discussion on the Power of One by Bryce Courtenay also diverged. If Peekay could reach compos mentis (full command of one’s mind) after years of training, epitomized by a drunken bar fight, when would we ambitious students scrawled across plastic chairs and creaking wooden tables, reach compos mentis? Was it in adulthood, after college, or after the birth of our first child? How would we reach this state of understanding ourselves, our minds, and the balance that lies between them? Freshmen
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The humidity that hugged my skin, and the bugs that buzzed past my ears, were a fair trade for a free college education. At Early College Academy in Spring, Texas, I planned to get an associate’s degree while in high school, have laughable lunch conversations, and enter college halfway finished with my Bachelor’s degree; however, I moved to Cypress, Texas in the middle of my freshman fall semester. Up until this point, I identified myself solely on my academic achievements, my level-headedness, and the goals I planned to reach. Since my tremendous plan had been run over by the cheapest U-haul my dad could find, I was lost. Cypress students complained about their “crappy” 2015 Mustang, while Spring students celebrated their Mom’s old car by gifting it a two-dollar air freshener from the local 7-Eleven. However, I cannot criticize Cypress too much as I too had my own flaws. Similar to many overdramatic freshmen, I felt like my life was over. When you spend your whole life in a struggling area, the disparities between lower and upper middle-class lifestyle seem like a cruel joke. I understood that I should be grateful about finally having my own room, and living in an area with less violence, but I could not deny that I missed my friends. I genuinely missed our satirical jest about the non-existent building the school board had promised four years earlier. In Cypress, the students were not plagued by the same external issues. I was a logical person and moving was ideal, but I still felt sad. I struggled justifying my irrational
The humidity that hugged my skin, and the bugs that buzzed past my ears, were a fair trade for a free college education. At Early College Academy in Spring, Texas, I planned to get an associate’s degree while in high school, have laughable lunch conversations, and enter college halfway finished with my Bachelor’s degree; however, I moved to Cypress, Texas in the middle of my freshman fall semester. Up until this point, I identified myself solely on my academic achievements, my level-headedness, and the goals I planned to reach. Since my tremendous plan had been run over by the cheapest U-haul my dad could find, I was lost. Cypress students complained about their “crappy” 2015 Mustang, while Spring students celebrated their Mom’s old car by gifting it a two-dollar air freshener from the local 7-Eleven. However, I cannot criticize Cypress too much as I too had my own flaws. Similar to many overdramatic freshmen, I felt like my life was over. When you spend your whole life in a struggling area, the disparities between lower and upper middle-class lifestyle seem like a cruel joke. I understood that I should be grateful about finally having my own room, and living in an area with less violence, but I could not deny that I missed my friends. I genuinely missed our satirical jest about the non-existent building the school board had promised four years earlier. In Cypress, the students were not plagued by the same external issues. I was a logical person and moving was ideal, but I still felt sad. I struggled justifying my irrational