We
became friends in elementary school.
I don’t remember which grade we were in when we first met. I don’t remember how we had become
friends. All that I remember is
that now and today we are still friends, even after we finished high school and
our first year of college.
I
was born on September 18th 1992 and he was born on September 17th
1993. I grew up with everyone
calling me “Jesy” and he grew up with everyone calling him “Jesse”. Although we share the same month,
almost the same date, and the same name, we are extremely different, yet we are
very close.
Many
times we were in the same class from elementary school to high school. We were in second and fourth grade
homeroom together. We had the same
history class in 8th grade, the same English class in 9th
grade, and then the same Children’s Literature class in 12th grade.
By the time we were in our sophomore year of high school, Jesse was in almost
every honor’s class while I stayed behind and suffered from my learning
disability.
Jesse
was perfect in every way. He had
an advantage over me, especially being a white male while I am a minority
female. I knew that would help him
in life since he would never have to face being persecuted as a woman or a
minority. The world will be easier
on him then it will to me. I was
called every mean word in the dictionary for being a female minority. Slut, whore, spic, and the list can
keep going. In elementary school I was teased for my Hispanic heritage, often
being called “cleaning lady”.
Today Jesse has a job at the I.T. department where his father works
while I work with other Hispanics at Dunkin Donuts. I love my job but I do not want people to think that I am an
illegal alien who does not speak English.
The truth is, I never learned Spanish except in school. I was adopted by a white family and
grew up in the United States all my life.
But despite all that, people will always see me as a dirty illegal alien
who probably has three to five kids already and never went to school or learned
English. But when someone sees
Jesse, they see an intelligent young man.
A white young man who can share a purpose in the world where whites are
the ruling class. This is one of
the realities I have seen since I was a child.
Jesse wears glasses because he has bad
eye site. That’s the only medical
problem I can think of that he has.
Not me. I too have eye site
problems but that’s not even the beginning. I was diagnosed with depression at seventeen and I have
PCOS, which caused me to become pre diabetic. I take pills every day and every few months the doctor has to
take my blood for testing. I see a
pediatric specialist, psychiatrists, and a therapist. Along with an eye doctor and sometimes an ear doctor due to
my hearing disorder. My life has
been full of doctors since I was fourteen, almost fifteen years old. I hate getting tests and I had it when
needles are put into me and I’m stuck wondering if my sugar level went up or
down. Just recently I discovered
that my liver is not doing good and now I have to worry about that as
well. Jesse has eye problems and
needs to wear glasses. He’s lucky;
he does not have to worry about his liver, ear, and sugar level along with his
eye site. Again, he’s perfect
because those medical bills are not rising for him. He’s probably going to live longer then me too.
Jesse is gifted. Always getting A’s since we were young,
being in KQ (knowledge quest) a class for gifted kids in elementary and middle
school, and getting in to many honor courses in high school. He is very intelligent and smart. He is the perfect student. He never misses classes (unless he is
sick or family emergencies), gets the work done, participates, and studies. In our freshmen English class he was
able to memorize all 80-vocabulary words and in junior year got a perfect score
on the math part of the SAT’s. He
is a truly gifted child that any parent or teacher would be proud of. I’m the exact opposite of gifted.
In many of my courses in school I
barely passed and this goes as far back as elementary school. “She just barely made it,” I remember
my teachers telling my mother. It
made me upset and at first I did not understand until I was older. While Jesse was placed in KQ, I was
placed in special reading and writing courses. In middle school I was put in a special math course. By the time I was in high school we
discovered my learning disability of dyslexia. In school I did not do well on exams, I got a 1250 on my
SAT, I barely passed many of my courses, and in junior year I decided to give
up. If Jesse was the kid and
student that everyone wanted, then I was the kid and student that no one
wanted. If Jesse is gifted and
special, then I am nothing.
Today
Jesse and I visited our old high school.
Before leaving, Jesse and I visited one of my favorite teachers. Jesse had him in his senior year of
high school and I had him twice during high school. We talked for a while but somehow I could tell that my
favorite teacher admired Jesse more than me. Despite looking up to him, having him twice as a teacher,
going to him for help, and trying to prove to him that I’m doing well in
college, he looks pass me for Jesse. The teacher I admire most and the only one who connected with me in
high school, favors Jesse above me although he knows very little about
Jesse. He’s not the only teacher
who favors Jesse, many of the other teachers we had together or had at the same
time also favor Jesse above me. I’m like Jesse’s shadow
and Jesse is the body. Jesse is
physically there, while I am there as a see through. They all acknowledge Jesse but no one acknowledges me. Jesse is special, gifted, healthy, and
someone to be proud of. Then there
is me, nothing. Just an average
student who does not exists in the world or among the people who I look up to and
see as heroes. It makes me sad and
disappointed in myself.
No, I do not hate Jesse. I envy him and I am proud of him
too. I’m happy to be his friend
and when I was down and sad he was always there. He’s a great friend and I would not ask for another. Everyone that we know, especially in
school, acknowledge Jesse and are proud of him while no one says anything to me
except for one person: Jesse. Only
Jesse knows how hard I’ve tried and I know that he is proud of me. But I know that and I want others to be
proud of me as well. But I learned
that when everyone does not acknowledge or care about you, its difficult and
hard in the world. But that one
person, who does see you for a person and not a shadow, is worth dying
for.
Jesse was born lucky.
I was lucky to be born.
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