First Day of School, Take 3

I really don't mind moving that much. Over the years, I've gotten used to it. My family and I have moved like, seven times already (I just counted), and some people have moved even more than that.
     But moving in the middle of the school year? No. That's not okay with me.
     Unfortunately, I didn't really have a say in the matter when my family moved to New York City at the end of September this year. I was very, very upset.
     The school that I attend is very different from other NORMAL schools. Instead of you going to classes with different people every time, it is very elementary. You travel to your classes with the same people. Same. Freaking. People.
      Anyway. On my first day of the school that I currently attend, they assigned me to a certain class. So I was like, "Okay." It didn't really matter much to me.
      But pretty quickly I figured out that the things they were doing in class were much too easy for me. Naturally, since I am extremely studious and very conscientious , I went straight up to my teacher and said, "Dude I did this stuff two years ago."
      He asked me what my state test scores were. Since he was my math teacher, I told him my math state test score, which was very high.
      "Wow," he said. "What about your Literacy score?"
      Blushing, I answered, "Perfect score. 100%."
      "Wow." That teacher must have gotten to work, because I was only in that class for four days. On my fifth day, I was assigned to a new class during second period. I was told, "Oh, you're too smart for the class that you're in. You have to go to this class."
      I was very pissed, because while I did not know a soul in that new class, I knew a few people in the one that I was already in, and made a friend (ish).
     I stayed in that class for a while. But that class was terrible. The kids were the worst kids that I had ever encountered. (Remember my previous posts that included Doreen and Ricky? Yeah, those people are from that class) They were rude, ignorant, stupid, yet apprently they were the smartest children of the school, not counting SP, which is the smart class (SP does work from our grade and the next grade). I did not like this class very much, even though I made great, awesome friends. Some of these kids read picture books. Picture books. How was I supposed to learn in a class with classmates that read "The Magic Finger" by Roald Dahl. HOW?
    I kept fighting for it. I told my parents my problem. They kept fighting for it. One by one, my teachers figured out that I didn't belong in their class. First it was my English teacher, who told me that I definitely needed to be more challenged in class. We talked for an hour and a half about me transfering to SP. I was kind of "iffy" about it, because math is my worst (WORST) subject, and I kind of suck at it. If I went to SP, it would be even harder.
    My Yearbook/Journalism teacher was next. After reading a paper I wrote for her Yearbook class (where we do all sorts of non-Yearbook related activites), she said that I need to go to SP.
     And then Science. My science teacher said (and I quote), "You really need to get the hell out of here. This class is definitely not for you. Are the grades you get in here like the grades you get everywhere else?"
      I nodded. "My parents talked to the guidance counselor--"
      She shook her head. "Don't go to the guidance counselor. I shouldn't be telling you this, but go to Mr. Bernom."
      "Mr. Bernom?" I repeated.
      She nodded, turning her head this way and that as if the guidance counselor was going to pop out of nowhere and say, "YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO TELLING HER THAT!"
       And then, my math teacher said the same thing about me going to SP.
       And well, it was a while before anything happened. But I found out later from my science teacher that it was official. I was part of SP. They were going to notify me ina few days. It was, as my science teacher called it, a "done deal."
       As happy that I was that I was going to recieve a good education again, I was kind of heartbroken to be leaving my good friends, and kind of nervous to be facing the competitive, smart, snobby students in SP, the top 30 kids out of the 550 children in my entire grade. You fought for SP, and when you got in, you had to keep up the good work or they'd send you back into a dumb class.
      Monday.
      This past Monday was my first day in SP. It was the first day of school, take 3. The first day of school all over again. New classmates, new teachers, new schedule, new everything. I was nervous as hell.
      I think it went rather well. The kids were mostly civilized. There were a few snobby people who thought they were the smartest in the world. But the thing that bothered me the most was how the fact that this was an SP class was the center of everything.
      "Well, I would make you sign your name, but this is an SP class, so..."
      "4 homeworks missing? But isn't this an SP class?"
      "Since you guys are in SP..."
      These kids are constantly reminded one way or the other that they're the smartest, the best, the sugar of the school. And the teachers aren't helping the matter either.
      "Being lazy won't work in an SP class," My math teacher said wisely. "Lately there's been a lot of switching in and out of SP (There was already a switch before I came in, so everyone is very tense now, in fear that they may be the ones forced to leave SP), so you all have to work hard. Already two people have left. In fact, there's a whole lineup of people that could be in SP, people that are willing to do the extra hard work and are very bright. If you don't do your work, I will gladly put them in here instead of you."
      That snapped everyone's attention.
      Anyway. Why did I share this whole story to you guys? Cause I have no friends and feel like talking to someone? Because I want to brag about how I got into SP? Because I like boring people to death?
      The reason I shared this story is to show you that even the smallest of things is worth fighting for. And if you fight hard enough for it, something will happen. You may luck out and achieve your goal as I did, or something else may happen. Whatever the case, don't sit around lazy and give up like that. I care a lot about my education, and that's why I chose to keep fighting for a better class.
      I hope I gave some of youse inspiration. My friend Azima is trying harder in school because of what I did. I feel special. :D