Inspired by Sherman Alexie “Superman and Me”

This tale may be interesting enough itself. A young and scholarly teenager defying the odds of the tight-knit society that’s lived in today. She flies through books bigger than the 585 paged Moby Dick where the others can’t finish the Magic Tree House. She argues her point no matter the audience, and if she was anyone else in this twisted world, she’d be walked all over like a doormat at the front door. But she’s not, and she’s simply an oddity. She grows into a writer who tells powerful stories in The Mustang newspaper, and often or not refers to herself in third-person to seek a more meaningful and modest way to talk about her successes and goals.

A smart and strong teenage woman has fear written in its name already, always watched and ridiculed by men and the “superiors” of society. I hid my accomplishments day by day as a child. They wanted me to stay invisible when I was born to stand out, and when the teacher asked a question, I was dying to answer and shoot my hand up, but I couldn’t. They were trying to push me down and to never get up. We’re seen as the weaker sex no matter the time periods we grow up in. Most have fallen into the crowd and submitted themselves to the cold hearted world and the regulations along with it. They could recall the lyrics to Justin Bieber’s song Baby, but couldn’t grasp the central ideas of the reading. They were mute in all of their advanced classes, but could ramble on and gossip to their friends in the hallways. They would purposefully look in the opposite direction when called on by the teacher but would choose to act dumb and clueless when confronted by a cute boy in their class. As girls, we’re expected to fail and be the weaker sex of the world. Those who failed to follow this stereotype were frowned upon versus those being praised for coming to the males at every beck and call.

I refused to follow their path. I was defiant. I was intelligent. I was hopeful. I stood up for myself day and night to the point where it was even at my own house. I refused to give up with my schoolwork and in the time after, I refused to lose control of myself in my sports. I refused to withhold the responsibilities I held versus my brother. During hangouts, I refused to take “no” as the answer when the boys were playing football. I refused to let my teachers separate us between girls and boys during activities in recess and in class. I refused to be pushed over in society. I refused to be used as a pawn to a so called king. I refused hearing the words “can’t” or “like a girl”. I refused to see the differences between us that were skin deep, color oriented, or gender bound. I refused to listen to my brother’s friends. I refused to wear clothes that made me look like a girl. I refused to wear makeup. I refused anything that made me feel different from the guys. I refused whether it was easy or difficult. I loved being myself and just myself, but I also knew that being my own character meant much more. I was trying to end the endless stereotype of girls being incapable. I was trying to find my place.