Don't Be Fooled By My Appearance

Due to my height, people never guess my age correctly, and the age they guess isn’t near my real age. When I say I am only 16 years old, everyone, whether my peers or adults, without exception, exclaimed, “The girl of 6 feet is only 16 years old!” However, my real age did not change people’s stereotypes about me. Without deep relationships, I was an introvert in front of my elders and my peers, so people thought I was a mature, gentle and dignified girl. But the truth was the opposite. I became mischievous when I was with my good friends. These natural expressions of my personality were in stark contrast to the impression others had of me. Teachers and classmates would be surprised by my mischievousness. Because I was unconsciously acting differently, it made me questioned whether I was different when I was with different people. I questioned whether I should give up my mischievous side to be a gentle girl who matches my height for others. Thankfully, with the encouragement of my parent and my close friends, I found confidence in the contrast between my inside part and my appearance.

In elementary school, my attention span lasted only 20 minutes out of a 45-minute class from the first to the sixth grade. I was focused on the first half of class when my teachers praised me as a model student. After the first half of the class, although my eyes still looked at the teachers, my mind floated out of the window. After about twenty minutes it felt like there were nails in the chair, so I couldn't help turning left or looking right. However, I've never been caught by a teacher for not listening carefully because I was able to fidget when the teacher wrote notes on the blackboard. After getting bored, I could start chatting quietly with my tablemates or pass notes to my friends. If the students were not interested in passing notes, they would be distracted by my food.

The canteen meals in my elementary school were hard to eat, to say the least; they were filling rather than delicious. I loved fruit and often ate them as my meal. Schools in China don't allow snacks or fruit, but I snuck it anyway. My math teacher had bad hearing, so I would sneak a fruit snack. Even though the math teacher heard people eating, he could not find where the noise came from. One time, unfortunately, I lost the battle. As he turned to write the problem, I picked two big, round, juicy grapes and popped them in my mouth. I was about to savor the deliciousness when I heard my name: "How did you do the last problem?" I slowly looked up, two grapes bulging in my cheeks like a squirrel storing hazelnuts. The math teacher was surprised that I ate food during classes. I was battling with him about eating food in class and challenging his impression of me. He became angry and demanded I eat the grapes even though I wanted to spit them out. Sixty pairs of eyes watched as I quickly chomped the grapes and swallowed. It took about ten seconds, but it was the longest ten seconds of my life.

Although I made a fool of myself, I didn't take the matter to heart. I didn’t question myself until a student made a comment to me. After class, a girl found me and said, “How dare you eat grapes in front of the math teacher? I thought you were the most attentive student in the class.” I froze because I didn’t realize others thought I was listening carefully. Do I really look that obedient? She explained, “You are the tallest girl I have ever seen, so I thought you would be more mature than other girls.” Again, my height gave others the wrong impression.

I didn’t realize that my appearance reflected what people thought I should be. I examined myself and hesitated about whether I should change to behave like a gentle girl. To my surprise, the girl wanted to be friends because the distinction between my height and mischievousness made me “brave and cute.” My friends also told me they loved me because I was unique. I was comforted by this and started to see the contrast positively.

When I got to middle school, I didn't dare disturb class because of the increased pressure of the curriculum, so I expanded my naughty energy to the ten-minute break between classes. The bell was a wake-up call for me—not a shock, but a wonderful time I used to socialize. I wandered around the academic building floor because I had friends in every class and spent my time catching up with everyone. I ran down from the third to the first floor and visited each class among five classrooms. Sometimes I ran to be on time for my next class.

Being so tall, any movement I made was abrupt and noticeable. One time, I was caught by my English teacher when I ran laughing loudly in the hallway. She couldn’t believe that I was the one who made the crazy loud laugh. Regarding parent-teacher conferences, my English teacher privately met with my parents. She said I was like an obedient rabbit because I was the class manager and the tallest girl, but she described me wandering in the hallway as foraging like a flamingo. In Chinese schools, teachers assume the ten-minute break is a treasure for students to ask questions or review notes. In contrast, I did the opposite, which was chatting with friends. At the time, I thought she was being unfair as an irritable middle-aged woman, or perhaps she was making fun of my height.

This was the second time I examined my appearance, leading others to misinterpret my personality. I was frustrated, and kept asking myself: Should I change who I am? Or should I express my real self? Although my grades and friendship weren’t affected by my mischief, it was challenging to deal with people’s shocked reactions. Thankfully my parents assisted me in overcoming this worry: my mom comforted me that people’s surprise would help them learn about my unique heart; my dad taught me to view the problem from a different angle and encouraged me to be true to myself. I found the confidence to be myself instead of changing to conform to what others thought I should be.

To add to the scholarly atmosphere of the campus, my junior high school built four statues in the common square—two of them are mathematician Euclid and literary scholar Tagore; the other two are Chinese philosophers Confucius and scientist Zu Chongzhi. This revered space and scenic route to the academic hallways could not escape my mischief. Chinese people will worship Buddha to ensure peace and good luck before important events. In the same way, before the final exam, I wanted to wish myself good luck on the exam. Without considering other reactions, I wanted those four statuses to bless me. I didn’t have money, so I bought Ritz chips for them. When I finish cleaning the classroom, I went to the common square and worshipped three times in front of each statue, saying, “I wish to get a 100 in math and 90 in English…" After that, I offered two chips per four great people one by one. “No one saw me. I am the smartest person!” I thought with satisfaction.

Unfortunately, by the time I came to school the next day, there was food on the stages of every sculpture. Chips, drinks, fried chicken from the cafeteria, and even coins lay in front of each statue. I was shocked by the scene, but I felt proud and believed people who worshipped would get desirable grades. At that time, I didn’t realize the influence around the school until the principal addressed such “chaos” as the common square filled up with irrelevant items. However, I still thought it showed students were eager to prepare for exams. Putting the principal’s announcement behind me, I confidently shared my great contribution to the school atmosphere with my classmates. Teachers and other students thought mischievous boys did it. They couldn’t believe their ears when they heard I was the first-person worshipping. One teacher even said my height and performance in classes deceived her.

I met people’s exaggerated shocks for the third time. But this time, I regarded this as an opportunity to show who I really am. Encouraged by friends and parents, I was proud of my mature exterior and naughty interior. Some students wanted to be friends with me because they were attracted by the distinction between their first impression and my real personality.

Indeed, being tall among my peers, I have been described as "gentle and demure" in front of adults and unfamiliar people. In contrast, I experienced surprising others, frustration, and even the decision to give up who I am. From these experiences I’ve learned to be confident and proud of the difference between mischievousness and gentleness. Similarly, I won’t be affected by unfamiliar people’s opinions, because some of people’s misinterpretation reveal my uniqueness. This supports me in overcoming challenges and motivates me to move forward.