Descriptive Essay.

Annisa Ahmed

    “James?” The brunette glanced in her direction, emotionless.
    “Here.”
    “Natalie?”
    “Present, Ms. Hartford,” she said, cheerfully.
    “Thank you, Natalie.”
    “I left you an apple on your desk.”
    “Thank you, Natalie.”
    Showoff.
    “Umm... Anisa.”
    “It’s Annisa,” I growl.
    “That’s what I said, honey, Anisa.” She repeats slowly as if I’m the idiot.
    “Annisa.”
    “Anisa.”
    I huff. “Never mind. Forget it.” She nods and continues to call roll.
    Two years... And, she still doesn’t get my name right. I sit up front. I do all of my homework. And, I never get in trouble. And, yet, somehow, whenever roll is called or my hand raises to answer a question, A-nis-sa is all I ever here. I wonder if it’s because of her Southern accent. Or, maybe she’s too stubborn to admit she’s wrong and actually try to say my name correctly. Or, maybe, because she’s an alien. And, though it is really hard change something that you have already become accustom to, some just don’t try. They believe that it’s difficult and that their way is the only way and change isn’t something that comes easily, especially without the effort. I always believed that Ms. Hartford was one of those people... Although, her being an alien in disguise seems promising.
    According to the Merriam-Webstar Dictionary, change is to become different. But, to me, it’s much more than that. The average Joe, which in this case, is James. His name is ideal here in America and that saying it correctly comes naturally to the tongue. Natalie, however, earned her way up, showering Ms. Hartford with a number of gifts, such as apples and an a high squeaky voice, in order to change her name from Natalia back to Natalie. She in no way did anything to provoke Ms. Hartford and yet, her name was pronounced wrongly because of how Ms. Hartford was taught it. My name is both Arab and Muslim and some people are just prone to saying wrong. But, my former teacher probably just believed that it was pronounced Anisa. And, all I did was nag her about it when she called my name. I did not attempt to break the ice with Ms. Hartford, which why she did not make an effort to correct my name.
    When I was trying to get to her to change name, I should have been trying harder to get my grades up. See, I never was a good student. Ever since I was a kid, I never saw a point in education. I never put forth the effort. I never saw a reason to.
    “And, the winner of the Spelling Bee is... Hannah!”
    The whole class shouted, cheered and whistled as Hannah took the stage. She bowed and I was left forgotten. She thanked our teacher, Mr. Gannon for the extra sessions only she had received even though all of us participated the competition. She thanked her classmates for their support, as to which, the they started another round of applause. She smiled, as though she expected nothing less. News was made; the third grader, Hannah Corney had won the annual T.I.E.S. Spelling Bee Competition. She was given a trophy and was carried throughout the crowd, laughing like this was the best thing that happened to her. Even when she won every year. She caught my eye and waved her hand in a gesture to join her. I shook my head and turned my head before she could get a glance at my watering eyes. And, I, the runner up to the Spelling Bee, walked out.
    I had tried to motivate myself and thought that maybe a little competition could be the boost that I needed to help me in academics. But, I was wrong, as I always at that age. Instead of helping me, losing in things like Spelling Bees gave me the idea that I would always be the loser in both educational and lively standards. I felt though I was setting myself up to fail and knew I just couldn’t to do it. I wanted to change, but, honestly, how much commitment would an eight year old have. Not much. And, besides, in my mind, if I knew I would eventually fail, what was the use in trying in the first place.
    It wasn’t because I didn’t try because I did. It just I was trying to do it for myself, but the thing is I really did not want. Just my like old English teacher, I did not have a need to change. I had no reason to have motivation and that was my downfall. Instead of trying to become the best that I could be, I was trying to be something that couldn’t be. My need, my thirst for change was different then what I needed, my reasoning in becoming something such as the Spelling Bee champion was only because I wanted my name printed in the school newspaper. I was not desperate enough to change, not strong enough to see what was right in front on me.
    I should have been Natalie. Despite how I felt about it, I knew I wanted to have what she accomplished; her name said correctly. She cared enough to go and make effort by showing up early every morning with the bright smile on her face, shiny red apple in hand. Or like Hannah, who had her heart set on winning the competition the moment it was announced over the loud speaker. Who went out of her way to make sure every word’s was spelling was branded into her brain, instead of being just average. Like me.
    My reason to change... well, that’s just it. I didn’t have one. I felt that I should that should just have been the things I wanted, handed to me on a silver platter without me working hard to earn what I supposedly thought I deserved. Change is something I needed to make, I just didn’t see how.