At an early age I discovered that as humans we create our own limits. Naturally, we push these limits and boundaries until we break through, and then create a new "impossible" that can "never be achieved." This cycle continues for the entirety of our short lives. These limits created by the human mind are what define our comfort zones. They separate the visionaries from the doers, the dreamers from the go-getters.
As a child I could be anything. No limits. I could become the first female president, a famous pop star or a journalist for the New York Times. The fictional world I created for myself cushioned me from reality, sheltering me from the monotonous world of adults. I went through many stages, as most children do. My dreams changed with time and I soon realized that maybe there was such a thing as impossible.
Kids have it right-- they believe they can do anything. Children have no limits. This changes as a child enters adulthood. The realization that there are many things that are impossible transforms innocent young minds into practiced logical thinkers. It is true, many things are impossible, however adults create these impossible limits, and little do many of them know, the limits are all in their heads.
In the third grade, I was a dreamer. I refused to write my full name in fear that when I became famous my teachers would sell my signature for money. Becoming famous was never a question in my young mind. I would become a singer/song-writer and the whole world would know my name. No one told me this could not happen. I was always encouraged to pursue my dreams.
In eighth grade, I became a realist. Money was one of my top priorities and happiness my last. It seems like a young age for such a transformation, however the world adults create is both alluring and compelling making it nearly impossible to escape. I understood that I could never be famous. In a world filled with billions of unique individuals, how could Mikayla Mallett from the small state of New Hampshire be well known? I had a dream to become an artist after my singing phase ended. Dreams like this do not last long in the cruel adult world-- they are quickly dismissed as frivolous ideas that will never amount to anything.
Eighth grade was both my first year as an adult as well as my last. This was the second year I had Mrs. Szeliga as my English teacher. My seventh grade year was her first year teaching at Lincoln Akerman Elementary School, as it was my first year attending. This commonality bonded us in a unique way -- an unlikely friendship formed where I had least expected it. The reason eighth grade was my last year as an adult was because of the speech Mrs. Szeliga gave to our class at graduation. These words were something I would never forget as they transformed my life.
"Most people are surprised when I say I teach seventh and eighth grade. They ask me 'why' and 'how' could I teach such an awkward age group. I then explain to them that seventh grade and eighth grade are beautiful years. This is an age where kids are young enough that they believe they can do anything, but old enough where they are able to start to make their dreams a reality."
I realized how wrong adults are in their silly world filled with limits and boundaries. Children are too quick to enter this world, too eager to leave behind their dreams. I realized in eighth grade that being young and having dreams is a beautiful thing, and something that should never be lost.
