Memoir Draft 3

Little kids will lie. They will lie about the candy they ate before dinner, they will lie about the number of hours they spent watching TV, and they definitely will lie about whether or not they brushed their teeth. However, although it is unfavorable to exercise the frustrating interrogation that follows a child’s lie, often times it is when they tell the truth that the most damage is done. Children can be brutally honest because of their complete lack of awareness regarding societal norms, and unfortunately, I’ve been on the receiving end on more than one occasion.

“You’re really pretty.” I looked down at a seven-year-old girl’s cheerful face beaming up at me. “Aw that’s so sweet, but you are the prettiest!” I told her. “…But you have a bunch of bumps on your face, why do you have that?” Her words hit like a jab to the side. Another instance was when we were sitting on the couch watching a movie while I let her play with my hair. Sometimes she would climb on my shoulders or grab onto my arms. On this particular occasion she was grabbing onto my arms and, unconcerned with the implications of her words, said to me,“You have jiggly arms like my mom,”and then proceeded to play with my arm. I responded awkwardly with a forced smile and suggested we kept watching the movie. She was just seven years old and yet had managed to pick out every single one of my insecurities, oblivious to the searing impact it had on my very young and fragile mind. I had to remind myself that I was the mature one now which was a good thing. She was just a kid.

At a young age, my babysitter, Maria, was my idol, but I remember ‘crossing the line’ as a child and learning what was and was not appropriate. We would mess around and play fight a lot but whenever she really had to pee I would sit on her belly, directly above her bladder, and not only make her have to pee more, but I was physically impeding her from going to the bathroom. I never thought that this particular situation might seem ‘not okay’ or ‘inappropriate.’ To me it was just extremely funny: I saw no boundaries. When I told her things like, “You know, your teeth are kind of crooked,” I had no concept of what was offensive or impolite, it was just facts. Every once in awhile she conducted a short, stern talk, but she was understanding as I slowly learned. I loved being silly and she loved me.

Nevertheless, eventually there comes a time in life when you realize that you have made ‘the switch’ from being a child to being somewhat of an adult, whether it’s gradual or all of a sudden. Sometimes there are blurred lines which make it difficult to operate as a person because you want the freedom of childhood without the pressures of adulthood; the privileges of age but not the consequences. Soon you learn to think critically instead of irrationally, and this switch happened all of a sudden for me. I knew I wasn’t a kid anymore when middle school came along and I realized that I was, indeed, in charge of my future. I knew I wasn’t a kid anymore when I got my driver’s license and learned what it meant to be responsible for my own life and the lives of those around me. I learned I wasn’t a kid anymore when I went from having a babysitter to being the babysitter.

All these experiences, not just one, have taught me what it means to truly think about how what I say and do impacts my life, and how these decisions influence others as well. I think critically when I decide how to respond and react to the little girl looking up at me who knew nothing about the effect of her words. I think critically when I flip on the turn signal and check my blind spot. I think critically when I choose how to balance my time and what will further help me to succeed in the future. I remember how much I looked up to my babysitter, and now I believe a part of growing up and learning to think critically is also a part of becoming a leader and role model for others. I am who I am because of those who shaped me, and now I believe I am ready to do the same for others.