I remember it clearly- that fourth period history class. Mr..
or any similar topic only for you
Reilly was pacing along the front of the classroom in such a straight line that he could have been only walking on the cracks of the title floor. Somehow he was trying to consider the best possible way to explain the relationship between society’s proclaimed geniuses and natural talent in relation to the artists of the Italian Renaissance. We were studying the works of Michelangelo and Leonardo Ad Vinci as well as their significance in history.
He began with the statues created by Michelangelo which led to the discussion about social interaction and mental capabilities of “geniuses” in modern and ancient societies. It was noticed that those with superior skills in one element such as art. Music or academics, usually lack the experience and expertise in social interaction or other elements of life. The conversation then proceeded to contemplate the idea that without proper encouragement and nourishment of these talents, how are they ever supposed to flourish? T was with this question that he began to move into the main point of this lesson. “Who is the greatest artist of all time? ” As Mr.. Reilly asked this of us, he began to unroll his tangled arrangement of fourteenth century maps that dangled from the white board the classroom and pointed directly to where modern day Russia is now. Again he asked the sleepy teenagers of his fourth period class as if there was a totally obvious answer. He said, “It is some little unknown farming working in the family fields. No one will know her name or remember her eave, but she had a gift.
She sat under a tree and drew elaborate drawings of her surroundings until he was caught and made to return to the frills. She never had a chance. ” Every person is special; they just need to guidance and power to prove it. What he said never really affected me until I got home that night and thought about the little girl; however, I knew in class that day that what he was saying to us would become important in some way or another. The potential for greatness is in everyone. Without harnessing that greatness, no one would succeed. Everyone is special.
This was a lesson most children learn, but for me, it never registered. “l am not good enough. How could I be special in some way? All I can do is trace a picture from my computer and, if done right, pass it off as my own work to my friends or keep just good enough grades in each class to keep my A average. How can there be nothing that was good at? Everything that I could do in life was mediocre. ” had thought that nothing in my life was ever going to make me stand out from everyone else but honestly… I was just afraid of being globed together with society and being lost in the public image.
Afraid to stand apart from everyone else. Terrified that my life would continue to be nothing out of the ordinary. Too scared to try. That there was nothing about me that me special. Took only that four hours. Six minutes and thirty-two seconds to realize that all that insecurity did not matter. To think that there was nothing special about me was incorrect. That negative path of thought was wrong from foundation to delivery. I realized that what separated me from everyone else has always been my drive to be better, to try new things, to work harder than everyone else in the room.
Art or music or academics may not be my strongest attributes in the game of life but that does not mean that the game can not be played. To be a “genius” or “talented” is supper overrated. I am me- perfectly imperfect. My love for languages and foreign cultures, blossoming into my goal of becoming an interpreter is my talent. This dream of pursuing a life engulfed in language, culture and history is what makes me similar to that little unknown farm girl. Without realizing it, my teacher gave me the spark I needed to pursue my goals. Surprisingly, this revelation occurred in under five minutes.