How I Found Myself While Factoring

My turn was fast approaching, two desks away. I rambled through my mind quickly. Running? Dancing? Swimming? Anything I said would be a lie. Mr. Hilson peered out from the seating chart held abnormally close to his face. I saw a pair of grayed eyes directed toward my desk. “I work at a coffee shop,” I said with a hint of an upward inflection. Mr. Hilson carried on to the next student. A wave of hot relief passed me as I looked around the classroom, a series of stolid faces. Why was this more difficult than polynomial long division?
See, the first day of my algebra three class we were asked to label ourselves. Either you were a band geek, or a track star, or a theatre techie. It was intended to be a harmless activity to remember the thirty-something kids in the class (even though he only could remember half two months into school). The problem was I hadn’t figured out my label. Growing up, my parents presented me every opportunity to become a “well-rounded person”. They gave me swim lessons, because I was terrified of water. They enrolled me in dance, because I was clumsy. Then there was the three year spanse of softball, soccer and basketball. After realizing I didn’t enjoy any type of sport (or was very good at any for that matter), I took piano and acting clinics. But still, I hadn’t found my niche.
Now, I was sitting in a room full of athletes and artists wondering why I was singled out. Grumpily, I sat through the rest of class off-task looking at all the sport jerseys: lady’s lax, escadrille, swimming. All were well represented advertisements for their sports, and without the lettering on the back of their shirts I wouldn’t be able to tell who was who.
I could feel my eyelids flash open allowing my eyes to see the light. The nicknames we gave ourselves were all shallow labels none of which truly represented each person. Just because she sang in choir, didn’t mean she was a good listener. And simply because he played baseball, didn’t mean he was confident. We were all different people containing sixteen to eighteen years of life waiting for many more. I have plenty left to discover and develop my skill. For now, however, I am satisfied knowing merely what Kelley stands for. Although the incident in algebra three has long since been forgotten, I’d like to retract my first answer. I urge you not to identify me as the local barista. Rather, remember me as a genuine, caring and loyal individual, who just is.