â€śShe doesnâ€™t try,â€ť â€śShe must not want to get good grades,â€ť â€śSheâ€™s just lazy.â€ť Thatâ€™s what my parents and teachers always thought about me. Every time a report came home my mom would give that sigh, that look, and then of course â€“ the speech.
â€śI just donâ€™t understand. Why donâ€™t you do your homework?â€ť she would ask.
â€śI donâ€™t know,â€ť I would reply, every time.
â€śWhat do you mean you donâ€™t know?â€ť
â€śâ€¦I just donâ€™t know.â€ť
I wasnâ€™t exactly a bad student; I just never did my homework. I always paid attention in class and got good grades on tests. Whenever I did turn in an assignment or project, I aced it. Without regularly turning in my homework, however, my grades were consistently low. My mother never believed me when I said that I â€śdidnâ€™t know.â€ť The truth is: I didnâ€™t. I would sit down and try to do the work, with my book and papers and pens and pencils and everything else that I needed. The work just never got done. I really tried, and I wanted to do well. I hated being the one that never had a paper to pass to the person on my left. I have no idea what went through my mind when I sat down to do the work. Shouldnâ€™t I think about what happened last time I skipped my homework? Shouldnâ€™t I remember all the times I got grounded for it, and how much I hate not having my work during class the next day? Shouldnâ€™t I remember how embarrassing it is when my friends compare grades and Iâ€™m the only one who doesnâ€™t want to say?
My family began calling me apathetic. My teachers had given up trying to help me remember to do my homework. Everyone thought that I just didnâ€™t want to do it. They were all sick of being confused, and so was I. So I began to believe them. I couldnâ€™t figure it out for myself, so I let other people figure it out for me, and wound up depressed. My self-esteem dropped. I thought I was defective or stupid, even when my standardi...