Just For Kicks
Robert Cartwright
22 September, 2004
Narrative Essay
ENC1101
Although I wouldn’t describe myself as a know-it-all, I’m quite confident in saying that I know everything. Most people would believe this to be true simply because of the suffix added to my age, but I like to think that everything defines what I know, and what everyone else does not. It’s sad to think most teenagers are stereotyped as punk kids or rotten pupils, especially as we try to grow through our adolescence and develop character. It’s funny how elders try to argue with my decisions as I mature; after all, I am the teenager, and I know everything.
Hire a teenager while they still know everything. It was amazing how many people would laugh at the dull joke, no matter how many times my dad would throw it around. It seemed to be the slogan for parents unwilling to indulge themselves into their child, who was now growing up and fighting opinions. Slowly it became my punch line, the word vomit unleashed in pointless arguments of cleaning my room and leaving the light on. My grandfather would scold me for sarcastic, smart remarks proving him wrong. I was too smart for my own good, even when I received my permit and started correcting mistakes of other drivers. It could have been my way to assert myself, to find my place in the world. My family wouldn’t have it; I was unmistakably an insufferable teenage know-it-all.
By luck of the draw, I was placed in a creative writing class during my junior year of high school. I was already a bookworm averaging at least a book at week, so writing came natural to me. After learning the basic make up of poetry and prose, writing became the guide to my emotional control. I was placed in an advanced journalism class the following year, where I began to attack the social and political problems existing within my life. It was in this class “the teenager poem” was born.
From lines boasting intelligence and wisdom to statements mocking stereotypical guidelines for popularity, “I Know Everything” touched on problems I, and evidently, many other teenagers experienced. I touched on a subject that everyone around me could relate to, and through that idea, I began to define myself as a writer. In the following weeks, the poem was published in the school’s magazine, and one student went as far as to get me to sign the poem.
“I know why the grass is greener on the other side, because your too concerned with it. I know why cows give milk and not juice, because I make them. I know why the sky is blue, I just don’t want to tell you. I know the secret to life, it’s just irrelevant to living.” Through this poem I began to call myself a writer, perhaps because I knew everything.
22 September, 2004
Narrative Essay
ENC1101
Although I wouldn’t describe myself as a know-it-all, I’m quite confident in saying that I know everything. Most people would believe this to be true simply because of the suffix added to my age, but I like to think that everything defines what I know, and what everyone else does not. It’s sad to think most teenagers are stereotyped as punk kids or rotten pupils, especially as we try to grow through our adolescence and develop character. It’s funny how elders try to argue with my decisions as I mature; after all, I am the teenager, and I know everything.
Hire a teenager while they still know everything. It was amazing how many people would laugh at the dull joke, no matter how many times my dad would throw it around. It seemed to be the slogan for parents unwilling to indulge themselves into their child, who was now growing up and fighting opinions. Slowly it became my punch line, the word vomit unleashed in pointless arguments of cleaning my room and leaving the light on. My grandfather would scold me for sarcastic, smart remarks proving him wrong. I was too smart for my own good, even when I received my permit and started correcting mistakes of other drivers. It could have been my way to assert myself, to find my place in the world. My family wouldn’t have it; I was unmistakably an insufferable teenage know-it-all.
By luck of the draw, I was placed in a creative writing class during my junior year of high school. I was already a bookworm averaging at least a book at week, so writing came natural to me. After learning the basic make up of poetry and prose, writing became the guide to my emotional control. I was placed in an advanced journalism class the following year, where I began to attack the social and political problems existing within my life. It was in this class “the teenager poem” was born.
From lines boasting intelligence and wisdom to statements mocking stereotypical guidelines for popularity, “I Know Everything” touched on problems I, and evidently, many other teenagers experienced. I touched on a subject that everyone around me could relate to, and through that idea, I began to define myself as a writer. In the following weeks, the poem was published in the school’s magazine, and one student went as far as to get me to sign the poem.
“I know why the grass is greener on the other side, because your too concerned with it. I know why cows give milk and not juice, because I make them. I know why the sky is blue, I just don’t want to tell you. I know the secret to life, it’s just irrelevant to living.” Through this poem I began to call myself a writer, perhaps because I knew everything.