Childhood Progression Desiree Loyola

Although I was just playing with Barbie Dolls, I managed to apply rudimentary math skills at the age of four. “How many pairs of Barbie shoes did you just put away?” I attentively counted by twos and shouted out, “Six pairs, mom!” The utilization of my at-home knowledge was eminent. At this age, I was Matilda. Everything I aspired to be - smart and intellectual, I hoped to follow in her footsteps. As Matilda surprised her class by knowing her two times tables, I surprised myself by being able to combine playtime and school time. Almost three days a week, I sat with my teacher practicing my times tables with toys. When I played with my peers, we played “restaurant,” and I was always elected to be the waitress, so I could calculate everyone’s meal totals. Because of my apparent hunger for knowledge, I was offered the chance to skip second grade, but my elementary education was too crucial not to cherish. I enjoyed being surrounded by my classmates who shared the same interests as I did.

I then grew a little older. Around the age of eleven, I was already being pressured into having a boyfriend and being told it was the right of passage into being a young female. I often found myself in a sticky predicament, “Kiss the boy! It’ll be...