Puzzling Thoughts

I silently listened to the discussion of my classmates around me. Everyone was so engaged in the conversation taking place, impatiently waiting until it was their turn to present new ideas. The class discussed the credibility of every detail in History. Was it more of a story, than facts? I didn't know. I gazed upon the different faces around the room and watched as some would suddenly brighten at a new passing idea in their mind. Each person's opinion was continuously being built off from by the next person's input. Although the subject was one that caught my interest, there was a greater issue weighing upon my mind. Just the mere thought of presenting my ideas on a subject in front of the class made me shudder. If I was called on, what was I to do? I tried to focus on what I would say but I had learned to be afraid of what I might come up with. It seemed as if every time I was called on, I came up with an idea so different from everyone else's that I felt like I was inferior...always wrong. Someone always seemed to shoot down my idea, or come up with one so much more developed, mine was left in the dust. So unintentionally distracting myself from each valid point being made in the conversation, I swiftly picked up a pen and began to jot down different ideas that flew through my mind. I always related this process with putting together a puzzle. Each passing thought represented another piece to the puzzle, it had a purpose and meaning for being there, but unless it was placed in it's rightful position, it was useless. It was hard not to envy how quickly everyone else was describing the scenes in front of them, while I still struggled to find the pieces that were missing from mine. As I looked harder I began to find the missing pieces, and the scene finally appeared before my eyes. But by the time I found each piece and put it in it's rightful place, everyone else had put their 'old' puzzles away and started a new one. It was as if I was running in a race in which every competitor had an advantage over me. They ran upon the track, while I was left to push through the hot summer sand.

"Okay, now find a quote in the first page of the article that you either agree or disagree with. Go!"

The Teacher's voice pulled me back into reality. I quickly skimmed through the article nervously trying to find a statement that stuck out to me. After getting near the middle, my heart pounded faster afraid that I would not find a statement I would be able to create conversation over.

"Alright, times up. What did you guys come up with?"

The class again seemed to have the full picture while I only had a vague shape or two in my mind. I continued to read until I came upon a statement that intrigued me.

"Regardless of the value of these many lessons, History isn't what happened, but the stories of what happened and the lessons these stories include." I had finally located my quote. The conversation continued around me, while I searched for what I would say if I was called on. I again became consumed in my thoughts, but this time I directed them towards describing the picture in front of me.

'How reliable is History? Do we ever really know the exact details? We can only learn about the past through writings, and people's opinions of the events around them. But knowing the absolute truth about an event doesn't matter as much as learning from any mistakes made during it. Although it is through different perspectives, history is still accurate about the outcome of an event. The accuracy of the smaller details in the event aren't as important as paying attention and learning from the mistakes made. Like...Foreign Affairs. America apparently didn't learn their lesson even though they were warned in the passed to stay away from foreign affairs due to past complications. Instead of learning from past mistakes made, America got involved in more foreign affairs leading to a meaningless War that could have been easily avoided.'

The sound of the bell ringing brought me back from my thoughts. Now that I had put the puzzle together, class was over and it mattered no longer. No matter how hard I tried to improve on finding the pieces faster and finishing the puzzle first, someone always beat me to it. When others seemed to be staring at the same puzzle, I felt as if I were looking at something similar, only warped. It was as if they saw a man sitting in a boat with a fishing pole on a lake, and I saw a lake with a boat containing a man holding a fishing pole. Although it is the same image, they see the man as if it's the main object, and I see the lake as if it's the main object. I shook my head and let out a deep sigh...maybe with time everyone would realize that we all see the same sky...but in different shades of blue.

Author's Note: (hahaha...)

I realize I probably switched tenses a few times, and this is quite long so it will most likely be overlooked. I just thought I would put some of my thoughts down on paper, and instead of boring you with an essay format...I would bore you with a story instead. =) hahaha...