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Olivia G. Long

Professor Madeline

RC 1000-119

29 January 2023

Oblivious Olivious

From a young age, probably around the time of early elementary school, I remember

having a constant awareness that I was different from my peers. My teachers would describe me

as a bright kid outside of class, I could talk to adults, I played well with others, I was the usual

happy go lucky kid. However, in the classroom setting my teachers would say the opposite,

Olivia’s card got flipped to red due to obsessive talking during class. Olivia got sent to silent

lunch for doing something I explicitly said not to. Olivia this. Olivia that. I always felt like these

things were out of my control. I never fully understood the social ques of elementary school like

when my teacher would put her finger over her mouth and wait for the class to quiet down, I was

the kid that kept talking unknowingly.

Although I was stuck in my own world I knew when people saw me differently. A teacher

I saw everyday going into school coined the nickname “Oblivious Olivious” since I am severely

inattentive. I didn’t know what that nickname meant but I knew that teacher was jabbing at me.

At the end of the school year or so we would have a class multiplication and spelling bee

competition where we’d all stand up and go down the line of students. This competition always

caused great anxiety because I struggled with spelling and mental math, let alone it was a timed

competition with others. I was always the first one out. I would hear an orchestra of whispers as I

sat down. I knew something was wrong. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that my

classmates could do such things with ease in their heads.

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Eventually in the fourth/fifth grade, after my teacher had noticed my inability to

memorize my multiplication tables and my constant misspelling of easier words such as

“because” or “continue” she put me in smaller group classes that specialized in teaching children

with learning disabilities. I wasn't aware at the time what classes I was put in but I knew I hated

those classes. I wasn’t challenged enough, I felt as if I was stuck in the middle, reading was easy,

spelling was hard, creating stories was easy, math was the bane of my existence. I felt stuck and

lost most of my educational career.

Caitlin Warde, a warm hearted Irish woman my mom befriended in college. Since I

struggled a lot in school Caitlin was employed by my mom as my tutor. The only jobs she could

feasibly handle were short term couple hour shifts due to her crohn's disease. Everyday after

school I was greeted by Caitlin and her two small dogs. I was always excited to see her. We

would talk about everything under the sun. Caitlin was my biggest supporter, she spent extra

time carefully explaining the homework I was given and made sure I always understood the

topics at hand. She made flashcards, bought work books, and took me to the library every

weekend. Her personality shines out through her smile and her laughs remind me of a friendly

witches cackle. She made learning fun, it was nice to have an adult patience enough to deal with

my nonsense and spacing out. She got me excited to learn and to challenge myself.

Caitlin always had a hunch that I had bigger issues at hand. She suggested that I get

tested for ADHD. When I was officially tested and diagnosed with ADHD at the beginning of

sixth grade. I scored very high, and there was no question that it was severe. Going into Middle

school with this new knowledge did little to no good. I continued to be pulled from my main

classes into now one on one learning with a teacher. It was hard making friends as it is for any

middle schooler but being separated from the herd made socialization difficult.
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There was a large high school right next door to my middle school. That high school had

the works, booming football games, enormous class sizes, mean seniors that would tower over

you, or so I thought they would. My family collectively grew worried as it was getting to the

time where I was moving onto bigger things. Caitlin knew of a school downtown which wasn't

focused on sports, the class sizes were small, and the seniors didn't tower over anybody, this

school was an art school.

Caitlin and my dad painstakingly helped me with creating the perfect portfolio for my

audition. They spent many nights staying up with me making sure I'd “wow” the teachers with

my art and that my grades were good enough to get accepted. I was so excited to dive head first

into a new learning environment that would eventually help me figure out my learning style.

The summer before my freshman year of high school Caitlin unexpectedly passed away

in the hospital. She was supposed to go in for a routine appointment but her crohn's disease was

far worse than imagined. The first person I wanted to tell that I got into the art school was her.

She always believed in my abilities and never let me give up on myself. Without her influence

I’m not sure when I would've found my passion for creating, I’d maybe be stuck playing in band

for the other school, struggling to keep my grades up in larger groups.

I entered high school feeling stuck and lost again. I was happy to have been there

learning about things I enjoyed, and meeting like minded kids who were all just as awkward as

me. Caitlin left an everlasting impact on my educational career. I missed her but I kept my grades

up, went to tutoring after school, managed to even handle an after school job. Then Covid hit.

During Covid I remember falling asleep on zoom calls with my cheek pressed against my

keyboard. I lacked that certain spark for learning Caitlin once gave me. Online schooling was not

for me, I failed three classes due to my inattentiveness. It was a huge wake up call. I was alone
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with my learning without having anyone holding me accountable. I managed to graduate high

school with some AP classes under my belt and new ways to manage my spaciness due to

ADHD medication, getting accommodations, and finding ways to cope with change as well as

being different from my peers.

I always knew that I was fundamentally different but I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Why would I want to live the “neurotypical” life when all I’ve known is my way of living? What

I lack with being able to focus I make up for with always finding my way of doing things, and

making it unique to me. I credit my resilience and academic confidence to Caitlin. Without her I

wouldn’t be where I am today taking college level art classes. I’m slowly regaining my spark for

learning again. It's just grieving what once was, takes some time. Change is hard to accept but

with due time there will be the light at the end of the tunnel. I also don’t actually mind the name

“Oblivious Olivious” anymore. It’s pretty true to my character, and I think the nickname is quite

clever.