Lazy by Caroline

Lazy by Caroline - December 2022 Scholarship Essay

“Lazy.”
The word pounded on my eardrums, made my stomach turn, and flooded my mind. There were so many people around me. Did everyone notice? When people looked at me, did they see me or what was in my hand?
The item in my hand, the source of the name-calling and anxiety, was the handle of a rolling bookbag that followed behind me. I can’t use a normal bookbag like everyone else, a simple fact of my life. I have learned, though, that not everyone can see me and understand why I carry this baggage—both physically and mentally. I am physically disabled. My identity as a disabled person is complicated as I have an invisible disability that you can’t see by looking at someone. As I, an outwardly “able-bodied” person, drag around a rolling bookbag, I tend to hear similar taunts. I look just fine: why can’t I just pick up a bag like everyone else?
As I heard that word I told myself it wasn’t important. I kept walking to my class.
After I reached my destination I rolled my bag behind my chair, retrieved my materials from it, and waited for class to begin by looking forward to the front of the room.
“Hey, why do you have a rolling bookbag?”
The feeling returned. My heart sank and I could feel my bookbag sitting less than a foot behind me.
Despite my bookbag’s proximity, I had a habit of ignoring it. Whether it be sitting behind me in class or rolling behind me in the halls, I always interpreted my bookbag as a weight behind me holding me back from being independent. I only looked behind me to the bookbag when I needed it to aid in my classes: pencils, paper, books, and more. After using the bookbag, I looked forward not only as a way to consume myself in my education but also to distract myself from the bag behind me.
I collected myself and calmly explained to them why I utilized the bookbag.
“I’m sorry about that”
I shrunk again. I couldn’t even push myself to respond, so I just shrugged and forced a smile that said “it is what it is.”
As the class continued, I continued needing materials from my bookbag. As I uncomfortably turned around to retrieve something, I heard comments about the work from behind me.
“What did you get, Caroline?” I heard someone say from the back of the classroom.
Suddenly, all eyes in the classroom were on me–and my bookbag. I hated everyone seeing my rolling bookbag. They knew I was disabled. They knew I was weak.
Through my embarrassment, I told them I didn’t know yet, and I pulled out my materials. Everyone watched me as I scribbled and typed into my calculator. At last, I finally got my answer and shared it with everyone.
“That makes sense. Thank you!” Someone responded, as many others nodded in agreement and started writing and calculating as well to check their work with mine.
Despite my embarrassment about my peers seeing my bookbag, nobody commented on it. Instead of drawing attention to the bookbag, people turned to me for help. I used my rolling bookbag to help answer the question they needed help with. Oddly, my rolling bookbag helped them as well as me.
I had tried so hard to ignore my rolling bookbag, and my disability, by pretending it wasn’t there. In my mind, if people knew I was disabled, they would think my successes were lesser than theirs–that I was less of a person. My peers’ reliance on me despite my disability helped me realize that my rolling bookbag did not deter my success. Wherever I went, my rolling bookbag gave me the supplies I needed to succeed despite my disadvantages. This situation taught me an extremely important lesson: my bookbag is not my weakness, it is my strength: I can succeed against all odds. I will use this important lesson to push myself to greater heights in 2023 in all aspects of my life, academically and beyond.