Oh Look, A Squirrel! by Sarah

Oh Look, A Squirrel! by Sarah - January 2015 Scholarship Essay

I have the attention span of a squirrel. Have you ever watched one in action? They fling themselves from branch to branch, bouncing and chattering, in constant motion. Their behavior matches my thought pattern perfectly. When I try to focus on an idea, new ideas branch from the original one and distract me. I leap to and climb those other ideas until I'm in a completely different tree. Focusing is not my forte, which makes me difficult to teach. I am not a parrot who can sit on my teacher's shoulder and repeat exactly what they say. If I could give one piece of advice to a teacher who wanted to help me learn, I would ask them to have patience and teach me as a squirrel, not a parrot.

My mind is naturally active. When I'm out of focus, it wanders, taking me away to unrelated topics. When I'm in focus, my brain redirects the energy it typically uses for thought to the rest of my body. I'll jiggle my leg, doodle, or fold any piece of paper I can find into a ninja star. Past teachers have found this distracting. To them, I seem disrespectful and inattentive. However, instead of assuming I'm not paying attention or do not care, they should engage me by asking me questions about the lesson. They will find that I know the answer. I understand if they ask me to quiet down, but I would ask my teacher to allow me a small outlet for my energy. If my teacher has patience with my squirrely habits, they will see an improvement in my class participation.

Squirrels are certainly difficult to teach if the teacher's methods were made for parrots. By nature, squirrels will not sit still and echo exactly what they hear. Still, I understand the frustration a squirrel causes, with my chattering and fidgeting. But I can be taught. If my teacher has patience and allows me to be a squirrel up to a point my performance will improve. It would not if I were forced to be a parrot. Squirelly attention spans require patience.