I am a firm believer that there is a virulent strain of hate for intellectuals that lingers over my country like thick smog.
And you know what? A lot of people probably have black lung by now.
I remember being the one kid that everyone rolled their eyes at whenever the tough questions came up. I remember being the kid that teachers rolled their eyes at.
Do you know how many times I've heard my teachers quickly add, "Anyone that isn't Sierra." I know, me either, because there were a lot of times. I've only just recently begun to refuse people when they ask to look at my work at school, and I kind of hate myself for it. I'm so tired of people getting credit for work that I do—work that shouldn't be too hard for any person of average intelligence to carry out.
I'm proud to say that anyone who tries to ask for my answers now gets the iciest glare I can manage, if my allergies don't make them glaze over.