and Words
Hey
Well, my temperature’s rising, and my feet on the floor
Crazy people knocking ’cause they’re wanting some more
Let me in, baby, I don’t know what you got
But you better take it easy, this place is hot
And I’m so glad we made it
So glad we made it
Why won’t you gimme some lovin’
Gimme some lovin’
Gimme some lovin’ every day
Lyric excerpts from Musixmatch.
As I closed my freshman year in high school, my trajectory steadily declined. No, I sugarcoat it; I steered my future steadily into impending death, like a Kamikaze pilot. Many high school friends likely don’t remember me from ninth grade, but that’s because I rarely attended. My algebra teacher once shamed me with, “Mr. Wong, you’re out of school more often than you’re in school.” Then everything abruptly changed.
One might easily conclude that this occurred between ninth and tenth grade. It didn’t; it occurred as I took my final on World History. Entering the final, I had a failing grade. Our teacher, Mr. Beasley did one last review session, and I paid attention and aced that final. For years, I struggled to decipher what motivated me to change. Mrs. Broadwell, my English and Latin teacher, once asked me point blank as she praised me for the change, and I honestly responded with, “I don’t know.”