I am sixteen years old, I am a teenager.Not a young adult, and not an adolescent. I live behind a wall of stereotypes “lazy” “selfish” and “rude.”

As I look back to when I was young I remember going to my elementary school playground. I came here often with my mother and little sister. While they played on the purple slide I sat quietly on my swing, kicking the brown, damp wood chips under my feet while the summer sun warmed the back of my neck. This was my favorite spot, my special spot. During recess at school I had claimed this swing my own. For the past couple of days I noticed that a group of kids was always at the playground the same time I got there with my mom. They were the “big kids” as I called them. I watched them in awe, the way they talked, the way they acted. They were a mystery to me because they were so far from what I was and so different. Big and tall like giants, they gave each other piggy back rides and laughed until their faces became red and wet with tears. The girls wore tight blue jeans that showed the outline of their legs, and black tank tops that showed a sliver of their stomachs. The boys wore pants that sagged to show their boxers or wore baggy shorts. I wished I could be like them, to wear what I wanted, and come here with my friends without my mom. I continued to watch as more and more gathered around each other. Huddling in small group some of the girls would glance up at me and cover their mouths with their brightly colored nail polished hands and giggle. “Oh no,” I said quietly to myself as one of the girls started walking my way. I started to panic because its not normal for me to talk to a big kid. I quickly looked away, not making eye contact until I saw her dirty, worn, red converse stop right in front of me. “Hi hun,” she says as I slowly lift my head to meet her eyes. “How ‘bout you come and hang with us for a little, if you want?” I stand up and she takes her hand in mine and walks me to her friends. Although I was nervous because I was younger then them I couldn't pass up this opportunity to be a teenager for a while. They spend the next half hour playing with my hair, painting my nails and asking me questions about myself like what my favorite food was and what I wanted to be when I grew up. I felt like I belonged because I shared their laughter and was surrounded with their attention. I simply replied “ a teenager, I want to be a teenager when im older.” Shortly after my mom came to take me home, and as I walked away I looked back to them. They played basketball now. Running around in the heat with a smile on their face, sweat in their hair. I saw them as eagles. Free, fearless, and full of life. I couldn't wait to be older, I couldn't wait to be a teenager.
Now that I am a teenager its different. People don't look at me the way a child would. I get nasty looks and quiet remarks when I go out in public like “what is that girl wearing?” and “theres a couple more pot heads we have to worry about.” When i'm with a group of friends its even worse. People assume i'm up to no good, getting myself into trouble just because I am a teen. I don't feel like an eagle, I don't feel like the kids I once watched and admired. I see now that society does not think of us, of me, like an eagle the way I did when I was young. But more like a crow. With defiance in our eyes, ignorance stuffed between our feathers, and disrespect grasped in our claws. Annoyingly screeching profane language, and rebelling against the world.
“Its not fair” I tell myself, “don't they remember when they were a teen?” We are free, and fearless and full of life. We do have defiance in our eyes, we don't settle for what we are told. We strive for change. We are ignorant because we are young, we haven't experienced all of lifes struggles to make us wise. We are also disrespectful, we have became to be that way because we are not shown respect ourselves. We are wild, we are dreamers and we are teenagers, I am a teenager.