I’ve never thought of myself as a super attentive listener. I first realized this in the fifth grade during one of my weekly

guitar lessons. At that point, I've been taking guitar lessons for years, and I usually was

excited to learn new songs. My teacher was incredibly patient and always pushed me to

try music that was slightly above my comfort level. 

The week before this lesson, my mom had apparently told him that she wanted

me to start learning “Blackbird” by The Beatles. I remember sitting there with my guitar in my lap, tired from the day, and not particularly in the mood for the guitar. 
He began showing me the finger-picking pattern and explaining how the chords moved. 

I watched his hands, but I wasn't listening to his words. For some reason, while he was explaining the song, my mind connected it to the best part by Daniel Caesar, a song I had learned months earlier.

After the lesson, I went home thinking I was supposed to practice a song I already knew.

For the entire week, I practiced the same old song, playing it over and over, convincing myself that I was making progress. I felt pretty confident, too. I could play the song by Daniel Caesar with comfortability. 
When the next lesson came around, I walked

in feeling prepared. My teacher smiled and asked, “So, how is Blackbird coming along?” I looked at him and started laughing. I should have known better. Part of me probably realized the best part wasn't the right song, but I was too lazy and too caught up in my own head to correct myself.

In that moment, I realized not only that I had misunderstood the entire assignment, but

that I had also been playing Best Part with the completely wrong chords the whole time.

That moment stuck with me for reasons far beyond the embarrassment. It

showed me something fundamental about who I am. I absorb patterns more easily than

instructions or details sometimes. And I learn by repetition and instinct, sometimes at the expense of accuracy.

 Learning about the kind of learner I am early on gave me the opportunity to find my voice in education when I was struggling. 
As a home-based learner with a multitude of school experience, I have never felt academically comfortable; even when I was ahead, I somehow still felt behind. It wasn't that I lacked ability, it was that I was trying to succeed in environments without understanding how I processed information within them.

 Once I recognized this, I started playing into my strengths and accepting the shadow of my weakness. This realization has given me

the confidence to advocate for myself and reshape how I approached learning. 

Instead of staying quiet when I didn‘t understand something, I learned to ask questions, and trust my own

pace. Over time, I became less focused on where I stood compared to others and more focused on what worked best for me. 
 

Finding my voice in education didn't mean becoming instantly comfortable; it was learning to move forward even when I wasn't. As I moved into middle school

and high school I began to notice how often this same pattern showed up in my academic life.

 At first, I would catch myself doing the same thing I had done during that guitar lesson. I would listen just enough to feel familiar with the material, then rely on instinct to fill in the rest.

 Sometimes it worked but other times I would misunderstand assignments or miss small details.

Each mistake showed me where I needed to slow down and be more intentional.

 One of the biggest changes I made was learning to check my understanding before

moving forward. Instead of assuming I knew what a teacher meant, I began rereading

instructions, asking for clarification, and comparing my work to the expectations.