I remember what the teachers told me about the class meeting. The report, as usual, was a very good student, I was working hard and I had no behavioral problems. My teachers had only one complaint: I had to participate more in classes, because with their discourse other students had to take advantage of me.
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At that time, I couldn't understand the reason for more speech. I convinced myself that I had nothing original to say or something that people should hear. And, frankly, the thought of speaking in front of 30 people made me horrified.
In junior high, things got worse. I had parent-teacher-student interviews that the student had to manage. First, I had to go to all my teachers and talk to them about my situation, my strengths and weaknesses. This was even torture for me; but then I had to meet with my guardian and my supervisor and provide them with the information I received from my teachers. Then the discussions on how I can develop. This whole process, I mean, it's only for me.
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In my college years, I learned to embrace my introversion and to look at it as power, not a character defect. Even my silence was something that made me original. Instead of feeling guilty for talking less, I started to appreciate the truly designed answers that I could give. I began to understand the distinction between closure and extraversion and the stigmatism brought by introvertedness. I had really great teachers; however, this does not justify the pressure they have imposed on me to become someone else. It shouldn't have taken me so long to accept the most basic feature of my being.
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