Hello everyone. My name is Hunter, I’m 17 and I’m a self-proclaimed underachiever. I’ve been an underachiever for close to three years now and I don’t foresee the situation improving any time soon. It all started my freshman year. Each quarter, without fail, I would bring home six A’s and one C. By the end of the year I had come to realize that there was nothing I could do to raise up that C, and that I had to be content with my other six A’s. The problem is that I became over-comfortable with the situation. I don’t remember what grades I earned after that year, but they were decidedly not as good, although ‘as good’ is a relative term and not one I pay much attention to. My parents however took those early grades to heart and reminded me of them each time that I failed to live up to them every quarter that followed. I tried to explain in great detail the premise of a weighted grade, but to no avail.

My career as an underachiever has certainly irked my parents to no end. They in turn have confused me to no end about my academic standing, often combining praise for my enrollment into the National Honor Society with criticism for my GPA, which gained me acceptance in the first place. We were supposed to have an understanding. I understood that they understood that I would work hard and earn myself a place at a college somewhere. Having understood correctly, and achieved said goal, there remains a disconnect between us:

Parents: Congratulations on your acceptance into university son!

Son: Thanks.

Parents: And a scholarship as well!

Son: Yup.

Parents: Outstanding!……………..now start your homework.

This is not the way things were supposed to be. First off, homework has never been my forte. It’s a highly ritualistic chore that I dislike and therefore gave up at the first possible moment, namely when my first acceptance letter came in. Secondly, my room is rather ill suited for the task. I have bunkbeds, which means there are not one but two places for me to nap when senior slump takes its physical toll on me. Or when reading any book whatsoever gets too boring, I shoot darts, play mini-basketball, lift weights or watch sweet, sweet cable TV, all within my room. And scientists wonder why kids develop ADD. Thirdly there’s my computer, which when empowered with the internet and instant messaging becomes a more pleasurable pasttime than eating or chasing squirrels with high-powered air rifles. Fourth and finally, one must remember that I’ve been accepted into a university, the crowning achievement of my high school saga, and yet I’m expected to continue to work diligently? I’m an underachiever; I’m not prone to do anything diligently, let alone the last moments of homework of an institution that has forced me to say the words "IB."

Why have I shared this information with you all? Probably because I needed an excuse to write about me, but I also want dissuade the youth of this school from turning down the relaxing and non-challenging path of underachievement. Yes, it has been a wonderful, almost phantasmagoria-like voyage for me, but the rest of you may not fare so well. It is quite easy for the underachiever to stray from underachievement into total scholastic apathy, and even the most seasoned underachiever will tell you that this is unacceptable. As for me, I have IB oral exams in two weeks along with crucial tests and college deadlines, but I have to concentrate on the really important things, such as seeking the good and true wisdom of my magic-eight-ball to pick me a winner for this year’s NCAA brackets.