Speak Up by Lydia

Speak Up by Lydia - May 2026 Scholarship Essay

“Oh? But you don't act homeschooled!”

This is what I usually hear when I tell someone I’ve been homeschooled for most of my life, and hey, I get it. However, most of the homeschoolers I know don’t fit the antisocial, awkward stereotype. Homeschooling has its benefits; I have had a wonderful, in-depth education and the ability to prioritize my passions. In my homeschool co-op, I had small classes and close relationships with my teachers. However, it has some downsides. It’s hard to challenge the status quo in a tight, small group of opinionated families. In an echo chamber of native Arkansans, differences and diversity are not necessarily celebrated. I spent most of high school conforming to their “normal.” It wasn’t until senior year that it hit me: why should I care what people think? I could use this final year to speak up and make a difference in this community. I could take advantage of this opportunity because sometimes leadership looks like challenging harmful ideas and bringing empathy to the table.

What concerned me most was history class. Here, the boys revealed some very ignorant beliefs, and although not everyone present agreed with them, nobody ever pushed back. I, too, never considered pushing back until this year, when the full impact of their opinions hit me. To illustrate the ugliness, let me share a few examples:

About four to eight thousand Cherokee people died on the Trail of Tears, and over double that number were forced from their homes. My classmates did not care. “Well, we had the bigger guns,” they shrugged.
While learning about the slow, arguably failed process of post-Civil War reconstruction, they found nothing quite as funny as slavery and racism. In fact, these boys entertained themselves by “almost” saying the N-word, just tweaking a letter or two to deflect accusations.
When we came to suffragists fighting for women’s right to vote, they were no longer just flippant. With complete seriousness, they grumbled that this was their least favorite part of American history and that it was all downhill from there.

A few years ago, I might have ignored them– ashamed, but not bold enough to say it- not anymore. I was disgusted by what I heard, and I couldn’t justify silence any longer. As the oldest girl in a multi-age classroom, younger students viewed me as a leader. To stay quiet would be neglecting my responsibility as someone those freshmen, sophomores, and juniors looked up to. So I made it my mission to counteract every discompassionate, racist, and sexist statement with a strong argument. If that angered them, so be it.

I was shocked by my classmate’s response. I fully expected backlash and anger, and while being confronted definitely made them uncomfortable, they didn’t lash out. I learned a valuable lesson: when you confront friends with a desire to improve them, not accuse them, they absorb your message twice as well. Had I approached every conversation from a place of “you’re wrong and evil,” they might have held on to their position with renewed vigour. Offering perspective with kindness and empathy made them genuinely rethink their stance. Rather than opposing me with hatred, my classmates softened, albeit gradually. Now, in the final weeks of my high school experience, I watch the same boys who threw around sexist jokes last semester approach serious topics with gravity and respect. Led by gentle but persistent guidance, they acknowledged their harmful behavior and made an effort to improve.

I’m not saying it’s possible to change everyone– nor are we responsible for their actions or beliefs. However, we’ll never know the impact we could have made if we don’t try. Our words have power, especially when spoken with kindness, bravery, and strength. I’ve learned a lot about bravery this year; freshman me would have balked at this much confrontation. I have never regretted standing up for what is right, but staying silent has haunted me, sometimes for years. I will continue to use this newfound bravery in every chapter of my life, speaking up with both love and resolve.