YTA, but mainly for your overall attitude.

Listen -- I have been you. From the ages of 13 to 17 or so, I had similar beliefs about people. Socializing was a meaningless frivolity; conversation had no purpose unless it led to an end.

I excelled in school -- I was one of those kids who aced tests without studying. English teachers fawned over my complex sentence structure, precise vocabulary, and penchant for semicolons (used correctly, naturally). I was hailed as a genius -- a prodigy, even. As a young teen, I knew that somehow, I was different -- a true Intellectual in an age of mindless small-talking drones.

It wasn't until college -- a time in life when developing a social life becomes practically impossible to avoid -- that I realized that my life up to that point had been utterly and tragically colorless. Granted, I went to a school known for being, quite frankly, a bunch of nerds, so I was able to both connect with people and realize that I was no longer the smartest person in the room (and that I, really, never was in the first place).

Every person has depth. Small talk can be difficult to maneuver and irritating to hear, yes -- but it's a formality. Consider it the tutorial level to making a real connection with a person. You'd be surprised at what you can learn if you start asking questions.

My greatest memories in life, looking back, are all based on connections with other people. Sneaking up onto rooftops at night with my college buddies to gaze at the stars; holding my first boyfriend's hand as we walked under a titanosaur skeleton at the museum, giddiness soaring azhdarchidlike in my chest; screaming the lyrics to "Dancing Queen" while rollerblading at incredible speed through a tennis court at midnight with my friends. I learned to be kind, and learned that kindness is returned with support and trust. People whose initial conversations my 16-year-old self may have called "banal chatter" turned out to be some of the brightest and most supportive people in my life. I have friends, now, that I can turn to when depressed or anxious -- and whom I support in return, because I care about them in a way I never cared about numbers or scores or awards or games.

But because of all the time I spent as a pseudointellectual misanthrope, I'm horribly emotionally stunted. I missed out on so many of the so-called quintessential teenage experiences. I'm 24 and I still have difficulty making connections. I only just found love for the first time, but I'm still working through my issues with physical and emotional intimacy because I so deeply internalized the idea that these things were frivolous.

Here's my advice to you: look into the possibility of finding a therapist -- you may have social anxiety (I certainly do). Give the karate, and the other students, a chance. Consider it an experiment. After this set of lessons is over, if you absolutely hate the sport, consider finding something else -- a games club, maybe, or a robotics team. Your life will be much richer if you let some people in.