Tagged: school

Something is wrong with this class

chocolat

Something is wrong; I’ve discovered a terminal illness

That makes me sit in class with a death-like stillness

Leaving scars on my conscience; a limb must be severed

The remedy is bankrupt, despite my endeavors Continue reading

Pillow talk

school
Schooling is not the same as education
education - it is sacred.
Here it is commodified - twisted, manipulated, thrown away
with every spit bubble lazily popping at your mouth, every glazed over look you give your teacher Continue reading 

Where you will find me when I’m “writing”

Can I wake up here and write?

Can I wake up here and write?

Not at home.

Well, yes, sometimes I write at home, but if it were my world to dictate, I wouldn’t.

At home, I’ll write in the comfort of my own bed (as I am right now). There’s some comfort in reclining on a fluffy pillow, bare toes wiggling beneath the covers, with easily accessible water and a power cord nearby.

Or I’ll write in the kitchen, in the little breakfast area where I can sit with a plate of food, with my back facing the wall so I can write in private and observe my family members as they sidle in and out of the kitchen for food to eat.

At school, I’ll write in between classes and during free periods like the weirdo I am, because when the urge to write hits you, you have to comply, which often means blogging while other people are watching TV shows. It also means other people glancing over curiously to see what I’m typing, which more than often involves them sending invisible but strong waves of judgment towards me, and less than often involves them striking a conversation about my writing.

If things were to always go my way Continue reading

Make friends with teachers

I’ve gone through twelve miserable years of school, and I’ve got perhaps three teacher friends to show for it. What does that say of me? In junior high, I was much too immature to realize the value of having relationships with those in authority positions. I constantly viewed them as the enemy; foreign people who didn’t know me and wanted my life to be hell, utilizing worksheets and pop quizzes. Sometimes I was right; sometimes I just didn’t click with teachers from day one and had to suffer in their class for the rest of the year. Sometimes, I was the teacher’s pet. I was called on first, people asked me to bargain with them for treats like extra lunch time or an extension of a test. But be aware, this is not nearly the same thing as being friends with a teacher.

Teacher’s pets are precisely what they sound like, little puppies and kitties that like to be petted and fawned over. But friendship operates on a different level. There’s always an aspect of teacher-student inherent in any of these relationships, but these two individuals also see each other on equal planes in a way. You know their kid’s name, you spend time in their classroom when you don’t have to, and you can go beyond small talk without forcing it.

And you can look to them for advice. No, not for how to do this sort of problem, or how to approach this test, but for which classes to take next year, or how to proportion your schedule. It has taken me years to realize this, but some of your teachers are actually human. They’ve got wives and husbands and houses and they go to Chick-fil-a just like you and I. They’re also significantly older, and know so much about life. I don’t want to make a blanket statement here, so I won’t, but some teachers definitely have more to offer than perhaps your parents (only in some aspects though). They’re in high school, and they see the struggles that every student faces. They’re at least a fraction of a percent more sympathetic, unless they just have a bitter and pessimistic view of high schoolers, in which case they have no place as a teacher in high school.

These people decide your grades, but they have so much more to offer. In reality, we are all selfish yet ambitious; we’ve got goals and colleges that we want to reach, and having a genuine teacher-friend can come in handy. They’ve got nothing but positive comments to spill into a college rec, they’ll vouch for you if no one else will, and they have got genuine advice to offer.

First day of senior year – facing the crowd

That was yesterday. I don’t know why schools have arbitrarily decided to throw their students back into school on random weekdays, but hey, why fight it?

We started off the day with some gate-cheering; the seniors assembled bright and early at the school gates, cheering incoming newbies with signs and noisemakers and elaborate getups. Unfortunately, I was fighting a sore throat and aching joints so I slept in and missed that one.

I have a free first period of the day. I’m not sure if I like this or not, because it could either entail really good things for my productivity or really bad things. We’ll see how that operates. In fact, I’m writing this post during my first period free.

Met my teachers, met my teachers, blah blah blah. They all seem very pleasant and genuine, but hey, it is the first day of senior year, right? I’m sure anything and everything that happens to me will be bathed in the light of seniority. Nonetheless, my teachers all seem optimistic and eager to teach, which gave me this awesome vibe about the strong start that I wanted to get to this year, that I haven’t felt much in years past.

Then…came the pep rally. This is where the seniors storm the basketball court in their senior t-shirts with face paint and firefighter helmets (as was our theme this year), and where the awkward kids sort of just lounge around in the back of the crowd. I was towards the back. Promptly after this was over, we all went to go sit in the bleachers, while our class presidents announced the games…

And they called my name. At first, I thought that I had misheard one of them. But then the people around me turned towards me and started cheering. Up I stood, and through the row of people I stumbled over, cursing myself for choosing to sit in the very middle of the row. These were light and silly gamed, half-rigged so that the seniors would win everytime, arbitrarily decided when it came pretty close.

I played the game (dressed up in a feather boa, angel wings, and a witches hat and then spun around with a baseball bat) and turned towards the crowd of seniors and motioned victoriously after the seniors inevitably won (the other grade levels were purposely disadvantaged) and the crowd…just exploded.

Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t get up in front of major crowds very often. Well, I do for things like debate and giving speeches, but not usually in a peppy sense. Maybe it’s because normally sports players get called up, and people in my social group rarely make enough social waves to even be considered for the picking.

Whatever the case, I have no opinion on the matter. The experience was both fun, yet slightly embarrassing. But different in years past, I walked back to my spot in the middle of the bleacher row with more confidence than I usually emanate, and people took notice. I think it was a mixture of newfound seniority and not caring as much what people thought of me. It has taken me a long time, and I’m nowhere close to where I’d ideally like to be in my self-consciousness, but I am on my way to full on not letting others’ opinions get to me. It’s a weird feeling.

– Daily Prompt

7 Reasons Why We Love Summer

Summer is the absolute best season. I know it, you know it, heck, even your teachers know it! But why? Can it be explained chemically? When the thermometer hits 80 degrees, do our bodies go into happy mode? Maybe.

Check out the belated version of this post, 5 Reasons to Love Summer!

1. El Sol

Yes, the sun is a great start. As a symbol of light, it makes us feel as though we no longer face the pressures that we feel during the school year. The days grow longer and the nights get shorter. We have a (slight) tendency to wake up earlier, but we also are tempted to sleep in the wee hours of the morning. And that’s where our self control kicks in.

I think that everyone likes when it’s sunny out. It’s just a fact of life. Especially for young people. Continue reading