Its sort-of ironic that I’m writing this at school since it’s the reason for a lot of my pain. Not just mine you know, school puts a lot of people in pain. I’m sure that’s not what was originally intended, but that’s the way it has become. School is a contest. Your personal intelligence is defined by your I.Q., by tests you take that are only made to conform to certain people’s brain, and I wish you luck if you can’t understand something fast enough or if your teacher’s way of teaching doesn’t work for you.
At school they expect you to drop all personal problems at home, as if your feelings are some sort of light-switch in which you can turn on and off. You can’t. We are no machines. Sometimes we lose focus on the fact that the person to your left, and the person to your right, the children you teach and the adult you are trying to one-up, that kid that you only sort-of-kind-of bully, are living, breathing feeling human beings, your own kind. We see them as we want; As The Football Player, the Hot One, the Goth Girl, the Nerd, the Asian, the Bad Kid, the Prissy Chick, the Dyke, the Gay Guy, and so on. We see each other as friends, enemies, challenges, but not as the simplest term, fellow humans built with the same basic anatomy as one-another, the same bones that can break, the same hearts that can stop, the same skin that is flawed, the same brains that control our thoughts. Whether they go home to fights and bloody lower lips, or posh dinners and comfortable living, or both, it is not something that you will always know, for you can never tell what goes on behind closed doors. Yet students, your teachers put you down, teachers, your students smart off to you, peers, classmates, they will make you feel like a king or a peasant only worthy of scraps, they see it as their choosing. Most schools have seven periods, we have eight here at Schrade, including advisory or home-room. We take math, English, science, reading or a second language, history, gym and others, these are only basic classes. Many of us take more than this. We get homework from most of these classes, we go back home to our comfort or pain. We are stressed, scared, questioning ourselves, curious, depressed, anxious and nervous. We are trying to become who we are; all while being told who to be.
To the students, be strong. To the teachers, love what you do, be even stronger. To the school system, you know you’ve messed up when teachers and students alike don’t want to walk through the stained, cracked, beat up doors.
-This started off as a suicide letter
this ended as a speech to fix the problem.
-Pintsized
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