21"True terror is to wake up one morning and discover that your high school class is running the country."
- Kurt Vonnegut Jr.
High school. Merriam-Webster's dictionary describes it as 'a school especially in the United States usually including grades 9-12 or 10-12'.
I think any student could shorten that very easily. High School 'a waste of time' or… simply… 'Hell'. Find one school where the majority of students don't agree with that.
Even students that are academically orientated aren't interested in high school. Their interested in what college their grades from high school will get them in.
Here's the truth… high school… it doesn't mean a thing.
I mean sure… it'll get you into a better college if you do well. But nothing you learn in high school, truly learn, is going to help you in life. World History, Pre Calculus, Chemistry, Gym… are not going to teach you any survival skills. All you're doing is continuing a time honored tradition of competing with yourselves. That's all folks.
Does it seem logical? Maybe.
I mean why wouldn't we want to enlighten the youth of the world? Why wouldn't we want to deepen the proverbial pools of knowledge of our minds and better ourselves for the future?
Well because, I think the saying goes, 'you can lead a horse to water but you can't make him drink', right?
Here, maybe this will be a better way of telling a teenager; 'if Jane has a test and you tell her that she'll fail if she doesn't study; which she doesn't. Instead Jane goes out with her boyfriend, John, and he breaks up with her in an epic scene that will be talked about in hushed voices by her classmates (and friends) for many weeks to come while she cries about her broken heart and her failed test/grounding and total ruining of her life'.
But this isn't high school is it Mr. Santos? This is an 'elite' boarding school for the gifted. Not intellectually, not spiritually, mentally, physically, or artistically… but merely fruitfully. Do you know what I mean by fruitfully Mr. Santos? Plentiful, loaded, stuffed, abounding, dripping… with cash.
You know what Jane does now? Jane laughs at John for breaking up with her and calls her limo driver to take her home. She smiles when she see's that F on her test and politely reminds you that her daddy pays for your pay check. A pay check that could possibly just… stop.
And say… you Mr. Santos… narrow your eyes at Jane and shift uncomfortably in your chair because you know that this little bitch of a girl really could ruin you.
Maybe that thought that always does flashes through your mind, 'how did I get put in this position', 'how did my life come to this'? I don't know. Either way you smile your slightly ill and fake smile in her direction, your eyes focused on the projector installed into the ceiling behind her, and remind her that she can take it on a later date.
She thanks you in that condescending way only Jane can do and I bet you've never wanted to hit a girl so bad in your life.
Her friend slaps her hand as she passes and grins at you the whole time. You're in the hands of a group of spoiled, trust funded, seventeen year olds.
High school doesn't matter. You can enjoy it or you can loathe it but nothing you ever accomplish in terms of social status will… matter.
You can wear all the right clothes, and go to all the right parties, and date all the right guys.
So?
You can say all the right things, and hang out with all the right people, and catch all the right eyes.
And?
You can stand out, and be envied, and bask in every second of your earned nobility.
What's your point?
Do you think Dairy Queen cares that you were prom queen? Do you think that Harvard law gives a damn that you were voted Mr. Popularity by your senior class?
No.
Nothing that happens to you; first crush, evil teachers, that two hours wasted at least once a month in detention… all pointless.
So you can hate the kid that pulled your hair on your bus ride home. You can waste hours wondering why that boy doesn't like you. Fitting in, peer pressure, homework, plays, arguments, break ups… are just background memories to reality.
Your real life begins the day you step out of those doors… and live.
But again, that's not true here, is it Mr. Santos? In an 'elite' boarding school these kids were practically bred to know what they were going to be. They've all been on their own since children and they know, know, that high school is just a stepping stone for them to get past.
It's a joke to them. You're a joke to them. Like the little horses that used to sit outside Big's or Kroger's or Wal-Mart. They just put a penny, or credit card, through and you do what they want you to do.
Have you ever wondered if they've killed anyone? I have; I've sat in class and just thought how easy it would be for them to 'get away with murder' as the saying goes.
They could do it, any one of them; John or Jane or any of their 'friends'. Oh what am I saying? They'd pay someone else to do it for them.
That's not really funny… but true.
Jane might have millions of dollars at her disposal Mr. Santos, but she'll never know what real desire or passion or want is. She'll never really be satisfied, ever. Doesn't that scare you? I'm not even sure if they're human…
In life there are going to be the people that barely make it and there are going to be the people who everything comes easy too. It's something you're just going to have to accept.
In this school there are always going to be the ones who have to work (the people with scholarships) and the people who get everything easily (the people with money). Some days that gets to you and you just have to remember that life just works that way.
To the disappointment of my recently dead grandfather (I'm sorry, deceased), I wish I could say that I was sad about not wearing the latest trends, going to the best parties, or having the coolest friends. I don't.
I know he meant well (no I don't) when he decided to put all his money into a scholarship for me to go to Stridel for the rest of my high school career, I guess. But I just wasn't interested.
I'm NOT interested.
I used to call high school a place to babysit students. Eight hours your parents didn't have to worry about you during the day.
But here, this, is life.
All I can say is I don't know why anyone would consider this 'Elite' stuck up boarding school superior to any gum infested, bad lunch making, principal hating, detention giving, no note passing high school in America. Because I'd trade 'public' for elite any day you asked.
By Zoe Reed, who has lost her mind and does not want to pass if she turns this in…
That's what I wanted to hand in.
I hated English papers so much. They were easy, yes. But when it came to writing them I had the attention span of a two year old at Toys R Us. Then I'd get annoyed… and when I got annoyed I tended to write about the subject (or teacher) however I saw fit and as much as I whole heartedly agreed with this piece… I couldn't give it to the teacher.
Stridel Prep was a school that wasn't cheap. You either had to be very smart or very rich. Some would say that, lucky me, I hadn't needed either. Some would say, if he'd only left that money to you.
I was the only paradox it seemed, the only one who got to be neither.
Yes, I wake up thinking that every morning too; my… life… really… sucks.