No matter which school I attend, it seems that there is some issue that bothers me above all else.
In Nampa, it was the fact that our school was the designated "ghetto" school of the area. I really didn't have too much of a problem with it, but I definitely felt the discrimination whilst attending transfer classes in other school buildings.
At West High in Salt Lake, the whole school was an issue. One out of every five teachers graduated from college with a degree in hatred, and the other four got drunk and wandered into the hallways, inexplicably finding themselves at the front of a room full of impressionable young people. Of course I exaggerate, as I was lucky enough to get the only good teachers programmed into my schedule (yes, programmed), but the army of complaints posed by peers were more than enough to back up my made-up statistics.
On top of the evil/drunk teachers, the school had a crime rate higher than in D.C. If you leave any materials unattended and it's still there upon your return, make sure you say a prayer of gratitude.
At my new school, half an hour away, people still poke fun at the juvenile delinquent center that was West High School. One teacher in particular has asked me on several occasions just how long it took me to get through the metal detectors, and how many stabbings there were a week.
Finally, let us not forget the horrendous tile laying.
The newest addition to my list of problems with schools has arisen here at my undisclosed location. In between the short passing periods, they play cheerful polka music, in some maniacal effort to rush you to your next class before you get caught wandering the halls as a tardy student. I'm sure in the bowels of the buildings there are hidden administrators, laughing maliciously at the screens of security camera footage, with pupils making a mad dash to the evil music, which taunts them with the reminder that there is a marathon distance between their current location and the next class.
In all reality, the sheer number of good qualities of this school outnumber the bad, but this single fact gives me hesitation; the leaders of our educational institute turn our very real and pressing concern of punctuality into a twisted event similar to that of the Hunger Games. There is no winner; there are only non-losers. Any alliances and friendships you have made are foregone as you desperately perform acrobatics to navigate the hallway traffic. Only the ruthless and stout of heart have a reserved seat in the limited hallway of champions.
It's either play the game, or be played.
I am publicly announcing your villainy, school board.
Your move.
In Nampa, it was the fact that our school was the designated "ghetto" school of the area. I really didn't have too much of a problem with it, but I definitely felt the discrimination whilst attending transfer classes in other school buildings.
At West High in Salt Lake, the whole school was an issue. One out of every five teachers graduated from college with a degree in hatred, and the other four got drunk and wandered into the hallways, inexplicably finding themselves at the front of a room full of impressionable young people. Of course I exaggerate, as I was lucky enough to get the only good teachers programmed into my schedule (yes, programmed), but the army of complaints posed by peers were more than enough to back up my made-up statistics.
On top of the evil/drunk teachers, the school had a crime rate higher than in D.C. If you leave any materials unattended and it's still there upon your return, make sure you say a prayer of gratitude.
At my new school, half an hour away, people still poke fun at the juvenile delinquent center that was West High School. One teacher in particular has asked me on several occasions just how long it took me to get through the metal detectors, and how many stabbings there were a week.
Finally, let us not forget the horrendous tile laying.
The newest addition to my list of problems with schools has arisen here at my undisclosed location. In between the short passing periods, they play cheerful polka music, in some maniacal effort to rush you to your next class before you get caught wandering the halls as a tardy student. I'm sure in the bowels of the buildings there are hidden administrators, laughing maliciously at the screens of security camera footage, with pupils making a mad dash to the evil music, which taunts them with the reminder that there is a marathon distance between their current location and the next class.
In all reality, the sheer number of good qualities of this school outnumber the bad, but this single fact gives me hesitation; the leaders of our educational institute turn our very real and pressing concern of punctuality into a twisted event similar to that of the Hunger Games. There is no winner; there are only non-losers. Any alliances and friendships you have made are foregone as you desperately perform acrobatics to navigate the hallway traffic. Only the ruthless and stout of heart have a reserved seat in the limited hallway of champions.
It's either play the game, or be played.
I am publicly announcing your villainy, school board.
Your move.
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