Thoughts on School

Ahh, May. The Money Month. The Month where the pieces of a high schooler student's life begin to fall into place with very frightening, disturbingly loud noises. May is a time of intense panic for adolescents enrolled in America's most efficient penitentiary system: The U.S. Public Schools system, headed up by none other than Bush-drone, and therefore Conservative Nazi Margaret Spellings (or as I affectionately refer to her, Ms Mags). Is it strange that she has not only never been a teacher in her entire life, but in fact has never worked in a school system once in her career. The Secretary of Education, head honcho of our mighty Department of Education is herself, not technically an educator. However, her last name IS Spellings, which bodes well for a possible future inclusion in Celebrity Taboo.

Now, before I go further, I don't want to send out the wrong vibe. I am not an anarchist/emo/loner/geek/super independent thinker student. I am not one of those kids who stays up late blogging about how much he hates school. I'm in all honors/AP courses (as I have been for all of high school), and my GPA is nestled comfortably in the 3.4-3.8 range. Compound that with an SAT score of 1900, and I'd by lying to you if I said I was really nervous about my future after high school. However, such academic stability shouldn't stop me from venting some rather inane thoughts on the workings of our public school system.

The public school system is not designed to work equally with all children. Which doesn't make a ton of sense, seeing as it's supposed to be the PUBLIC school system. Unless your definition of public is one without handicapped children, retarded children, poor children, stoner children, and children who care more about Dungeons and Dragons then the Algebra quiz (the scary part is, some people's definition do), you're going to have to accept the fact that these kids will be filtering through your schools.

It's never pretty seeing a student crash and burn. It's sort of like seeing a pigeon flying over a road towards a really good source of food (like a garbage can outside of a burger joint), and then halfway over there, deciding he would rather play with the shiny bits of trash in the middle of the highway, swoops down, and gets taken out by the 18 Wheeler of Bad Choices. Hopefully, you got the symbolism there, although I'm sure it was too graphic for some of the kids in my always burgeoning audience.

I have no tie up for this train of thought, as it's late and I need to get back to my independent reading project. Where did I put the water colors?