Thursday, June 16, 2011

Thoughts of the non-typical 16 year old.

It's that time that they call the end of the school year...
The last days are always the same for the 4 nostalgic years of high school - picture this...
students clearing out their lockers, seniors crying and hugging, freshman yelling "I'm going to miss you" in return for "we must hang out over the summer", and the exchange of goodbyes.

As I attempted to gracefully carry around my 15 books and entered each class to return them, I found myself psychologically and physically releasing the weight that was put on with each class.
I reminisced to the all-nighters, project due dates, and studying off of my note cards on the subway.
I realized I was saying bye to the year with each textbook that I handed over...
Even Facebook adding an acquaintance feels like better closure.

But that was it - no memory of it, just my messy scribbled Nova under "name."
Textbooks are just like people...there's what you see on the outside - the reputation.
They have strong covers, pages of intelligence, and their effect is that overly loud and dramatic narration in your head about biomes.

But you don't meet the subtext, the meaning within a meaning.
No one ever stops to think about who held that textbook years ago as we all sit shocked at a students signature found inside the book from the year 87.'
Was it a student that was trying to pass his first test in the whole year?
Was it a student with a family connection to Harvard with ace-ing A's?
Was it a student who was going to be the first one to go to college?
Was it a student with pressuring parents who wasn't allowed to go out to the biggest party on a school night?
Was it a student who suffered from bullying and being teased for being a 'nerd'?
Was it a student whose priority was helping his immigrant family run the restaurant til 11 each night?
We are ALL more than test grades.
We are storytellers of existence in this Social Darwinist institution of ranking.


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