Don’t you find it ridiculous that they tell us to be unique, to be individuals, then they give us a standardized test that makes us all one faceless herd? Because I do.
“Good luck on your first day of school honey!” my mom yelled from the kitchen. Today would have been five years since cancer took her away from me.
She entered the religious school a true believer. She graduated an atheist.
The day he received his rejection letter from Harvard, he buried his face in a towel and wept. He wasn’t sad for himself, but for his parents.
Her friend had traveled a long way to visit but the school refused to allow her to bring any guests to class.
He tagged along anyway, and she introduced him as a foreign exchange student to all of her teachers, while he nodded awkwardly and pieced together broken English which was, in fact, his native tongue.
The tests we have in life – school examinations or job performance evaluations – are seldom reliable and should not be considered bases for assessing your capabilities. If you pass or if you fail, it does not mean that you are superior or inferior to others; the real test is if you know how to deal with failure…and if you know how to handle success.
We graduated virgins, and made sure that title didn’t stick for long. How was I to know it would drive him to insanity?
When the school melted it was a blow to the entire community.
Next time we’ll build it from chocolate rather than ice-cream.
Is school a sanding machine that smoothes us all off?
Or is it a hacking machine that cuts off vital parts?
“He’s just shy,” Grandma insisted, and convinced Henry’s mother to enroll him in daycare despite his tantrums whenever they went to the mall or to playdates.
Tell that to twenty screaming toddlers with simultaneous and spontaneous nosebleeds.
I’ll betcha this happened at Jedi school a lot.
“Whya hitting yourself?”
“All right class, before we turn on our screens and hear about the great pipeline disaster of 2037, I need you to reach under your seats and bring out your particulate masks. Make sure they’re tight, because Weatherman Jim has predicted a level seven fall this afternoon, and we don’t want any of that nasty stuff to get in our little lungs, now do we?”
They thought it was a good idea to sneak into the school at night and change their grades until muffled laughter came down from the dark classrooms in the empty hallways. The laughter sounded way too young to be the school’s current students.
I stopped my car in front of the lollipop man helping a long queue of kids crossing the road. Just when I stepped on the gas pedal did I notice that the kids were being ushered into a restaurant called Young Meat.