Where Are We Headed?

Walking into our schools, our teenage selves not only expect respect, but we demand it. Some will deny this, but the average confident teenager will show up already holding themselves with a certain attitude, whether that attitude be exemplary or pitiful. We, most of us filling the shoes of this role, hold our teachers to high standards based on these start-of-the-day expectations but sometimes leave class complaining about that very teacher we expect to deliver their foremost.

However, in my observations, I deduct that we students do not truly air complaints about our teachers the majority of the time. Our complaints are cloaked in a series of jabs at whichever teacher runs the classroom, but where are the complaints rooted? Do our teachers all deserve the blame if we are dissatisfied with our day to day classes?

While I’d be inaccurate to deem all educators works of faultless perfection, I believe that, at least in my school, there are talented teachers who mean well and do their absolute best. Still, my ears are littered with a daily barrage of grumbling new flaws about the same teachers I myself admire. They start here:

“She gave us homework again?” an incredulous whisper hisses snakelike and venomous under my teacher explaining the lesson plan to us. “Well, I had no idea. I don’t have it done.”

Or,

“Is he checking the reading notes today?” another despairs. “I only have a few pages to go! I got home so late last night!”

This may only paraphrase a mixture of student commentary from my school year so far, but it doesn’t change the subject matter. These students, all of them signed up in Advanced Placement courses alongside me, usually go on to badmouth our teachers when they can. Usually, these conversational groans of discontent are nothing that high school students take very seriously, just as long as the teacher doesn’t overhear them. After careful consideration to this viewpoint, I believe we must take our thoughts about our educators into more cautious consideration, for we are damaging ourselves through our actions. This session of complaint could be seen as a group of stressed high schoolers dropping a weight off their shoulders. I could understand that theory to an extent.

But do we have a weight so constant on our shoulders that we feel compelled to drop it at every chance we get? That is weak, and that is the purest form of laziness.

I choose now, after dissecting complaints of peers, friends and, at times, even that voice that lives in the back of every human mind (including my own), that this is a mere excuse for students with insufficient work ethics.

These are the students that want every bit of success their hands may grasp without any of the shoe leather it takes to walk ten miles across burning asphalt. These are the flip-flop students. These are the students that sign up for classes that will contribute towards a higher GPA, passing themselves off as the higher-minded and responsible while they don’t start their homework until ten o’clock at night.

Proof made itself in my AP Physics class. My classmates and I were assigned an egg drop project and had ample time to complete the project. My table mate, however, arrived for days later with no project. No visible remorse revealed itself. He just wanted to get out of trouble without receiving a bad grade or disapproving judgement. His next move was to text his mother, asking to be signed out. She managed to get there in time enough to bail him out of responsibility for his bad decisions. Similarly, there are reports of parents emailing teachers to request that teachers extend due dates on assignments that were due six weeks before. In a study by the Higher Learning Commission, a survey of college professors asked why they believed their students failed showed that thirty eight percent of cited responses said that the reason was that students were unprepared for college work. If near adult students can’t succeed in college and rely on their parents to “solve” their problems, what kind of morale are we building our workforce on? What kind of fiber? Who are these students in reality?

These students are, as a teacher once drilled into my skull, the students that double their odds of failure after high school because they “don’t do that hard stuff.” These students are, if they should succeed through college, the ones who get a job because they have a degree and do not develop a career that started when they earned their degree. According to The Washington Post, only twenty seven percent of recent college graduates have taken a career in the field their degree qualifies them for. Degrees and college tuitions are being wasted. Society is destroying the value of our education system.

My teacher may have seen the reality harshly and lectured us too fiercely, but I cannot admit that she is absolutely wrong, just as I cannot admit that all complainers are failures.

I can’t shake the thought from my head, of course, as I hear the complaining around my desk, and I wish I could turn off the voices of us students berating a valuable teacher and person. Maybe it would stop me wondering who will fail and who will lose or questioning the work ethic of myself and my peers. Such questions can offend and kill a chance at being liked in an environment like the one I muddle through. This overall mood needs someone questioning it, no matter what the consequences.

Because of this, I see a cycle of complaining about a decent, hardworking teacher instead of accepting personal responsibility as a grave character flaw that sets us up for failure in any academic endeavor. High test scores and GPAs are wonderful tidbits for a college application, but the application isn’t much more than a paper door to invite the best version of a student to start their life. If we choose to leave the best version of ourselves with our foot caught in that door, complaining that we can’t move forward because we’re stuck, we will never take another good step. Even if we manage to pull our foot from that door, we’ll always walk with a limp, wishing we had a some parental buttress or a crutch of excuses.

Take responsibility for academics now. Drop false blame with the crutch because it’s time a generation of high schoolers see the need to grow in not only our knowledge but our natures as well.

Or, I suppose, we may face our future as it will come, decades of a growing margin beyond that twenty seven percent. Our age is the time accept blame for our actions and affirm a no-excuses lifestyle to ensure our livelihoods, committing to more statistics ruling in our favor. It’s up to us.

Will we be the generation that failed to thrive or the generation that thrived in the face of failure?

Citations:

• "Students Working Together." N.p., n.d. Web. <http://tse1.mm.bing.net/th?&id=OIP.M4ad575f7f018a3240d0f16b9fd0cd87bo0&w=300&h=300&c=0&pid=1.9&rs=0&p=0>.
• "Why Do Students Fail? Faculty's Perspective." Why Do Students Fail? Faculty's Perspective. N.p., n.d. Web. 16 Dec. 2015. <http://cop.hlcommission.org/Learning-Environments/cherif.html>.
• "Only 27 Percent of College Grads Have a Job Related to Their Major."Washington Post. The Washington Post, n.d. Web. 16 Dec. 2015. <https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/wonk/wp/2013/05/20/only-27-percent-of-college-grads-have-a-job-related-to-their-major/>.

Poisoned History

Haven't we all had a Dick Whitt?

A Dick Whitt is a term my own AP US History teacher, Mr. Borenstein, coined to describe a horrible history teacher with even worse teaching methods, taken from his own experiences with a Mr. Dick Whitt that tricked him into believing he hated history.

If I could guess correctly, we could all do a trace back into our school days to a history teacher that made us despise the subject, even if only for that school year. The cause itself of hating history is not specifically important. However, resenting history or believing that learning it is pointless is one of the central issues with our modern day high school students.

These students love to use terms such as "YOLO," meaning "You Only Live Once." Statements like this lead to many students choosing to live only in the moment without care for the world around or before them. Most of these students fail to realize or wonder about the application of our history to our development now. They certainly don't think about how the days of their lifetime will also be history eventually and that their achievements or lack thereof create the value of our generation for the future. If someone were to address these young adults as already being history, they may think that what they hate is more valuable than they knew a moment earlier.

Applying history to our life today is highly important, and we need to look for ways to convince students to acknowledge the value it holds.

Addressing all we've learned from the Victorian Age is a perfect example. Early Victorian times were some of the most dangerous of Great Britain for its citizens. While they were on the right track in terms of innovation and demand for health products, it wasn't until the Mid-Victorian times that they began truly developing viable scientific knowledge about their lifestyles. In the beginning, the Victorian people weren't even aware that their treasured home environment had rampant bacteria, poisons and death traps waiting to take their lives. Their lack of knowledge led to 25% infant death rates along with arsenic and highly flammable --actually explosive-- celluloid in products ranging from color dyes and material in clothing to wallpaper and other common household accessories. The deadly chemicals were over-the-counter products without regulation. This allowed Victorians to purchase them regularly if they chose. During this time, children constantly died from overdoses on Boracic acid added to "freshen" milk or Bovine Tuberculosis in the drink from the very bacteria that made the sour taste the acid covered. Not all deaths from pharmacy purchases were accidental though. Convenient to obtain and undetectable in post-mortems, arsenic also spiked the number of murders by poison. Once a brute match, Victorian murder morphed into a game of chess, slow and agonizing for the losing party.

Most people don't think of these horrid times anymore. We've fixed those problems and no longer worry about such an ignorant and fearsome reality. Although that is true, our sense of awareness is slipping. As it slips, we find ourselves becoming essentially Victorian again.

We forget about one of the primary reasons to educate ourselves about the many faults of the past, prevention. Knowing about the twisted and adulterated ages without proper safety law that can stop us from falling back in time to negative reality. Recognizing faults in former societies can help us recognize the faults in our own. For instance, we no longer have dangers such as Boracic acid and tuberculosis carrying germs in our milk. Does that somehow prove our milk is safe? Are modern additives like the hormone RBHT in dairy or estrogen in soy safe to ingest in large quantities? Not to mention that the majority of people who love buying new t-shirts probably couldn't tell you what the factories used to dye their clothing. We assume, as the Victorians foolishly did in their time, that our most popular items are safe. As a result, we choose to deny and ignore stories with claims that certain foods lead to deadly diseases such as diabetes and cancer.

Choosing to acknowledge and apply history is choosing to avoid ignorance in our own lives. It's our duty and obligation to make our next generation aware of the importance of the past to our future if we want our race to continue moving forward and lasting. First, we must note that we are flawed, and then, we must transform into preachers of reform. We must search for everyday changes to build up modern industry and health where it lacks and set the example for our students. Otherwise, they will continue to believe there's no reason to listen in history class, but they will have every reason to accuse us of absolute hypocrisy.

While the undeniable truth is that we "only live once," we should want the world we leave behind to live forever.

Citations:

• "Cocaine Tooth Drops." N.p., n.d. Web. <http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/9/99/Cocaine_tooth_drops.png>.

Do Electronics Damage Independent Thought in Our Youth?

All around my high school, I hear voices repeating all they've seen or heard through media. Jingles quoting Rick Asley's Never Gonna Give You Up, SpongeBob's The F.U.N. Song and Taylor Swift's Shake It Off bounce through the halls. Even obscure, nonsensical shouts of "JOHHHHNNN CEENNA!" echoed in my ears one class period when my teacher stepped out of the room for a moment.

Sometimes, we get the reference, remember something rather funny and laugh it away. Other times we get annoyed to the point of grinding our teeth and form fantasies of whipping around to growl two simple words, "Shut up,"

Where do we get these odd coined phrases, and why do we feel compelled to repeat them? Ask any person, and they'll shrug and say that it's funny. However, the media could actually imprint the things we find "funny" onto our memories to the point we think of them first instead of formulating an original conversation starter.

While it's true that simple "gifs," "memes" and references implanting in memories are rarely dangerous, technology's lasting footprint on our brain has far worse effects. Recent studies find that the way we depend upon our devices actually alters the composition of our brains when it comes to simple problem solving situations.

Technology wires some students so much that they fear math without a calculator and believe themselves incapable of strong mental solving skills. Technology is in our classrooms, in our phones and at our fingertips, leaving elementary principles such as simple multiplication tables up to twelve or carrying digits in the dust.

When I listened to my fellow classmates after we finished our PSAT, I heard scattered but constant claims of this:

"I BOMBED that part without the calculator. I didn't get any of that."

What does this mean for these students in college if they don't change now? Being average or lower at math is a curse when that calculator is inches away, making your hand itch to grab it.

To my surprise, I recently discovered that the calculator curse doesn't only affect the struggling and average students negatively.

Just last week, when I attended Math Honors Society tutoring, FIVE tutors said that they couldn't tell me how to solve my homework problem without a calculator. I protested immediately to their solution that I could just punch it in because my teacher wouldn't allow a calculator on my midterm the next day.

I received a frown and an "I don't know what else to do," before they began wracking their brains for the lost lesson they failed to retain.

Thirty minutes of internet searches and five minutes of explanation later, I finished two problems with a tutor. It bothered me to the bone. They were the best math students in my school, recognized for their achievements, and even they preferred the supposed lesser of two evils. Developers of the device like Willhelm Schickard and Blaise Pascal invented calculators to assist mathematicians, not act in their place. Our modern times are proof that their meaning is butchered, along with those of countless other inventors.

This leads me into an article titled Why Johnny Can't Add Without A Calculator. The author offers many valid criticisms towards technology's effect on human skill level but puts their main point quite simply:

"Math and science can be hard to learn--and that's OK. The proper job of a teacher is not to make it easy, but to guide students through the difficulty by getting them to practice and persevere."

The logic itself is simpler than its application. We need to instill in our students that they must build up their problem solving stamina and creativity to look for different solutions on their own without pounding endlessly away on plastic buttons. Encouraging the study and memorization of the in-depth details is better for students in the long run. It will take longer to teach and learn. Despite that, it will stop embarrassing moments like the aforementioned incident of the five honors students.

We want our students confident in problem solving and their ability to think for themselves. The best way to mold our future complex thinkers and innovators for success, while preserving their dignity along the way, is to wean them off using technology as a first resort instead of as a necessary one.

Citations:

• Kakaes, Konstantin. "Why Johnny Can’t Add Without a Calculator." N.p., n.d. Web. 26 Oct. 2015. <http://www.slate.com/articles/technology/future_tense/2012/06/math_learning_software_and_other_technology_are_hurting_education_.html>.
• "The History of the Calculator." The History of the Calculator. N.p., n.d. Web. 26 Oct. 2015. <http://www.thecalculatorsite.com/articles/units/history-of-the-calculator.php>.
• "The Struggle For Productive Struggle." Emergent Math. N.p., n.d. Web. <http://emergentmath.files.wordpress.com/2012/12/calvinandsusie.jpg>.

Great Expectations or Just Unrealistic?

                In our age of higher education standards and helicopter-parenting, do we pressure our students to unnecessary extremes to reach what we believe is the modern definition of success? Never before have we given our young learners so many opportunities to learn at a higher level, but never before have we expected them to soar so closely to excellence. New queries and studies revolve around a central question: Is this newfound stress thrust upon those enthusiastic, overachieving and approval seeking students the right way to create a future?

                Not all students fit the bill of the adjectives used above, but every student who enrolls in one or more of these higher level classes has a drive to succeed. Some quake under the pressure, while others find alternate but not always healthy ways to deal. A lucky group finds itself motivated by the atmosphere of demands and difficulty. Avoiding anxiety is virtually impossible for any human being, especially a teenager.

                Our modern and ever-changing methods of testing and how we define achievement have exceeded reason. In some cases, they may create unhealthy environments for our youth population.

                For example, an article entitled High-Stress High School documents the specific rigorous and Advanced Placement courses a private school offers. Parents spend an average yearly sum of ten thousand dollars so their children have opportunities such as sports, music, student government and SAT Prep all while attending the top schools.

                The article quickly moves past listing the benefits of the schools, stating this about these "best options": "'These experiences can cause kids to burn out by the time they get to college, or to feel the psychological and physical effects of stress for much of their adult lives,' says Marya Gwadz, a senior research scientist at the New York University."

                How can we say that we are only providing our children with the best if we put their future successes on the line to do it? For what is a college admissions essay backed by the perfect SAT and ACT scores if less than 2/3 of all college students graduate? The intensity that high school students work at today has the potential to destroy their functionality by the time they try to decide their future. This is what Gwadz means using the term "burn out" when she describes the effects of our all around attitude towards this issue.

                Today we define success as working as hard and as long and at the highest level we can without failing to meet the standards of a system. The flaw is, this system is built upon how everyone around an individual manages. Instead of success being weighted by understanding of concepts as a whole, it's weighted through tests and lining up grade by grade in comparison.

                Students should have high expectations and challenges at all times because, without these in life, they do not know how to learn, especially in the face of a challenge far greater than what you learn in school. Expecting perfection in every area of a student's life is not the same as this though. It is essential for our future that we learn this early on, so students don't continue developing bad habits that harm their learning more than help it.

Citations:

• "High-Stress High School." N.p., n.d. Web. <http://www.theatlantic.com/education/archive/2015/10/high-stress-high-school/409735/>.
• "College Dropout Statistics." N.p., n.d. Web. <http://www.collegeatlas.org/college-dropout.html>.

The Bittersweet Girl

“I don’t want to be your friend anymore.”

My stomach lurched up and knocked into my heart, starting a bruise as my brain zoomed in circles around our conversation. What did I do?

“I’ve come to a decision,” my best friend of four years told me. Happiness that she'd found direction blended with the selfish release of breath. The release that came only when I realized this could bring an end to my sleep loss from talking her through her own split emotion/person insomnia. Mostly, however, I was relieved for her. I’d hoped her decision would lead her away from all the at home hurt she’d toiled through.

“What did you decide?” I asked, fingers crossed that my happy friend was returning from her depressed, yearlong wreck of a self. I was nearly correct.

That’s when she blindsided me with those eight cruel words: I don’t want to be your friend anymore.

After I recovered from the startling punch, despite the lump clogging my throat and the tears beginning to sting and blur my vision, I asked, “What do you mean?”

“Recently I’ve decided to leave all my friends. Being by myself is the only way I can feel better."

I was done with texting her at that point.

The whole act was cold, heartless! Hands trembling, heart bursting and sobs shaking, I called her. Her answering voice was tired and flat, free of any standard shared pain. Emotionless. I begged her to let me know she was all right. In my distress, I promised to give her space and always be there for her if she truly needed to be alone.

But she didn’t.

She’s still friends with our friends. I’m still friends with our friends. I still feel like her friend. She’s just not my friend now.

No one except for the two of us even knows that anything bad happened.

I still feel her lay blows to my yellow black bruises, the sign of an incompletely healed heart, as I pass warily by her in the halls every day, ducking my face, hiding.

But she gets to laugh -it's wholeheartedly- at her conversation with the friend I don’t get to see anymore, the friend who unknowingly took her side. She doesn’t see me anymore either, likely by choice. My own best friend.

Then I feel deathly alone.

I’m still not over this feeling, and I hesitate to make new friends. Although I’m often lonely, I've stopped minding. My head is clearer after her. Her erratic behavior made me more cautious when picking my companions, for I don't want another reason to experience how she makes me burn out fresh blooded anger in that cursed hall. I detest the way the anger feels, and I despise the way she can monopolize my pain. However, these feelings brought better control over my idividual emotions. They no longer preoccupy me for more than a minute or two at most. I actually came to this decision myself:

If I can help it, I’ll never let myself be deceived into thinking an impassive is a friend again. Her cruelty gave me a torturous wisdom that surpasses the wish that I could put my personal injuries away forever. I won’t even let myself seek revenge when I wish she felt the same as I did. In fact, I could announce that message at any second to anyone who dares be unkind to me in the future.

For that life lesson, I can never repay her. I can never morally acheive payback.

.

The Point

No point in cleaning my room,

Dirty or not, I don't feel anything, and dirty is easier.

No point, no point, no point, no point.

No point in doing homework,

Six hours later, I feel so tired that my brain forgets everything anyway.

No point, no point, no point, no point.

No point in listening to covering music,

My parents fight too loudly, and even if I manage to feel sleep, I have nightmares of only their yelling voices.

No point, no point, no point, no point.

No point in staying,

But I do, because, for some reason, I feel hope and want for things to be better sometime soon.

Point, point, point, point.

Ten Sentences A Day Keep My Teacher Away: 2

Everyone called him Mr. Faust, despite his mayoral status. He was like a general in plain soldier's clothing on the battlefield, free of decoration and notoriety, safe to lead the faces in his crowd. James was happy to follow that habit because he'd never lower himself to acknowledging his higher ranking. He'd known by meeting Faust's eyes that he was aware of his rightful place under James' boot. The fear told him all.

 Faust couldn't conceal that he'd spotted James in the town marketplace that morning. The brief falter of his expression was enough to tell even the townswoman he spoke with that something was the matter. He wished her well before departing for home. He knew very well that, while leaving to flee again was his only chance, this chance was not in his townspeople's cards.

James pursued him on foot, not caring what level of crud or disease he stepped on, for none could be so loathsome underneath his foot as his beetle escaping through a rubber crack.

Ten Sentences A Day Keep My Teacher Away: 1

Before I begin, I'd like to explain my idea. I enjoy writing stories and don't won't to overwhelm a reader with too many large chunks because this is a blog. Therefore, I will write a mere ten sentences in hopes they will catch someone's eye and improve my writing as a plus. All of these posts will be titled like this one. Thank you.

Inspector James was a reserved and accustomed man. He wasn't bright in his expression but in his spirit, really a creature of unrelenting habit. That is why the beetle frustrated him so. He couldn't crush the thing as he wanted to because it kept skittering out of his reach with it's irritatingly clicking legs. He'd chased it all about the table and never succeed in smashing it. Now, by what must have been a stinking combination of sheer luck and stupidity, the beetle was his presiding mayor, still ever a convict who shouldn't have the boots he must quiver in daily.

John Faust never saw himself as this beetle, instead deciding he was wrongly accused of his crimes. Day in and day out for years without rest, he'd fled James. His journey led him far, to the people of a town where his dead memories lay in a sorry, soggy grave. He'd escaped James for a good time, leaving his generosity and reform to brew in the townspeople long enough for them to call him mayor elect.

James smirked as he thought this: Wonderful. He's just stepped up to the plate for them and will have to return to his dung before I drop that very plate atop him.

The Unattainable 35

I fell in love this weekend.

It's as if a lightning bolt of joy struck it's electric burst through my heart.

I'm giddy inside, my pulse is quickened, and it feels like my insides -my gut, my heart again- are all quivering.

Sir Thomas Moore's poetry, all together in a short, pocket-sized antique. Crisp gold painted edges on the pages and yellowed, sweet smelling paper underneath. I knew I wanted it. I prayed to the spirit of literature because I knew what such a thing was worth, and I did not have that worth. Still, I wanted those words I'd never spoken, read or memorized to grace my lips in silent mouthing. It was a love like no other I'd known because of my youth, friend or family, man or woman. I wanted to beg for that book to come home loosely wrapped in my sweaty palms.

But my love wasn't attainable.

I didn't even have eight whole dollars to my name, and the book would cost me thirty five.

Money kills me sometimes.

Lacking Poetry Prowess...

I am a French revolutionary, a secret agent or a spy, a girl who has but one eye, and I don't use words like solitary (I prefer alone); I am a writer who must do less and a reader who must do more, so toss me a stone.

I may not write thrillingly -or even with merit-, but , if you want the effort, I won't spare it.