16 | School | 6/18/25

 This will be a bit of a different entry. For context, I am 19 and currently in college. I had to experience the entire public schooling system (besides one year of private schooling) up to this point, from Pre-Kindergarten up to my Senior year of high school. I live in the USA and have done so throughout my education. If you want an idea of the average(?) Gen Z American public schooling experience, this will be your chance to learn. Prepare yourself for a detailed recounting of some of the most hellish years of my entire life.

Chapter One: Preschool (AKA Pre-K).

I began preschool when I was either 4 or 5, I can't remember. I went to a school with only two teachers that educated students on how to speak basic Spanish, as well as English of course. That was the main thing I remembered about preschool education. I learned how to count to ten in Spanish and still retain the knowledge to this day: uno, dos, tres, quatro, cinco, seis, siete, ocho, nueve, diez.

We also got the opportunity to eat lunch, take naps, and play with toys. I would often bring my own toys to the school, but I admit I was rather protective of them. If someone seemed like they were about to take my toys away from me, I'd get upset at them. Regardless, I had fun with the other kids. I don't remember exactly how I spoke to others because it was so long ago, but I'm sure I came off awkwardly considering none of my peers seemed particularly interested in me.

As previously mentioned, there were two teachers. One of them was quite a headcase. I remember one particular day where we were eating lunch and once we finished we were allowed to nap. I had brought my lunch but for some reason I was packed a food I didn't like (I believe it was a burrito or a wrap?). I don't blame my parents for this, they likely just wanted me to try something new and I may have very well agreed to it. The teacher, however, as not as open-minded to the idea of me not liking my food. She told me I had to eat my food or else I wouldn't be allowed to nap. Keep in mind, at this point, every other child was asleep except for me. The lights were out. I was in the dark being pressured by this teacher to forcefeed myself a food I didn't want to eat. She may have even tried to forcefeed me herself. It was a rather ominous and upsetting scenario for someone my age. Outside of this one situation, she was just generally more strict and seemingly not very patient with her students. Odd that she chose to be a preschool teacher.

The other teacher was, from memory, a lot nicer. She seemed to actually enjoy being around a bunch of toddlers. After the aforementioned forcefeeding debacle, presumably as students were leaving the school, the teacher talked to me and tried to cheer me up after I cried. That's all I remember about her unfortunately. I guess she wasn't as involved as the other teacher. Despite that I still think of her more fondly, and I hope she went on to live a fulfilling life. My dad picked me up and saw me in my distressed state. I told both of my parents about the debacle and they later agreed that my preschool was maybe not the best pick.

Another fond memory from preschool was when my dad gifted me two plushies. They were both guinea pigs, one brown and black (Winnie), the other pink (Pinky). I still have them now. I absolutely adored these plushies and brought them almost anywhere I went. That, no doubt, helped me find the comfort in plushies I still have even in college. I find myself struggling to separate myself from them.

One last instance I remember is us brushing our teeth in the preschool. I don't know why we did this. I just have a vague memory of it happening. Maybe it was a pre-naptime routine or something.

Needless to say, preschool was a nice introduction into what levels of strictness some of my future teachers would have. As well as how nice and understanding some others would be. It's almost like a pilot episode to my education life.

Chapter Two: Elementary School (First Half)

The first half of Elementary school is kindergarten, first grade, and second grade.

Graduating preschool was the beginning of something I had no way of properly preparing for. Not only would curriculum difficulty begin to ramp up aggressively, but social life slowly but surely became more difficult for me. I'll keep this section somewhat brief as it did not cultivate a majority of my school-related trauma.

Kindergarten was easily one of my favorite classes. If you're unfamiliar or have forgotten, in Elementary school, you typically only go to one class with one teacher, with the exception of electives like gym, creative classes, and whatever else. My electives, along with every other student, were gym, music, art, technology, and the library. Obviously we also had recess and lunch. We had one elective per day, and they would each change. All of this is to say, our primary classes with our singular teacher would take up most of our day but we would have breaks in between. My kindergarten class had a very nice teacher. She encouraged us a lot and celebrated our achievements. Notably, when I visited California with my dad, she allowed me to brag to the class about it. I also impressed the class by being able to roll my tongue into a burrito shape. Call it payoff from preschool, I call it misdirection for my life. Otherwise, I don't remember much about kindergarten besides us learning to read and do simple math.

First intermission: Recess.

Recess is the dream of any Elementary school student. Everything in the school day leads up to the moment where we can expend our energy and our minds with our fellow students with very little restrictions. Ah, yet more misdirection for my life. 

I made a majority of my friends in Recess, as well as getting the opportunity every now and then to talk with the teachers. I met two of my first ever friends here, one boy and one girl. The girl was my best friend for some time, however I cannot recall her name or appearance in the slightest. After kindergarten, she basically ditched me. I believe she moved to another school shortly thereafter. Hopefully that was not because of me. The boy, on the other hand, was more so an obsessive guy who had a crush on me. At 6, I was not exactly fond of getting into any.. "romantic" relationships. However he would often give me gifts to try and share his appreciation of me. These gifs were usually necklaces or bracelets with hearts on them. I doubt I still posses these. One particular instance I remember is him yanking on my hair to try and get my attention, I guess. It caused me to cry and a teacher separated us. My mother, I think, explained that it was just a way boys express affection. I was not convinced. I think we became somewhat passive friends afterwards but we eventually broke away from eachother.

My third friend was another girl, African American, who was shy much like me. However our friendship was rather unstable. If either of us did something "naughty", we would tattle on eachother. No secrets kept between us. If she cut her hair using school scissors, I would tattle. If I said the word "heck" as the punchline to a knock-knock joke, she would tattle. This ultimately culminated in a rather shameful moment of backlash on my behalf. We were lining up to leave recess and we had gotten into some kind of argument. I eventually yelled that I would "stab her with a knife" if she didn't bow to my whimsy. She did not. And she tattled on me. Which I deserved this time around. That's a very uncouth thing for a first grader to say. We broke off quickly after first grade.

Later on, I believe in 3rd grade, I would meet someone I am still friends with to this day. I won't say his name for the sake of privacy (besides he has since transitioned and I don't know if he still goes by the same name), but our friendship exceeded basic school grounds. We would often visit eachothers' houses even into middle school. I'll get more into the nitty gritty later.

I met many other friends in the gaps. I met another friend who also later went on to transition. She (I think is their preferred pronoun) and I had some pretty tense battles constantly. Again, our friendship carried beyond school and into our homes. We also continued being friends into the beginning of middle school, but we eventually broke it off after a few too many fights sent me over the edge. I haven't spoken to her in years, but she has tried to come back in contact with me. I just don't think it's gonna work out. It is funny how many transgender friends I've met, though.

Finally, I met a bit of a nasty group in 4th grade. I was a bit of a jerk at this point in my life, though not nearly as bad as middle school. I don't remember exactly what happened, but I had met a girl named Gabby and we became somewhat friends. I guess I had been mildly mean to her a bit. This culminated in me trying to roleplay with her and her group, and they shoved me into the mud. I tried to play along... but it hurt. I ran off and told a teacher. The next day, to my surprise, ANOTHER girl named Gabby was summoned to... deal with me. She shook me and yelled at me not to tattle on (the other) Gabby and her friends. From then on I found it difficult to get back into their clique.

Those are the main recess stories I remember relating to friendship. I did meet other friends who I later broke off with. We also had this event called Super Kids Day once a year where a bunch of attractions would fill the playground. It took me until fifth grade to finally get dunked by a water bucket. For some reason I was just afraid to. But my god. Super Kids Day was so much fun. What I wouldn't give to experience that again.

First grade was among the worse years of Elementary school. No, not even in general. It somehow gets worse! The teacher was very strict and surprisingly similar to my preschool teacher in appearance. She was not the same person, though, thank god. She set up this system that if we spoke (yes, just SPOKE) in the school, we would have our behavior score lowered. Green was the default, yellow was a warning, orange was a phone call to a parent, and red was presumably a suspension. For speaking!

Well, I exaggerate the truth a bit. It seems that's a habit I struggle to break. One experience I remember very vividly was when we were given the opportunity to have a bathroom break. The bathroom was coincidentally almost next to the classroom, and so the teacher would stand near the bathroom and, I guess, watch and listen for us. Fair enough. But I guess I was in a bit of a chatterbox mood and, despite being told by the teacher not to talk in the bathroom, I tried talking to a peer in the stalls. When I left the bathroom, the teacher said she had heard me talking and that she would lower my behavior score. I denied the allegations (despite them being true), and I may have gotten away with it too... if it weren't for that middling kid. A peer who was also in the bathroom seemingly recognized my voice and tattled to the teacher that I had indeed been talking in the bathroom. Although in the moment I wanted to hip-drop that child, we would miraculously become pretty friendly later in Elementary school. Regardless, the teacher got quite pissed at me and, for talking and lying, got my score lowered to orange. I seek to avoid punishment and I only got punished more. Assumedly my parents were called, I can't remember if they ever talked to me about it. From that day on I kept my fat yap shut.

I don't remember much else from first grade. I guess I continued to try and be on my best behavior and assumedly it paid off. I never got suspended throughout my entire education. Goes to show that talking in a bathroom, a location that in no way impedes on our education, is worthy of punishment. Great.

Second intermission: Electives.

I have quite a lot of memories from electives, but to avoid boring you, I will keep it short. They were mostly positive experiences, and as I am trying to make school look evil, I will omit most of them.

Music class was a class that I loathed a bit. We would watch films about the history of music and its practical applications. We would play the recorder. We did a lot of other boring stuff that I don't remember. The most fun part was free time, something we had in pretty much every elective. In music, we had the opportunity to play any instrument in class freely, or use tablets to play music-related games. The only good part of the class! I was not a good recorder player and I very quickly ditched the instrument after the required Hot Cross Buns lesson. I hated it. The only instrument I mildly enjoyed was the drums, but obviously we were not gifted full drum kits. We played bongos or one lonely cymbal.

Art class, on the other hand, was my favorite. Indicative only of the fact that I am currently an artist. We painted, we doodled, we made collages and sculptures out of papier-mâché. I later joined an art club in fifth grade that happened in the same classroom after school. I was a star student and gifted an exclusive T-shirt. It was very delightful indeed! One negative memory I do have is the time I had a particularly nasty falling out with one of my "friends" at the time. I said some bad stuff, stuff I can't recall, and he became permanently avoidant of me. As I said earlier, I was becoming a bit of an asshole later into school.

Gym class was pretty fun. We got to play sports like soccer or tennis, and sometimes we were even allowed to roll around on floor scooters. That was the only part that really made me excited for gym class. Otherwise, the gym class is where attendances would be held. We would have plays cultivated in music class, in which we would practice choreography and sing in front of the ENTIRE SCHOOL, or we might have special guests appear to teach us random stuff. Notably we all got doused in liquid nitrogen one time. Besides that, we also had dog tag ceremonies, where we would come on stage and be handed dog tags based on our accomplishments. I unfortunately do not have these anymore as they were lost to time, but they often involved academic excellence and perfect attendance. Also, if you contributed well to the school in general, you could get the Principal's award. I never did myself, sadly. They were a symbol of pride and they were some of the only accessories we were allowed to wear in school.

Technology class was nothing special. We learned how to type and learned basic code in Scratch. We also got the opportunity to draw in KidPix every now and then. Easily the best part. The main struggle here was my inability to remember my password. Everyone else memorized it easy-peasy, but it took me until 3rd or 4th grade to finally memorize it. It irked the teacher, no doubt. I also needed the guidance of student body to help me find my classroom up until the same grade. Potentially the emergence of... a mental disorder I only now started becoming familiar with. I won't go into it here since it's not relevant.

Lastly, the library. We went here to borrow books and read. That's about it. We would be allowed to pick one or two books, check them out using a computer, and then return them a week or so later by using another computer to check them in. Every now and then the Scholastic Book Fair would come around and we would be allowed to buy books. I did not understand the concept of money the first time this fair came around. I thought, during the pre-order day, I could just pick up any books I wanted and take them home with me. I was put in my place. While others got to take books home, I just sat there confused why I wasn't allowed to. I did buy a handful of books in future years, including Diary of a Wimpy Kid and Captain Underpants.

Second grade was not very eventful. The teacher was nice, and math became more of a pressing subject. I didn't do great. We got handed these 100 question pages that we had to answer in a set time limit of 5-10 minutes or so. They were often simple addition, then subtraction, then multiplication, and finally division. It was lame and unengaging, much like the obsessive use of textbooks, but I did alright.

I can't remember exactly what grade it was, but eventually I realized I might need glasses. I often was forced to sit in the back of the classroom (as seating was assigned by the teacher) and had to squint to MAYBE read the words on the whiteboard. I ended up getting glasses when I was under or around 10 years old. I did quite poorly without them because I could barely engage. Could I have asked to sit closer to the front? Sure. But the teachers were a bit intimidating. Notably my second grade teacher who was male. That's why I suspect it might have been second grade.

Third intermission: The Cafeteria.

There is not much to say about the cafeteria, however I felt it somewhat deserved its own section for how... poorly I believe the cafeteria can be handled in public schooling.

Notably, if you cannot afford to bring lunch from home, you have to buy it at the school. Seems a bit counterintuitive, really. You can't get free food from the school, you STILL have to pay for it. Thankfully I never did. Only once or twice did I go up to the cafeteria lady to get food. I remember getting a Rice Krispy bar before knowing it had gluten. I have celiac. Oh boy.

Secondary and related, there were occasions where we could bring treats to school if it was our birthday. Kids would often bring cupcakes or pizza. But obviously! They also had gluten in them! All I could do was solemnly lick the frosting off and discard the cupcake. In the case of pizza, I just had to turn it down. Many people wondered why. It was not fun explaining it to them while they happily chowed down on their delicious food with no regard for my emotions. For my birthday one year, I decided to bring cupcakes to the school. They were not store-bought, as at the time, gluten free baked goods were very uncommon or just plain gross. We made them at home using a gluten free chocolate cupcake mix. I was giddy with excitement! I thought about how fun it would be to hand them out to the students. My mother and I arrived at the school with our cupcakes, and the staff inquired about the source of them. We said they were home-baked. The staff declared we could not hand them out because they HAD to be store-bought. For a risk of... what... food poisoning? My hopes and dreams were crushed in that moment, and I was forced to eat the cupcakes by myself. What an absolutely ridiculous reason to crush a child's excitement on their birthday. I'm still pissed at the staff for doing that to me.

Lastly, when I was in fourth and fifth grade, I opted to help clean the tables and sweep the floors after lunch time. This gave me a free excuse to be late to class and socialize with anyone else willing to do the same. I also just had fun with cleaning. My best friend from third grade joined the chores with me. We made that cafeteria shine! I'll happily do the janitor's job for absolutely no downsides at all.

Oh, right, and in first grade, a peer told me that if I had large buck teeth, I would need braces. I did indeed get braces in middle school. Thanks unnamed peer.

Chapter Three: Elementary School (Second Half)

The second half of Elementary school is third grade, fourth grade, and fifth grade.

Most of my memories of third and fourth grade are pretty forgotten. It was incredibly uneventful, but this is where school started getting properly difficult. My teachers were both nice (from memory). The third grade teacher in particular almost became a bit of a friend to me. She'd talk to me often. It was nice. I guess I'll leave it at that since I have no other outstanding memories.

Fourth intermission: STEM.
STEM stands for Science, Technology, Engineering, and Math. It was a curriculum that kind of existed on the side of our main classes, where every now and then we would go into a trailer and learn about boring stuff. 

I had been in this trailer in the past for another reason. See, in my earlier half of Elementary school, I was exceeding my education. I got put into a special class that taught us more soft skills and unrelated jargon that I found pretty interesting. My favorite course was when we learned about fingerprints. We would stamp our fingers in ink and press them onto tape and/or paper and determine which of the three variants we had. I believe I am mostly a swirl fingerprint haver, but don't tell that to the police.

In the STEM classes, our teacher was rather... odd. She had this voice that sounded like she constantly had something caught in her throat. I would keep clearing my throat unintentionally because of it. I don't remember a lot else about this class besides two instances.

In one, we had to work in teams to build miniature, self-propelling cars. I think we did alright. I feel like it involved a marshmallow for some reason. Maybe it was the driver, I dunno.

In another, we were cutting paper using scissors. I don't remember what for, some kind of diagram I guess. The teacher was instructing us on what to do, and I was cutting away at my paper. Something I did not realize is that apparently I was pointing the scissors towards myself. The teacher rushed over to me, snatched the scissors out of my hands, and loudly announced to the class that you could stab yourself in the heart if you're not careful with cutting, and to NEVER cut towards you. She then angrily threw the scissors back onto the table towards me. A bit hypocritical, don't you think? That traumatized me, and I was extremely careful with my scissor usage for some time. Unnecessarily so, considering we were using dull scissors on sheets of paper. Lots of little experiences like these slowly shaped me into the overly anxious and paranoid person I am today.

Fifth grade was the most interesting grade. We were warned at the end of fourth grade that we would be going to three classes instead of just one. I was baffled. What do you mean we have periods instead of just ONE class?? Don't worry, young me, that was only the beginning. Which is precisely why they started simple in fifth grade, I presume.

Because of this, we obviously had three teachers. I'll go one by one, starting with homeroom.

My homeroom teacher was male, and thus he intimidated me a bit. Both him and I would not understand the extent until a bit later. I did talk to him as much as I talked to any other teacher (not very much), and I would answer questions in class and whatnot. Eventually, for reasons unknown, I withdrew. I would freeze when called on in class and not answer. I wouldn't talk to the teacher at all. AT ALL. He told me he literally had forgotten what my voice sounded like. It was played off as a joke and a lot of the other students went along with it and found it funny. The teacher at some point requested music for us to listen to while we worked, and via my mother, I suggested Trouble by Cage the Elephant. He said he quite liked the song.

But slowly things started to turn. I missed a few days or a week of school because I was ill, meaning I had missed out on an entire lesson. When given the obligatory test, I scored a 30% on it. That's way lower than an F, for reference. The teacher directly approached me and told me that if I'm struggling, I NEED to speak up. I never did, but regardless I passed my class. He even noticed I was talking to other teachers besides him. I feel a bit bad about it in hindsight. His feelings were probably genuinely hurt. I still have no idea what spurred my mutism.

I vowed to myself to talk to him by the end of the year, but I never got the courage. Then it became after I graduated middle school. Then high school. I have no idea where he is now, but I hope to someday say "hi" to him to make up for the... unfair treatment I subjected him to. It's one of my greater regrets in school. Unfortunately a life of being conditioned to shut the hell up and stop talking in school taught me... maybe I just shouldn't talk. No, it wasn't just the first grade teacher who criticized me for speaking out of the classroom, it was the entire staff. The only good thing is the other staff rarely punished me besides a stern talking-to. I consulted a guidance counselor for a short time and got to have lunch with her. I don't entirely remember why I consulted her, but it was probably because of my fifth grade homeroom class.

Besides that, my second class, literature, was a little nicer. Midway through the year, the teacher had to be swapped out with a "permanent" substitute teacher. The substitute teacher seemed to admire my work ethic a bit, and notably praised me for keeping notes in tiny notebooks. In the last week of school, we got to watch few movies in her class before graduation. It was a lot of fun. The only negative experience I remember was the time I loudly farted during a lecture and everyone noticed. Everyone. Even the teacher pointed it out in a joking way. Embarrassing, but somehow not the most embarrassing experience of my life.

Lastly, my third class, math and science, was taught by... my former technology teacher?? The teacher for the technology class swapped out and now the old one was teaching in this class. She was a nice teacher as well, though maybe a bit less light-hearted. I was most confident in her class and often willingly presented information to the class when forced to. So, you know, about as good as I can manage.

We graduated at last, and my goodbye to my Elementary school was very upsetting. If you know the old quote, "don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened," that day was the epitome of that quote. Despite all of the social pressure, despite the bad experiences, and despite everything else, that Elementary school truly felt like home. I grew up there. I learned a lot. Taking that one last look at the school made me cry a lot. I haven't seen it ever since. I hope it's still in business.

Fifth intermission: Field trips and dismissal.
I will keep this brief since, again, it's mostly positive experiences. Field trips were the very rare but very exciting experiences where we got to hop on a bus and drive into the unknown for one entire day.

My fondest memory of a field trip was when we went to a geology location. We got to collect rocks and break open geodes, and of course learn about their properties. We also sifted through sand to try and find gold. My brilliant child self assumed that brown rocks soaked in water were, in fact, gold. It was crushing to discover they were not in fact nuggets of gold. At least I got to keep them.

We also visited a museum or two, and in once instance we got to go to a movie theater. I was going with a friend, and unfortunately we arrived too late. We went to United Skates instead and I had a good time. I bought a glow-in-the-dark pacifier.

Speaking of United Skates, we actually had two field trips there. The first one I did not get to go to because I had gotten sick with pneumonia. I was so sick that I was bedridden and certainly couldn't go around on roller skates. Apparently someone fell and broke their leg on the scene. I felt bad for them, but admittedly I was genuinely upset that I missed out on it.

The second time we went I actually got to come along. I was afraid of roller skating and stuck with four-wheeled skates. Not only that, I also refused to go out onto the skating rink. I stayed on the carpet the whole time. When I DID try going on the rink, I got stuck and needed a teacher to pull me back to the carpet. Never did that again.

We had many field trips, including one where we had to arrive at the school at 5am. It was eerie. I don't remember most of them, sadly.

Besides that, dismissal was a similar enough experience for me to squeeze into this intermission. This is basically where we all lined up in the gym, had a number assigned to us (once per year), and when our number was read out, it meant we could go outside and wait for our cars to pick us up. It was mostly smooth sailing, besides the occasional times I missed my number because our classes kept us late.

I do remember one notable experience I still find very fascinating to this day. There was someone with a nearly identical first and last name to me (pronounced the exact same way as mine) and we both took carpool. I listened out for my number, per usual, but did not hear it. Eventually, out of nowhere, the announcer starts calling out my first and last name. Confused, I stand up and walk to the announcer. She asks my name and when I say it's my name, she tells me to go as quickly as possible. But then I hear something. The announcer calls me back and another girl, the girl with the same name as me, admits it may have been her number. I walk back to my spot, embarrassed as all hell, while she skips along to her car. Yes, because of the irresponsible actions of another, I got punished unfortunately. 

This is tangentially related, but the school offered a small store as we entered. It sold erasers and pencils and notebooks and whatnot for cheap prices. It was quite fun to shop. No denying it began my slow descent into overspending on useless crap like vinyls and CDs in the future... but whatever.

Chapter Four: Middle School

I am going to bunch the entirety of middle school together since, quite frankly, the entire experience blurred together into one mush. I can't differentiate one grade from another. Middle school was one of the worst times in my entire life. Both in and out of school. I've shared a bit about this in other entries, but the stories are relevant to my state of mind at the time.

Starting middle school was rather terrifying. An entirely new school with entirely new people, as my middle school was a bit far from my Elementary school. Some people carried over, such as my best friend at the time. He was really the only thing that kept me afloat throughout my time there.

As we had expected from 5th grade, middle school now used periods for its classes. We were given a schedule and made to walk to our next location every hour or so. It was nice to have the independence, but admittedly I would have preferred more guidance. I am not a very confident person, and if I detect the possibility of doing something wrong, I get afraid of doing it. Not to mention lockers, but I'll get more into that shortly.

A majority of my classes were themed around the four basic subjects: math, science, literature/english, and history/civics. We had two electives, one of which being gym against our will, and recess was no longer around. Around this point is when puberty hit HARD. I began my menstrual cycle, and I was way more moody. So were all of my peers. Cliques were way more common, as oftentimes the girls and the boys would split and within those would be mini-groups. As I was a girl, I had the choice between the popular girl cliques, the casual friend cliques, or the mopey lonesome "clique" (which was more so like a compilation of people who refused to socialize). I started out in a casual friend clique and found a few people to get friendly with. Mostly people from my Elementary school. We would group up for team assignments and hang out at lunch, basically.

Over time my friends would start to drift away from me. Not all of them. Some moved schools, others drifted to other friend groups, and others would join the popular girl cliques. Slowly I lost interest in making friends as I realized it was too much maintenance only to lose them eventually anyway. Not only that, but the "no talking anywhere" rule was implemented here as well. But ten times worse. We were not allowed to speak in the bathroom, the halls, the cafeteria, the gym, the locker rooms, the classrooms (even before class), or any other little crevice in the school. The only exception was outdoors where we could talk while waiting for our cars to pick us up, or the school doors to open. It felt a bit cruel considering we were at the peak of our developmental phase. That is to say, forcing us to stop socializing with our friends while at our most sensitive developmental period is PROBABLY a really bad idea. Indeed, I became very socially stunted because of it.

I was already quite stunted, as previously described. I kind of lost interest in friendship in general and just stuck with who I already had. If I lost them, oh well I guess. I retreated into the mopey lonesome clique and sat at lunch tables all by myself, struggling to find people to work with in groups. And of course, not participating in conversation in the few times it was available to us.

We were assigned lockers, and it was one of the most stressful additions to school. In Elementary school, we had cubbies that we stuck our belongings into. Wide open and sitting in our classroom. Lockers, however, required a lock to close. The lock contained a completely randomized password that we had to memorize within the FIRST DAY or else we would be locked out of our belongings. Needless to say, with my memory issues as previously mentioned in passing, I really struggled to remember my password. We got a new lock each year and I struggled each time to remember. Not only that, but in gym, we were required to use lockers if we brought belongings (which we had to do to bring a change of clothes). We had to buy our own locks for that, they weren't provided to us. Two passwords to remember per year. Well... sometimes. I'll get into the NIGHTMARE of gym class later.

While I struggled socially and had the mounting stress of a drastically new schedule and trying desperately to remember my locker combination (which I wrote down and lost over and over), I also experienced the stress of my... time of the month. The initial reveal was a bit scary, but over time I got used to it, as thankfully my mother had warned me about it. Periods cause heavy mood swings and, of course, involuntary blood expulsion from the nether regions. Having to manage my periods while already being seconds away from having an outburst was unpleasant. Everything in my life was pissing me off.

Speaking of, my home life was not much better. I don't want to get too personal, but basically I was in a bit of a broken home. One of my parents struggled to keep a living space. The apartment we lived in up until we got evicted was INFESTED with cockroaches. We kept getting them sneaking into our second-story building every month or so. They were massive. And they could fly. I developed an intense phobia of them and nowadays if I see one I go into a full blown panic attack. Also, quite simply, the living space was nasty. My bathroom closet smelled like dead bodies, at at one point our water heater flooded the apartment. Of which, mind you, didn't even work, forcing us to shower in freezing cold water. The fact that we managed to live there for 3-4 years amazes me.

But the school had no way of knowing how my home life was. Nonetheless, it took a physical and mental toll on me. When I got periods in class I would sometimes be so physically ill that I would need to go to the nurse's office. Twice I vomited on school grounds because of it (though I had vomited one time in my Elementary school for unrelated reasons, it wasn't nearly as vivid in my mind). One time was in the classroom, and it caused the next period to be backed up and I had to walk out of the classroom with a peer, holding a trashcan under my head with vomit surrounding my mouth. They all just watched me. Were they concerned? I don't know, I wasn't paying attention. The second time, thankfully, was as my mother picked me up. When we got outside I sat on a bench and vomited on the ground. I just... left it there. The janitor probably had a fun time with that surprise. I didn't see it the next day. I'm not sure if this is a false memory or not, but I think there was a stain on the ground for a few days afterwards.

But surely all of that isn't bad enough, right? Well, I didn't call it the worst portion of my life for nothing. Around 7th grade is when I started developing intense social anxiety and, to a degree, germaphobia (fear of germs). This was just before COVID hit, but nonetheless I became afraid of touching surfaces that were touched by other students. I got a very strong repulsion to touching food crumbs or stains, an issue I still have. I didn't touch stair rails despite my worries of falling down the stairs, simply because I didn't want to get my hands dirty. This is the same person who happily licked their germ-ridden hands in 2nd grade, unaware that that "nice taste" was the culmination of an entire day's worth of germs. Fun! No wonder I got sick so often.

Regarding my social anxiety, it got to the point where I actively stayed away from other people. If anyone tried sitting near me, I would avert my gaze. If anyone tried talking to me, I would be very brief and curt with my responses. I just didn't want to talk to people anymore, unless they were my friends or unless it would get my grade lowered (such as group assignments). But I had a very unpleasant time with group assignments. Often people would neglect their work and socialize with their friends, while I had to do all the work. But quite honestly, I didn't mind that at all. Yes it irritated me that these people were getting away with doing none of the work, but at least I was doing the work all by myself. I much preferred it that way. Though, if anyone offered to present it in front of the class, I happily allowed them.

Extracurricular activities became somewhat of a requirement in middle school. We would have a tacked on period where we went to a specialized class similar to an elective, but with the vibe and title of a club. These clubs were up to us to choose. I usually picked whatever my BFF picked, though that didn't always work out. The oldest one I remember was a reading club. We were assigned one of four books to read (whichever we wanted) and then answer a set list of questions after reading a certain number of chapters. It was surprisingly unpleasant. We were often assigned to read 5 chapters in a week. I do enjoy reading, but not if a book bores me. The only book that managed to keep me entertained was Refugee by Alan Gratz (one of my favorite books to this day). The others I tried reading were just not doing it for me, and I could not keep up with assignments. At one point I was talking with my BFF in this class and the teacher yelled at us to stop talking. The subject of conversation, surprise surprise, was about the classwork. Thanks teach! Our reputations were permanently soured in the eyes of that teacher.

At that point my BFF found his own friend group and started becoming friends with them, branching away from me a bit. I got jealous because at the time he was pretty much my only friend. And I simply could not find the energy or time to try and fit in. They had a style of humor that did not line up with mine too. They created a Discord chat, and the story of my first suicidal ideations began there. I don't remember if I told this story before, but if I haven't, I'll save it for another entry. Long story short, they ignored me, criticized and mocked me for engaging in my (at the time) Five Nights At Freddy's hyperfixation, and eventually just kicked me out of the group without warning me beforehand. I was so lonely and self-destructive that I was inches away from killing myself. I didn't, ultimately because the idea of dying terrifies me too much. Had it not been for that, I would probably be dead. I've had several other suicidal ideations since, but have yet to act on them. That experience in 7th grade was my first. It has stuck with me ever since. My BFF committed himself to sticking with me and that eventually pulled me out of my rut coming into 8th grade.

Another extracurricular class I joined was a drawing one. Not painting or collages or anything, just doodling on paper. That was it! It was a BLAST! Every moment of my slow laborious days led up to that class where I could just have an hour to doodle nonsense. We barely had assigned work in that class. I loved it. I got the opportunity to work on my major project at the time, a remake of one of my old stories named Skyland. I never got the chance to finish it, but I did get over halfway through it. Mind you, "over halfway" means like 600 pages. I rebooted it again years later and... have yet to do anything with it. Maybe someday. Speaking of, one of my homeroom teachers really liked Skyland. She saw me drawing it a few times at lunch and inquired on it. I let her read it and she said she really liked it! That was a massive ego boost. Thank you, homeroom teacher. You may have partially saved my life.

Another rather funny "friendship" I had with one of my teachers was when I had some kind of technology-related elective. Similarly to the one from Elementary school, we had to go into a computer lab and do stuff on the computer. Oftentimes we made things in Canva and, if we had free time, got to play random flash games on the web. It was a really awesome class. The teacher noticed me and my BFF were talking a lot and, instead of being a pain in the neck, actually engaged in our conversations a bit. He even watched me as I played flash games and celebrated my victories. He even nominated me as one of his favorite students! I later re-met the teacher when I needed to take one of my high school exams and he recognized me. This is in a previous entry, read about that if you're curious. Anyway, these few-and-far-between friendly teachers kept my spirits up despite everything around me. It shows that not all teachers hate their jobs. Thank goodness for that.

I guess with all of that nice fuzzy stuff out of the way... I need to talk about... the DREADED GYM CLASS. Jesus. I have had some stiff competition with classes, but gym was easily one of the worst. For some context, our gym class was split into three sections that would change between weeks: health, PE, and fitness. Health involved sitting in a boring classroom learning about... anatomy. Wahoo. PE involved doing sports like soccer, badminton, jump rope, and... *shudder*... softball. Fitness involved running. That's about it.

I'll start with the worst and gradually get to the less worse stuff, as I would really like to get this off my chest. PE and fitness were neck-and-neck for being the worst section, and SOMEHOW I would always look forward to health merely because of how insufferable the other two were. PE was slightly worse than fitness for one reason: softball.

PE was usually somewhat simple. We would do a random sport each day. We might even have a free time every now and then where we were allowed to play any sport we wanted. I often chose jump rope, table tennis, and badminton simply because I find those the most fun. Soccer, basketball, and volleyball were bordering on my least favorite, as often it required a lot of focus regardless of your position. Being not much of a sports fanatic (or even sports enjoyer), I did not understand how these sports work. Did they explain them? NO! Of course not. You were just expected to know! Volleyball wasn't horrible, as often the server would be in the bottom corner and we would slowly rotate positions to get there. Sometimes if I stayed in the opposite corner I would avoid serving for the whole game and it was delightful. When I DID serve, I managed to embarrass myself each time with all 30 eyes watching me fail to hit the ball over the net. Yay, what fun. Basketball and soccer was mainly me staying out of the way when I could. I would stay in the corner and watch other people play, but giving "appearances" as if I was playing.

We had a competition or two with soccer. It was kinda fun. The field was massive and we played one-on-one with a competitor from an opposite team, rather than two huge groups. I don't remember how well I did. We also played frisbee, cornhole, and some random other crap. You know, anything a school can afford.

But softball... softball was my ultimate nemesis. Anytime we lined up preparing for today's exciting sport, I would think in the back of my head "PLEASE don't be softball, ANYTHING but softball." To my misfortune, lining up to go outside AND stay indoors could mean we were indeed playing softball. In our school, softball worked by having us all line up, and the first person in line would run up to the ball and kick it. Similar to baseball, the kicker would then run around the court until they reached home base. They did not explain a single thing to me. I had no idea how to play softball. What bases do you go to? NO IDEA! How far do you kick the ball? NO IDEA! Who do you avoid? NO IDEA! Good luck figuring it out! Mind you at this point my social anxiety was so intense I found it very hard to initiate conversations with teachers. So I never asked for help. Every single day I hid at the back of the line, letting people go in front of me, just praying I would never have to kick that ball. Unfortunately... I did have to kick the ball once or twice. Completely unaware of the rules, I would run to bases I didn't belong, people would jeer me for not moving to bases I could've reached, and of course, I got tagged by  the competing team. And I was thankful for that anytime it happened. My kicks had the power equivalent to a rubber mallet on an anvil. My kicks would be lucky to surpass a few feet in front of me. I am not a sports body, and it's a little startling that we had to compete directly with men. Biologically far superior at physical activities such as sports! I have most softball memories purged from my brain thankfully, so I'll leave it here.

Fitness was pretty bad for, once again, a pretty simple reason. At the time I was discovering I had asthma, meaning it was hard for me to walk or run long distances without struggling to breathe. I had to report my inhaler to the front desk but their instructions were very vague, so when I tried leaving it on the desk the lady in the office yelled at me. Lots of people loved yelling at me. Either way, for some reason this meant that I had to keep one inhaler at the office and bring another with me. I don't know why. They probably just stole my inhaler now that I think about it. Regardless, I was able to stop and use my inhaler every now and then, particularly in the locker room. If you're familiar with inhalers, they are essentially steroids, meaning you can't exceed more than two puffs in a set time span. So if I was out of breath even after using my inhaler... I was screwed.

Enter: the mile run. The mile run was an activity in Elementary school, however the track was a lot smaller (we had to do 8 laps) and the pressure was less intense. Middle school, however, had a larger track (4 laps) and the pressure mounted a lot more. Everyone. EVERYONE. Finished before me. With the exception of maybe one kid who also had asthma, or some other health condition, I just always came in last. It was humiliating. I ran as much as I could muster before my lungs and throat were burning. I would come out of it so exhausted, sweaty, and physically annihilated that I would find it near impossible to walk back to the school. I breathed like air was a rarity... and in a way it was. I nearly passed out on SEVERAL occasions, and none of the teachers seemed to notice my plight. They merely lowered my grade for a poor time.

We also did the iconic Fitness Gram Pacer Test. You know, the thing that became a meme for some reason? Yeah, well, that was also a pain in the ass. Within a set time limit of usually several seconds, we had to lap from one end of the gym to the other. The time would get increasingly faster over time, and if you missed one lap, you were out. I often got out super quickly just because I was so out of breath I couldn't do more than a light jog. Again, rather humiliating. But at least a lot of others also got out pretty quickly. I just... tended to be one of the first.

I have nothing much to say about health class. It was boring. We learned about penises and vaginas, childbirth, CPR (vaguely), safe sex, yada yada. I barely retained any information from that class.

I guess instead I should detail the plight of my lost backpack. This is a story that resulted from a number of problems, notably my anxiety around teachers. For one reason or another, we started bringing our backpacks to gym. Maybe whenever gym was our final period, I guess. My backpack would not fit in my locker, so I had to leave it out in the open. I trusted the girl's locker room would present no problems. Indeed, I was kind of right, but when I returned one day I noticed my backpack had vanished. I started freaking out and having a panic attack, sitting with tears welling in my eyes at the carpool afraid of what I would have to tell my mother. When I got in the car I, in effect, said "oh by the way.. my backpack was stolen."

Immediately she parked in the parking lot and rushed into the school to seek help. I led her to the gym and we found a couple of the teachers. My mother spoke on my behalf and told them the situation. Instantaneously the teachers blamed me for not speaking up, criticizing me quite heavily for not saying anything when I first found out. More tears welled up in my eyes. Not only was I "in trouble", but now all of my belongings, INCLUDING MY PHONE, were stolen. The search was long and arduous as the teachers searched every corner of the woman's locker room. They got me to search my locker to no avail. Finally, one of the teachers thought to check the boy's locker room. And there it was. My backpack. Unharmed, but mysteriously tossed into the opposite locker room. I have NO clue who did it or why they did it, and the mysterious student went unpunished for it (as far as I know). I left with my backpack and ensured I would hide it better from then on.

I have two more major topics to go over regarding middle school. The first one is in regards to the middle school slowly turning into a prison.

As I mentioned earlier, the middle school felt a bit strict, as we often couldn't talk to our peers at all unless instructed otherwise. Typically during group projects. But often we wanted to talk about other things besides education, given we had no other opportunity to talk. This often meant that classrooms and hallways would become intruded by "misbehaving" students trying to talk to their peers before classes started, or even during classes. Now, this seems like a reasonable problem, right? How do we get the students to stop talking during class? Do we: A) Give them more opportunities to talk freely with their peers, B) Stop punishing them for talking in the halls and before class, or C) Double down and tighten the school with an iron grip forbidding all conversations with peers under strict punishment. What do you think my school chose?

Previously, we had been allowed to walk to our classes freely. But in 7th grade, the school angrily criticized us ALL for a select few students not reaching their classes in time. We had to line up in the gym between classes, electives, and lunch and follow different lines that led to different classes. Lines. Just like in Elementary school, TEENAGERS were forced to walk in lines with teachers leading the way. It was beyond humiliating. I felt so condescended, and I'm sure lots of other students did. All of us hated the decision and actively berated the staff for forcing us to do this. But our outcries only proved them more correct, and they didn't let up. Up until the school closed down for COVID, we were forced to be treated like toddlers.

Classes, hallways, bathrooms, and the cafeteria were guarded more carefully. You had to take a bathroom pass when using the bathroom, and if you didn't return in a select amount of time, you'd get in a lot of trouble. Hallways and classes had staff monitoring the behavior of the students and forcing them to be quiet. If you spoke in the school or stepped one foot out of line, you would get in trouble. The cafeterias originally allowed us to sit anywhere we wanted. Now? We had select seating just like classrooms. We were forced to sit at select tables at specific seats, forcing me to sit next to my peers who I desperately wanted to stay away from. And of course, in classrooms, desks were separated from clumps into individual desks, keeping us as far away from our peers as possible so we could not talk to them. Ironic that they chose to clump us up in the cafeteria but not classrooms. Maybe to keep a closer eye on us.

It felt like a prison. I loathed going to school. Waking up at 7am, going through classes I hated with teachers who (with some exceptions) hated me. Teachers would single me out for talking to my friends, while others got away with it. One instance involved us doing a fun activity in a classroom with a teacher I thought was very chill. We had to write something on a piece of paper and pass it to the teacher. I don't remember exactly what it was, but it involved the entire class. We kept chattering away at eachother all in an easygoing fun mood... but the teacher apparently wasn't fond of that at all. When we refused to stop talking to eachother, the teacher yelled at us quite harshly, ripped every single piece of paper right in front of our eyes, and threw them into the trash can. We sat in a tense silence for the rest of that period. Just like he wanted... right?

The fact that I survived middle school was, quite simply, a miracle.

Finally, 2020 came around. I was in 8th grade, and the threat of COVID hung over our heads. I remember directly communicating with my BFF (with written notes) that COVID would not be a big deal. We would come out of it fine...

Then the school closed for two weeks...

Then it closed again indefinitely.

All work moved to online, and now we had to use the dreaded Google Classroom. Work was very disorganized and we barely got an explanation as to how online schooling would work. We were expected to succeed with very little guidance. I get it, it was rushed. But surely we could have been a little more lax on the students? Because yes, of course the classwork and homework was equally as strict as in-person school. Same with the teachers.

During one of my online sessions where (because of my misophonia) I was having a borderline panic attack due to a teacher's lip smacking and my mother was out at the store, I heard a heavy knock at the apartment door. I set my work aside and walked tentatively to the door, where I heard a man announce "it's eviction day" from the other side. Oh, sorry, I spoiled this already, didn't I? Yup! Without warning, and without my mother being home (but my dog, Therri, being in the house) I was being forcibly removed from my home. I was in a bit of shock, so I nonchalantly said, "but I'm doing schoolwork." The man basically said "it doesn't matter, you need to leave." I shut down my computer, grabbed my phone, leashed Therri, and left my apartment with a scary-looking man and, presumably, the landlord.

That was one of the lowest moments of my entire life.

I sat in the main office with some, albeit friendly, staff who accompanied me and Therri quite well. Therri, clueless, would run around sniffing everything and being a nuisance, but thankfully the staff had good humor about it. They calmed me down as I continually burst into tears for long, long minutes, just waiting for something to happen. My mother did not have phone service, so I could not call or text her. My dad was at work, many miles away. I didn't have wifi access regardless. An hour or two later, the staff finally let me use their phone to call my dad. Equally as shocked as me, he dropped work and immediately drove to pick me up. Coincidentally, my mother appeared in a full-blown panic, worrying where I was and yelling at the office staff. She found me and, right as my dad arrived, drove out of there. My home life, needless to say, was almost completely destroyed. Right. In the heat. Of COVID.

But still, my personal life did not make school any easier. When I finally could get access on my computer again, I struggled a lot. But somehow. Against all odds. I graduated middle school. And I couldn't have been happier.

Chapter Five: High School

COVID was still ongoing as I started high school, so unfortunately I had to continue online schooling. I say unfortunately only because at the time I was not enthusiastic about the idea of that. The timeline of this is rather fuzzy in my brain, and I can't remember exactly where I was and when, but I'll try to recount it as best I can.

I started in the high school that carried over from my middle school, however the school intended on switching back to in-person next year, meaning I would have to find another online school if I wanted to continue. I did ultimately decide to continue doing online school just because I was afraid of going in person and having to socialize. Also I really enjoyed working in the comfort of my own home by MOSTLY my own schedule. The first year was a bit rough as the school struggled to adjust, but it worked out okay.

I did have to take an exam within the school building, and I described that story in a previous entry. Long story short, I got lost and very nearly missed one of my exams. But I managed to complete it!

My sophomore year was a bit more interesting. As we were on the search for a new online school, we found a private school that was totally online. It also had no schedule and we could do assignments at whatever pace we wanted. It was delightful. Only every now and then would we get emails from teachers giving us assignment feedback. That made me rather anxious as I was used to teachers having... rather harsh feedback when you do poorly. Not to say I had low confidence in myself necessarily, I was just prepared for the worst every time. Again, I did decently well.

But I had to take the dreaded SAT. It's a required test for people in high school. But since my online school did not have a physical location, I had to go to a testing location. The testing location was strange, though. It was some kind of catholic school with separate buildings as though it were a college campus. I was very nervous about navigation, and since the entire day would be spent on exams, we had to bring lunch. So, my dad took me there and I counted on him helping me with navigation to at least clear the first hurdle. But... no. Parents weren't allowed to leave their cars. I had to go on my own.

I walked up to the main desk area and they assigned me a building to go to. I went looking for it but couldn't find a building number. I went back and asked where it was. They pointed to it, and so I headed in that direction. But oddly the building was empty. No teachers, no other students. I kept thinking I was in the wrong place... but I guess I was just super early. I went into the only classroom with an open door and sat in one of the seats. Slowly but surely students trickled in, and I grew ever more confident I was in the right place. After a long, long while, the teacher finally came in, told us to put our phones on the front desk, and handed out exam booklets. The whole time I nervously thought that someone would take my phone by accident, as at the time, I had no stickers on my phone case. It looked like any generic black case for a Google Pixel phone. And I saw a handful of others in the box. Despite my worries, I passed the exams.

We stopped here and there for breaks, as well as a lunch break where we could roam the area freely. I didn't go far, I just hung around outside eating a breakfast bar. My stomach felt weird, my eyes stung, and my throat was dry. I was certainly not in the mood to continue testing, but I had to. My life depended on it.

Most of the other students left after the required exams were done, but some of us, including me, had to take an extra exam. The exam required us writing an essay about a prompt. I really enjoy writing! Maybe you can tell!! I passed that exam with flying colors.

Needless to say, although it was stressful particularly for the required testing, I most enjoyed doing the private school. Having no schedule and being able to do it all in the comfort of my own home was really nice. Unfortunately it wasn't in the budget for another school year, so I had to find yet ANOTHER school to go to next year.

Thankfully, we managed to apply for one right before applications were full. I got into an online school sponsored by my state, so it was back to public schooling. I don't remember much about my final two years. I believe it was self-paced, but for some reason I have memories of it having live instruction as well. I dunno. Maybe it was a mix of both.

Apparently I was so ahead in my studies that I could graduate one semester early in my senior grade. It felt great! I felt like things were picking up in my life.

But my home life didn't let me feel that pride for long. Yada yada, things happened. By the time I got my diploma I was so depressed I hardly felt any excitement. I regret being so underwhelmed, especially in front of my parents, but it's not like it was my fault that I was so depressed. It was no one's fault. My high school diploma is one of the more valuable items in my collection.

Immediately afterwards we had to think about getting me into college. I applied and got accepted to a community college, where I still am now. I admit I'm very much done with public schooling at this point, but college has been a Godsend compared to primary school. Everything is once again self-paced. The only downside is that I can't finish work whenever I want, all due dates are per week. Either way, I'd take it WAY before live instruction. Not only did live instruction beget homework, but it felt like a massive waste of time.

Chapter Six: Reflection

My overall critique of the public schooling system consists of a few things:

1. I think that soft skills were not encouraged enough. We were very often discouraged from being social. We were barely taught valuable life skills such as how to pay for taxes, how to be financially responsible, how to find a job, etc. All of that was up to us to either learn via electives, or figure out from our parents. It should be required. And quite frankly, we need opportunities to talk with our peers! When our brains are still developing, it's extremely important that we grow, not that we get stunted. Nowadays I'm too afraid to do much of anything with other people. I'm afraid of criticism. A lot of my peers, including me, struggle on how to understand adulthood. We were not taught valuable skills. We were taught how trigonometry and how Ancient China functioned. Who. Cares. I'm a graphic designer. I don't need to know any of that BS. Make THAT optional if anything.

2. I believe that the structure is very flawed. I think splitting curriculums into different grades is fine, but forcing students to partake in classes they don't want and to a very tight schedule is not a good idea. Yes, I understand that, when these people eventually have jobs, they will work under tight schedules. But that is not something we need to instill in Elementary school kids. Self-paced work should be encouraged (accompanied by a deadline similar to my college's). And if students struggle, I think they need to be guided more than criticized. If students are having learning difficulties or behavioral difficulties or whatever else, they should not be punished. That is authoritarian. We don't know any better, and if you tell us to "stop" and we do not know why, we're going to keep it up. If you punish us by instilling restrictions on us, we're just going to find loopholes. Encourage us to behave well with rewards, don't punish us if we misbehave. And for the love of God. TELL US WHY. What is wrong with talking in the bathroom, or in the halls between classes? I don't know! We were never TOLD!

3. We need to abolish homework. I get it. Kids say this all the time. They don't want homework because it's education at home. But you know what? If EVERY single child is complaining about homework, maybe there's a flaw to do with the system, not the students. Homework is just an excuse to sap away a child's free time for the same basic, useless purposes brought up in my first point. We sit through a long hour of lecture about how the quadratic formula works, we do that in practice with classwork, and... that should be good enough, right? Why do we need homework? It quite literally exists as filler to occupy a child's time and prevent them from having fun. No wonder kids never did homework. I would sometimes find excuses to avoid it simply because... I didn't want to do it. I just wanted to have free time. I get home after a 7 hour day of school... only to have to do THREE MORE HOURS of work. Are you kidding me?!

4. We need to make learning fun. This is more of a subjective point. The way in which we learn is very unengaging. This even applies to my college. For in-person schooling, it's listening to a teacher drone on about jargon. For online schooling, it's watching a long series of videos of a person droning on about jargon. You know what's more engaging? Actively quizzing your students as they learn, or requiring some level of engagement during the lessons. I don't just mean asking students to raise their hands, because people like me actively avoid that so we don't risk embarrassing ourselves in front of other students. No. I mean handouts where we have to apply our knowledge, or follow instructions. Or even hands-on activities. Remember playing with colorful blocks as a child? Who said we need to stop using those in middle school, huh? Or in high school? If we're forced to just sit there, doing absolutely nothing, and absorbing information in the most unengaging way possible, we are not going to retain information. And we are going to fail.

5. I hate gym class. This is also subjective. Please make gym class optional. Physically disabled kids, kids with asthma, or just kids who do not care about sports should not be forced to go there. If you want to keep us physically fit, just make us do stretches at the beginning of every class. I dunno! We already walk everywhere to get to classes, it's not like we're vegetables all day. Though I wouldn't mind not being forced to sit for 7 hours a day in cheap, hard chairs meant for people with pristine postures.

What's the solution to any of this? Well, funding the public school system for one, but lord knows that isn't happening. Two, COMPLAIN! If you're a parent of a child going to a school or a staff member working at a school, make it clear how unpleasant the system is. Maybe, just maybe, things can change. And if you can afford it, just go to a private school. I did only have one year at an online private school, but it was better. The teachers cared. The learning was engaging. It's just better. Give it a go.

If you read through this entire essay, then good job. You win a million dollars. Not really, but I do appreciate you taking the time of day to sit through my nonsense. My time in school sucked. But there were some good experiences. But mostly bad ones. If you're over the hurdle, then I'm sure you don't miss it. Who knows when I'll write on this blog next...

Until next.