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Friday, July 07, 2006
I have come to the conclusion that the school is a dictatorship.
Minus the fact, of course, that we do not worship the principal (though she is undoubtedly really nice), and we definetly do not worship certain *ahem* others.
There is no running away. No matter where we go, no matter what we do, it haunts us with every fibre of its being. You can no more escape from the shadowed vision of it than you can escape a tracker that is flowing through your blood. With every movement it mocks us, jeers us. With every thought it tugs on the back of that thought and huddles along, grinning at you menacingly with its ugly and vile teeth.
Even when you're supposed to be having fun, and you shouldn't be affected by the workload that if piled up will reach no less than the height of Mt Olympus. Take the holidays for example. It's supposed to be a great time -- a relaxing time when you dump your homework on the ground, jump on it and yell 'See you in a month!'
But no. Not here.
Here the holidays come, and we eagerly rush home to lounge and do whatever we please --instead we find a pile of homework waiting impatiently for us on the table. Even if we leave it alone and deign to touch it, everytime you turn on the Tele or open up a novel, it jumps at you in the face, haunting you with every step.
And that's just the holidays.
Why is the school term so crammed with homework? Say we take a board, and we paste big sheets of paper onto it, so that the entire face of the board, save the small tiny areas where the papers cannot reach, is covered. That would be enough, no?
NO. The teachers just cram more in, right into the tiny little spaces that could hardly be called a space, more like a dot. Many pieces of paper overlap, but they don't care. Better to be safe than sorry, they say.
Even now, as I'm typing this, I'm worrying about the math practices that I should be doing right now, but I can't find because my entire desk is strewn with files and papers and my drawer is spilling books.
And the thing that really gets me everytime, is the fact that the school is stealing out childhood. Every happy memory that we're supposed to have right now -- we don't even have time for that. We go to school and somehow get to recess. Then to lunch. Then, if we're lucky and don't have CCA, we go home to do homework. Eat some dinner, cram some more. Then we go to bed.
I'm so sick of this. I'm sure everyone is sick of this.
Isn't this supposed to be the time where we rest and relax, before the 'real world' hits us like an out of control lorry? Isn't this supposed to be the time when we go to school and our biggest worries are 'Am I having a bad hair day?'
What bullshit.
They say that they're preparing us for the real world, and yeah, I can understand that. But hey, ever heard of something called 'going mad before you reach 15 because some people decide that they want to run your life for you and give you so much work and stress so that you can't get through one hour a day without stressing?'
I'm so tired. And I'm sure everyone is tired too.
We memorise the test timetable like a handyman memorising his tools. We can't do anything about it, because at the end of the day, the teachers and principal and the school and the education board decide everything.
We cannot even find one day free in a school term, when we can relax and the worry of homework is not itching at you.
What happened to our childhood?
Time is precious to us because we're worried that we don't have anymore time to finish mugging, not because we're afraid that each minute is a mintue closer to our death.
Well, do your work and listen to the teachers and the adults (because they're always right), try to get the best marks because the teachers and adults tell you to (and they're always right), count the hours on your fingers and keep struggling through the marsh of work and stress because the teachers and adults tell you too (and they're always right), but now I have something to ask the teachers, and the adults, and the principals, and the school board.
Do you think that every single one of us here will be able to push upcurrent against the stress tide, and even make it to the age of, say, nineteen?
[ T-ray* ] blogged @ 3:03 AM
