I’m a grade ten student. At 16 years old, I guess you could say I’m a fairly intuitive, and successful individual. I’ve gotten good grades, kept up my average, and been an overall good student. I try my best not to talk back, or state my opinion, as that is not what is asked of us. We, as young adults, are asked to sit down, and listen. We are not asked to interact, to actually engage in conversation–no–for that is rude and disrespectful. We are not asked for our opinions, so we are evidently reluctant to speak them. We are not asked to help one another, so we remain selfish, and arrogant. Then, we are looked at by society, and are thought of as reckless, self-absorbed, sinners who are beyond disrespectful. But we’re not. We’re ambitious, creative, smart. But none of those things matter, if your grade isn’t above average. Our initiative is entirely bent on attaining A’s and B’s. High 90’s and 100’s. I can’t think of one student who ever thinks that what they’ve done it truly good enough, because it never is. There was a girl in my math class. She get’s all high nineties, and it was still not good enough. One time, she received a 97 on a test I received 100 on. I was happy, very happy, as math is not my strong subject. I saw her, and she was almost in tears. Beating herself up over a small mistake that costed her her perfect grade. I didn’t know why she was crying. I didn’t know why she was upset. And most people looked at her with disgust that day, and I’ll be honest, I found myself doing the same. Because even though we see that mark as an incredible one, she doesn’t. And neither did our teacher, and that was all that mattered to her.
So yes. I’m a successful student. I get high nineties and eighties, and I try my best to listen, and only to listen. I do what is expected, and keep my mouth shut. But I’m done. I’m done silently stressing over a subject in science or math that I don’t understand. I’m done listening to my teachers–and principals–belittle my fellow classmates. I’m done being asked to be myself, when I know that if I am, I will be judged for it, and told to change. I’m done wishing my teachers would notice our silent screams. I’m done dealing with the anxiety. I’m done talking my friends out of suicide because of stress and depression. I’m done suppressing how I feel.
I know how to distinguish the difference between an acid or a base. I could probably recite the first 24 elements on the periodic table in my sleep. I could tell you that, in the end of Julius Caesar, Brutus and his friends commit suicide out of loyalty–because THATS loyalty. But you know what I could also tell you? I could tell you how I’m able to distinguish the difference between a genuine smile, and a smile to fight back the tears. I could tell you about how every day, the guidance counsellor is always busy. I could tell you how 3 of my friends wanted to die by taking their own life during exam time. I could tell you how depression can kill, and stress is a trigger. I could tell you the way my best friend cries to me when she doesn’t do something right. I could tell you how we’re almost all robots, whom you’ve shaped. And I could tell you that one of these days, I will lose myself, and become, too, just another robot.
You scold those who do poorly in school, but thats just because they chose living, over just a life.