I realize now I used the term “teacher” a couple times in the previous entry. You may be confused on who I was referring to so allow me an entry to explain an important aspect of our lives. Around the age of puberty, every single human goes completely insane. For four to six years these crazies are locked up in a containment facility for a third of the day. The idea is to nourish these mental cases into productive citizens. Teachers have been tasked with such a job. Yet the reality of things is that within the gates of every high school is a majority population of hormonal cannibals and a minority few who are called upon to guide them. In high school, through the painful metamorphosis into adulthood, each teen loses innocence as they exposed to the harsh truths of the world. Drugs, alcohol, hunger, peer pressure, hate, abandonment, and exile are all felt by the average teen. The fire spreads quickly and spares no one. The true importance of the teacher I believe are the ones willing to step out and help protect from the blaze.
Think about what I explained earlier to you. My generation of teens is a product of a generation that has had its own struggles making it into adulthood. Those having trouble at home will certainly be competing for the resources of friends at school. From there out it’s survival of the fittest. Yet we are not alone. I’ve witnessed my fair share of teachers that were willing to step up and speak out and be the heroes for our generation. Where some parents fail, a teacher can perform their duties ten times over. This fact has always left me in awe of how much teachers shape my future.
Schools before my generation had uniforms that were assigned to be worn during school hours. Someone said that wasn’t right, and that that rule limits our freedom of expression. How true is that? However, as teens we have ruined that for ourselves. We are a slave to another dress code now; one written not by school administrators, but by salesmen and women. Sure they may dress themselves up with fancy names like fashionistas and designers, but look through the sugary names and see the truth. They dictate what teens should feel good about wearing and bad about wearing for the sake of money. We are dumb enough to fall for it as well. Teenagers expressed their newfound freedom by dressing nearly identical because a faceless clothing tyrant said so. The problem is not that we do not act different from each other but rather that we don’t think for ourselves. Original thought is the entire point of freedom.
This is yet another impossible role of the teacher. Not only must he or she contain the beast that is the high school student body, but they must teach it to mature and think for itself and optionally even protect. This is why, as crazy as it would sound to my cannibal peers, I am thankful for teachers.
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