The System

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
this is a first draft for my english class, about the journey through the education system.

Submitted: October 08, 2011

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Submitted: October 08, 2011

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The System

They tore us from our mother’s bosom, kicking and screaming, we wanted to stay with our family. We were forced into the group, where the only difference between us was our age. Some will say with pride that they chose to come here they are lying. No one chooses to come here. This was a place of oppression and dictation that opposes the natural way of raising us and turns us into what we are today.

The first few weeks I am timid and afraid, there are temper tantrums and children crying each and every day, while some lady ran around and couched us on how we should act for the next 13 years of our lives, and presumably then on into the adult world. We formed groups according to our age and gender; I was with the guy group. It was natural that we joined together as we have the most in common.

Later on it changed though, the groups began to comingle, those who weren’t ready for it where excluded and left to fight for themselves, they became what we commonly refer to the loners, those who weren’t ready to conform to this new idea and where thus left to fend for themselves. I once thought we where mean for doing such a cruel act, later I found that it happens in common society, this appalled me even more, to know that what we do as children is echoed in our adult lives.

Then we became relaxed, once the groups where formed it was hard to change, it was a precursor for how we are to go in our adult schooling days, I must therefore say that I am an oddity as originally in my younger days, I constantly cried wolf, just to escape what I saw then as a prison which crammed unneeded knowledge down my throat, just to see how much of it I could retain. I refused the system I became a non-conformist, hating the system as I was with a group who began to rebel against it. But we all got used to it, those who rebelled and those who excelled our places where engraved in stone around the prison. Then everything changed.

We had the floor beneath our feet crackle and decay, we where thrown into a new prison where as usual they promised the world if only you could regurgitate the information crammed down your throat. But I wouldn’t rebel this time, as my parents had caught wind of me, and my child-like instinct to please them made me change. I forgo my friends, changed my ways, I became the prodigal son of this new prison; it was as if a new door opened.

I met girls and made new connections, but I still didn’t like this prison and took every chance I could to escape it. Yet something kept drawing me back, I know now what it was. Stability. The 9-3 classes, set lunch breaks and the friends who I knew where waiting for me there. Although there were fights, and there where unpleasant days, those now that I look back on it where care free and some of the happiest of my life.

But then again the system changed, we suffered increasing pressure to regurgitate even more information in finite detail, and even create, a skill that I hadn’t used since the early days of this prison. Yet this place had become a second home to me, through all the time I spent here. There were still those who despised this place and where begging to have completed it, but for the first time I actually knew I would miss it.

Then the final test came and went. Now I sit at here anxious waiting for my results, looking at all the photos, the memories that have come and gone, missing the school where I spent the majority of my life with. We had a mutual relationship, yet it doesn’t need me anymore, a new child had taken my place, and I am not accepted in that institute due to my age that is the base the grouping system on. For all my hatred and unforgiving actions that place provided what I needed, stability and support, before casting me away, and leaving me to fend for myself. We always knew life outside of school would be different. I just didn’t know how different.


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