Now For Some Schools (Essay: School)

If you've ever been disturbed to hear someone say 'schooldays are the best days of your life', you can feel comfortable in the knowledge that your particular schooldays are - in fact - not the best days of your life.

But it's a tricky subject, so I'm not leaving it there - why do some people consider schooldays to be the best days of their lives? I think we would all do well to contemplate this matter, as we might well all become more enlightened from it.

However horrible you may (or, indeed, may not) find school, I think it best to remember it's only your personal experience of school that you can vouch for. Some of us are bullies, some of us are victims; some of us as teachers'-pets, some of us are just sort of ignored; some of us are popular in our year, some of us would be sooner forgotten about. Now, those among us who are teachers' pets, are popular, or are bullies, might well shudder at the thought of being their ubiquitous counterpart. Some may well wish they actually were their counterpart. I appreciate that these are empty words to those affected right now, but whether you're a victim or unpopular, the bully and the popular have their own crosses to bear. We should never loath those which we are not; if we weren't what we are, they wouldn't be able to be what they are. The grass is always greener on the other side, and I want to convey to all school-pupils that no truer phrase was spoken regarding school. No, really, it's you as well.

School is a strange world, and I think adults characterise it the wrong way. There is no fundamental school way of life, as every single person has a completely different take on everything that's happened in their time being there. Someone can go straight through Primary in a certain way, then view and be viewed quite differently for Secondary. What I mean is that our opinions of school are made by the things we remember most prominently: those wisened scholars who hearken to achievements and academic merit may have drawn themselves from the occasion in Primary 6 when they cowered sobbing quietly around the back of the school, the world torn on pain and misery, after Timothy took their rubber without asking. Those of us whose rubbers continued to be taken might have a different story to convey.

Let's take the bully and the victim, first; a victim can be tormented to terror, and I give the deepest and most heartfelt condolences I possibly can to those people. But if there's only one thing I can say to help those people, it's to not hate the bully. I would express it if I could, but please rest assured that there I can see the feelings you can't convey to anyone. Don't hate the world, as it brings no peace from it. There are many bullies, and to list them all would be quite insane, but there are those who want blood (proverbial or not), those who don't realise the victim's pain, and those who fear others. None are on a pedestal, no more than you are in a ditch. The funny thing is, we're all human. If you had the mind of the bully for a day, mark my words that you would be both amazed and in awe at how normal it would seem. So, they aren't anywhere else from you, if that's what you're thinking. The same goes the other way! Bullies, the victims aren't untouchable. I hope this all makes sense, but whether it does or not, I understand all the feelings of the school-pupil. At least someone understands you, always remember that.

Second of the question! Let's examine teachers' pets and everyone else. (To my mind, there are only two categories. You might find more, in which case you're probably right. Let me know them, I'd appreciate it!) Another pain surely comes from seeing the clever-clogs who cannot be touched (a parallel to what I was saying in the last paragraph. That's interesting); why is their work shown to the class and not yours? Can I not transcend this physical boundary of humanity and overcome all subconscious oppressors? Am I not the special one?! (Don't understand? The best!) But really, this kind of thing grates the senses, whoever you may be. We all wonder at the person who is seemingly destined of the marks, theirs everlasting, and ours below, in the gloom of unknowing. A clash of two worlds? Empty words are these again, but mark them anyway: it comes no better than when we want not those which we do not think we have. They aren't in a special world, they really aren't. You can't see it, but it's not. As with the bully, be their mind for a second. Do you see now? Consider it seriously.

And the last: popular and unpopular. The age-old struggle, perhaps mostly unknown to those before pretty much their final school years. The years where children select children and drink, dance, and become merry. Well, what can I say that hasn't been said? Don't be alone. You aren't, their world is not the mysterious world, you're both in the same place, be their mind, be them in your mind (is it possible? Well, maybe). Finally, be happy.

Yes, finally, be happy. Have you read all this and aren't relieved? Alright, so the essay didn't work then. In that case, there's still one thing that I can say that you might not appreciate, not knowing me, but the words are here for you to carry in peace: I'm there with you.

I have been, I am, I will always be. I'm not leaving school in the dust; those who are there are there, and theirs is a brilliant battle; Victoria crosses all round, I say!

Still confused? That's fine. Some more words, then: conquer the need to conquer the world.

Have I covered everyone? No. There are too many. There is too much. School is a strange world, and let nobody ever tell you that you aren't part of it. Yes, you. Yes, despite that.

Dance with the bitter, and sing with the pain; for when you make enemies to defeat, you make them the most important thing in your world.  ¶ 8:24 pm