The last day of school.
Jun. 5th, 2006 11:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
farlaThe last day of school was pretty much what you'd expect, considering.
We went to first period class for no real reason, then all arranged ourselves in the gym. There we were lectured. The vice-principal in charge of our class basically explained that we were screwups who he hated.
No, actually, I'm not kidding.
After being lectured on the fact three people had been involved in a senior prank so minor no one had even known it had happened but was, he explained, not a PRANK but VANDALISM, and the fact that about two dozen people had taken part in a senior skip day (the number requires you count people who skipped first period, or due to class structure normally come in at second period and had the misfortune to arrive slightly late that day) which was, of course, TOTALLY UNACCEPTABLE, (You don't even want to know our total class size. Let's just say he was in decimal-point territory.) and the fact we…actually, he didn't have anything more, which didn't stop him from speaking a bit more on how we were screwing up, but just required more general terms about not doing well and how we as a class were this close to getting all our privileges revoked, and how we were a hair's- breadth away from being suspended if we did ANYTHING out of line, he began the rant on graduating.
"This is not about you!" he snapped into the microphone. "Do you understand? It is not about you anymore! So you'd better not do anything stupid that will get you suspended, because your families want to see you get your diploma. It's about them, not you!"
That's not paraphrased – I had my notebook out at the time and wrote that down.
After he finished explaining that we were horribly behaved egotistical twits who were this close to getting suspended, he ended his speech with, "Now I know most of you have been doing very well, so just keep on doing what you've been doing."
It was like a little half-hour condensation of the whole administrative year.
Then we sat for four hours and went home.
Well, some stood, but I was smarter and less impatient.
The idea was for us to walk around from table to table to get everything in order – pick up forms, drop off textbooks, all that.
Remember my previous allusion to the class size?
The first ten people got through and out in about thirty minutes. Everything behind them bottlenecked.
Now, the logical way to do this would have been to let us break into several groups and go to the different tables.
In full fairness, I can see how someone might not immediately see this was a problem. It did take me about ten full seconds to realize it while I watched the line form and saw the speed people were moving. I'm not quite sure how someone planning it wouldn't realize, but I can dimly understand it as a possibility. I really struggle with how someone who had done this before wouldn't realize, but technically this is a 'new' idea since normally they do it during graduation dress rehearsal, and considering the administration's past competence, it really isn't that impossible that someone thought the problem would magically go away if they did it in the gym instead.
I can see that.
I can even see setting the system up to prevent students from skipping around. That level of foresight combined with an utter lack of foresight on the issue of crowding is a bit hard to understand, but separately I can conceive the two ideas.
But see, this is my school. So of course, it has to get worse.
See, despite it being immediately evident that the whole thing was a colossal mess, they still wouldn't let you skip areas. The people at the tables claimed there was some sort of reason for this. One they wouldn't divulge to someone skipping to their area.
So I cornered the guidance counselor when she left one of the tables for some reason.
"Why can't we go to the end?"
"Because you won't be allowed to go to the end until you've done everything else."
"I know that," I said. "Why?"
"Because you need to get the rest of your sheet checked off before you're allowed to go to the end."
"Well, yes, I noticed. I'm asking what the reason for that is."
"To make sure people don't skip ahead."
"Yes," I said, starting to sound frustrated. "I get that. I just want to know the reason it's set up like that."
"Look, I don't want to argue about this."
"I'm not arguing. I just want to know what the reason behind it is."
"It's like that because that's the way it was set up."
"But why was it?"
"Look, I don't want to argue about this. I didn't set it up."
"Didn't you ask?" I asked.
"I don't want to argue about this," she said again. "It's the way it was set up. I didn't set it up."
"Do you think this is the best way to do it," I demanded after a moment. When people don't answer, you do wind up arguing.
She looked away, down slightly, as if she was trying to pretend the whole of the conversation hadn't happened and shift gears. "Well," she said after a moment, her tone half-joking and false-friendly and insincere, as if I was really that stupid, "I'm sure no one likes to stand in line."
"No," I snapped. "In order. Do you think this is the best way to do it? Do you think this is a good idea or not? Is there a reason that actually matters or not."
"I don't want to argue about this."
If the speech was the perfect representation of the administration, the conversation was the perfect representation of the faculty.
So my choice was to stand in line for three and a half hours, or sit for three and a half hours and stand for a half hour.
Unfortunately others figured out the same thing.
"Hey you! Who you wanna punish?" yelled the random black kid a few rows below me.
"Um." I had no idea what this means.
"Who you wanna punish!" he repeated.
I'd been sitting for two hours. After a few more seconds – "All the adults," I said, gesturing vaguely to the gym floor.
"You wanna punish me?"
"Uh, no?"
"Then why the hell you don't lemme cheat?"
"What?"
"You wanna punish me? Why the hell don't you lemme cheat off you?" At least that's what I think he said – the 'off you' could really have 'you' or anything really, given the way he was speaking.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I informed him, trying to remember if I'd seen him before and if this was some sort of joke.
"Youknow in class! That time!"
"Um," I said. "You're in my class?"
"What! You don remember the mouthy black kid? Man, you kidden?"
"I'm sorry?" I tried.
"I can't believe this! You don lemme cheat and now you actin like you don't even know?"
"I'm sorry?" I tried again. "Er, what year was this?"
"This one!"
"Oh…kay." I paused, no longer feeling mildly apologetic. "What class?"
"I dun know, like Math or English!"
"I didn't even take Math this year," I said with finality.
"Okay then, English."
"I'm in AP."
"Ah, okay, we're cool." He turns back to his group.
And that, you see, is the pure, distilled essence of the student body.
We went to first period class for no real reason, then all arranged ourselves in the gym. There we were lectured. The vice-principal in charge of our class basically explained that we were screwups who he hated.
No, actually, I'm not kidding.
After being lectured on the fact three people had been involved in a senior prank so minor no one had even known it had happened but was, he explained, not a PRANK but VANDALISM, and the fact that about two dozen people had taken part in a senior skip day (the number requires you count people who skipped first period, or due to class structure normally come in at second period and had the misfortune to arrive slightly late that day) which was, of course, TOTALLY UNACCEPTABLE, (You don't even want to know our total class size. Let's just say he was in decimal-point territory.) and the fact we…actually, he didn't have anything more, which didn't stop him from speaking a bit more on how we were screwing up, but just required more general terms about not doing well and how we as a class were this close to getting all our privileges revoked, and how we were a hair's- breadth away from being suspended if we did ANYTHING out of line, he began the rant on graduating.
"This is not about you!" he snapped into the microphone. "Do you understand? It is not about you anymore! So you'd better not do anything stupid that will get you suspended, because your families want to see you get your diploma. It's about them, not you!"
That's not paraphrased – I had my notebook out at the time and wrote that down.
After he finished explaining that we were horribly behaved egotistical twits who were this close to getting suspended, he ended his speech with, "Now I know most of you have been doing very well, so just keep on doing what you've been doing."
It was like a little half-hour condensation of the whole administrative year.
Then we sat for four hours and went home.
Well, some stood, but I was smarter and less impatient.
The idea was for us to walk around from table to table to get everything in order – pick up forms, drop off textbooks, all that.
Remember my previous allusion to the class size?
The first ten people got through and out in about thirty minutes. Everything behind them bottlenecked.
Now, the logical way to do this would have been to let us break into several groups and go to the different tables.
In full fairness, I can see how someone might not immediately see this was a problem. It did take me about ten full seconds to realize it while I watched the line form and saw the speed people were moving. I'm not quite sure how someone planning it wouldn't realize, but I can dimly understand it as a possibility. I really struggle with how someone who had done this before wouldn't realize, but technically this is a 'new' idea since normally they do it during graduation dress rehearsal, and considering the administration's past competence, it really isn't that impossible that someone thought the problem would magically go away if they did it in the gym instead.
I can see that.
I can even see setting the system up to prevent students from skipping around. That level of foresight combined with an utter lack of foresight on the issue of crowding is a bit hard to understand, but separately I can conceive the two ideas.
But see, this is my school. So of course, it has to get worse.
See, despite it being immediately evident that the whole thing was a colossal mess, they still wouldn't let you skip areas. The people at the tables claimed there was some sort of reason for this. One they wouldn't divulge to someone skipping to their area.
So I cornered the guidance counselor when she left one of the tables for some reason.
"Why can't we go to the end?"
"Because you won't be allowed to go to the end until you've done everything else."
"I know that," I said. "Why?"
"Because you need to get the rest of your sheet checked off before you're allowed to go to the end."
"Well, yes, I noticed. I'm asking what the reason for that is."
"To make sure people don't skip ahead."
"Yes," I said, starting to sound frustrated. "I get that. I just want to know the reason it's set up like that."
"Look, I don't want to argue about this."
"I'm not arguing. I just want to know what the reason behind it is."
"It's like that because that's the way it was set up."
"But why was it?"
"Look, I don't want to argue about this. I didn't set it up."
"Didn't you ask?" I asked.
"I don't want to argue about this," she said again. "It's the way it was set up. I didn't set it up."
"Do you think this is the best way to do it," I demanded after a moment. When people don't answer, you do wind up arguing.
She looked away, down slightly, as if she was trying to pretend the whole of the conversation hadn't happened and shift gears. "Well," she said after a moment, her tone half-joking and false-friendly and insincere, as if I was really that stupid, "I'm sure no one likes to stand in line."
"No," I snapped. "In order. Do you think this is the best way to do it? Do you think this is a good idea or not? Is there a reason that actually matters or not."
"I don't want to argue about this."
If the speech was the perfect representation of the administration, the conversation was the perfect representation of the faculty.
So my choice was to stand in line for three and a half hours, or sit for three and a half hours and stand for a half hour.
Unfortunately others figured out the same thing.
"Hey you! Who you wanna punish?" yelled the random black kid a few rows below me.
"Um." I had no idea what this means.
"Who you wanna punish!" he repeated.
I'd been sitting for two hours. After a few more seconds – "All the adults," I said, gesturing vaguely to the gym floor.
"You wanna punish me?"
"Uh, no?"
"Then why the hell you don't lemme cheat?"
"What?"
"You wanna punish me? Why the hell don't you lemme cheat off you?" At least that's what I think he said – the 'off you' could really have 'you' or anything really, given the way he was speaking.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I informed him, trying to remember if I'd seen him before and if this was some sort of joke.
"Youknow in class! That time!"
"Um," I said. "You're in my class?"
"What! You don remember the mouthy black kid? Man, you kidden?"
"I'm sorry?" I tried.
"I can't believe this! You don lemme cheat and now you actin like you don't even know?"
"I'm sorry?" I tried again. "Er, what year was this?"
"This one!"
"Oh…kay." I paused, no longer feeling mildly apologetic. "What class?"
"I dun know, like Math or English!"
"I didn't even take Math this year," I said with finality.
"Okay then, English."
"I'm in AP."
"Ah, okay, we're cool." He turns back to his group.
And that, you see, is the pure, distilled essence of the student body.
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no subject
Date: 2006-06-06 05:38 am (UTC)I'm just glad I didn't put myself through one of the courses I would need for my "diversity" credit before that, too, mysteriously vanished into the netherworld of graduation requirements.