The opinions expressed in these articles are the views of the writer themselves and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the CHS Chronicle.
To the Adults of the School Districts of the Chathams:
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a school district in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of more fortune. Moreover, that district must want to display their fortune in a manner that makes others envious, even at the expense of hiding any misfortunes that the district has. Such a mentality leads to a culture of showing off and a practice of shoving impurities out of the limelight. To be fair, this goes beyond any one school district: it is the product of a host of factors that have defined the American culture. Unfortunately, one aspiring muckraker cannot influence the deeply-ingrained beliefs of a nation. That muckraker—or informant, or just an average individual with an opinion—hopes that the people who do read this will be inspired to think and be an agent of change.
Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my peers, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these paragraphs must show. Democracy, I’ve learned, is a very flawed institution. We see this in governments across millennium from transcontinental empires to local towns, from history textbooks to works of fiction. The career of politics was never meant to be long-lasting. Unfortunately, it is, and the esteemed official sitting on a board, endowed with certain privileges that helped him get the seat in the first place and privileges that come with that office, becomes out-of-touch with his constituents. And those who can or will vote are but a small proportion of those who he represents. Chatham High School has about 1,300 students. We complain about the same things. We notice many flaws. Some of them are addressed. Most of them… well, aren’t.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of enlightenment, it was the age of naivete, it was the spring of dreams, it was the winter of failures, it was the epoch of speech, it was the epoch of silence, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us—in short, we find ourselves in a turbulent cycle of ups and downs with no pause button in sight. We come into high school knowing it will be a time of hard work, our first exposure to the real world, a prelude to college. We are told we need to play sports, and volunteer, and maintain good grades, and have a healthy social life, and attend all family functions, and be charitable, and make money, and sleep. We are quite good at most of this (the average teenager requires at least 9 hours of sleep a day, and I am 95% confident that fewer than 10% of the school gets this on a daily basis). Teachers say, “grades don’t matter! It’s the knowledge acquired that counts!”, where in reality, colleges and employers don’t see how much we’ve learned, but our transcript. Parents say, “go be a teen while you still can!”, when we may have 40+ pages of reading to do, textbook notes, dozens of math problems, three tests, two essays, and a lab practical in the coming week (this has happened more than once). Some say that this is self-imposed. Yeah, right. Which human being would willingly work more, stress more, if there wasn’t a glimmer of success and a better future at the end? If you’re going to dangle the toy mouse six feet above the cat, don’t scold the cat for over-exerting itself as it tries to jump.
All clean bathrooms are alike; each unclean bathroom is unclean in its own way. In one particular girls’ bathroom, three lack toilet paper and one is clogged. Of four sinks, two don’t even work, and two treat your sweater and the mirror to a sprinkler-type shower. The dryers take over 40 seconds to render your hands “not wet” (which, for the record, is not the same as dry). The air carries an indescribable stench that descends on the nostrils. The lines spill out into the hallways. It also takes, on average, at least a minute to walk to a bathroom facility. Time we spend to perform one of life’s necessary chores could, maybe, translate into time someone checks to ensure the fundamental materials are present. It’s flu season: how do we wash our hands without soap and water?
Once upon a time, fourth-graders discovered that hot dog weiners bounce. More recently, high schoolers discover that they could be charged over four dollars for uncooked pasta or grilled cheese where the bread is harder than a pencil, and the cheese is not melted. Chicken nuggets can be called chicken nuggets if they’re held together by a white glue-type substance. Boxed water sounds great – let’s save the environment, even as we drink water with a pH of 5 (I should also say, I have yet to see a teacher drink boxed water). It took me 20 minutes to get lunch one day- nothing against the service; everything against the design of the cafeteria. Get a sandwich, you say. Sure! It’s also a 20-minute wait for food that’s definitely more edible, yet there’s also a 50% price increase. Snacks and drinks are over a dollar: that’s even more expensive than Whole Foods’ organic ones.
The life of a student is a foreign country: we do things differently here. I want to invite the adults of the school district to come and live the life of a high schooler. Sure, we don’t have meetings in plush office chairs that come with wheels, and our classrooms fit slightly more than the dozen that cramp into a spacious conference room, but we have our own set of challenges. As Shakira put it, try everything. Try writing a five-paragraph analysis essay in an hour, when your teachers have always told you essays shouldn’t be written in one sitting. Try going from differential equations to the connotations behind sixteenth-century poetry, from English to Spanish to Latin (which is present in science and English classes). Try imagining a future that requires you to do so much, know so much, when you’re cramped in a cafeteria studying cell structures and eating raw and soggy pancakes. Try it: it’s fun. And yes, you’ve done it before, but it’s the 21st century now! We use Chromebooks that automatically log us out and delete all of our tabs when we close them.
I may be an invisible student to you, but it need not be this way. Come be a part of our world. Be our guest, be our guest- put the service you’ve worked so hard on to the test. I’m sure it’ll be a pleasure to meet you at last. Come eat with us at lunch on chairs that have paint and gum on them. Come learn with us in classrooms that pump cold air on a wintry January day. I’d love to accept the mission, if you so choose, and experience your world – your triumphs, your struggles, your annoyances.
But wherever you go, and whatever happens to you on the way, in this crowded building thirteen hundred teenagers will always be studying.