Stories of a Real Life Teen

Ugly Truth

I stare at the blank piece of paper. I don’t feel like doing this, I’m not that interested by nonfiction. How do you even write nonfiction creatively? Is it something you’re just supposed to know or is there a rhyme or reason to it. Sometimes I wish I could just do what I want. I’m a teenager, people think I have no cares in the world but that’s a lie. All it seems I do is work.

I Work at my job or on my homework it’s all I get to do with maybe a few moments to myself a day. I just spent three hours doing my mathematics’ homework and yet I’m nowhere near done with my work. I have to write the essay on the subject I know so little about and then do my chemistry work page of calculations and physical properties. When did school get so hard? I remember sitting in first grade where the only homework was writing your alphabet in cursive and read a line in a book. Now it’s do thirty to fifty pre-calculus problems, read a two chapters in a novel, a section in my chemistry book while taking notes, and writing this essay with four or five test on Friday. School is hard, there is nothing more to say about it. I’m glad I have access to this type of education but I believe the school board doesn’t think students have lives outside of the prison we call High school.

I use to love school, I remember how excited I was going to my first day of class. The smell of erasers, the wonders of books yet to be read, and the smiling faces of kids just as excited as you to be there. When’s the last time you saw a High school student excited about school? I sit here on my couch listening to my friend Valentina curse in Spanish at her text book for not understanding. This makes me think, what happen to school being fun? Teachers making sure every student is completely prepared instead of just passing them off, lost and confused.

            We are expected to know a lot and act a certain way in school. I act differently through my classes, changing my personality to meet the standers and wants of that specific teacher. It’s become habit to change who I am to get through a class. First bell I’m overly peppy and answers any question I can. Second bell I bit my tongue and work silently blocking out the world. Third bell I am over joyed and funny. Fourth bell I’m honest. Fifth bell I open up a lot more than I have in a while. Six bell I’m girly and fun. Seventh bell I’m back to silence and hardworking. Notice through each bell I never said I’m myself? I’m not the only one who thinks all this. I am not the only student who changes there personality from place to place. Students shouldn’t have to do this, no one should have to change who they are but that’s not how society works now a days.

I stare at the now written pages with words of anger and truth. This is how I feel and I’m not the only one. Maybe I’m just having a bad day, maybe this is how I truly think; honestly I don’t know. One way or another it’s what I wrote and I mean every word, even if I come to regret it but I can’t always bend myself to make others happy. Sometimes I have to be myself no matter the cost.

Honesty is the best policy right?