One of the things which continually bothers me, is when people go on for long periods of time about how 'crazy' or 'sarcastic' or what a great sense of humor they have. It is possibly the stupidest thing when people say, "I've got a great sense of humor," because chances are....well, they don't. Or they do, but laughing at your own jokes doesn't constitute a crowd. (I'm beating myself up, now.)
I hope that I never claim to be any of those things. When I talk to people other than ones that I don't know, I'm not a big talker. "Mute" I think was the word recently used. On a scale of everyone, I'm probably as normal as they come, and as for sarcasm, it gets me in trouble, I don't like it anymore.
That's actually the point of this rant, although I took a slight detour because I typed out the title, ignored that stealthy 'delete' button, and realized that the headliner really sucked. It holds everything that I don't like. This is about guidance counselors, plain old guidance counselors, and I guess a little other stuff, which works, accept for the word stuff but that delete button is looking scary and I'd rather confuse you than make this understandable. (Stupid button, STOP LOOKING AT ME MR. DELETE.)
Let me start again, ok? I'll type out a better title, or at least bearable.
You know what? To hell with titles, I'm just gonna start write in. Oh wait! I got one! Woohoo.
Ok. I got nothing.
Anyhoo, about three weeks ago I went to a thing called the 'Future Focus Expo'. I won't go in too much depth so not to repeat anything I'll talk about later, but I will say that it wasn't the most worthy cause I've ever been to. As was to be expected, when we got back to school we had to write an essay on our opinion of the experience. Our English teacher didn't even want us to, but the guidance counselor did, so, well, you can figure out the rest. When it was assigned, I got this silly notion that it was actually supposed to be our opinion. Silly me.
This is what I wrote: (Riley is a technical center)
There is something innately disturbing about a Future Focus Expo.
Every sane child likes to get out of school for a few hours, but
there is something unsettling about focusing on your future when
you're fourteen. It's like signing your soul away to be a dental
assistant for the rest of your life....freaky.
This expo, and I might add that I have quite a bit of experience
judging/ripping apart pick-your-career functions, reached the
peak of disturbing. The purpose, I assume, was to inform kids
that they can put their interests into play with plausible careers.
Putting those career actions into training at Riley was another
desire. The funny thing is, we learned about Riley in 8th grade,
so we already know the opportunities presented there. Furthermore,
Riley exists for 10th, 11th or 12th graders. I can see myself
in those grades, I at least have friends in them, but pick your
career for the rest of your life? Sheesh, what kid wants to think
about the eventual work day? For that matter, what kid doesn't
change what they want to be at least twice a year? At this point
in time, I want to be an emu. 'Nuff said.
As I've said, the objectives were lost. We already knew about
Riley and with all the free stuff that everyone was getting, you
didn't even bother to look at the booth as you stuffed goods into
your bag. That didn't leave a whole lot of room for exploring
future career options. Who wants to think about being a restaurant
manager when there is free toothpaste a table away?
While even I will admit that the band was really cool and a few
of the people who lured us to their tables with free pencils were
interesting, the insane amount of people present and the disorganization
of wandering about took away from any career exploration. I would
like to know at least vaguely what I'm going to do with my life,
but not at a school sanctioned event. I'll be perfectly willing
to think about different professions, but not when I know that
I will have to return to school and write a summary of my thoughts.
Those are minor examples of what bothered me about the expo, what
really angered me were the subliminal messages. Far fetched, it
may seem, but no, oh no. The entire event was put on by the army,
a Future Focus Expo. The army is a future, is it not? Each
child was given an army or navy bag for the things they would
acquire, hundreds of bags shining in that alluring green and blue.
Each time someone went to put their free brochures in their bag
(except for me, I turned it inside out), they would see ARMY in
huge letters. Find a career, but don't forget about the army.
I found that unsettling. SUBLIMINAL MESSAGES ARE BAD, has everyone
forgotten this except me? Kids may not have gotten a lot out of
the event, but they do still have the bags, and the flashes of
Army were impossible to miss. Was another objective to entice
kids to "be all you can be"?
While on an academic level I found the expo a waste of time, on
a "yea-we-get-out-of-school" level, it was surprisingly
refreshing. I don't think it helped kids relate careers to their
interests, as we still have four years until you can do anything
about them if you don't chose Stafford, but I'm sure that on some
remote, remote level on some remote, remote world there is more
academic relevance to a Future Focus Expo than getting free pencils
for class. Somewhere....
Despite the fact that they weren't really subliminal since the bags were right out in the open, it may not have been the most complimentary piece that I've ever written. Funnily enough, my English teacher liked it. Of course my luck couldn't stop there, nooooooo, the guidance counselor had to have a copy of every essay, and I now have an administrative enemy. According to the secretary (who rocks), Mrs. Guidance Counselor Lady was pissed off when she read it.
My English teacher wanted to send it to the stupid state reading and scoring thing, but Mrs. Stupid Guidance Counselor lady said that it was too sarcastic. In other words, she didn't like my opinion, I think she might have even said it. She also hates my mom. I don't know why I just wrote that, because it has absolutely nothing to do with the above sentance, but that's ok.
Now, here comes the climax. My English teacher was almost acting like a real person. She doesn't mind opinions for the most part (unless she feels really strongly about a subject), but it was the guidance counselor, and other teachers in general, who don't like kids who disagree with them. I thought that adults want kids to think. Am I mistaken? Why yes, yes I am. The great majority of teachers don't want you to think, they want you to spew back their opinions. (This isn't excactly fair to write when my actual teacher didn't mind, but it is something that any kid who went or is going through school has had to deal with, so I feel justified.)
And you know what else is funny? If this doesn't blow over eventually, which her silent grudge probably won't, she writes the college recommondations. I messed with the wrong useless administrative position. Doh.