"I don't think that being a strong person is about ignoring your emotions and fighting your feelings. Putting on a brave face doesn't mean you're a brave person. That's why everybody in my life knows everything that I'm going through. I can't hide anything from them. People need to realise that being open isn't the same as being weak."

- Taylor Swift

Monday, September 14, 2009

I'm Wrong.

School tells you that you're wrong, every day. That you're stupid. You're crazy. That everyone else is so much better than you.

If you like spending all your evenings researching the anatomy of an atom, then my school is totally for you. If you like doing university-standard maths in your early teens, then my school is definately for you. If you like going to bed at eleven and waking up at four, then my school is the thing for you.

School tells you over and over that you're a loser, that you can't keep up, that no matter how hard you try, you never try hard enough. Even if you change your supposedly bad ways, your past comes back and bites you on the bum. Letters and detentions meant to be dealt with months ago come out just when you're reforming, and then you get in trouble again.

There is no privacy at school. They watch your every move, and punish every minor thing, real or imaginary - and yes, most of them are imaginary.

And I can't stand people yelling - at me, or at anyone, unless I really hate the person getting yelled at. I am terrified of yelling - I have too many bad memories of people screaming their lungs out at me. And they yell at me, left right and centre. I'm always guilty until proven innocent, wrong until proven right. They yell at me for things that happened way in the past, things they've already yelled at me for, and for things that are purely in their imaginations. I've been through a lot of shit, and I think I'm pretty tough, but I can't stand people yelling - I just break down. But if I do, I'm a wimp. If I cry, I'm shirking responsibility, being childish and petty and foolish, being weak and trying to get sympathy votes. If I somehow manage not to cry, I'm hardened, brazen, impudent, rude and an ungrateful whore.

Have they ever considered just how hard it is for me to be a good student? Maybe they should stop burying me under crippling pressure and maybe give me a little help. They don't let people with dyslexia just crash and burn like they're letting me do. Have they ever considered that I'm not lazy, or intentionally disobedient, just misunderstood? Have they ever seen my side of the story? Have they ever admitted that maybe, just maybe, that sometimes I'm right and they're wrong?

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