WHY?

The many days spent in the grasps of the education system can take a toll on the average man, woman, or child. From the many math classes spent analyzing shapes and figuring out letters, to the science classes dissecting flowers and worms. We have all seen the oddities that school can throw at us, and frankly I am sick of it!
We start at the primary level, learning the most basic of human abilities. Such as, "sharing is caring," "treat others the way you want to be treated," colors, and the alphabet song. We then move to the intermediate level of schooling learning the "principles of 4 square," and "tetherball 101." Then lastly, the secondary level, learning such things as "Calculus," "Physics," "The Periodic Table of Elements," and the best ways to get out of awkward situations that are completely and totally your fault. Some people say that, "the most valuable things you learn are in the first three years of school," I agree with those people. As we sit politely listening to stories and having naps, we grow more in that time then we ever will in math class.  Do you ever look back fondly on that great Trigonomotry class that revamped you for the day, I say nay! But you do look back on the nap that revitalized you for the tasks at hand. "Treat others the way you want to be treated" has gotten me through much more then the parts of a worm ever will.
There is many sayings that pat the back of toddlers, but never young adults, ever heard someone talk about "how much you can learn from a teenager?" No! Ever heard someone talk about how much you can learn from a 3 year old? Heck Yes! Something is seriously wrong when highschool students are being outsmarted by 3 year olds.
"Children are the change we want to see in the world." Not young adults, Children, we are a lost cause, and school isn't helping
Why not?

"A Still Life"

A Still Life-


He see's the sight he's always longed for,

"First from his study to the back yard, then from there to his front lawn"

He used to see "salmon tins glinting with silver,

set above hand painted signs instructing purchasers to deposit twenty-five or fifty cents."

now he see's the same colors, the never fading

white

paint of the walls, the

mahagony

of his desk, the

lines

of the paper, and the

blue

smeared ink of his pen.

he used to "meander" instead of run,

he used to cruise through "the suburan labyrinth of cul-de-sacs, bays, and circles, losing and finding himself endlessly,"

and he used to pass by "the houses (that) all face the sun,"

he
longs

for that again.

the "cracked sidewalks and the ridges of stiff grass" call for his return, that return will not likely soon

come

He sits in his office remembering the "fences here (that) are little more than fragments," and "the

police car (that) was concealed in the shadows of a side street," like a panther

stalking it's prey.

and as he feels his "sunglasses" fling from his face from the initial impact and his legs crumple underneath him

He asks,

What would it feel like?

he sits in the chair that has been like a prison since that faithful day, and remembers his last "voluntary movement (below his waist), reaching his hand toward his wallet"

And as he watches the fly dart in and out of his office, he has found what he craves most.




MOVEMENT.