A Year Later

‘September 19^th 2011’. I came across a post I wrote exactly a year ago. I was talking about starting my final year of high school. The pressure I felt was indescribable. Every day I would wake up and hastily try to get to my school duties. Try to be the best I could be academically.

There was time for love – even though it was looked down upon during that stage of my life. There was time for fun – even though it was looked down upon during that stage of my life. There was time for adventure – even though it was looked down upon during that stage of my life.

This time last year was chaotic. But the fact that I’m here, a year later, gives me the impression that nothing is impossible; That you have to give things a try if they’re what you really want; That not succeeding academically is not the worst thing that can happen; That there are worse case scenarios.

I was a student who did not do as well as I intended on my exams last year and I feel proud of myself.

Why do I feel proud of myself?

Because various situations changed me and it was in my hand to take experiences and let them affect me negatively or positively. I learned how to love unconditionally. I learned how to communicate better. I cultivated my knowledge on social/political/economical aspects on a global scale. I broadened my horizon with new music, literature and history. I found freedom in honesty and in admitting I could be very wrong when the opportunity rose.

Sure, there were times when I didn’t give it my best shot. But also, I can honestly say that as much as my teachers, peers and family sought to make it clear that the last year of high school was excruciatingly important, I couldn’t fully agree or maybe didn’t quite want to.

Yes, it was important - but to an extent. I wanted to have time to actually live.

Everyone was so caught up in getting the best marks or scoring higher grades than their classmates that often learning didn’t seem fun or creative.  It seemed like a competition.

The sad part was that, most of the students who were very successful throughout the year in their curriculum had no clue about the world around them. They could solve a difficult physics exercise but couldn’t hold a conversation about politics. They could memorize pages and pages of history but they couldn’t spark up conversation about important historic eras if you asked them about it.

It’s also ironic to see people agree that education is suffering from commercialization and they do nothing but go along with it.

It’s as if they’re protesting without a voice. Rioting in whispers.

So, for me, education isn’t just one year in high school. It’s the people you randomly bump into at bus stations; It’s that time you got lost in a new city and had no clue where you were; It’s visiting museums and seeing street musicians; It’s meeting strangers and realizing you have things in common; It’s learning which supermarket has better discounts. Education is, in fact, everyday life. 

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