School

I love school. This is no joking matter, I really do. The routine, the controlled chaos, it is all absolutely fantastic to me. I spent most of my life knowing what I would do with it when it came time to make a choice. I always knew that I would become a teacher. This whole writing a book thing really threw a wrench into my plan. Lucky for me, I do well with multi-tasking.

I started my student teaching this week, and what a wonderful week it has been. To be completely honest, I was dreading the start of this year. I didn't know if I wanted to continue on with my plan to become a teacher, even though I had to finish if I ever wanted to do anything with my degree. Not to mention the fact that I was out of my mind with fear. But, we all know that we are the bravest when we are forced to face our fears.

So I did, even though I really had no choice in the matter. I walked into a small building, a Freshman in high school for the second time in my life. Sure, that is an exaggeration, but by the end of the first day, I was a bit overwhelmed. But, I went back the second day, the third, fourth, and the fifth. Did it get easier? Of course it did. Am I still afraid? Petrified. This is me we're talking about. If I wasn't stressed out, the world might very well end.

The school I will spend the next 8 weeks with is a small high school north of Lawrence. Most of the kids have gone to school together since Kindergarten. I wanted to teach in a rural school because I grew up in a rural school. Inner city has never been my forte, and those kids would eat me alive anyway. They say to always stick to what you know, and call me crazy, but I think I know a thing or two about small town life. After all, I do hail from arguably the greatest small town in the world. But, I could be a little bias.

When we are young, we always play the game of, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" I'm sure I have had many colorful answers over the years, but as I said before, I always knew deep down what I would do with my life. It may not be an immediate thing with the way my life usually twists and turns, but I know teaching will always be there for me. I love it too much to let it go.

I was standing in the hallway watching as students passed by me, rushing to get to their classes. Boys who had known each other their entire lives wore football jerseys in anticipation for the annual scrimmage, while girls giggled at a private joke made years before I ever walked in the building. For a moment, I was thrust back into my past. Purple blurred to green, friends I made as a child replaced the strangers. I realized in that moment why I loved school, why I appreciated being placed in this school even though I had been there only a short week.

I was home.

Dystopia

Have you ever had one of those days that started off perfect, but by the end, you are standing in front of your bedroom wall staring at 2346 extra screw holes in the wall that you never intended to be there? Yeah, well, I share your pain.

Sometimes I think life wouldn’t be so bad in a dystopian society. Sure, there would be oppression and misery, but at least I wouldn’t have to move. I hate moving, almost more than I hate dolls, but that is a different story. If you don’t know, a dystopian society is traditionally a futuristic society built in a world that suppresses something or everything that we would normally hold true and good as human beings. Sounds fantastic, I know. But really, after my traumatic incident moving, I really think it is a step we humans should consider taking.

First, you wouldn’t have to move all your stuff up stairs in the 100+ degree weather, only to spend the next week unpacking it all. You also wouldn’t have to submit your mother to the torturous heat, who tells you every few minutes, “I am an old woman! This place is ridiculous!” Now why wouldn’t you do this? Well, because in a dystopian society, you don’t have possessions. Okay, so this may be an exaggeration, but most of the time, characters only have a few articles of clothing, and their stuff can fit in a backpack. In dystopian societies, the government provides you with a home already furnished, so you don’t have to worry about moving. You’re assigned a place, and you only move when you’re old enough to leave your parents. Additionally, if you have to move anything, the government has someone (or a robot) to do that for you. It’s perfect.

In a dystopian society, you don’t have to hang curtains. In fact, you don’t have to hang anything in a dystopian society because they probably don’t believe in such nonsense. No art, they don’t want you to be creative. That’s just blasphemy in their eyes! You don’t need curtains because the sun is probably blocked out by nuclear winter. I swear I would take that over hanging another curtain. I don’t even know what happened, but I can say that I am not handy. I wish I were, but I’m not. After a frustrated call to my father, who by the way, just laughed, I spent another 45 minutes hanging the curtain rod from hell. I broke the screwdriver, and I literally had plaster falling off the wall. Ah well, nothing some putty won’t fix, hopefully.

Lastly, you don’t have to check your mail. Why? Well, because in a dystopian society, the world is either too decrepit to actually have a mail system, or everything is done electronically. I never thought there would come a day that I couldn’t check my own mail. Truthfully, though, I have absolutely no idea where my mailbox is. You would think it would be easy, but it’s not. It is ridiculous, and I am sure my new property manager’s just love the girl who can’t check her own mail...

Dystopian societies fascinate me. I guess this is a good thing for me (and you someday, maybe) because I spent the past few years writing about one. I wrote this particular post to warm you up to the idea of such a place. My fictitious world is full of oppression and routine, and as much as I loved writing it, I would never want to live in that world. We all have our days, and we all hate doing things we don’t like or aren’t good at. But ultimately, those things are what make life wonderfully chaotic and unexpected. Sometimes it is ridiculous and I question if it can get any worse, but in the end, it is an awfully beautiful life.