Wednesday, January 25, 2017

I'm At The Top Now! Oh....nevermind...

Hey peoples.......

I'm sad....

And angry....

And frustrated....

And disappointed....

And upset....


...kidding, mostly.

Side note:  This doesn't have much to do with the actual post, but...status update from yours truly.  I feel like this right now:

Here's my tragic story....

Grade 8, Term 1: honour roll (certificate)
Grade 8, Term 2: honour roll (certificate)
Grade 8, Term 3: honour roll (certificate)

Grade 9, Term 1: honour roll (certificate)
Grade 9, Term 2: honour roll (certificate) AND Principal's List (certificate AND breakfast)
Grade 9, Term 3: honour roll (certificate)

In grade nine, term two, I miraculously got on the Principal's List (straight As) for the first time in....ever.
(read: I'm actually not a bad student, P.E. was the only class that kept me from straight As)

Oh, it was grand!  We had a recognition assembly where a red carpet was rolled out on stage, and the principal would call us up by name (there weren't many of us!  Maybe six....and there were over...a few hundred kids in my grade!)....we would go home, shake his hand, collect out certificate and shine. That term, we also had a Principal's List lunch.  I've never had such an elaborate lunch in school before!  There was pasta!  That wasn't frozen!  There was REAL food, guys.  We even got desserts! It was marvellous....absolutely marvellous.  At the lunch, the principal also mentioned that he wanted to get us principal's List CLOTHING!  SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!  Free clothes?! GLADSTONE CLOTHING!

We...never got clothing.  But I guess that's OKAY....I GUESS.

Term three.

I didn't get on the Principal's List.

Guess what people on the Principal's List got?


GOLDEN MEDALS (bookmark, apparently...)

And....a breakfast and certificates, and the usual recognition assembly.

*stomps feet in annoyed frustration*


Grade 10, Term 1: honour roll (certificate)
Grade 10, Term 2: honour roll (certificate)
Grade 10, Term 3: honour roll (certificate)

Yes...every single term, I had P.E...and in every single term, my average was above 90%*, and I could never get an A in P.E.  The tragedy continues though....
*in some other school's, people get on Principal's List just by getting a 90% average!

Grade 11, Term 1: honour roll (certificate)
Grade 11, Term 2: honour roll (certificate)
Grade 11, Term 3: honour roll (certificate)

I didn't have P.E this year, so I thought....FINALLY, there's nothing stopping me from getting on the Principal's List. I WILL finally get my GLADSTONE PRINCIPAL'S LIST T-SHIRT AND GOLDEN BOOKMARK.  Unfortunately, chemistry had other plans for me.

I had a chemistry teacher...known for her difficult tests and quizzes.

Don't get me wrong, she was a fabulous teacher, she cared about her students, she tried to make the class fun....but matter how hard I tried (my mom even got me a tutor), I couldn't get an A.  Again, I had an average that was above 90%, but because of to say, I didn't get on the Principal's List in grade eleven either...this time, because of chemistry.

Grade 12, Term 1: honour roll (certificate) AND Principal's List (certificate AND breakfast)

And watch this guys....I can predict the future....

Grade 12, Term 2: honour roll (certificate)
Grade 12, Term 3: honour roll (certificate)


Kidding.  Don't cheer.  There's nothing to cheer about.

We got a new principal.  Our old one moved to....ANOTHER SCHOOL I WILL NOT MENTION.


There's no P.E.

There's no chemistry.

Principal's List status is MINE.

And it didn't feel like it.

There was no recognition assembly....
There was no golden bookmark...
There was no GLADSTONE T-shirt...
And the breakfast was at 7:30 in the morning.  I wake up at 7:55 in the morning. No breakfast is worth my precious sleep.  Besides, I heard the breakfast was simple.  Just some green eggs, a sausage, bacon, an orange.  hardly anyone showed up...probably because IT WAS SO BEEPING EARLY!

So...grade twelve.  I had to work hard in English because I decided to take an advance placement (university preparation) course.  I also had to work hard in math because....I was never really any good at math,  Literature was also somewhat harder than I expected...and I got a borderline A.

We all know that term one is as easy as it gets.  It'll only get harder from there....

So....this PRINCIPAL replaced our recognition assemblies with student forums. We haven't done that in years...*.  The picture taking was also supposed to happen after the breakfast, but my writing teacher took us on a field trip that day...couldn't make it.
*I was actually looking forward to the forum...a chance to voice my opinion on teachers who don't teach....too thin toilet paper...NO toilet paper....I could finally voice my opinion....JOY!  But....on that day, someone told me to shut up.  They told me that what I said didn't matter....and that no one cared.  I didn't go to the student forums.


After working so hard to get on the Principal's List...WAITING so long to finally get the chance to be on that coveted list....I.....there.....nothing.  No picture.  No breakfast.  No clothing.  No bookmark. No recognition.

Recognition assemblies were created for a reason....or so I'd like to believe, anyway,

They were created so that people would be encouraged and motivated to work hard.  To give someone a goal to strive for.  Something to...aspire to.

They take that away.....and.....

You know doesn't matter.

Who cares about trying anymore?

What's the point of all this anyway...?

Okay, granted....people should want to work hard because they WANT to...because they want to feel good about themselves....but...look at it from my perspective for a moment, okay?

They've been dangling this reward in my face, just out of reach for years now...the first time I get on the Principal's List, was the last time they only gave out a certificate.  And the (probably) last time I get on the Principal's List is the first time they go back to giving out nothing but an extra sheet of paper.


.....not fair.

The thought has occurred to me that people might think I'm taking things a little too seriously....and...maybe I am...but....I've wanted this for so long.  And it's not fair....not fair at all....that they should take it all away the moment I finally have the chance to get it.  It's.  Not. Fair.  Please, I want you, I desperately need you to...understand.

Understand my pain.  Understand my anger.  Understand the unfairness.  Understand the frustration.

I've talked to other people on the list...I thought we could drown in our miseries together....but....instead of a friend to share my misery with....I got....indifference.  I also got cruelty.

I got, "" in a cynical voice.

I got, "'s just a stupid medal and t-shirt, why are you so *beep*-ing materialistic?!"

I got, "...oh, give it a rest, no one cares about it..."

I got, "go away, I don't want to hear you complain about nothing."

I got, "I have bigger problems to deal with so just shut up."


....some friends, huh?  I don't need friends.

I cannot possibly tell you how upset I am.  I sincerely hope I have made some sense in this post.  I do NOT want people to think of me as..shallow, or dramatic, I just....I...I need someone to understand...someone I can talk to....without worrying that they will tell me to shut up or look at me in a way that makes me feel like what I say...doesn't matter.  Is that too much to ask of the world?


I'm starting to sound repeptive now, aren't I?

There was....a person I thought I could rant to.  A person...I thought who would always listen and support me...but...even (s)he has put me down once by telling me that I was think I've had enough of sharing my feelings with people.  I'll just bottle it all up.  It's  unhealthy, but...who cares, right?  No one.  Not that anyone cares, really.....but it gives me a certain kind of pleasure to type on these lousy school keyboards (which are really hard to press down on, and therefore, super tiring) until my fingers start to cramp....

Does my dumb mind really wonder anything?  
I'm not my mind actually inquisitive?  
I don't know...not that it matters.  
No one cares.  Nothing matters.

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