Through My Own Eyes

High school is jail sentence. You are stuck taking classes you may never need again, you need community service to get away from here, and you have to be there five days a week. You’re surrounded by two-faced people, psychotic killers, jail wardens, and then you have the innocents.

We all have four years in this prison. Each person deals with the preesure of getting out. Some get out earlier because they can’t handle the pressure. These prisoners are the ones who transfer to a different pridon with less rules and boundaries. Others decide to take their own lives. Many decide to push people so far that they want to see them take their own lives.

The jail wardens are the stronger and much more popular students who think they control every aspect of the jail. They push the psychotic killers too far and they push sround the innocents who don’t deserve the jail sentence. Many use the two-faced inmates to their advantage to gain information to push down the other inmates. No one likes the wardens, but the two-faced inmates love using them expecting to gain more respect.

The cops are he teachers, but sometimes they appear to be on a sentence just as long as ours. You do have the teachers that enforce the law on us, but let the wardens get away with things we inmates would get beaten for. The other teachers are here on the same sentence as us, but others may be here longer for reasons unknown.

Teens act like they know everything. They don’t listen to teachers, they don’t listen to parents, and trying to have them listen to their friends is a joke. I’m consistently surrounded by teenagers who think they know everything. I bet that if they were thrown on the street with no phone, no money, and in a place they knew nothing about, they would be lost and confused.

Most teens believe that once they graduate high schol, they’ll be indestructible, many believe they’ll be millionaires. Many won’t go to college, but some will to get successful jobs. Some seem satisfied with working at Mc. Donald’s saying, “Welcome to Mc. Donald’s! May I take your order?”

Every day since I entered this school I have felt I have been judged nonstop. The people I have met and the people I have passed in the hall make a difference every day, but none of them realize that they are.  I started off trying to get through my life without one single thing trying to eat me up inside. I have learned that if you are searching for answers that sometimes you just have to let the answers come to you. I always wanted to know why coaches wanted me on different teams, but they would never play me. Teachers wanted me for different clubs, but then later on they wouldn’t ask me why I didn’t join. These wondering thoughts lead me to believe that maybe they just see some kid who doesn’t have much to live for except grades. I’ve made sports teams ever since I was in the fifth grade and I could play for my grade school. I always played, but I was never told once by my coaches that they appreciated how much I put into the game. The other kids around me would get appreciated, but I wouldn’t get recognized. I go back to the gym I played basketball in ever since I was in kindergarten and my old coaches don’t bother on asking me how my basketball season is or what team I made. I will never forget the day I was told that an old team mate made varsity basketball their freshman year at an opposing high school.

I scoffed and told my friend standing beside me, “Why is it someone who has played club and doesn’t know much about a sport makes a team that no freshman deserves to play on, but another person can just play very little of the sport organized with other players and knows more about the sport and gets on a team that any freshman would be lucky to make.”

My friend looked at me and didn’t know how to answer me, but I could tell on her face that she was thinking the same thing. The girl who made that varsity team didn’t get much playing time and now that I look back I see the true reason on why they put her on the varsity team that didn’t have a very good record and she was barely played the entire season. No matter how many times her family tried playing off on how she played and how good she was, I never really saw how they distinguished the good from bad players. I guess they saw bad players as the ones who were good shooters and passed the ball to the ENTIRE team, but didn’t get the ball much themselves. The good players were the ones who always kept the ball to themselves and ALWAYS passed to either their friends or to the worst person on the team. I never understood how whenever I got the ball and didn’t pass to a certain person I got yelled at by the coach and was called a “ball hog.”

If there is one thing I have learned from the people I have met is this: “Never let the ones behind you bring you down, always let the ones in front of you bring you up, and let the ones that fulfill your present follow you to the future.”