January Shenanigans: Teaching Trendy

Image: 42, a Creative Commons Attribution (2.0) image from tourist_on_earth's Photostream

Day 1 of January Shenanigans begins with some early practice for a Creative Nonfiction class that I'm taking this semester. It's something I mused on about before, but this piece was fun to put together, making it short, simple, and...well creative.


    “Know thyself,” A brother once told me. “Embrace yourself.”
 
    Those were the hardest things that I have ever done in my life. All the teachers from high school past were all, “Be hip and cool”. This gave the impression that life is a game about selling yourself as one would with Hollister sweatshirts. All to say that I was a cool magnet, sacrificing my love of science fiction for the sake of reputation at the price of $59.50.
 
    I didn’t enjoy this journey. I was being pulled into high school drama that I really had nothing to do with. If that’s what it takes to play with the cool kids, then why did they want me to make the effort in the first place?
 
    All my family and I ever wanted was for me to get my education then climb up the mountains of higher education. Of course, I did graduate with something and now I’m treading on that rocky pathway that many call university.
 
    That’s not the point. It all goes back to what my comrade said.
 
    “If you can’t do neither,” She said. “Then you’ll do jack squat the rest of your life.”
 
    And that was the problem, it was all about reputation back then. But what did it actually do? Hanging out at the cool table was not worthy for any resume, much less someone’s life.
 
    This I learned the hard way after I looked back at the place, in the cap and gown that would liberate me from unnecessary tasks. While there were the heroes, tutors and fellow students, there were the proctors prompting trends. One guy lashed out because I said something that everybody else agreed with.
 
    That’s when I learned the most important lesson. Not just about knowing and embracing myself, but the fact that reality is too big for trendy to work. That’s when I sighed, telling myself what a relief it was to finally stand on my own two feet.
 
    And because of that, I actually have friends now, not to mention an old sweater for sale. 

Flash Fiction: Golden Years

             Two janitors walked down an empty school hall. Dim lights illuminated the hallway at the doors to desolate classrooms. Just only a week ago, the school was filled with children running about and teachers attempting to teach them, even through the childhood squabbles.

            The custodians were cleaning up the last remnants of papers scattered around. One of them, sweeping some study guide scraps and construction paper, kept glancing at a photo. It was a band picture, embossed in vintage shades of brown and black; the band of nineteen-fifty-something.

            “Hurry it up,” The other custodian said. “Lockdown’s comin’ fast.”

            His partner just nodded and muttered an, “I know.”

            It was hard to let go of the fact that the local board of education had voted in favor for the school’s shutdown. It served as a foundation for the community in the face of adversity and misbehavior during school hours. It also was the home for local recreation programs after school; some of the town’s best athletes started out from there.

            Problem was that in this day and age, with lightheaded politicians and an ever-growing population, it became more a sardine can. It was just reeking of small fish crammed in small classrooms. The politics behind it also smelled foul, but that was always wafted into the air by a fling of, “Nothing to see here.”

            “Johnny,” The custodian said. “We’ve got no time for sightseein’.”

            “Yes, I know,” Johnny replied. “But aren’t you going to miss this place?”

            “What’s there to miss? It’s just work.”

            “Says the guy from out-of-state.”

            “Ugh! Why would you wanna remember a place like this? It’s just poop and papers, that’s all we do.”

            Johnny sighed, “If you had kids here, you’d understand. We had some of the best teachers back in the day. Even the politics wasn’t that bad, and you could speak your mind at the meetings.”

            The custodian continued to sweep, taking papers down from nearby bulletin boards. Children’s drawings and notices for nearby classes were easily thrown into that portable trashcan he pulled around.

             “It was like a dream come true…almost anyway,” Johnny continued.

For Flash Fiction Project: Prompt 37

Also, the piece was inspired based on local events; slightly exaggerated since I grew up in the education system and attended the mentioned school for about a year.