Science Class

Rocks and minerals all around me but I am not in a quarry. Books, almanacs and a large chalkboard are before me. I sit at a desk, a wooden black-topped desk with various carvings of "School sucks," "Kim loves Dave," and "Help Me" etched in it. The bottom of my desk is a colorful array of gum stuck by generations of Danbury High students. I look around and I see myself as helpless as all the other kids stare blankly into space for the answer.

The Football Field

The grass glows green and the leaves jump from the trees. The white football lines contour the rolling field. The gum wrapper stepped on so many times has been embedded into the grass. The Adidas jacket loosely lies on the steel bench, the heavy backpack must be placed on it so that the wind does not carry it off into oblivion. The wind sweeps by my hair in a gentle massage as I sit and watch sweaty men run around a field with a pigskin under their arm hootin' and hollerin' as they love to do.

The Principal's Office

Sit down, have a seat. Talk to me. Where have you been and why have they brought you here to me? Again. I look up, staring coldly into his eyes. His office reeking with the smell of potpourri and hung oh-just-so inspirational posters.

The Lunch Line

Herded off like cattle, the noise level becomes a steady blur of a thousand voices talking together. To enter the line is to push or be pushed. Choices - not many, which one will make me barf the least? The ordeal of waiting to receive the food is ten times easier than paying for the food. After spending half my precious lunch time waiting to pay for food, I am greeted by "What's your number?" a cafeteria woman robed in a green smock smiling strangely at me (because she truly knows what's in my lunch). Number! What is a number?

I am a person. I have a name: I refuse to

be a number. c