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Worry About Us

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I was watching my local news channel the other morning. I had sat down to put my socks on before leaving for school and happened to glance up at the TV. It featured a female news broadcaster in some foreign land, interviewing the local people and taking a tour of their educational facilities. I only caught a few moments of that piece, but from what I could understand, they were attempting to shed some well-intentioned light upon the conditions of third-world countries. Plus the lack things like running water, indoor plumbing and grocery stores. Heck, they lack food in general. While I was watching this, I couldn't help but sigh just a little bit. Don't get me wrong - I most definitely feel for those less fortunate than me and have always been taught to be giving. But sometimes, I am obligated to feel just a little bit frustrated, because it seems like our country is so worried about fixing everyone else... that we have forgotten about ourselves.

My High School was built in 1962. There was one major rennovation done at least twenty years ago to add on some classrooms, and that is about the extent of upkeep we recieved. Yes, it's a small school, of about 550 kids from freshman to senior. But the building we are forced to spend a decent chunk of our lives in, is undeniably falling apart. And I've often stopped to wonder who really cares.

Two referendums have been voted down for a brand new building to be constructed. The people in our county do not want to pay the higher taxes that come with their children having a safe learning enviorment. Sad, I know. Take a walk through the place and you will see obvious signs of neglect everywhere you look. You could start in the girl's bathroom, whose stall doors must be held shut with your foot, lest you have an audience while peeing. Or maybe the wall in the North Hallway with the missing drywall. Every day I get to walk past a vast strip of warped steel, decorated with pretty yellow mold smeared like mustard stains. Something tells me that it's just not the most desirable thing to inhale. But then again, what do I know? Or, for a good time, you could take a stroll down main hall during a rainstorm. But be careful, you wouldn't want to trip over a stragetically placed bucket to catch the leaking roof-water.

So what may you ask, is the point of all this rambling? I know that there are places in this world that need help, and desperately at that. But isn't it possible, that while we help the world, we could maybe help ourselves as well? Because it's no fun to watch the girl in a wheelchair miss out on classes because the doorframes aren't wide enough to let her through.

So while people spend billions of dollars to fix other countries, me and my fellow classmates will continue learning somewhere that is not healthy, or safe. Call me wrong, call me right, I don't really care anymore. This problem is very real... trust me. I'm there every single day.

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