All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
I walk through the doors, losing my free liberties, but forced to learn about them
I walk down halls which entice me, locking me inside the building.
I walk for days at time in my dreams, searching for something greater.
I must ask before I use the bathroom, ask before I share ideas
I must eat in an allotted time, walk fast enough for their liking, and comprehend seven different matters of the world in one day
I must not question authority, simply abide by their rules.
I must follow their examples, but not ask for the same freedoms.
I must pass their exams, their proof of education.
I cannot express my creativity nor individuality, for they have already passed out the guidelines.
I cannot ask for another day to complete the science assignment, even if I had to stay up until dawn the study for the math test, which will determine my future.
I cannot change the font of my english essay, even if times new roman makes my eyes bleed.
I cannot round the numbers off to two decimal places, even if my calculator exploded and won't tell me the answer
I cannot ask why the president of the social justice movement looked like a girl, that would be disrespectful.
I cannot mix two random substances and create a cure for cancer, for they are locked up because of people like me.
I am begging for something new to learn about, something that captures my heart.
I am searching for an outlet for my creative veins, my imagination.
I am losing my inner child, the person who tells me it's okay to have fun and color outside the lines.
I am competing with six billion other teenagers across the world, praying I have enough knowledge stuffed inside me.
I am no longer me.
I am an american student.