If I could paint a picture of the students in school, the image would capture not names but situations:
Mentally abused, physically abused,
suicidal, social outcasts,
drowning in schoolwork and combusting families,
counting the old scars and the new scars on the wrist,
pregnant, self-destructive, anxious,
poor, crying, depressed,
was college-bound but broke the bridge to the football scholarship,
addicted, alone, autistic, so hopeless that opportunities only kill, not good enough for class or relationships or life itself,
Struggling to be perfect.

With the thunderous voice that claps on our backs, with everyone breathing heavy pascals of pressure down our necks, we can only be tempted by the slivers of moonlight outside of the caged window of the dreary dungeon.

We sell our souls to the devil, not the one in Hell but the one that controls our every move with the strings from the fingers of a puppeteer.

But we are not telling you that we do not need you, that we understand everything, because we don’t. We indirectly beg for you to give us your input, not for you to suffocate us and shove us into quicksand.

And we are so intimidated by “perform well to be accepted”, “ace everything or disappoint”, “colleges look at everything you do”, “you must earn this money for success”, “if you don’t get in, you’re a failure”, “do this, do that, do this, don’t do that” that our faces hold permanent smiles of submission that rob the passion from our beating hearts.

They ask us why we want to pursue this degree and it’s because we think we are proficiently skilled at it, NOT because the thought of spending every day with that degree and that occupation shakes our hearts to the very core and shocks our brains with excitement and fascination and captivation.

So we keep telling them that we are not good enough.

But test after test after test after test after test AFTER TEST…

We are trying.

We are scared and confused, just trying not to slip in the crevices of the fears coming out of the boulders with shadows grasping at our ankles, at our thighs, at our stomachs, at our chests, at our necks, and at our heads.

Six AP classes with six sports and six clubs, to apply to six schools in question, to work at six hundred scholarships for six thousand dollars, to defray the cost of a tuition that exceeds the six parcels of sanity and the six-six-six of expenses themselves.

“There is no way you can do it.”

We are trying.

I am applying to colleges and scholarships and grants;
These ladders of success seek to measure our self-worth with GPA, class size, class rank, class percentage, SAT score, ACT score, family income, AP credits, with 50-word limit, with A-F, with question that interrogates that which we cannot explain,

We cannot answer “Why do you want to go to Rice University?” for we do not know, we have not been there yet,
And eligibility should not come from 2.5 GPA, 250 out of 500 class rank, 50% class percentage, 400 out of 500 school rank in the state of Pennsylvania, 1530 SAT, 20 ACT, 0 AP credits; we do not fit in 50 words, in A-F, 6 sentences, in “sorry, try again,” only 1-10 characters from a-z,

We are h-u-m-a-n, p-e-o-p-l-e; we have e-m-o-t-i-o-n-s; we are w-o-r-t-h-y; we are n-o-t  n-u-m-b-e-r-s…

That’s 35 characters and counting.

I do not want to be a doctor, I do not want to be an engineer, I do not want to be a lawyer, a government official, a graphic designer, a computer technician, a nurse, the President of the United States.

I want to rest my hands on the fret board of my guitar, I want to feel the sounds of beautiful symphonies pulse through my veins, I want to watch the black and white lines and notes dance across the page.

If I could paint a picture of our desires in this complex world, the image would be blank and white.

Do not taint our new canvas with old acrylics; I want watercolor,
Do not label us with the A, B, C, D, or F that phonetically spell “ABiCaDeF,” which makes no sense and is highly irrelevant,
Do not force traditional techniques into our hands; we are not a lost generation,
Let us live our lives in peace.