High School, I don't miss this. #WRT3 #twitterive #6wordstory
Visiting my cousins’ high school, Gateway, this week was something that I viewed as quite strange for me. I haven’t been to a high school for over five years; revisiting one was almost like retracing my footsteps in a strange place that I’ve never been to. The school was totally different from the high school I went to but also totally the same.
The building layout was quite pristine. Having white and red brick with a blue roof, showing the schools colors. My high school in West Deptford was mostly one floor, except for two entrances that led to a cramped upstairs hallway. The brick on the outside of my high school was all red, showing no school colors. These were some of the ways in which the schools differed, but in some ways they were still the same; filled with young teens.
Seeing all the younger kids walk around school grounds did not enact a flashback of my high school days as I thought it would. Instead it caused a feeling of unfamiliarity, watching a group of kids pass by my car as I sat parked out front waiting made me realize how out of place I was. There were teachers or aids in coats scattered through out the parking lot. I had no idea what that was about, maybe it was a new rule, to make sure the kids got on the buses safe? I couldn’t think of any other reason. Looking out the window to my left I noticed some of the kids were looking at me in astonishment. Probably thinking “Isn’t that guy a little too old to be at a high school?” this caused me to grow impatient. I immediately pulled out my phone, calling my cousin and telling him to hurry up so I can go on with my day. That day I realized how everything had changed and high schools were no longer what I thought they were.
This is a bit different then what Wendell Berry wrote about in “Native Hill”. Berry’s account seemed to be about the connection we have with certain aspects of our world. Almost the exact opposite of what I stated above. Although there were certain things that rang out to be true in Berry’s writing. It seemed that he wanted to make us think about things that were once present in our past are no longer here and gone forever. That’s what going to a high school made me realize about myself, that little kid getting on the bus, that will never be me ever again.
Visiting my cousins’ high school, Gateway, this week was something that I viewed as quite strange for me. I haven’t been to a high school for over five years; revisiting one was almost like retracing my footsteps in a strange place that I’ve never been to. The school was totally different from the high school I went to but also totally the same.
The building layout was quite pristine. Having white and red brick with a blue roof, showing the schools colors. My high school in West Deptford was mostly one floor, except for two entrances that led to a cramped upstairs hallway. The brick on the outside of my high school was all red, showing no school colors. These were some of the ways in which the schools differed, but in some ways they were still the same; filled with young teens.
Seeing all the younger kids walk around school grounds did not enact a flashback of my high school days as I thought it would. Instead it caused a feeling of unfamiliarity, watching a group of kids pass by my car as I sat parked out front waiting made me realize how out of place I was. There were teachers or aids in coats scattered through out the parking lot. I had no idea what that was about, maybe it was a new rule, to make sure the kids got on the buses safe? I couldn’t think of any other reason. Looking out the window to my left I noticed some of the kids were looking at me in astonishment. Probably thinking “Isn’t that guy a little too old to be at a high school?” this caused me to grow impatient. I immediately pulled out my phone, calling my cousin and telling him to hurry up so I can go on with my day. That day I realized how everything had changed and high schools were no longer what I thought they were.
This is a bit different then what Wendell Berry wrote about in “Native Hill”. Berry’s account seemed to be about the connection we have with certain aspects of our world. Almost the exact opposite of what I stated above. Although there were certain things that rang out to be true in Berry’s writing. It seemed that he wanted to make us think about things that were once present in our past are no longer here and gone forever. That’s what going to a high school made me realize about myself, that little kid getting on the bus, that will never be me ever again.