"And I Thought My Jokes Were Bad"

Hello again! It has been a while since I've blogged, but don't worry, this time it will strictly be creative pieces and not notes from novels on how to write. I am excited to begin, so I'm just going to get write down to it. A creative prompt challenged me to write something beginning with "The greatest tragedy is __________," so I will take that challenge and see what comes out....It's been a while so I'm a little rusty. Wish me luck! (and we'll be ending our session of "too many cliches" for the night, thank you).

The greatest tragedy is high school, no question. In the event that you may not remember high school, or you remember it so you think it’s the same as when you attended, let me tell you what it’s really like. There are two kinds of students now, survivors and victims. Those who are victims are allegedly pitiful, but I see them as my friends, my comrades in arms, my soul mates. They find beauty in the art of education, the many things one can gain from (appropriate) relationships with teachers, the value of homework, and the development of the mind and personality that occurs due to hard work and dedication. I know, I lost you a couple sentences ago, and don’t worry, I’m sure you don’t know anyone like that. However, I feel obligated to inform you that a lot of students feel like that. There are always those kids who hide what they think, and their appreciation for the school, simply because it isn’t cool. Gratitude does not make you a survivor. When I say victims, I don’t necessarily mean victims to the vultures of high school. I mean we are victims to our own way of thinking, our way of life. We take a lot from other students, yes, but we also have the perception to understand why they are doing it.

            To be a survivor, one has to understand the value of style, social life, and extra curricular activities. Believe it or not, the more you do after and before school, the more of a survivor you become. High school is no longer about academic standing or simply football and cheerleading, oh no…it’s something much bigger than that. The famous cliques are those who are in the student senate, religious groups, every sport possible, any kind of drama involvement, and community service. If you find that you have no time to do any of your homework, you know you’re a survivor, you’re accepted; you’re what high school is all about. 

            Though it may appear that my tone is somewhat…hmm…critical or even judgmental, I really do not mean to pass it off like that. No, I take that back. The greatest tragedy is high school. You know, I think we all really are victims. We fight our own insecurities constantly. I look at the president of the senior class and I think to myself, “Do you really have it all sorted out? Your hair is much longer than mine, your eyes are much bigger, and your waist is certainly much smaller, but does that mean that you don’t need a smile from someone at random just to make you feel like it’s going to be okay?”

I know that answer. I’ve always known the answer. I am a victim among victims, prey to our own worries, responsibilities, and desires. I strive among the striving, I thrive among the thriving, yet still I easily sort out the victims from the survivors. I am a survivor. So is she. She did what I couldn’t, yet I loved as she couldn’t. There I go again, separating us.

            The greatest tragedy is high school. We separate what we will, we judge what we will, we hurt what we will, not knowing yet that what we do really does define us. What I love, what I write, what I read, what I see, what I hear, whatever has ever touched any part of my life no matter how small or insignificant, has come to define me. Does this make me like everyone else? Do I want to be like everyone else?

            The greatest tragedy is high school. For anyone who has had to go through without someone to relate to or tell their silly thoughts to, for anyone who has had so many friends that they just can’t find enough time to spare for all of them, for the prettiest girl in the school and the nerdiest boy in the school, for the girl hidden under too many pounds to feel beautiful to the boy hidden inside too many lockers to feel like he can hold his boyfriend’s hand, high school is a tragedy. Yet we survive, strong victims, unwilling to break. And that is the beauty of our youth.

There you have it...my first returning blog. Thanks for reading and remember to keep writing!!