Thanks to all of my wonderful blog readers, without whom I would never have reached 4000 blog views!

It means a lot!





Second Semester Schedule Change Rant

There’s a new schedule that the administration is going to implement this semester. In this rant, I am going to bring up many points and arguments debating the change.

For one, the student body is not being represented in their process. What I mean is, in order for something to be done that will better the student body as a whole, a wide variety of students out of the student body need to be represented. A council including people from all grades, social statuses, family situations, grade standings, and cultural backgrounds should be at the meetings that the staff are having. There needs to be diversity.

The staff cannot base its “intervention”, if you will, solely on the fact that students are doing worse than they have in previous years. It may be true that there are more people with bad grades, but there are lots of things that factor into a student’s grade output.

Things like home life, difficulty of the students’ classes, the way a teacher teaches (or doesn’t teach), the amount of homework a student has, the amount of effort a student is willing to put in to their schoolwork, what activities if any that the student participates in, if the student cares or not about school, and peer pressure are all factors that determine the output of a student. I’m sure that is only a fraction of what I could have listed.

Think also that, perhaps, the staff/faculty members have something to do with the output of the student body’s grades. There are teachers in this school system that need to either fix the way that they teach so that less and less people fail, or they need to stop teaching. Some may even need to be fired. I’m not saying that I want teachers to be fired, but if the teacher is going to sit in a classroom and stare at the students as they try to work but fail because the teacher has not taught the material and probably never will, then you need to get with the program or get out. One of my friends even went in for extra help and her teacher said to “Look it up on the internet.” I believe that the teacher should have offered extra learning opportunities to my friend instead of telling her to turn to the Internet. She had no idea even what to search for and the teacher then said that she was “Busy and could no longer help [her]”.  The teachers that do not teach their students are being paid to do nothing.  I would be furious if I knew that my employees were affecting my output in such a negative way. Their lack of teaching is translating to a lack of a capable workforce in the future. Today’s students are tomorrow’s future. And they are promoting the decline of intelligence! Then, they blame the failure of the students on our work ethic. Perhaps they should be looking at their own work ethic.

To give another example, I, having been a student at HHS for two years, have had a number of teachers that did not seem to care about whether or not a student did his or her homework and classwork. One of my teachers was gone at least once a week, every week. This teacher would then return to school and think that he/she could hand us a quiz and expect us to know the information. As a class, we all turned it in blank. That may not have been the most studious thing to do, but otherwise we would have failed. We did not know the information and therefore were not prepared to take a test over information we had never learned. Where is the reformation for the way the teachers teach?

A third and final example is one of my teachers currently. This teacher gives homework on nights he/she knows students cannot get it done, like during away basketball games and swim meets. Then, the next day, when a student comes in to class with their homework incomplete, this teacher begins a lecture on the importance of getting homework done that lasts the entire class period. I’m sorry. You can chew us out for not doing our homework, but that’s not going to make us do it. And you don’t have to make it last the whole class period. Maybe make it a five-minute ordeal, and then move on to teaching us valuable skills. The teacher’s solution for this problem next semester is to have us write ten pages over each chapter. How is that an effective solution? People are still going to fail to do their homework. Some students could care less about their grades. (Which I believe is sad. We have one job as teenagers, and that is to set ourselves up to be as successful as possible for our futures. Bad grades are hard to overlook when applying to colleges, and nowadays, if you do not go to college, you will most likely be overlooked when applying for that job you really wanted. “Dang it, I needed a degree? But my grades were so bad in high school that no college would accept me.” Sad day.) Some people were not taught when they were young that college was important, and that high school is like a stairway to your future.

It is true that sometimes administrators sit in on classes, but where are they when the teachers are doing a bad job? The teachers know when Mr. Opperman or Mr. Szlanda is going to sit in the room and observe the class. This seems silly. The visits should be random and more often, in my opinion. That way, the administrators can observe how the teacher really teaches, and not just see their planned-out one-time lecture that will only last the one period they are observed. This would be more effective.

Teachers should be passionate about what they do, and most are. But it only takes one bad teacher to make your whole day go down the drain.

Some students need extra help. Whether that means that they need a study hall or not, there is going to be opposition to any proposition that the administrators and staff have. Some kids, no matter how hard one may try to help him or her, will never have the desire to do better. Some kids do not see the value in our education.

Blame for this could be put on uninspired teachers, but also on uninspired kids. Kids should believe that what they are learning about has some type of value, whether it is for the future or for the next test. But sometimes it is hard to do that when teachers give lectures that aren’t interesting or are off topic. How can a student learn from or see value in that?

Teachers are being paid for what they teach. Whether students benefit from their teachings or not is only monitored by things like tests and state standards. When a student does amazing on the homework but horribly on the test, how does that accurately measure what the student does or does not know? If the student actively participates in class yet flunks a major quiz, how does that reflect that the student participates?

There are only so many hours in a day and some kids do not know how to time manage, nor do they care to start trying to. People think they can time manage after school, but sometimes get sidetracked with the excess amount of technology available to them. People decide to pay attention to their iPods or Facebook accounts rather than doing schoolwork.

 Technology also has a lot to do with the fact that students are not getting their homework done.  Computers are a blessing to have. However, they can also be a curse. Instead of doing homework, kids will divert to other things like social media and other distracting games or websites. I am not saying, however, that all social media and games should be banned from our computers when we are at home. I am just saying that kids are easily distracted. I can say that it is hard for me to do serious homework when I know that I could be chatting with my friends or playing Cookie Clicker.

Before you rethink the schedule, rethink the method. Think about the efficiency and percentage of the information taught in class that really soaks in to a student’s brain. Rethink the teachers, not just the students. It’s not simply our faults. Rethink the atmosphere of the school. Are we showing enough school spirit? To me, it seems that we aren’t as enthusiastic and excited about our activities as we should be.

A small amount of students attend the Girls’ Basketball games, but everyone attends the Boys’ Varsity ones. That doesn’t make sense. No one goes to swim or cross-country meets, but volleyball receives a lot of support. Everyone has a focus on football, and when we lose, we become angry and we talk bad about the team. The soccer girls and boys go to state soccer every year and a lot of people go out and support the soccer teams, which is great! However, a significantly smaller percentage of people come support Marching Band, debate, track, and the numerous other activities at HHS. Maybe it is because they are uninformed when and where the other activities are competing, but I feel a lack of support towards the lesser-popular sports and activities. A lot of the glory goes to sports like wrestling, volleyball, football, and basketball. If we showed more pride to other activities, then maybe people would be proud of their activities and would feel appreciated. People are focusing on petty little issues within the sports and activities when they really should be focusing on the fact that people are trying. Winning isn’t everything. We need to show pride in our school, and maybe that will translate to pride in our grades. I don’t know, call me crazy, but that could fix a lot of problems within our school.

Whatever the staff at Hastings High has planned for the upcoming semester, if it is a block schedule or shortened classes with an added study hall, it will hopefully benefit us as a student body.

Thank you,

Lindsey LaBrie

Class of 2016 

The Playground

The Playground

  When I first saw the playground from afar, I realized how exciting it was. It was so beautiful and shiny. The slide was so tall! The sandboxes so deep! A child’s paradise! Oh how I wanted to set foot on that playground! I saw it, and I knew, I just knew, that I would claim it as mine someday.

I craved this playground because of the joy it brought to me in my dreams. I dreamt of this playground many nights. The dreams were usually vivid and I could remember them after waking up.

In one of my dreams, I grabbed on to the sparkly surface of the monkey bars and I just hung there, without a care in the world. I enjoyed the feeling of blood rushing to my head after hanging upside-down for a while. I always went to the monkey bars on the playground in my dreams. I could’ve stayed on them forever, in that state of bliss and carelessness.

I never thought enough of myself to come close to it though. It was so beautiful, all I needed to do was see it, and I was happy. I wanted to set foot in the playground, but I was too afraid of what might happen if I did. I could fall from the slide or slip from the monkey bars and break my arm. I thought that maybe one day I’d overcome my fear.

That one day did come. A force greater than all other forces pulled me towards the playground. As I came close to it, I saw an opportunity to take in its grandeur. I only looked at it from beyond the fence. It tantalized my senses. I could imagine myself running up to the monkey bars and feeling their cool, polished surface. I wished for more, but it was late and I had to return home before dark.

I ran all the way from the playground to home, thinking all the while about those monkey bars.

The next day, I decided to go back. I was going to play on the playground, finally!

I ran faster and smiled wider when I saw the luster from afar. The sight of the playground filled me to the brim with such awe! It was beautiful! Every surface was so shiny and bright!

But suddenly, I stopped. I stopped because I was up close and I could see everything with greater detail. My heart dropped. It was as if an earthquake trembled through my chest. A tear rolled down my cheek. The wind whipped my hair around my head, and the whole atmosphere in the playground was shifting. My smile quickly faded and I had to stop myself from screaming.

I cursed at the wind and at myself.

The bars were so dilapidated! Every bar that wasn’t hanging on by a limp weld had fallen off. I went up to the resting place. To the victims of oxidation and time. It felt like a graveyard, a war zone. I picked up one of the sad bars and ran my fingers along its rusty, chipped surface. It left a dirty stinging cut on my finger.

It was far too sad to be true.

I looked up, just as a final hope that I was seeing something different from reality. However, what I was seeing was the truth.

I could see the shadow of the play set looming over me like a phantom. Faint and ominous children’s laughter was echoing through the wind. The basketball hoops were devoid of their nets, the swing sets swaying as if being propelled by ghosts. The slide and its once slick surface was now a defeated, defaced, and mangled piece of plastic. It was cracked in half and was barely held together. The graffiti sprayed over its once shiny shell did more than enough to tell me that this place was no longer welcoming. The sandbox looked weary. It was devoid of its white, beach-like sand. The only things that were left inside its four wooden walls were sand burrs, rocks, and trash.

I was shocked. Could it really be? Was I completely ignorant to the real world? Did this really look like a paradise to me? A place where children could play, could pretend? Did I really see this place as awe-inspiring?

I looked around again. What I saw was not like my dream at all.

No. There were no shiny surfaces. In fact, the only thing shining was the sun. Even the sun did not inspire me. It did not fill me with hope.

Inside, I cursed myself for being so foolish. Things like this were always too good to be true. I silently cried out, “Why?”, but the wind was the only one to hear me.

This was not at all what I had dreamt.

I was so infuriated that I took the rung that was in my hand and threw it as far away as I could. I sat down, defeated, like a child throwing a temper tantrum.

I sat in sadness a while. I recalled the amazing things that once happened in this playground. The laughter, the love, the recess, the friendships that must have formed. From that, I found enough strength to stand up. I ran home, angry at myself for believing that this playground would be as amazing as it was in my dreams. The playground doesn’t exist in the same state as it used to.

The school next to it has been abandoned for years. What led me to believe that the playground would be any different?

The epiphany stung me like a wasp;

Too long has it sat in disrepair to be mended to its original and glorious state. For it I would cry, if that weren’t so true. No more children will find repose or laughter in that fenced in once-heaven. To follow their dreams to that hell would only bring them defeat and sadness.

Follow the mirage of luster like a moth and you will find yourself burned. If you happen to get burned, remember that there are always remedies for pain. Always remember yourself and what brings you true happiness, so that when you find that your playground is not as it seemed, you will have yourself.

The Riddler Has Escaped Again

Yes, believe it or not, the Riddler has escaped from Arkham Asylum again and has hacked my WordPress account only to make a poem. Mawhaha!


A Riddle of Riddles

A riddle of riddles is a riddle of this,

If you’re not careful, vital parts you’ll miss.

Jump 3 to the north and 3 to the east,

If you don’t notice, you’ll laugh, at least.

I sat in the corner like a mouse of dust,

as my mind began to riddle, it must!

It must

It might

It shall 

It may

That my short riddle is told today.

A riddle of sorts, but really, not quite,

but if the dark does give you a fright,

then flush out the curious cat in the room

and the elephant’s fate is one of doom.

Woa to the ignorant child’s faint cries,

for every night, someone’s dream dies.

A dream

A life 

Almost the same,

and if not known, don’t show your shame.

A riddle of riddles is a riddle of mine,

it must not be told in one single line.

So here I stand and here I lay,

and kids do come up here to play.

A place soft and warm and inviting to you,

a place short of many a shoe.

I’ll give you a hint and one at that,

Otherwise this riddle is merely flat,

A monkey can’t jump due to doctors orders,

because otherwise, you’d cross all the boarders.

You think you’ve got it, you do, you do?

Then give me the word and I’ll let you through.

To the other side?

Past the river Styx?

You’ll never know lest you count to six.

So this riddle of mine is confusing to you?

I’m pleased to announce I’m done and through.

So goodnight Gotham City, Batman and all,

because right now you feel so small.

Small because you’ve played sadly your fiddle,

and ha! you cannot figure my riddle!


¿The Riddler?


Dreams… Crushed (Well Sorta)

A long time ago I was searching for a weekly poem. I stumbled upon a site called poem.com and I saw that they were having a poetry contest. “Why not?” I had thought and posted “The Seed”. (See my weekly poems category and look up The Seed) So yesterday, I asked mom if I got any mail. Guess who it was from? Poem.com telling me that I was one of their finalists and that I get my poem published in a real book. A real book that real people would read. I also have a chance to win “one of many prizes”. So I looked this sight up on google to see if it was a reliable and legit competition that I had won. It turns out that practically everyone who enters a poem gets sent a letter like I did. So guess what? I’m pretty sure it’s fake. So thanks for ruining my dreams of getting my poems published in a real book Poem.com. You guys suck. I’m sending in the form anyway, there’s just no money. You guts don’t get my money. I fricken gave you my poem for free! When “Stars of our Hearts” is published, I’m going to march into Barnes and Noble and see for myself if I was scammed or not. So in March, we’ll see. We’ll all see.

From the annoyed constructor of this sight,
LinLaB7 :/