From Student to Conformist

Posted in Standards and EvaluationStudents on Nov 06, 2009 - 09:58 PM

Hi, my name is Claire Russell. I am a freshman at a mainstream public high school in rural Maine. I attended a "Waldorf-inspired" alternative school from the moment I walked into my first day of kindergarten, until the day I graduated from eighth grade last June.

I loved school. Every minute of it. There wasn't a day when I thought it was a drag to go to school. It was perfect for me. We learned to learn. My teachers taught to teach. We weren't tested, graded or analyzed. I had a second family of twenty-four kids my age and a teacher who probably knew me better than I knew myself at most times. The thought of leaving broke my heart a little every time I thought about graduation. It seemed almost surreal to me. I had known nothing else my whole life. But the inevitable day came when I stood up in front of the school community I loved so much and talked about my educational journey, something all graduates are asked to do. I remember afterward, standing next to my friend of nine years and putting my arm around him, I could feel him softly crying. We all knew perfectly well how lucky we were. And although the sadness was evident, we also knew this special school had taught us all it could. We were ready to move on.

On September 2nd, I found myself standing in the hallway of the big public high school in my town, not knowing a single soul, with only my faith to accompany me. It sure wasn't my old school. Within a couple of days, I had taken my first test, received my first grade, begun to understand how to function in a system governed by bells. Halfway through my first week I felt stressed and unsure. I was bombarded by tests and quizzes, overwhelmed by homework, trying to make new friends, trying to learn, trying not to freak out. It took all my willpower just to get up and go to school every day. It was exactly this mash of of confusion and frustration that drove me to write a piece that made all the difference.

It was late at night, I had been studying for a French test for way too long. I felt tired and sick of it. Finally, I threw my books aside and wrote the following few paragraphs:

I am ashamed to say that in just two short weeks I have gone from student to conformist. I move when the bell tells me to move, eat when the bell tells me to eat. I stand up and state my patriotism when the overhead intercom tells me to. I observe my country's flag just once a day, and only because I have to. I stand in line for twenty minutes to buy food that will make me unhealthy, and am required to buy a carton of milk, which I won't drink. I am walking the halls as a ghost filled with fears of detention, failing grades and pop quizzes. I am told what to wear, how to wear it and when it is appropriate. I am told quietly that as long as the work is in on time, I am OK. And if the work is late (no matter how good it is or how much time was spent doing it), I am a failure -- and I am kept after school to think about just that. I sit there, hating myself for my mistake, separated from my peers, feeling alone and wondering if the reason I'm here is that I have failed the system already? Or, has the system already failed me? My name is forgotten, and I take on the facade of an ID number and a GPA. I am placed into an honors/non-honors category, and segregation hurts. When placed into my category, I am silently told I am in my place now, and there is no need to move.

My new friends will never believe my stories of a school where there were no grades or tests, an independent school where I learned for the sake of learning and simply did my best. For the past nine years, I went to school in a safe, creative environment where it was not only acceptable, but valued and encouraged for us to state our opinions, no matter how bold. We were taught to seek our gifts, be ourselves, and to think. Isn't that how it should be for a young child full of dreams? Families should not have to pay for an education like mine.

I have come to a conclusion that just might save my education: I love learning. I don't love school. Whether they are the same -- that's for you to decide. I will not concede that they are remotely similar anymore for me. The time in my life where all that was expected of me was that I learned, and learned to love learning, is distant to me now but by no means vague. Tonight, I write from my heart. I realize that an F on a paper does not mean we are failures. I will not lose sight of where I came from and where I am to go. Where I came from: Education. Where I am going: A life of learning. In spite of what the system tells me and my peers: a grade will not define us.

I am happy to report that I was left feeling happy and empowered. I went to bed with those exact feelings in my heart and got a 107% on the test the next day. My mom and I sent the piece to our local news paper as a "letter to the editor" the next day. It was accepted, but in the end we pulled it and decided that maybe it could reach a wider audience. And it did. I am so glad and grateful for this opportunity to write about my experiences for IDEA.

And, it really is amazing to me what a little empowerment can do for a girl who's just starting high school. I won't ever let myself forget it.

Tags for this entry:
k-12 education, grades, behavior and consequences, conformity, failure, homework, waldorf, tracking


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Claire Russell

Claire Russell

Claire Russelll was born in rural, coastal Maine and has lived there for all her fifteen years of life. She happily attended a "Waldorf Inspired" alternative school from kindergarten to 8th grade. She chose to attend a mainstream public high school, where she is now a sophomore and making the often challenging transition from alternative schooling to mainstream public education.

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