You Bring Out the School in Me

(A response to Sandra Cisneros' Heritage poem)

 

You bring out the perfectionist in me.

The anxiety in me.

The depression in me.

The staying up all night to finish a project in me.

The looking in the mirror and hating what I see in me.

You are the reason I spent my summer locked in my room doing homework instead of being with my friends. 

You are the one I allow to make decisions for me.

Where I go.

Who I become.

How much I'm worth.

 

You.

 

You bring out the National Honors Society student in me.

The bright-eyed freshman in me.

The hopeful sophomore in me.

The tired junior in me.

The overworked senior in me.

The “I'm too tired to care about my grades but too scared of failure to stop caring” in me.

The socially awkward 17 year old in me.

The forgetting to eat because I was stressing over a massive test in me.

The eating too much because I was never taught to deal with emotions in me.

The comparing my worth to a grade in a class in me.

The never being good enough in me.

The suicidal ideation in me.

The fear of being shot in a classroom in me.

Yes, you do.

 

You bring out the existential dread in me.

The sloppy handwriting in me.

The waves of stress in me.

The 12 point, Times New Roman font in me.

The 10 page essay at 2 in the morning in me.

The trying to choke down school lunches everyday for 4 years in me.

The watching my friends leave as they graduate in me.

The crying during a chemistry test because I swear I’ve never seen this before in me.

The begging to let me retake the final I just failed in me.

The panic attack after panic attack in me.

You are everything that I am supposed to be,

Yet everything I can never be.

You fail to teach me how to fly,

And still, you push me out of the nest.

You show me that I am only as good as I behave, 

And that a number on the top of my test shows how much I'm worth.

You try and teach me how to succeed,

But now it's my turn to educate you.

Standardized tests are not helpful.

Most students have mental health issues.

We are trying our best.

Telling us something that you have been studying for years is easy,

Makes us hate ourselves.

 

You say students are lazy.

I say students are tired of poor education.

Students are tired of crying themselves to sleep at night.

Students are tired of not being prepared for life after public school.

You bring out the anger in me.

You bring out the hatred in me.

You bring out the “I'm going to do better than you” in me.

You bring out the school in me.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
My country
Our world

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