Today is the last day of the half-term break, and tomorrow it’s back to the grind again. I actually feel quite relaxed and ‘settled’ and do sort of look forward to it, although I have to do the obligatory protest about the ending of these free days at school. I might be kicked out of the Teen Club if I don’t.
Apart from mum and dad ringing me to push me to excel, I feel settled in my mind about gearing down and just cruising for now.
It feels like that will give me more time to actually enjoy the process, rather than keep snapping into focus to achieve some tangible end. I’ll read more, worry less, think deeper, and other platitudes you can think of.
Also, I can stop thinking about what the teachers want from me in order to get ahead, and start to think more freely and independently about things. The sad thing is that while my school isn’t the sausage stuffing kind of school that many sixth forms are, the syllabus is quite condensed and aligned to fit the tests. I feel like I can worry less about the tests and be more independent.
And I’ll be able to write more freely.
I have the first draft of my Extended Project finished finally. Now it’s all about revising it, and editing it, and then editing it again and again to make the words sing and the references hum and the premises trill madrigals of wisdom and insight.
While this blog may present a face to the world that is one thing – that I’m careless about grammar and style; that I don’t edit my stuff; and that my English is still a bit off after all those years in Sweden – I am quite careful and mindful with my ‘official writing’. Yes, I am a grammar-nazi, sometimes.
With the other essays and course-work I also did always have a back-hand calculus about what is expected of me, this project is pure me. I’ve decided everything, and the premise is a subject I’m really interested in. In other school work I sometimes have to steel myself to work, this project have never been like that.
This project is interesting, regardless of how tired or disassociated I feel with school and the staff. It feels like it is all mine, mine, mine, and that I feel as if it has little to do with school at all. Even if it does, totally, live in my school work.
Sometimes I wonder if our teachers think of us as separate human beings, with abilities and interests and ideas of our own, or if they see us as representatives of some collectively shared form that will only fracture once we leave school like butterflies that emerge from a chrysalis as soon as we get our exams and head off away from their class rooms.
We are this joint nature, this unfinished form, and we’re all basically the same until that happy day. Like a mail that I just received from the staff at school where the teacher’s aid tries to be funny and go for the ‘I know you don’t want to read and that you just want to play computer games, but please DO read these’.
My bet is that I’ve read more books than that woman in my life, and that if I sent back a list of books she’d not know half of the titles. I don’t want to pretend that I’m upset though. I’m not. But sometimes I wonder. Sometimes I wonder if the teacher’s attitudes against students aren’t going to put them off.
If teachers do not take individual ability, interest, and traits seriously and only confine them to some crude prejudice that all teenagers are only interested in sex and have the attention span of gnats, then it’s a pretty natural reaction to lose interest in whatever that teacher say or want to teach. It becomes a self-fulfilling thing. Not to mention that the teacher’s aid sent this kind of message to us literature students.
Since we went into London yesterday, today we’re going to spend the day doing absolutely nothing. Stephen and Abbie are coming over later, and we may very well engage in mindless, gratuitous computer game violence to shock the defenders of culture and morals and the innocence of youth and all that.
There’s a new game out, Crysis 3, that’s been getting some good reviews, and I’m thinking about downloading it off Steam before they come here. Though I have to count my pennies before I do to see if that’s going to make us have to eat plain pasta and nothing else at the end of the month.
We also need to fill up the car with petrol before long, and that’s going to require quite a big chunk of change. We noticed yesterday when we drove down to the train station that the tank is going ever closer toward empty.
You never think about these things when you don’t have a car, do you? All those little things that make cars expensive as hell to operate, and which makes you plan your life around the levels of petrol in the car’s tank. Or it could be a sign that we’re immensely lazy because it’s not that far to walk down to the train station, is it?