I walk into the high school and what do I see?  People, teenagers, hopes, dreams, drama. A high school is filled with shining lights that have yet to be dimmed, and lights that have yet to shine brighter. Yet that's not all. I see children who were forced to grow up too quickly. I see children who didn’t grow up at all. I see faces full of acne and I see girls on birth control. I see girls covering their shoulders and girls trying to wear as little clothes as possible. I see girls trying to look like women; I see boys trying to act like men. I see the cut up wrists of girls when they change for gym class; I see girls who change in stalls to not be seen. I see those who are obsessed with boys and those who are afraid of them. I see those boys who have bruises on their knuckles or scrapes on their arms. I see bruises that I know don’t come from football practices. The truth is I don’t know the story of each person, so I never judge. I see and I know. These stories are not the scariest. The most heart shattering ones are the ones I do not see, but the ones that I feel? felt. Feel to the core,

“My parents are getting divorced.”

 “I forgot to take my meds”,

 “Oh my god have you seen this?!” 

There are just some people who have been hurt without force and abused without words, and those are the most painful to recognize. That abuse might not have come from parents or in the form of abuse at all. It could have come in the form of lessons. Each person of that sort has a story. Their stories are not meant to be told, their stories are not meant to be shared, they are meant to be locked in place with the key being melted into the binding. The people that bare those stories choose two different paths: to simply live with them, or to forge an armor with the shards that have been thrown at their hearts. The second path is rare, so rare that I have yet to meet that person. I will not say which path I chose. High school is filled with potentials and failures. It is filled with young, blooming people. Unfortunately not all will spread their petals.

What amazes me is the fact that teachers choose to come back to high school for the rest of their lives. These people choose to willingly come back to these images and stages of their lives but to look at it from the other side of the desk. It takes true passion and love to become a real teacher. Sadly, not all teachers are like that. I’m lucky to have had my educational journey filled with true educators, but I have also met and been “educated” by the fake ones.  Every teacher has their stories. Yet, most students are blind to them and are unwilling to see the value that those stories possess. For some of the greatest lessons in life come not from a book, but through the experiences of others. 

High schools are filled with future criminals, abusers, and drunks, but they are also filled with future doctors, lawyers, office workers, business owners, and engineers. I truly believe that everyone can choose their own path, but not every person has the strength to step on that path. Life is not limited to what is in sight. Mankind reaches for the moon but often fails to look left and right. Let this be a call to look around, and extend a reaching hand. Not to be, but to live. To make it all worth it, to make others worthy. Let humanity remember that we are brothers and sisters. Let us help each other step onto the right paths and make the right choices. Enough silence, for today has come and it is time to speak.