The Case Against College Prep Courses

When I moved from Mississippi to South Carolina my junior year, I had to adjust to a lot of new changes. Suddenly, I was the one with a country accent, rather than my county-school friends.  Restaurants seemed to prefer Luzianne sweet tea over Lipton sweet tea--and yes, there is a big difference.  And I began attending a huge school with a campus five times bigger than my old school and a student body that is three times as large.

However, "y'all" is still the preferred pronoun and any tea can be made better with a little sugar.  You even learn to master two flights of stairs and a few very long hallways in five minutes between classes.  So the biggest difference would have to be the "College Preparatory" program that my high school relies on.

If you're one of my Mississippians, you have probably never heard of such a thing, but apparently this trend is spreading through states.  I have no idea if it even originated in South Carolina, but colleges are starting to look for it.  My introduction to the CP program went something like this while I was making my schedule at my new school:

Guidance Counselor: Are you a CP student?

Me: What?

Guidance Counselor: Are you a college preparatory student?

Me: I'm preparing for college, yes.

Guidance Counselor: That's not what I mean.  Do you take CP classes?

Me: What is a CP class?

Basically, the school operates on these four types of classes: Advanced Placement, Honors, College Preparatory, and Regular.  AP, of course, is internationally considered to be college-level classes.  Honors is a step down from AP.  Regular, to be blunt, is for the immigrants who can barely speak English and for the illiterate students that teachers only pass to get rid of.  Call this an exaggeration or even defamation, but everyone knows it is true.  If you are a regular student, you aren't going to graduate and you sure aren't going to college.

That leaves CP.

In Mississippi, you were either an AP student or a regular student.  There were "Pre-APs" for underclassmen, but that was only English, Biology, and World History.  They were supposed to be harder, though they often weren't.  There was nothing wrong with being a regular student.  

So, from what I've gathered, this is how the courses compare (and please remember that this only compares one school in each state, not the whole state):

Not that much of a difference, right?

Wrong.

I was an AP English, Pre-AP English student in Mississippi.  My junior year in South Carolina, the huge school that promised tons of resources was terrifying, so when I transferred I decided to stick to only AP English and take all of my other classes as CP.  I thought that they would certainly be difficult, and I didn't want to ruin my junior year.

Well, I was right.  The CP courses were difficult.  CP Physical Science (PS is a required course in SC) was harder than AP English.  Yet I was one of the few students that wasn't a minority, and in that class I was the only student taking an AP class.  I was watching all of these slackers manage to make A's in CP Physical Science, while I made C's and D's.

What was going on?

 To be honest, I thought it was a fluke.  Science has never been my thing.  But next semester, I took CP Algebra II, in which I had a wonderful teacher.  Even though I don't understand some basic arithmetic, I did extremely well in that class.  I thought that it was just CP Physical Science.

Until my senior year came.  I bit the bullet and decided to take a full schedule, with AP Microeconomics, AP Government, and AP English.  Oh, and CP Computer Animation and CP Chemistry.  How am I doing?  I'm making high marks in all of my AP classes.  Yes, I have to study, but I have yet to pull an all-nighter this year, I have a life, and I still manage to be a regular writer and blogger.  I also tutor special-ed students.  But what about CP Computer Animation and CP Chemistry?

Uh...not so great.  Let's just say that by the end of this semester, I'll be lucky if I have B's in those classes.

Like I said earlier, what is going on?

 Most CP courses I've taken (the only exception is Algebra II with its fabulous teacher) have a lot in common:

• The classes are out of control.  Even the seniors and juniors are loud, disrespectful of the teachers, and destructive of classroom materials.  (Example: broken flasks and beakers in Chemistry.)
• The teachers are soft-spoken and cannot handle pressure.  When the class is loud and boisterous, they go and sit behind their desks.
• The class totally relies on SmartBoards, Elmos, videos, and online activities and tests.
• Classroom lectures consist of a couple of notes on the SmartBoard and maybe a demonstration of some chemicals or a video.
• Teachers automatically assume that the students know background information.
• Tests and quizzes are randomly handed out on material we have not covered in class because of the uncontrollable behavior of the students.
• Teachers automatically assume that a worksheet or book assignment for homework can explain the whole unit.
• The one "smart kid" in the class lets one other student copy his/her work, and then the whole class ends up with the same answers. The teacher does nothing about this.
• Teachers are so disorganized they lose grades, tests, and lesson plans.

Compare to the "regular" classes in Mississippi:

•   Students are usually well-behaved.  Sometimes energetic, but class is usually not disrupted.  If they misbehave, the teachers can handle them and quiet the classroom.
• Teachers give students tons of notes, classroom projects, verbal lectures, examples, and lots of practice.  If a student does not understand, the teacher will work until all of the students do understand.
• Lectures last throughout the whole class.
• Teachers know that students should be able to understand background information, yet they teach it anyway.
• Reviews before tests and quizzes are the norm.
• Homework is always checked and the class always goes over the homework.
• Cheating is basically a federal crime in the school.  Even copying homework assignments is not tolerated.
• Teachers are greatly organized and actually get to know their students.

See the difference?  The MS "regular" classes do not spoon-feed you, but rather they teach and check your comprehension.  The SC "CP" classes don't spoon-feed you, either.  Instead, they kind of just fling random information at you when the class volume is at a soft roar.  The CP kids who have dealt with this program for years have learned how to work it: copy the answers, turn in incomplete homework that will never be checked, and you get an A.  I, however, have been in a school that taught me how to absorb information from notes and examples from a talented teacher.  These watered-down five minute lectures do not let me absorb.  Especially in the maths and sciences, I always finish a lecture with one question on my mind: Wait, what?

Maybe spending my ninth and tenth grade years--the most impressionable years of high school--in such a good school spoiled me.  Maybe it programmed me so I can only understand thorough lectures.  Maybe it's not preparing me for a brash college professor at all.

But how in the world am I supposed to learn in a CP environment?

I'm not only blaming the teachers.  I'm blaming the students as well.  Most CP kids are so immature that it's probably impossible for a teacher to get a handle on the situation.  But why are most CP kids of all races, genders, backgrounds, religions, and personalities so ill-behaved?

Frankly, I think most of the blame lies with the school district as a whole.  They do not have high expectations for CP students.  CP students, even though they're anywhere from thirteen to nineteen years old, are not allowed to use a lot of lab equipment.  The school purchased extremely expensive, advanced thermometers and it apparently took one of my teachers a long time to convince administration that CP students could indeed use them without destroying them.  CP students are not told they must behave like Honors students.  To most of the CP students (since most of them are not a mix of CP and AP like I am), the Honors and AP kids are a completely different breed.  They're the "brains"--the kids who are going to "be somebody."  (I really hate that phrase, but that's another conversation entirely.)  CP kids may be "preparing for college" but college isn't even on most of their minds.  They don't even think past what they'll do when the final bell of the day rings.

Shortly after we moved here, I tried to explain my CP Physical Science class to my mom: bare minimum lectures, a teacher who disliked all students and refused to be acquainted with them, and surprise tests on materials we never went over.  Her automatic response was, "Hey, that sounds like college."  So is that what College Preparatory classes are about?  They're preparing us for the cold world called higher education?

Maybe so, but how effective is it in high school?  The answer is: it's not.  It's only teaching students to be lazy and to cheat.  It's only telling us that adults don't care and don't expect us to succeed.  It's not preparing us for the real world at all.

My dad saw that I was struggling in some of my CP classes and immediately asked why.  After I tried to explain all of this to him, I finally only left him with this statement:  "CP's are so easy, they're dumbing me down.  They're so easy they're hard."  It sounds like a huge oxymoron, but I think it properly underlines the CP effect. (Of course, I have had one exception with CP Algebra II, but that class was full of well-behaved children and a teacher who personally tutored the students if they needed help.)

So, to sum it all up, I think I'll leave you, dear reader, with a conversation I had with a fellow CP student.  He is one of the biggest disruptions in the class, yet he manages to keep a B average in the class thanks to copying and cutting corners.

Unnamed Student: Hey Sarah, what do you have in this class?

Me: Uh, I'm not doing so hot.

Unnamed Student: Do you have to pass this class?

Since when does any kid get to choose which class he or she has to pass?  What, are we allowed to have two or three bonus classes that don't really matter if we pass or not? That, dear reader, is the case against College Preparatory courses.  They lower the students' expectations of themselves.

If you think I'm disgruntled now, you should have seen my face when I started to fill out the out-of-state application for the University of Mississippi.  There, in the prerequisites, it listed a number of required courses filed under the name "College Preparatory Courses."  Unfortunately, these low expectations and performances are spreading.

Blacklists and Wishlists

My Blacklist (aka Things that Need to DIE):
1.) The College Board's preoccupation with Emily Dickinson.
2.) Chuck Norris jokes.
3.) Cold weather.
4.) The Game. Even if you are one of the last two people on earth who do not know what The Game is, you just lost anyway.
5.) Guidos and anything associated with "Jersey Shore."
6.) AP essay prompts.
7.) Biased Government textbooks.
8.) Grilled chicken at KFC.
9.) Scrunchies.
10.) The misconception that tanned skin is sexy.
11.) The careers of Justin Bieber and Miley Cyrus.
12.) Filthy public restroom habits.
13.) Stephenie Meyer's aversion to writing "Midnight Sun."
14.) The world's obsession with "Inception"...
15.) Or maybe my inept understanding of "Inception."
16.) Unsweetened tea.
17.) iTunes' high prices and taxes.
18.) The number game on Facebook.
19.) Negative stereotypes.
20.) The empty claim that Lady Gaga is a hermaphrodite.
21.) AP Microeconomics.

My Wishlist (aka Things that Need to Exist):
1.) The College Board's preoccupation with Dr. Seuss.
2.) 70 degree weather every day.
3.) Textbooks and teachers that offer every side of each issue without spilling their own views into the lesson.
4.) Macaroni and cheese at KFC.
5.) AP Jump Rope or AP Channel-Surfing.
6.) A bestselling novel by yours truly.
7.) Coexistence for everyone.
8.) Taco Bell delivery.
9.) Mr. George Feeny.
10.) A desire in young men to wear their pants around their waists.
11.) A "Mute Parent" button.
12.) A degree in late-night Waffle House runs.
13.) A Disney movie channel...that actually plays Disney movies...you know, the good kind.
14.) My own personal sassy gay friend.
15.) Headbands that don't give me a headache by third period.
16.) A fun exercise routine.
17.) A clean and healthy Gulf of Mexico.
18.) Unbreakable hearts.
19.) A president who actually listens to his/her people.
20.) Universal 3G.
21.) A Starbucks in my kitchen.
22.) A response from Sarah Palin.

Rant #1: Keep Yo Hands Outta My BBQ Chips

I don't want my readers to think this will only be a blog about Sarah Palin or politics or heavy stuff.  So I came up with the idea of one rant per week. If you have met me, you should already know that I already rant a lot, but hopefully these blogs will make you laugh and/or shake your head at the world around us.

So I present...

Rant #1: Keep Yo Hands Outta My BBQ Chips

Dear little middle schooler,

I'm very impressed with the fact that you are in seventh grade and you are taking the SAT at the big high school.  Honestly, you probably did better on it than I did.  And I'm impressed that you had the nerve to come up to a girl wearing a senior ID and attempted (rather poorly) to flirt.

But just because we're in the same testing center does not mean that you can help yourself to my snacks!

The whole point of breaks during the SAT is to give your brain a five minute break, to reorient yourself, to seek encouragement from your friends, and to stock up on snacks.  Your OWN snacks.

So no, you may not walk up to me and try to stick your hand into my fun-size bag of Lay's BBQ Chips.

It's nothing against you--except that...

1.) I don't know you.
2.) I don't know where your hands have been.
3.) I don't know if you are a hand sanitizer enthusiast like I am.
4.) My hands automatically form the "awkward turtle" whenever you're around.


I just don't share my chips with people unless they ask first.  It's a pretty common rule among most humans. We're not a Communist country (yet) so if I pay for my chips, then they MUST be my chips!  Call me an evil capitalist, but that's not going to get you far. They're still my chips.


And if I react badly to your hands touching my chips, then I probably won't accept a handful of your Goldfish crackers.


Once again, it's nothing against you.  It's basic human sanitation.


Thank God for tiny bottles of hand sanitizer to keep clean with.


Sincerely,
Disgusted

Sarah's Palin Project: Part Three (The Meeting)

So, I met Sarah Palin.

It took a total of $17.65, six hours of waiting in line, and a whole lot of patience, but part three of Sarah's Palin Project has been accomplished.

Since I'm mostly a writer of fiction, shall I give it to you in prose?  Yeah, I agree.

First, let me begin with the letter I wrote to Governor Palin.  It was extremely difficult for me to sit down and start the letter.  I already had a few inklings of what I wanted to say, but so many thoughts were literally racing through my head that it was hard to organize and even make my fingers move.  I started typing on Friday during first period Foundations of Animation class, and continued through fourth period Study Hall and lunch period.  The letter was not finished, much less typed, so I sped home (thank God the good Richland County law enforcers did not see me) and immediately went to my computer at 4:00.  It took me twenty minutes to finish up the letter, and even then, I wasn't happy with it.

I've never had much luck with printers.  I have bought a total of four since November 2009.  They just always quit working for me or the ink cartridges fall out or the cords don't match my computer...it's seriously a curse.  I suddenly realized that oh my gosh, I haven't set up my new HP yet, and I didn't have time to set it up since it was already 4:20 and I had to be at Books-a-Million at 4:30.  So I ran down the sidewalk to the lovely ladies in my apartment complex's office and begged them to let me use their printer.  Unfortunately, I emailed myself the file rather than using a flash drive (since I'm cursed with flash drives as well; they always grow legs and run away from me).  And of course the office employees told me that their boss was on the phone with Time Warner, trying to have their Internet repaired.  They had zero Internet connection.

It was 4:25 by then.  So I thanked them, hopped in the truck, and my sweet father and I drove to Sandhill.  I was trying to figure out how in the world I was going to print this letter.  I couldn't think of any Internet cafes on Two Notch Road, and of course any other street is entirely out of the way.  Daddy begrudgingly pulled into Sandhill, telling me that I would have to find another way to give Governor Palin a piece of my mind.  And by kismet--or God--I spied the Family Christian Store, which happens to be filled with employees who adore my mom because she probably pays their bills by buying every piece of merchandise they have for sale.  I told Dad to pull into the parking lot and I ran into the store, trying to maintain some sort of professionalism.  I'm sure I looked like an overachiever, with my dressy coat, iPhone in hand, and my speech:  "Hi, my name is Sarah Meadows.  I'm on my way to see Sarah Palin in Books-a-Million.  I've taken a project upon myself to give her a letter expressing the thoughts of a young American citizen, but I have a problem:  I wasn't able to print it at home.  Is there any way I can use your printer?"

I think the manager recognized me since I'm in there all the time with my mom.  As soon as he verified that I wasn't printing a hate speech toward anyone, he told me that he would be happy to print it for me.  There was a problem, however: his computer at work had security features that only allowed his company's email program to be open, and he could only receive emails from his company.  But his solution was for me to use my iPhone to email my file to one of his supervisors, and in turn his supervisor could forward it to him.  Of course, he needed his supervisor's permission. So he was on the phone with his supervisor for a good ten minutes while I frantically tried to send my file to the supervisor.

Unfortunately, my iPhone would shut down every time I would try to pull up my email.  I took the long route and pulled up Safari, logged into Hotmail, sent the file...and then the phone shut down again.  And again.

So I found my dad, swapped phones with him, and voila: it worked like magic.  But the supervisor was on the road, and it would take him a while to receive and forward the email.  After fifteen more minutes, the manager of Family Christian Store received the file...but for some reason, the computer wouldn't open it.  So I came up with another idea: I could open the file on my iPhone (which was somehow working again), copy the text, paste the text into an email, send it to the supervisor, and have it forwarded to the manager.  After ten more minutes, this finally worked.  Of course the formatting of the letter was screwed up, but since it was after 5:00, I didn't have time to edit it.  Microsoft Word would not work on the computer, so the sweet manager printed the letter straight from his email and allowed me to cut the HTML headings off with a pair of scissors.  He also didn't charge me for the paper, which is always a blessing.

After I thanked everyone involved profusely, we rushed to Books-a-Million and were dismayed to see the line was awfully long.  (I'm sorry for the lack of proper pictures to document the crowd and signing, but cell phones weren't allowed due to Governor Palin's security regulations, which I definitely understand.) While Dad parked the truck, I went and took the place in the back of the line.  I'll also add that while I was wearing a sweater, jeans, and a heavy coat, I was freezing and it looked like rain was coming.  Fortunately, I was told that the line was in numerical order, and since my wristband was #336, I was able to move up in the line of 550 people.  Dad quickly joined me and we took our spots in line by the sweet ladies we had met while buying the wristbands, which offered great conversation.

Governor Palin hadn't even arrived yet.  The great BAM employees were able to let most people into the warm, dry store.  I get cold very easily, so I was especially grateful for this.  Now that I had my letter sealed in an envelope with a written apology for the poor formatting, I could relax and enjoy the three hour wait.  The governor had obviously arrived at some point, because the line kept inching forward and we saw people leaving the store, books in hand and smiles on faces.  It felt like a hundred years later when I finally stepped up to the black curtain, but I have to admit it kind of sneaked up on me.  I was probably discussing socialism, the SAT, piercings, or something with the women around me, and then--bam!--I was suddenly four feet away from Sarah Palin, and my letter was suddenly burning a hole in my pocket.  (I kept it in my coat pocket in fear that a security guard would snatch it away from me and accuse me of administering anthrax or something equally nefarious.)

Being only 5'1, I was standing on my tiptoes to try to see her.  I could see her through the slightly-sheer curtain, and I immediately recognized the way her hair on top was pulled back--and those famous glasses.  But when I stepped inside the curtain, I saw immediately that she was wearing black boots.  They weren't a pair of boots that I would necessarily buy, but for some reason, they screamed Sarah Palin.  The woman in front of me finally stepped forward to the table, and I saw her.

Governor Palin looked adorable in her black suit, fluffy white scarf, and specs, but what I first realized was that she had a huge smile on her face.  She held the woman's hand as they discussed military service.  The stranger in front of me was a veteran, and Governor Palin simply couldn't thank her enough for her service.  They talked for a good minute until I could finally step up.  I already was impressed with the governor just from the way she was so kind to the woman in front of me.

Governor Palin gave me a huge smile, grabbed a book, and caressed my hand between hers, like we were old friends.  I noticed immediately that she had the soft hands that are so unique to mothers.  (I believe you can tell a lot by a person's hands.  Hands fascinate me.  It's like they have their own story to tell.)  She asked me brightly, "How are you?"

"I'm great," I replied.  "I'm a Sarah, too.  It's so nice to meet you."

"It's wonderful to meet you," she said in a bubbly tone.  "How old are you?"

"I'm seventeen, a senior in high school."

"Wonderful!  What are you going to do after this year?"  Her eyes appraised me as she expertly signed my book.

"I'm hoping to go to the University in Mississippi and major in English," I explained, sticking with the life plan I was feeling on that certain day.

Her eyes literally sparkled.  "Are you going to be a teacher?" she asked hopefully.

"Probably," I admitted.  "But I'm a writer at heart.  I'll be writing novels no matter what I do.  Probably some political books, too."

Her smile widened.  "That is so great!"

Honestly, I was astonished that I had received this much time with her.  She wasn't glancing back at the crowd, she wasn't drumming her fingers, she wasn't reaching for another book.  Her eyes were transfixed on me.  "I have a question," I said, trying to sound nice and bold at the same time, but a little fearful that I was about to be tackled by security.  "I wrote you a letter...can I give it to you?  It's just a young American's point of view on our country."

And once again, her eyes lit up.  "Oh, yes!" she exclaimed.  "Absolutely!  Thank you!"

So I pulled the letter out of my pocket.  "Sorry it's so crumpled," I said shyly.  "I didn't know if they would allow me to bring it in, so I had to sneak."

She laughed.  "No, I totally understand.  Let me write your name on the envelope so I'll be sure to read it on the airplane home tonight."  She took her Sharpie and scrawled my name on it before hesitating.  "Sarah with an h?"

"Yes, ma'am," I replied.  "The right way to spell it."

Again she laughed.  "I appreciate this so much."

My dad had stepped up then, so she turned to him.  "I'm Sarah's father," he explained.

Governor Palin gave him one of those warm smiles she's really quite good at.  "She is precious," she told him.  (Which I thought was pretty cool, of course.)

Daddy, of course, thanked her.  She wanted to know what he does for a living, and when he mentioned he retired from the Army, she gave him a very sincere "Thank you for your service."  She signed his book, they shook hands, and then we had to leave.

So yeah, Sarah Palin is just as sweet, genuine, and down-to-earth as she appears to be on television.  I have to admit that she was enchanting, to say the least.  I don't know if it is her sense of style, her charisma, her enthusiasm, or what, but she was so easy to relate to.  She is as real as they come.  I was pretty much on cloud nine over the simple fact that my letter had finally been printed and delivered to her.  It had certainly taken long enough, with lots of hoops to jump through just to print the letter!

Oh--just a little note.  Her youngest daughter Piper was there, standing next to her mom patiently.  I wanted to talk to Piper just because she is simply adorable but just before I could step up to the table, someone took her away.  (Probably to the Joe Muggs kiosk, if I had to guess, for a cupcake or something equally delicious.)  Piper was just as cute as her mother, in a tweed coat.  (I've been a Piper fan since she so lovingly cared for her little brother during her mother's speech, so I had to include that.)

So.  Now that I have a signed book and my letter has been delivered, I move on to part four of Sarah's Palin Project: wait for a response.

And wait, and wait, and wait....

The only picture I could take at BAM--so happy to finally wear my wristband!

 My signed book. I can't wait until I can have book-signings, though my handwriting will never be that pretty.

And ignore the picture of me. This was taken post-SAT.

Sarah's Palin Project: Part Two (The Letter)

Dear Governor Palin,

I am writing to you not as a Republican or Democrat, but as an American—and a young American at that.  Allow me to introduce myself.  I am a high school senior in South Carolina.  I have been interested in politics since I watched the results of the 2000 presidential election with my mother.  It has become a hobby of mine, especially since I am now in my last year of “childhood.”  I’ve been paying special attention to the world around me, trying to make sense of our tumultuous government so I can prepare for the future.  And frankly, it scares me.

           

I’ve chosen to write to you not because you are a politician or even a favorite of mine, but because you are a woman who actually seems to care for her people.  I’m afraid that this is becoming rarer and rarer in American politics.  We have a president who made a lot of attractive promises, but two years after the election, we are still waiting to see the fulfillments of these vows.  We have a Congress who keep pushing acts and bills that the American people do not want.  And it seems that the media is more enchanted than ever by political scandals focusing on the private lives of politicians.  (I’m sure that you are especially aware of that last one, but I can honestly say that you are one of the most graceful politicians when it comes to handling “scandals.”  Thank you for finally bringing some classiness back to the American government.)

           

But amidst all of this craziness, the American people feel ignored and betrayed.  Right now my family is going through a rather tough time concerning finances and insurance.  My parents—both veterans, I might add—have lost a lot of money in the stock market.  We’re pinching pennies for Christmas.  As President Obama’s healthcare plan looms closer, I am forced to wonder if my “pre-existing condition” of bipolar disorder will prevent me from obtaining my necessary medications and any other healthcare.  However, right now my biggest fear is college, which I will be attending in fall 2011.  My illness, triggered by my older brother’s sudden suicide, has interfered with my ability to sleep, which of course has negatively affected my grades.  If I can’t win a full-ride scholarship to college, how in the world am I going to pay for my education?  (Meanwhile, at Texas A&M, illegal immigrants are receiving in-state tuition and scholarships.)  I’m currently trying my hardest to pick up the pieces of my life and maintain a solid grade point average, but what if I’m not one of the lucky few to receive help?

It’s hard for me to believe that my generation is being “provided for” by today’s decisions.  We will be taxpaying adults very soon, and so many costs are already being thrown on top of us.  You mentioned in your latest book that you saw a Tea Partier with a picket sign that said “My child is not your ATM.”  As much as Tea Party signs tend to exasperate me, I feel that this one should be taken seriously.  We are already facing a future of mediocre, unfair healthcare.  Why should my generation have to pay for the mistakes of people we are not yet able to influence?  This literally breaks my heart.  One of the reasons I admire you is because you are a dedicated mother and grandmother.  I truly believe that I was put on this earth to be a mother.  But what if I don’t want to raise my children in such a nation as America?  (Before the past few years, would you have ever thought those words would be spoken by a citizen of “the greatest country in the world"?)

It terrifies me that one day, I will have to pay for the mistakes of today’s politicians.  Of course, as President Obama so delicately phrases it, we “inherited this mess.”  However, unlike President Obama, I realize that today’s problems are not solely produced by President Bush’s two terms.  Today’s mistakes are the products of yesterday’s mistakes, and so forth, and so forth.  This pattern has been the trend for America since our earliest days.  We have allowed politics to become a popularity contest and a football game.  How many times do the American people have to play defense against the government’s offense?  How many times will biased referees call the shots and make the public’s home team suffer?  How long will this go on?  Of course, we cannot blame it on one person or one political party.  The Democrats have lost touch with reality in so many ways—of course we need heightened national security, President Obama. Of course the American people are suspicious of a healthcare bill we are not able to preview and understand.  However, the Republicans are just as guilty.  The GOP has become a party of compromises, and it is the latest victim to factions.  The Tea Party, considered to be the most radical group of Republicans, has members who are begging for a third party.  In my eyes, there is nothing wrong with a third party, but how can the right side of the political spectrum set the country right-side-up if they are divided over who is “conservative enough”?

Basically, I think that Americans have grown lazy and apathetic toward government.  My government textbook from school claims that voter apathy simply does not have an effect on elections and how our country is run.  I disagree.  I am a member of the most apathetic generation yet and I can already see how we are starting to further destroy the government.  Most people in my classes only care about one political topic: the legalization of marijuana.  Of course, this is not a topic that is central to our government.  But how can we be blamed for our apathy if our lethargic parents have not raised us to be political thinkers?  I really think it is time for the American people—liberal and conservative—to stand up and say that no, the new millennium’s ‘10s, ‘20s, and ‘30s will not repeat history.  The 1960s and 1970s were times of great revolution, but in the end, we still became victims to gridlock and failure.  This has been going on for long enough.  It needs to stop.

President Obama needs to know that we need transparency in government.  Whatever happened to those promises of Congressional meetings on C-SPAN?  I have lived in a socialist nation while my father served in the Army, and I know that this large, regulated government of smoke and mirrors is not the American way at all—nor does it benefit the people.  Americans are supposed to take pride in the fact that they can have a say in the future of the nation.  What has happened to take this pride away from us?  Our president doesn’t seem to understand the suppressed spirit of Americanism.  Our president also needs to realize that as long as he doesn’t involve the people, he will continuously lose support in everything he does.  He needs to see that we do not want socialism, we do not want lessened national security, we do not want our country’s benefits to be taken from us and given to illegal immigrants, and that we absolutely should not lay down our nuclear weapons as long as North Korea and Iran are creating new nuclear weapons.  I tend to be an idealist and I dream about a nuclear-free world, but I know that it is folly to drop your own defense as our enemies heighten theirs.  Sure, Russia agreed to destroy some nuclear weapons, but have other hostile countries?  No, they haven’t.  Sometimes I want to say, Mr. Obama, I don’t mean to talk to you like a kindergartner, but aren’t you supposed to look before you cross the road and see if any Mack trucks are coming?

           

This may seem like a great Tea Party rally cry, but really, it’s only common sense.  No matter how liberal or conservative you are, you should always look out for yourself and your family.  And the current generation in power should look out for their children.  We’re about to “inherit this mess.”  I will finally be able to vote in the 2012 election (which I’ve been longing to do since 2000) and with that right comes responsibility.  How will I know who to vote for when almost every single politician, party, and government faction seems to be crooked?  What politician, activist, simple citizen on the sidewalk will finally stand up and say “Enough is enough, let’s get this done”?  Who will pay voters back with kept promises and sound decisions?

It’s quite disturbing to me that I don’t have any answers to these questions.  I would love to know if you have any answers, and if you have any opinions of how Americans can finally say “Enough is enough.”  You’re not only famous for being a former vice-presidential candidate.  You’re famous for your spirit, charisma, and enthusiasm.  And as a mother who is already taking care of members of the uprising generation, I’m sure you have special concern for the young people like me who are standing at a fork in the road and saying, “What in the world is going on here?”

Governor Palin, a response would be most appreciated as to how we can finally find some genuine “change we can believe in.”

Sincerely,
Sarah Meadows

Sarah's Palin Project: Part One

Today, during AP Government class, I was quite stunned to learn that 2008 Republican Vice-President nominee Sarah Palin is going to be in Columbia on Friday.  Not only in Columbia, but approximately three minutes down the road from my residence.  Apparently, Books-a-Million is hosting a book signing for her latest book, America by Heart: Reflections on Family, Faith, and Flag.  I was bouncing in my desk all day at school, waiting for 3:33 PM to finally arrive so I could zoom to BAM and find out the specifics.

First of all, you should know that I'm not a huge Palin follower.  I think she's an extremely classy person (notice I said person, not woman) who is devoted to (mostly) solid values--and of course I love her style and spunk.  We agree on a lot and we also disagree on a lot.  So she's just like any other politician, right?

Wrong.  What is it about her that makes conservatives swoon and liberals tremble?

I'm determined to find out.  

And so at approximately 11:28 AM on December 1, 2010, the mission I will label as "Sarah's Palin Project" was born.

What is the SPP?  Well, let me explain.  I will meet Governor Palin in the book signing line, let her sign my copy of America by Heart, and hopefully get a picture with her (although that is highly doubtful because of her security regulations).  But instead of just shaking her hand and leaving, I am going to leave a letter with her.

This letter will have my heart poured out into it.  Basically, I'm going to express to her how it feels to grow up in such trying times in America and my deep-rooted fears for the future of our nation.  It won't be a partisan statement; I'm going to express disgust at both sides of the political spectrum--yes, even the Tea Party, who is currently her biggest supporter.  This won't be a letter that grovels at her feet--because honestly, I don't agree with her enough to do that.  This will be a letter of sincerity and hope for change (but not "Change We Can Believe In").

And I'm going to see if I get a reply.

I'll admit that it's a long-shot, considering she's a family woman who races between states every week (and still manages to look gorgeous and put-together while she does it). But I'll post my letter to her here, and if she replies, then I will post her letter on the blog.

Of course, this is an extremely short-notice project.  But my journalistic instincts are screaming at me.  This is an opportunity for a real story, even if it is only discussing how kind or unkind Governor Palin is at the book-signing.

So, Step One of Sarah's Palin Project:
(excuse the primitive pictures; I was using an iPhone and was trying to be inconspicuous as I took pictures of total strangers)

1.) Go to Books-a-Million and stand in line for five minutes to buy the book.

45 degrees outside, yet the Palin admirers wait...

2.) Go stand in another line for two and half hours to swap your receipt for a wristband.

 At least we found some heat...

 

Might as well start reading the book since we're here for two and a half hours...

 

 Se-cur-i-ty! Se-cur-i-ty! This dude needs to go!

3.) Collect your rewards...

No, I haven't read the book yet, but I can't resist a cheesy photo op.

The golden ticket  

4.) Write the letter and wait...and wait...and wait...

 This should be a fun and interesting project...the letter to Governor Palin will be posted as soon as it is finished.

We're the young generation, and we've got something to say

After the Associated Press released a report detailing a new North Korean nuclear facility, my family (as we often do) sat in the living room and discussed how this latest development will affect the world and ultimately, the future. My parents are extremely conservative thinkers, and my brother is almost as conservative as they are. I'm the family "liberal" although I simply consider myself to be moderate. (Some of my classmates tell me instead that I'm a "liberal conservative," but labels work so much better on soup cans, right?) While I agree with my family on a lot, we also have our differences. Especially concerning nuclear capabilities.

This won't be a blog discussing the pros and cons of having a nuclear arsenal. This is a blog discussing what other topic came up in our debate: Why is my generation so idealistic and why do a lot of us have pacifist leanings?  My parents tried to figure this out after I mentioned that no human being has the right to create such a destructive weapon as an atomic bomb. Of course they disagreed with me and called me a pacifist, but we still came up with some answers to the aforementioned question that may or may not be true. Below is a list of theories that came up in our discussion (and in my brain).

1.) This recent "Peace, Love, and Happiness" fad is just "blowin' in the wind," as Bob Dylan would say, and we'll eventually forget about peace signs and war protests.


2.) The liberals in the American government have "brainwashed" the young people to believe that nuclear weapons, wars, and any kind of violence should be put to rest.  Unfortunately, this is not the real world, so we might as well realize that war gets stuff done.

3.) Hollywood (e.g. Michael Moore and Barbra Streisand) has leaked anti-war in Iraq views into movies and music, which of course does not represent real life.

4.) The parents and adults that govern the young generation were the original picket protesters, so they're the only reason we're so outspoken against war and the government.

and finally, my personal theory:

Young people have always been able to see what society is doing wrong.  It was young people who marched in the civil rights movement.  It was young people who protested the cruelties of the draft during the Vietnam War.  It was young men who fought in the Civil War.  It was young revolutionaries who fought in the ragtag armies that captured independence for the colonies.

So what is my generation doing now?

Are we trying to put an end to war as a whole?  Are we daring to dream that maybe a world without war could exist?  Could it be possible that war can one day be as outdated as segregation in America?

Could it be that like every other generation before us, the young people are one step ahead in our thinking?

I think it is certainly something to consider as the older generation is building nuclear facilities and drawing lines in the sand. Perhaps my generation won't be the one to stop all the fight, but maybe we'll plant the seeds in the hearts of the next generation.


You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one. I hope someday you'll join us, and the world will live as one. 
--John Lennon

And so this is Christmas...yet the world is so wrong?

As Christmas approaches, we Americans are getting excited about family gatherings, holiday food, Christmas trees, and of course, lots of presents.  So while we start to gain our holiday pounds, chew on this:

• If you live on more than $10 a day, you are in the top 20% wealthiest people on earth.
• 22,000 children die each day due to poverty.
• 40 million people are living with AIDS/HIV.
• 15 million children are orphaned due to AIDS/HIV.
• Each year, more people die from indoor air pollution (due to the poor's burning of solid fuels) than malaria and tuberculosis combined.
• 1.1 billion people have inadequate access to water.
• There are 2.2 billion children in the world. 1 billion of these children are living in poverty.
• $12 billion a year goes to the worldwide human trafficking industry--and yes, wealthy world leaders and politicians are responsible for much of this.
• Less than 1% of what the world spends every year on weapons could have been used to put every child into school by the year 2000.
  
   If these stunning facts don't strike a chord with you, then maybe this video will. I don't ever hide the ugliness of the world, so if these images disturb you...well, maybe that's a good thing.
  
   So how can we fight back?
  First of all, I don't think that literally "fighting" is the answer, so the Peace Corps really has my respect. They don't represent one political view, religion, or people group. They're just doing good in the name of peace. I'll be donating to the Corps this holiday season.
  
  But, here are more specific charities that may capture your heart:
  
  
  Charities, foundations, and organizations that are taking donations or gifts to fight world poverty:
  Compassion (sponsor a child in a developing nation)
  United Nations Children's Fund (more widely known as UNICEF)
  The Hunger Site (give monetary gifts)
  World Vision's Haiti Mission (sponsor a child in Haiti)
  Somaly Mam (an organization to stop human trafficking and sex slavery)
  
  FREE ways to fight the cruelty of the world:
  Free Rice (play games for free to donate rice to hungry people)
  The Hunger Site  (click the big yellow button and sponsors will donate food, sign petitions, and register with the site to donate food)
  NeoAid Search Engine (surf the web and rack up donations at no cost to you)
  Campbell's Chunky Click for Cans (vote for your favorite football team to donate cans of soup)
  End Homelessness (click and sponsors will give money)
  
  Get your Christmas shopping done AND give back at these retail sites:
  Toms Shoes (buy a pair of shoes [the most comfortable shoes ever, I might add] and they will donate a pair to a child in need)
  Survivor Empowerment Store (scarves, jewelry, and books--proceeds go to Somaly Mam and survivors of human trafficking)
  St. Jude Children's Research Hospital  (clothing, jewelry, toys, accessories, and more to benefit St. Jude [finding cures for sick children, even if families cannot afford medical care])
  (Red) (tons of popular products including Apple, Converse, Starbucks, Dell, Gap, etc...50% of proceeds go to AIDS/HIV programs in Africa)
  
  And so this is Christmas, for weak and for strong, for rich and the poor ones. The world is so wrong. And so happy Christmas, for black and for white, for yellow and red ones. Let's stop all the fight! A very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Let's hope it's a good one without any fear.
  (War is over, if you want it!)
  (John Lennon and Yoko Ono)

A Love Letter

Dear High School,

Since we are in the fourth year of our relationship, I feel that I should write you a love letter and let you know how much I appreciate everything you have taught me.  This has truly been an enlightening experience, and every year just adds a new layer to the vast knowledge I have culminated in roughly 125 weeks.  How do I love thee?  Let me count the ways...

English taught me that essays should convey lots of emotion and conviction; and that Atticus Finch, Snowball, and Juliet Capulet would change my life. Never climb a tree with your jealous friend, because it didn't work out too well for Finny.  Antigone, Anne Moody, and Adolf Hitler were also the professors of various moral lessons I learned. Biology enlightened me on the fact that the periodic table is not really necessary to understand the world around you. I was also taught personal health and anatomy and physiology.  I even dissected a mink. In Algebra, I learned that there really is a method to the madness of alphabet soup in an equation. In Geometry, I learned what a rhombus is and was educated in how to defend my postulates and theorems. Mississippi Studies and Geography enlightened me on the wonders of soil and the lies of "global warming."  In Spanish, I was educated on other cultures and even learned how to get by in Peru, which I exercised the summer after my sophomore year. When it came to art, I was taught that creativity should have no limits. I mastered the art of driving. I learned to respect the Medici and was able to list every single belief in Gandhi's personal religion.  Since I went to high school in 2008--the eve of a great change--I even debated the policies of John McCain and Barack Obama, and celebrated the fact that finally, my great nation was able to elect a minority to the highest office in the world.  I made friends with the wonderful Jay Gatsby, Huckleberry Finn, and Tea Cake--and I made a coveted "8" on my expository essay.  I explored the physics of a falling balloon and even learned the recipe for silly putty. I became a master of linear programming and invisible numbers.  US History also educated me on the dark history of America and how far our country has come since our founding.  I also took a physical education class, and as a result can send a birdie over a badminton net.

But I learned lessons from the outside world and from other students that, somehow, overshadowed all of those wonderful education opportunities.

For example, I learned that SparkNotes are far more interesting and shorter than the actual books.  I realized that you don't actually have to do your homework if your teacher only checks it for completion--for Spanish, just write the entire Taco Bell menu, and for math, just write random numbers and X's in an orderly fashion.  I found that it is ridiculously easy to throw a project together the period before it is due.  It's useful to have the same handwriting as your friends.  If you have a creeper male teacher, the "dumb blonde" act scores you an A.  I learned that you should become best friends with the person sitting next to you, but only if that person is smarter or more studious than you, because you don't want assistance from just anyone.  And though this is an overused Facebook cliche, the word "finals" really actually does mean "F*ck I Never Actually Learned (this) Sh*t."

And now, as I'm in the throes of my senior year, how am I using all of this knowledge?  Well, my dear, these three years of high school, you have really helped me.

Suddenly, you are supposed to have NO emotion in your essays.  I don't even remember the main characters in the books I just alluded to--once again, SparkNotes helped me with those few characters I listed there. Yet I'm still expected to be able to crank out a "9" essay on them in 40 minutes with a pencil? The periodic table actually IS important and will kick your angle-side-side if you don't know how to use it.  I've never used a rhombus but suddenly math has a limit--and it doesn't exist?!?  Silly putty is completely useless but apparently it's important to know how many moles are in a chemical I've never even heard of?  The benefits of invisible numbers are, well, invisible.  And as for the rocky road that America has been traveling, according to AP Microeconomics and AP Government, we haven't even made it to the dreaded fork in the road.  Even though I learned about herpes and cancer, I was never taught that seniorits is actually a life-threatening disease that no one will take the motivation to cure. And the only letter that is actually useful in math is K--as in, "Our university will cost you $15K a semester."

Obviously, high school, you are not working hard enough to outscream the promises of SparkNotes and the Taco Bell menu, because my slacker "let's just scrape by" methods have left me desperate and disappointed in the most important year of my high school career.  But I still love you...because...well...oh, never mind.

Thanks a lot,
Your latest senioritis patient

P.S. As for the social studies lessons you have taught me...it's November and I'm wearing shorts, so global warming is taking place somewhere.  And as for our great minority president?  He's handing out my college money to illegal immigrants.  Suck on that, you extreme conservatives and extreme liberals.  Seriously, high school, can't you hire some moderates?

P.P.S. You're probably wondering: where does this leave our relationship?  Well...we're done in 2011.

Fancy Seeing You Here!

Okay, I've done this like...118347234 times. I've customized a really cool blog, brainstormed blog titles, written really promising first posts...and then I never think about it again.

So why am I doing it again? I'm really not sure. I don't know if I will stick to writing this blog, or if I will simply desert it and move on to another one a few months later.  But my argument as to why I should keep a regular blog is this: how will my writing ever improve if no one is allowed to read it?

I've never had a problem with expressing my opinion about anything, but when it comes to my poetry and my) prose, I'm a little more private. I also tend to write news articles and columns and commentaries that never see the outside of my little green notebook. I don't do it because I want to be a reporter or because I consider myself to be the next George Orwell. I won't ever be either. I do it because sometimes I think I see the world differently than those around me. I don't view the world through a rose-colored glass, but instead I think it's a yellow-colored glass. Bright, loud, cheery, and sometimes sad. (Have you ever seen a single yellow wildflower in a field? It's lonely, and it has no one to cheer up. It's one of the saddest sights in the world.) Yellow has the ability to offend people--like my beloved yellow nail polish that a friend has described as "a fungus"--and yellow has the ability to make people smile. Yellow can actually represent every different mood in the world, if you use your imagination, unlike "rose," which only represents the good.

But enough with color analysis. Let me introduce myself, in case you've stumbled upon this little blog and are still interested after all of that...

My name is Sarah.

I am a senior in high school.

I am at peace with the past, bored with the present, and terrified of the future.

My current list of career possibilities includes:
-high school English or Creative Writing teacher
-graphic designer
-photographer

But I will be writing novels and poetry no matter what I do.

I am obsessed with the idea of being a wife and mother, but I will never, ever be a Stepford or a Proverbs 31 woman.

I feel most confident when I'm wearing high heels and lipstick.

I am very idealistic when it comes to politics, but I figure I'll be an "Independent" when I'm able to vote.

I am extremely clumsy, and my foot apparently likes to be in my mouth.

I am a hopeless romantic.

I am a living testimony to the phrase, "You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone."

Feel free to leave a comment and introduce yourself, friend.