Warning! Side effects!

 Bullying has dramatically amplify in seriousness around the world, yet as one walks up the cement steps to Princess Margaret Secondary School, all worries and nervousness seems to be left at the door. The atmosphere inside the building mimics that of a secret society. Where teenagers loom the halls and the staff mingle with the undergraduates as if they were their own. In a school of over 700, the closeness and respect that seems to emanate from one student to the next is remarkable. Caucasians seem to dominate the school population, while other ethnics mix in to provide a tapestry of pupils to the euphoric school.

 We seem to be in the era where everywhere else Bullying and Suicide news reports, have become a monthly occurrence, the monstrosity of the crisis sending most administrators and staff into a state of panic. The opposite occurs at Maggie, where mustang pride floats through the air every minute of every hour of every day. Accountability, Integrity and Respect three words that these students seem to live by during the school day.

 In my short visit at Princess Margaret I was able to catch a few students in the hall to ask their opinion on where bullying stands in their school. Archie a future 2011 graduate was optimistic and reassuring towards my question stating “That’s not a problem in our school, if an incident comes up it will be dealt with and shut down before it can get serious.” However, his reassuring outlook did not emanate onto Rose, “There are certainly people in the school you go out of your way to avoid. People who can hurt you, but they are smart enough to do it when teachers aren’t around.” Her statement brought in mixed reviews on this topic, leading me to only one conclusion.

 While most at Princess Margaret try to avoid the topic, or brush it off as if nothing is happening. Under the surface there is a whole world of mistreated students and bullies who seek attention and ego boosts, bringing multiple side effects to gaining an education. We live in a world where nothing is perfect, yet I strongly believe there should be more done in schools to stop this behaviour. What is it going to take for things to change? Does another child have to die for someone to notice, or can things be done now to change the way students feel about school?

Dear mundane world:

I am your savior. My red hair burns away your sins. My blue eyes melt away any attempts of calamity by world terrorists. My smile depletes all plans of world doom. My voice is the reason you feel demur. My hands keep peace with the world. Yet I never miss breakfast.

I am faster than light, but then again I am the Light. Before darkness, I was, and again darkness did not comprehend me. My eyes are as flames of fire and nothing hides from me. Yet I still sleep with the light on.

I am the "I am". Smarter than Einstein. More creative than Van Gogh. Taller than Yao Ming. Even richer than Bill Gates, then again you're rich if you know me. My face is also able to change colors to a bright crimson red, when I am embarrassed or publicly speaking.

My mind parted the red sea. In my spare time I took down Goliath with my biology textbook. I built the Ark in less than 10 hours, filling it in only 5. Astonishingly this morning I was able to drop my blackberry in the snow.

My presence heals the wounded and makes the blind see. I can feed the whole continent of Africa with a basket of bread and a tin of tuna. I haven't just walked on water, I ran across the pacific, not even getting my socks wet. And if you drink of me you will never be thirsty.

One of my lesser accomplishments was creating the universe in 5 days. I rose from the dead after taking a  short nap, just in time to catch an episode of Glee.


I didn't just write the Bible, I am the Bible.


Yet I have never been blessed with the opportunity of attending college.

Retrospect

                                                         Retrospect                                                                                                              

My eyes adjust to the dimness I am bestowed by. I can faintly make out the silhouette of two rustic doors just within my reach, my eyes strain to recognize my surrounding, only to come up short. My fingers grasp the handle, the eroded paint, chips as I turn it. The pressure releases the unknown as the door sways open, a pronounced creak filling my eardrums with a weary feeling of impending doom. The ground dissipates abruptly from underneath me, I am free falling through complete darkness, blinded by my own actions. The wind slaps against my face, dislocating my form, from its natural position as I plummet through the abyss. My eyelashes take over, blinking to absorb the liquid that evades imprisonment by my eyes. As the vagueness of my facial irrigation dwindles into obscurity, I find the scene altered. The wind has suddenly stopped. Everything is at a standstill, I am face to face with the doors again. My hand gravitates towards the opposite door, the cool metal of the knob imprinting its texture onto my palm. For a split second I hesitate to open it, not sure what awaits me behind the aged wood. A beautiful vast maze of nature in its essence comes alive below me, ravishing and intimidating all in one. “Magnificent isn’t it” I turn my head, towards the voice, finding a women, beautifully aged with time. “What is it” I ask, curiosity lining my voice. “Close your eyes and listen.” My eyelids flutter shut. Her warm voice radiates through the air between us “Listen to the sounds of the waterfall, each droplet coming together, feel the excitement of the sun, encouraging you. The endless paths you can embrace upon. Take in the freshness of the unknown, the curiosity of the atmosphere.” “Why are you showing me this?” The corners of her lips turn up in a faint smile, almost as if she was remembering something. I look at her completely and utterly perplexed. Her eyes, as soft as the summer's sky watch my face as I analyze her confident poise. Her eyebrows flex and her forehead wrinkles in a mosaic pattern. Her lips begin to from the words that seem to cement themselves into my mind. “The doors coexisting side by side, in the same room yet world’s apart, grade 12 is a mere reflection of this. It’s your year, but you have to make the best of it. You can choose the first door and free fall through it, going through the motions yet never making anything for yourself. Or you can choose the second door. Invest a little aspiration, and get a harvest of opportunities at the end. Choose to live in the beauty of it. Enjoy everything about the experience, because the clock is always ticking, bringing graduation a second closer with each pulse.