Dear Ground Control,
What’s the point of getting into college, working and being a millionaire if we all die? What’s the point in life? What is the secret to life?
Well, assuming you even graduate, maybe you’ll get into college. Maybe you’ll turn off “Clifford the Big Red Dog” on Netflix, and maybe you’ll go out and get a job. Let’s face it, you won’t become a millionaire, so there really isn’t a point. Now, if you have any complaints about that, you’re going to have to suck it up. If you have more to say, feel free to get all existential somewhere else. Start a blog. I hear Tumblr is a good place if you want to talk about your feelings.
Dear Ground Control
Why can’t high school teachers love students? Teachers seem to be in a spell that does not allow them to love students.
-Wannabe a teacher’s pet
Well, if you really want to know the truth, you should put yourself in your teacher’s shoes. Imagine, you get up every day, go to your job, which you chose not because you wanted the paycheck, but because you wanted to help sculpt young minds of America to brighten the future of this sad world. Now imagine you’ve gotten to work, and immediately after you walked through the door, 400 unshowered, cranky, brain dead, phone-staring, chronically late, whiny, arrogant, big-headed, impolite, narrow-minded, sarcastic, self-centered blobs all want your attention so they can pretend to be ooey-gooey nice to you because they want something. After you wade through this sea of teenage terror, you finally get to your classroom where piles of poorly-written essays wait for you to grade them. Then, after spending 6 hours crammed in a room with loud, smelly, complaining, off-task delinquents, you get to go home and grade some more before you restart the whole cycle again in the morning. Would you love your students?