Dean’s List

Dean’s List: (n) a list of students of high scholastic standing

I am not sure that I will remain faithful, but I would like to begin to take a moment to speak up when I discover a blatant contradiction.

I think it’s ridiculous to have a Dean’s List.

For that matter, it is equally humiliating to have grade cards at all.

It’s not that I think everybody needs a goose-up or a booster chair.

Other awards are just fine.

Competitions can be very beneficial—as long as we understand we’re actually competing instead of participating to the best of our ability.

I guess I always believed the goal in school was to learn.

In other words, teach the subjects, give the tests, determine the level of understanding, and then either pass the students on to the next grade or ask them to remain in the same classroom and help with redecoration.

What is the difference between an A and a B?

Astronomical. Just ask any child who’s expected to get an A and accidentally “let it B.”

How about between a B and a C?

Please remember that we refer to those who garner a C grade as being “average.” Such a flattering term. (In a room full of C’s, you would be hard to see.)

D: Isn’t that just dumb?

F—failure. Or if you’re emphatic—fucked.

Meanwhile, who’s learning what, and who can translate that knowledge into working life situations?

Are we graduating people from college needing another ten years of adjustment in the “real world,” before they can leave their family home and rent an apartment?

At one time, we tried to avoid teen marriages.

Now we’re recommending “waiting until you’re in your thirties.”

Why?

It’s the unspoken confession of the educational system, admitting it does not know if those who wear cap and gown are cognizant of much at all.

Let’s stop grading—because depending on who you are and where you are—it can be very degrading.

Crossed

Crossed: (v) to move past

The quality of your life is determined by how quickly you learn the lessons of life.

They happen quickly and after they’re done and the immediate classroom has been shut down, you have to decide whether you believe what you just experienced to be true, or if you thought it was a fluke and next time it might be better.

For a pessimist becomes so negative that he or she won’t even try something new, fearing that all conclusions in Earthly life are doomed.

A pragmatist has favored ideas to pursue, but once those are worn out, he or she is a little bit depleted in hopefulness because there doesn’t seem to be fresh things on the horizon.

An optimist holds to the “bad day” theory.

In other words, there was nothing missing with the plan, nothing wrong with the planners, nothing askew with the organization. It was just poor timing or a little “fritz in the glitz.”

There is another choice, you know:

I tried it; I gave it my best shot. It didn’t work. This is what I learned from it.

If you do this, once you’ve crossed a certain rickety bridge, you don’t ever have to try it again later to see if it’s gotten sturdier. You can trust your instincts, respect your emotions, listen to your spirit, remember the previous encounter in your mind and don’t take your ass anywhere near that defeat.

funny wisdom on words that begin with a C


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Classroom

Classroom: (n) a room, typically in a school

I wish they would have told us the truth.

I suppose they were afraid if we knew the truth, we might get discouraged. Maybe we’d give up.

For some reason, our teachers and school administrators thought it was best to dangle the possibility of growing up to be adults someday
instead of letting us know that “who we are now” is pretty much who we would end up being.

We might have spent more time trying to do better instead of sitting in the back of the classroom hiding, hoping no one would call on us, refusing to emerge from our turtle shell to become lions and tigers, yet knowing that such a position would be impossible unless there were evolutionary stages in between.

Yes, somewhere along the line, in that classroom, we needed to transition from single-cell organisms into a more complex species.

They didn’t tell us.

Maybe they were hoping that high school, church, tests, our first sexual encounters or even college would stir us to new awakenings.

But since we carried the same personality and fears into each opportunity, we came out almost every time with identical conclusions.

So the fourteen-year-old kid who’s insecure becomes the eighty-four-year-old woman who still wonders if she’s pretty.

It is a bucket of shit.

I know that sounds gross, but it is the only description I can give for thinking that you can “leave well enough alone,” and well enough will give you anything…but being alone.

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