Like most broke artists with no level of success to speak of at all, I work a couple of jobs that have nothing to do with anything I actually want to do. Actually, that may not be true: one of my dream jobs is acting, and everyday I have to act like I’m happy. So there’s that, I guess.
One of my dreams (among a bunch of shit: magazine editor, filmmaking, screenwriting, acting, comedy, rapper, fashion designer, professional racecar driver, pornstar) has always been to become a successful author of great works of fiction. In the 90s that might have been lucrative, but we might be living in one of the least literate times ever right now; people are reading in short bursts rather than longer forms of fiction because who the fuck has time for that? I still write in my spare time, because I hope people fall in love with my work when I’m dead. And I don’t really give a shit what other people think of me. That type of arrogance is cute and all, but it doesn’t pay bills.
That leads me to taking a bunch of jobs. One of those being teaching. It isn’t a terrible route to take; you get to help mold the future to a certain extent, etc. Even though I’m just one person and I genuinely don’t think one person really makes a difference on the grand scale of things, it’s nice to sometimes think I could be affecting someone’s life profoundly. Although I am aware I am nothing on earth at the end of the day, I sometimes fantasize about some person coming up to me when I’m older and saying, “Hey, even though your life didn’t end up anywhere and we are in this bar right now and you’re drinking alone and I’m drinking with important Hollywood producers, you changed my life. I became the CEO of Netflix thanks to your guidance! Whatever happened to your writing, teach, do you have any screenplays you’re proud of?”
To be completely honest, I strongly agree with Ryan Gosling’s character’s sentiment in Half Nelson: I’m just one guy. What can I do? You do what you can, but at the end of the day you have to move on. Some kid throws a chair at another kid: you can only deal with that in school. But when he gets home and his single mother (who also mysteriously happens to be pregnant again because she can’t seem to let go of her Christian ideals that every pregnancy is a gift, continuing an unfortunate cycle) lets him play GTA 5 from 4pm until it’s time to leave for school the next day because she’s exhausted.....how can I compete with that? There are forces greater than what I can accomplish for these kids. It’s depressing, but that’s the sad reality of the public school system.
Anyway, one way I would truly like to make a difference in the world of teaching is the common thing I’m seeing where everyone seems to lack leadership. Let me be clear: I don’t mean everyone should have everything figured out all the time. But there are constantly basic things younger students have problems with.
For example, “telling” on someone for the most frivolous shit. A student borrows another student’s pencil for two seconds and the whole world ends now. When I was younger my house got broken into and the thieves stole the PS2 I had just gotten the month before for my birthday. They tortured me even further by actually leaving all the games behind so I could see all the cool things I would never get to play ever again.
When I asked my parents if we would be getting a new one they straight up told me no. I remember crying in the shower as a kid like a little bitch and thinking to myself, “Why is life so unfair? Is this what life is like? How the fuck am I gonna go back to playing with my action figures now when I have experienced the joys of ‘ATV Offroad Fury’? These people expect me to use my imagination again? Are they serious?” Years later when I turned 25, I worked a bunch of different jobs and bought myself a PS4. My father saw me playing with it one day and nonchalantly just said, “You bought a PS4? Nice,” as if he didn’t totally teach me a life lesson years earlier. You see where I’m getting with this? Life works itself out.
Something I truly dislike about teaching is the fact that 90% of it seems to be giving kids permission to use the bathroom. What kind of society are we where someone has to literally ask permission to fucking perform a bodily function that only affects them? Whenever a kid asks me to use the bathroom I always think, “What would you do if I said no? Would you shit your pants because of an authority figure? Fuck that, you don’t need anyone’s permission. Go.” The reasoning behind getting “permission” to use the bathroom is obvious on the surface: so that there aren’t a million kids in the hallways who lied about having to use the bathroom so they could fool around with their friends. But why can’t we give people the benefit of the doubt? We need to allow people to fuck up more and think for themselves. We learn in life by fucking up and getting shit we didn’t ask for handed to us on a plate (so the next time that happens you can use what you learned the previous time to your advantage).
When I was in grade 6 I remember I asked a supply teacher to use the bathroom one day and she said, “No. Sit down at your desk. This is a mini-detention, the whole classroom has to be quiet for the next 10 minutes.” I must have sat down for 2 before I realized, “This bitch doesn’t have to deal with wet Fruit of the Looms, I do!” So I got up and used the bathroom anyway as she yelled at me to come back to class. When I got back to class she got me “in trouble” for disobeying her, but it was fucking worth it.
That’s what I think is lacking in education, a “think for yourself” mentality is incredibly valuable. A lot of people are lacking balls, and everyone is super big on feelings now. I understand that keeping shit bottled up inside is not healthy, but there really should be a balance. My grandfather was one of those guys who never told my father he loved him, and constantly made fun of me growing up. If it wasn’t my dark skin it was my height. Or he’d just flat out tell me to, “Shut up.” His approach is clearly not the right one, but aside from a cynical outlook in life I turned out fine is all I’m saying. I really do think there needs to be a healthy balance of teaching kids today all of the pussified generation stuff/being in touch with their feelings......as well as making sure they grow up to be properly tough.
When I was in high school and some cunt called me a midget or an Oompa Loompa it felt absolutely terrible. I mean, I seriously wanted to kill myself for most of my teens. Not exaggerating that for the purpose of this stupid website either: I fucking hated life. I would take the subway home everyday and daydream about fucking jumping in front of it. To this day I am still very suspicious when someone is nice to me. It was only years later (after University) I actually remembered how great life could be. But anyway, my point is: how are these kids today gonna grow if every single time something bad happens a teacher or a parent has to get involved? Real life does not care about your safe spaces or trigger warnings.
Once when I was a kid a group of older kids roughed me up, pushing me down to the grassy football field of our elementary school. They sort of took off my pants and laughed at my Barney underpants until recess was over. I must have been about 5 or 6. I still remember their names, I see them periodically at the grocery store in my area, and I get Nam flashbacks like it’s a fucking Louis Malle movie about growing up. Although I do still harbor some resentment toward them and hope they get a new form of AIDS, I should write them all thank you cards. Now when I’m walking around downtown and a homeless guy calls me a nigger because I’m in a rush and politely reject him? That’s an L I am 100% prepared for. It feels bad, but that’s fucking life. I think, “This is nothing, I got the shit kicked out of me when I was in grade 1. This homeless guy can’t do SHIT to me. Plus I have a nicer beard.”
I’m being somewhat silly here, but I really do think this kind of sensitivity thing is representative of education as a whole. It has its pros and cons, but we may be training kids to be pussies who can’t think for themselves.
Here’s another quick story I want to leave you with: once when I was a kid, I called my cousin an idiot. We got into an argument about something or the other and I couldn’t take it anymore and just resorted to an ad hominem attack (like many adults do, I should add). He started whining and ran to my grandfather to tell him what I said. Fearing I’d get in trouble, I listened closely through a wall to hear what my grandfather’s reaction would be. The exchange went down like this, VERBATIM:
“Grandpa, Larry called me an idiot!”
“He what?”
“He called me an idiot!”
“So what!? You ARE an idiot!”
I just want to leave you with that; when I was a kid you could literally get in trouble for ratting on someone who WAS THE PERSON IN THE WRONG. It is a great lesson to learn as you prepare for adulthood: life sucks and it isn’t fair. Complaining about it doesn’t help either. Fuck your complaints, they don’t work. Figure out what does.
