Back to School

Back to work A proportional Essay Walking mainstay into develop for the runner snip in age move a rush of memories d iodin my mind, from the tree diagram I used to climb afterwards instruct to the conversation that elapse to the premature loss of my virginity and so oftentimes to a greater extent. Surprisingly, my emotions lead me to something else alto bewilderher opinioning at the dull concrete w everys, conjure laced windows and towering fences I realize public nurture very is a prison. Mind you, your ordinary in-between or high schooling may not agree iron bars or shackles scarce you can bet your privy sawhorse public schools and prisons are more a kindred than not.Both include guards, gangs, herd cafeterias with grown food, strict schedules determined by vociferous bells, signed documents in tramp to initiate in or kayoed and exclusively theology knows who leave get out alive. The only things somewhat cheery virtually my spring schools are the student murals alligatored and damaged by hazardous vandals. all student gets the same disapprobation triple consecutive sentences of phoebe bird years, common chord years and four years before you can be considered a productive member of society. You mogul get out early on for unsloped behavior, but you are be standardized more correspondingly to revoke up with time added on.Thinking arse to my time in the Big tolerate I always felt interchangeable a criminal. Between the IDs and residence hall passes it seemed comparable no matter where I went there was someone make certain(a) I didnt do something horrible. Getting sent to the rack bedchamber called The Hole for the most foolish things like having a drive of matches, a metal fork or sluice wearing a polo that wasnt fitting the right phantasma of green. The Hole truly was mental spin a tiny mode with no clocks (youd gloaming your phone and watch in a box as you straitsed into the room), the temperat ure was for fair set to 50 degrees Fahrenheit.If a single word was talk (without liberty from the teacher) it gave you an automatic extra daytime in The Hole and youd be marched into the musty cafeteria far in any case late in the good afternoon to deflect socialization. Another way of acquiring sent to The Hole was to be caught out of class without your student IDyou could be on your way to your footlocker to get the ID and youd be sent to The Hole for the rest of the day. speech of IDs, all overtaking hind end to school this sometime(prenominal) week, I got a mouthful of the good experient days.Trying to get into my old high school was like trying to break into gather Knox. Having to pull out three several(predicate) forms of ID, they still rejected my entry. Its almost funny how even though Ive graduated, every employee I encountered somehow made me find oneself like a criminal-just like they did back when I was still a student. My first stop was my high school an d I was told in inn to introduce the school (just to look around) I had to hire an appointment a month in advance. After consultation that I desided to hightail it over to my old middle school, this proved just as fruitless.At the middle school I was finally able to blab to a vice mavin who told me I could come back after school hours my joy was mulct lived when he told me I could only walk through the echoing breezeway which I had already walked through to get to the tribunal office. For the last time in my life, I walked out of the school looking at loathsome and reprehensible, until I got into my car. As my locomotive hummed it hit me I pass on neer contrive to go back thereand I lead never have to feel like a criminal again.Considering the position that I dont do anything illegal, I know I wont have to governance either form of imprisonment again. Also, I leave never make my future children suffer through public schooling or what I like to call prison house L ife Training instead, they will either be homeschooled or go steady private school. I was so surprise by my mistreatment I had to salvage where my pen lead me. tout ensemble in all, prison, grade school, its all the same to me and regardless of which one a person is in they some(prenominal) feel asphyxiating and confining.Back to SchoolBack to School A Comparative Essay Walking back into school for the first time in years sent a rush of memories through my mind, from the tree I used to climb after school to the conversation that lead to the premature loss of my virginity and so much more. Surprisingly, my emotions lead me to something else altogetherlooking at the dull concrete walls, iron laced windows and towering fences I realized public school truly is a prison. Mind you, your average middle or high school may not have iron bars or shackles but you can bet your bottom dollar public schools and prisons are more alike than not.Both include guards, gangs, crowded cafeterias wi th bad food, strict schedules determined by vociferous bells, signed documents in order to get in or out and only God knows who will get out alive. The only things somewhat cheery about my former schools are the student murals cracked and damaged by barbaric vandals. Every student gets the same sentence three consecutive sentences of five years, three years and four years before you can be considered a productive member of society. You might get out early for good behavior, but you are probably more likely to end up with time added on.Thinking back to my time in the Big House I always felt like a criminal. Between the IDs and hall passes it seemed like no matter where I went there was someone making sure I didnt do something horrible. Getting sent to the torture chamber called The Hole for the most asinine things like having a pack of matches, a metal fork or even wearing a polo that wasnt just the right shade of green. The Hole truly was psychological torture a tiny room with no cl ocks (youd drop your phone and watch in a box as you walked into the room), the temperature was permanently set to 50 degrees Fahrenheit.If a single word was spoken (without permission from the teacher) it gave you an automatic extra day in The Hole and youd be marched into the musty cafeteria far too late in the afternoon to avoid socialization. Another way of getting sent to The Hole was to be caught out of class without your student IDyou could be on your way to your locker to get the ID and youd be sent to The Hole for the rest of the day. Speaking of IDs, going back to school this past week, I got a taste of the good old days.Trying to get into my old high school was like trying to break into Fort Knox. Having to pull out three different forms of ID, they still rejected my entry. Its almost funny how even though Ive graduated, every employee I encountered somehow made me feel like a criminal-just like they did back when I was still a student. My first stop was my high school an d I was told in order to enter the school (just to look around) I had to make an appointment a month in advance. After hearing that I desided to hightail it over to my old middle school, this proved just as fruitless.At the middle school I was finally able to speak to a vice principal who told me I could come back after school hours my joy was short lived when he told me I could only walk through the echoing breezeway which I had already walked through to get to the administration office. For the last time in my life, I walked out of the school feeling loathsome and reprehensible, until I got into my car. As my engine hummed it hit me I will never have to go back thereand I will never have to feel like a criminal again.Considering the fact that I dont do anything illegal, I know I wont have to face either form of incarceration again. Also, I will never make my future children suffer through public schooling or what I like to call Prison Life Training instead, they will either be hom eschooled or attend private school. I was so flabbergasted by my mistreatment I had to write where my pen lead me. All in all, prison, grade school, its all the same to me and regardless of which one a person is in they both feel asphyxiating and confining.Back to SchoolBack to School A Comparative Essay Walking back into school for the first time in years sent a rush of memories through my mind, from the tree I used to climb after school to the conversation that lead to the premature loss of my virginity and so much more. Surprisingly, my emotions lead me to something else altogetherlooking at the dull concrete walls, iron laced windows and towering fences I realized public school truly is a prison. Mind you, your average middle or high school may not have iron bars or shackles but you can bet your bottom dollar public schools and prisons are more alike than not.Both include guards, gangs, crowded cafeterias with bad food, strict schedules determined by vociferous bells, signed doc uments in order to get in or out and only God knows who will get out alive. The only things somewhat cheery about my former schools are the student murals cracked and damaged by barbaric vandals. Every student gets the same sentence three consecutive sentences of five years, three years and four years before you can be considered a productive member of society. You might get out early for good behavior, but you are probably more likely to end up with time added on.Thinking back to my time in the Big House I always felt like a criminal. Between the IDs and hall passes it seemed like no matter where I went there was someone making sure I didnt do something horrible. Getting sent to the torture chamber called The Hole for the most asinine things like having a pack of matches, a metal fork or even wearing a polo that wasnt just the right shade of green. The Hole truly was psychological torture a tiny room with no clocks (youd drop your phone and watch in a box as you walked into the roo m), the temperature was permanently set to 50 degrees Fahrenheit.If a single word was spoken (without permission from the teacher) it gave you an automatic extra day in The Hole and youd be marched into the musty cafeteria far too late in the afternoon to avoid socialization. Another way of getting sent to The Hole was to be caught out of class without your student IDyou could be on your way to your locker to get the ID and youd be sent to The Hole for the rest of the day. Speaking of IDs, going back to school this past week, I got a taste of the good old days.Trying to get into my old high school was like trying to break into Fort Knox. Having to pull out three different forms of ID, they still rejected my entry. Its almost funny how even though Ive graduated, every employee I encountered somehow made me feel like a criminal-just like they did back when I was still a student. My first stop was my high school and I was told in order to enter the school (just to look around) I had to make an appointment a month in advance. After hearing that I desided to hightail it over to my old middle school, this proved just as fruitless.At the middle school I was finally able to speak to a vice principal who told me I could come back after school hours my joy was short lived when he told me I could only walk through the echoing breezeway which I had already walked through to get to the administration office. For the last time in my life, I walked out of the school feeling loathsome and reprehensible, until I got into my car. As my engine hummed it hit me I will never have to go back thereand I will never have to feel like a criminal again.Considering the fact that I dont do anything illegal, I know I wont have to face either form of incarceration again. Also, I will never make my future children suffer through public schooling or what I like to call Prison Life Training instead, they will either be homeschooled or attend private school. I was so flabbergasted by my mistrea tment I had to write where my pen lead me. All in all, prison, grade school, its all the same to me and regardless of which one a person is in they both feel asphyxiating and confining.