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The Clock
As long as humans have seen the sun rise and set, they have had the urge to quantify time. While measuring time has evolved from the sun dial to the clock tower and eventually the wrist watch, humans continually seek to measure time. The most recent evolution of timekeeping can be seen in the iphone; now, you can simply pull out your phone and instantly see the time while also being able to call your girlfriend. Despite clocks seemingly going out of style, schools will always need them. In a place where teachers yell at you for looking at your phones, the old reliable analog clock must be hung up above the door so teachers know when to dismiss their class or when to give a tardy when a student comes late, even if only by a few seconds. In the numerous schools I’ve attended, the dusty analog wall clock remains constant.
As I stared up at the dusty clock that has probably been above the door in room 219 since the school was built, I tried to figure out how much longer I would have to listen about old, dead, men. The clock's hands let me know it was 2:45, only fifteen more minutes until I had freedom, at least until tomorrow. I stared up at my history teacher, Mr. Edge. He was once a prominent businessman on Wall Street. I often wondered if he also used to stare up at the clock in his fluorescent-lit office, bored out of his mind, waiting for the signal from the clock to leave.
Mr. Edge stood in the front of the class at the whiteboard, staring back at the endless rows of students facing him with blank stares. After years of inactivity at a desk, his stomach had grown too big to be trapped by his shirt. His underbelly escaped and visibly jiggled while he pointed to the timeline he’d copied from a book. Supposedly, staring at this timeline would cause us to become experts on Napoleonic history. I looked at the clock again; it was now 2:50, ten minutes until freedom.
After looking at the timeline some more, my teacher decided to give back our tests from the week before. Of course, these tests had grades to tell us if we had successfully memorized the material. When I got my test back, I quickly flipped it over to see an A+. Super, I thought without much enthusiasm; I was able to study all night and successfully memorize the timeline of the Revolutionary War since that was the topic of last week's class. Despite my success, I wouldn’t be able to recreate this timeline or even really discuss the topics covered. I smirked to myself; this must have been what Napolean felt like after winning that battle Mr. Edge was talking about. After slowly passing around the tests, he began to tell us our homework, but the clock beat him. It was now 3:00. He no longer had any control of me. I ran out of the class like a prisoner leaving jail after he finished his sentence. I knew that tonight, I would have to memorize the timeline we discussed in class to get a good grade and get into the college my parents wanted me to attend so that I would be able to get a good-paying job and continue to stare up at some old analog clock. Just another night of reading, but am I learning?
Throughout students’ careers at school, time serves as a means to keep track of the years until graduation. The endless hours that go by staring at the clock in a stuffy classroom while learning about history take away precious time for us to make our own.
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This piece explores the modern school system.