Finals week is here, and it’s not a favorite time of the year. All I hear from students seems to be “why are we doing this?” “what’s the point?” “I’m gonna fail” “I’m so stressed out.”
So what are the point of finals? Are they a measure of your intelligence or a measure of your study skills?
Maybe it’s meant to prepare you for college, or maybe the stress is nothing compared to that of the “real world.”
But why are we preparing for something everyone seems to be upset about? Why don’t we work to change the problem, not prepare for it?
I don’t know about you, but I think we could all work a little harder for a better world.
As I am writing this I have a million things rushing around in my brain.
Tomorrow I have an English final and I just realized that my grade hangs in the balance.
Finals week stresses me out.
During finals week, I sleep like a baby. If by a baby you mean waking up in the middle of the night crying, if I managed to get to sleep before the single beam of sunlight coming through my window decides to slap me in the face.
I have the unshakable feeling that I will fail no matter how hard I try. I study, drink too much coffee and red bull just to keep my burning, sleep deprived eyes open.
picture credit: tumblr.com
Then the final comes
You know that feeling of getting butterflies in your stomach? During finals week the butterflies turn into wasps.
The test gets handed out
Everything this semester has been leading up to this moment, and all of a sudden it’s finally here.
There is two hours on the clock. You look around at the poor children all around you, some of them with smiles and others with a single tear dripping on to their final.
Before you know it you have just word vomited everything you have learned in the past 4 months on to paper. Then it’s finally over
An eight night procession, filled with candles, presents, prayers, and good food that you later regret eating; also known as Hanukah. This tradition dating back hundreds of years is one representing the struggle for survival and the prevalence of hope. Families all over the world celebrate this eight night holiday tradition in remembrance of their ancestors. For most families, they either celebrate Hanukah or Christmas, but not both. I however, am lucky enough to be able to celebrate both.
I’ve grown up in a diverse family that has given me the opportunity to experience different types of religions and cultures. Some would say that I am a “bad Jew” for celebrating Christmas, but I don’t agree with that at all. I believe that celebrating Christmas does not make me a bad Jew, but a cultured Jew. Knowing more about different religions and traditions can only be beneficial. If people have a better understanding of others customs there will be more compassion, empathy and understanding in our world.
While this school tries to be open-minded and celebrate all religions, the celebrations always end up being geared toward the ever-popular Christmas. Our gift exchange is called “Secret Snowflake” as opposed to “Secret Santa,” though most seem to refer to it as the latter.
Our “holiday” decorations around the dorm consist of Christmas trees and stockings; the blue and white tinsel hidden behind the red and green. Gifts this time of year include mugs plastered with Santa’s face, as well as an abundance of tree ornaments.
We get a school break for Christmas, and while I’m not complaining at all (I’m always happy about time off) it would be nice to at least have my holiday recognized. While those who celebrate Christmas get to be at home with their families, I’m taking finals during the nights of Hanukkah.
As a very nonreligious person, I don’t find celebrating Hanukkah too important. Growing up, it was just a fun holiday, one my family and I would celebrate lightly, not worrying if we were busy one night. I don’t place too much value in it, I just find fun in lighting candles and playing dreidel.
But now on the fourth night of Hanukkah – halfway through – I haven’t lit candles once. I have yet this year to even see a menorah. There are people of all different religions at this school, and as a school without a religious affiliation, I think it would be nice to place equal importance in all holidays.
How is it possible that two people on the “Do Not Fly” list can purchase guns and ammunition?
How is it that these two people can then take those weapons to shooting ranges and practice for what would be another mass shooting?
How is it that there are loopholes like this in the system that can be so easily manipulated that 14 people loose their lives because these two dedicated terrorists decide to shoot up a building full of innocent people?
I don’t think anyone has answers, but I think it’s about time we figure out why this catastrophe was even possible.
The number of mass shootings that have occurred in the United States alone in the past year is ridiculous, people have such easy access to weapons that there is truly no border on what people can purchase.
We attempted to control the use of guns, but in all actuality, we are violating the second amendment in our Constitution.
So where is the middle? Where is there a safe, yet Constitution-abiding law that gives U.S. Citizens the right TO bear arms, but also puts a cap on who can purchase these deadly weapons?
I think we need to look deeper into the situation- if you are NOT a U.S. citizen, but live here, you should not be able to purchase a gun. If you have a past mental illness history, you should not be able to purchase a gun. If you are under the age of 18, you should not be able to purchase a gun.
This is all speculation.
Dealing with the issue of gun control and implementing laws that have the possibility of changing U.S. citizen’s second amendment rights is sensitive, but necessary for our safety.
I can pin point the exact moment my life fell apart.
10:27 AM. October 13. I was sketching on a large canvas laid out on the floor.
He was yelling about something she was standing there taking it. I could hear the rise and fall of his voice through my headphones. I looked down at my phone, 10:00 AM. I turned the volume up the last few notches.
I could still hear him. Getting angrier and angrier. I didn’t even know what it was about this time. The kids, the bills, pet peeves, anything seemed to set him at her throat these days.
I’d taken to calling it the Jack Torrance Effect. The only difference was there was no supernatural Overlook to blame, no alcohol withdrawal.
I was still waiting for the booming sound of a Roque mallet hitting the thin plaster walls.
I look down at the canvas. I’ve snapped my pencil against it. There’s no way to work with those two screaming next door. I pull my headphones out, the time is 10:15 AM. I grit my teeth and bang on the wall.
“STOP BEING IRRATIONAL AND JUST SHUT IT!”
“MIND YOUR OWN BUISNESS!!”
“I WOULD IF I COULD HEAR MYSELF THINK!”
“GLADLY IF YOU’D SHUT YOUR BIG FRICKEN MOUTH!”
I put my headphones back in. 10:20 AM. It was five minutes before something else set my symbolic Mr. Torrance off.
I could feel the blood boiling in my veins. I threw a shirt on attempted to rub some of the graphite off my finger tips and unfolded my numb legs.
I popped my jaw as I reached my door. The time, 10:26 AM.
“Honey I’ve been making dinner this whole time how would I have gotten to your phone?” A small voice stammers out.
“I DON’T KNOW WHY DON’T YOU EXPLAIN THAT TO ME?”
Ah so it was a phone this time. There’s a crash then a scraping noise. A drawer being violently pulled from its casing.
I pound on the door.
“OI YOU TWO TOSSERS IT’S A BLOODY SUNDAY COULD YOU PLEASE HOLD OFF FOR ONE DAY?”
The door is yanked open the hinges groaning. Door knob jumping.
On Saturday night, the second Kimye baby was brought into the world. At the time I am writing this the name of this baby boy is still unknown, but I really hope that his name is Easton because duh.
Although Easton’s, I will now on refer to him as Easton to put good vibes into the universe, will have Kanye’s great advice, I am here to give Easton some advice for life in the limelight, because obviously I am the best person to be telling him these thing.
1. Be careful with the faces you pull as a child
Your big sister North has given some great faces in her childhood years. These faces have spread across social media like wildfire. But if you want some of your funny faces plastered on screens across America, more power to you little guy, because Norths are pretty darn adorable.
2. Don’t let the kids on the playground push you around.
Your dad is Kanye West. No one can push you around because soon you may be part of the first family of the United States.
3. Take fashion advice from your parents.
Your parents go to probably hundreds of fashions shows, they know what looks good, but you can wear what you want. I’m just saying if I had that resource I would take advantage.
4. Have fun.
I know living life in the public eye will be difficult. Paparazzis are the worst, but try to ignore them. Live your life how you want to. Go jump on a trampoline or something, just jump around and enjoy life
5. Don’t let the haters get to you
Social media will be hard. There will be plenty of haters who say that your baby face isn’t cute enough, but don’t listen to them. Be you and let the haters see you prosper.
Now I realize that the West family are probably not reading this blog post, but if they are I’m happy to babysit anytime you want.