Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Putting the "Dolt" Back in "A-Dolt Education"
Or, suffer the little children (and adolescents).
I signed up back in June for a course offered by the Wellesley recreation department on how to improve your conversational skills. I thought it would be nifty, because I'm going to be sharing by dorm at Emerson with five other guys and... well, Asperger's. Anyway, last Wednesday, I show up for the first class at 7:00 PM. The instructor, on the other hand? Doesn't. I wait... and wait... and wait. Eventually, a classmate (Karen, a software engineer) shows up. We talk about lives, college, etc., until 7:35 rolls around and we say, "Screw it," and go home. The next day, I get a call from the teacher, who says that he thought the class was on Thursday.
Think about that: a man plots out a course, an action which must take months to complete. He puts the course in the adult ed program, where it sits for at least two months. And only on the day before his class starts does he think to check twice?
Still, I was forgiving, as he offered to reschedule the class. So, Monday, I show up. There are a few neat tricks that'll probably help me, should I be able to recall them at the right time. So, tonight, I show up for my second class, hoping I'll be able to embody my techniques successfully.
Only problem is, everything's locked up. I can't get in the building, be it through front door, side door, or back door. After five minutes of struggling, I give up and walk home.
So. Here's what my town, which supposedly has one of the best public education programs in the country, which draws sprog-hopeful adults to it like supermodels to cocaine, has to offer for children:
-No movie theatres.
-No arcades.
-No comic book shops.
-No real shopping centres.
-A skate park that will likely never materialize.
-A $2 million rec program that can't find its own ass with two hands and a lighthouse.
See? When it comes to kids, my town is stagnating. Hell, this is a town that, one hundred years ago, had its own amusement park. Now? Not even a candy store. I mean, the kids in Derry had a more idyllic small town experience, and they had to fend off an evil clown.
It's not that I hate my town. I mean, it's a nice enough place, but I think it would be nice to raise a kid somewhere where he can do stuff on his own.
I signed up back in June for a course offered by the Wellesley recreation department on how to improve your conversational skills. I thought it would be nifty, because I'm going to be sharing by dorm at Emerson with five other guys and... well, Asperger's. Anyway, last Wednesday, I show up for the first class at 7:00 PM. The instructor, on the other hand? Doesn't. I wait... and wait... and wait. Eventually, a classmate (Karen, a software engineer) shows up. We talk about lives, college, etc., until 7:35 rolls around and we say, "Screw it," and go home. The next day, I get a call from the teacher, who says that he thought the class was on Thursday.
Think about that: a man plots out a course, an action which must take months to complete. He puts the course in the adult ed program, where it sits for at least two months. And only on the day before his class starts does he think to check twice?
Still, I was forgiving, as he offered to reschedule the class. So, Monday, I show up. There are a few neat tricks that'll probably help me, should I be able to recall them at the right time. So, tonight, I show up for my second class, hoping I'll be able to embody my techniques successfully.
Only problem is, everything's locked up. I can't get in the building, be it through front door, side door, or back door. After five minutes of struggling, I give up and walk home.
So. Here's what my town, which supposedly has one of the best public education programs in the country, which draws sprog-hopeful adults to it like supermodels to cocaine, has to offer for children:
-No movie theatres.
-No arcades.
-No comic book shops.
-No real shopping centres.
-A skate park that will likely never materialize.
-A $2 million rec program that can't find its own ass with two hands and a lighthouse.
See? When it comes to kids, my town is stagnating. Hell, this is a town that, one hundred years ago, had its own amusement park. Now? Not even a candy store. I mean, the kids in Derry had a more idyllic small town experience, and they had to fend off an evil clown.
It's not that I hate my town. I mean, it's a nice enough place, but I think it would be nice to raise a kid somewhere where he can do stuff on his own.
Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home
<< Home
