The student
Sep. 17th, 2008 08:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
searingedrockIn school the enemy is heat. Girls and boys walk under a canopy of heat until bit by bit, below the weight of books and bags they droop lower and lower, passing each other in a daze and greeting each other with grimaces, squinting and sweating. The student wonders why there is no bus to take him around campus, no water fountain to ease his thirst, no air conditioning inside his classrooms, why the library has no books and why there are pages torn out of the rest. He wonders why tutors can mark his essays at will based on personal likes and dislikes.
There is a peaceful protest outside the administrative building. The students stand patiently, jovially in front of the building with placards and bottles of water. They show up and leave to go to classes, and return nonchalantly. The leader advises them to be calm and collected, not to lose their tempers. He reminds them of the 70s and those students who rebelled during the black power movement and sat their exams in Carrera, the island prison. Dedication for the right, he says. Sacrifice.
Standing to observe are the press. Local television reporters waiting for their turn. Students say they are tired of being robbed and made fools of. The picketing makes the evening news. The Guild elections are re-held, and the opposing slate wins. Things are different, things are being done. There are lectures, speakeasies, performances, solutions. Questions answered. Redress. It lasts for one year. After graduation the New Guild assumes power, and it is just as before.
The student looks at his island which is the outer peel of this core. He understands many things now. Around University drive he glimpses the Principal of the University, driving in a very elegant, European car, to be swallowed behind trimmed hedges and white wrought iron gates. He shoulders his bag more firmly over his sweaty shoulders, placing one foot before the other, walking slowly beneath a burning sun.
There is a peaceful protest outside the administrative building. The students stand patiently, jovially in front of the building with placards and bottles of water. They show up and leave to go to classes, and return nonchalantly. The leader advises them to be calm and collected, not to lose their tempers. He reminds them of the 70s and those students who rebelled during the black power movement and sat their exams in Carrera, the island prison. Dedication for the right, he says. Sacrifice.
Standing to observe are the press. Local television reporters waiting for their turn. Students say they are tired of being robbed and made fools of. The picketing makes the evening news. The Guild elections are re-held, and the opposing slate wins. Things are different, things are being done. There are lectures, speakeasies, performances, solutions. Questions answered. Redress. It lasts for one year. After graduation the New Guild assumes power, and it is just as before.
The student looks at his island which is the outer peel of this core. He understands many things now. Around University drive he glimpses the Principal of the University, driving in a very elegant, European car, to be swallowed behind trimmed hedges and white wrought iron gates. He shoulders his bag more firmly over his sweaty shoulders, placing one foot before the other, walking slowly beneath a burning sun.
