![]() ![]() You want to know what kind of school you get when you apply that thinking to the modern workplace? Capitalists watched socialism rising up across the world and they designed American schools to ensure it would not happen here. It was designed to repress individual thinking and to increase dependence. It was designed by factory owners with the express purpose of quelling working class revolt before it happened. It was designed to indoctrinate children so that they would not complain about the dangerous, monotonous industrial work ahead of them. The American school system wasn’t designed to prepare young adults to enter the work force as free and independent agents. I keep seeing this reblogged as if that system were ever a good and positive thing for children. The problem with American schools is that they’re preparing us for jobs that no longer exist. The problem with American schools is not that they’re not like Finnish schools. What’s wrong with American schools is that they’re an outdated relic of the early 20th century, where the object was to train a child to have the mindset required to work in a factory job long hours of the day, as at the time that mandatory public school was instituted, that was the main expectation of children.Īs the industrial age faded and the US entered the era of private sector jobs, the education system failed to reflect that change, and they’re still training us to have the mindset for an industrial job, not a job in today’s job market. ![]() ![]() What’s actually wrong with American schools is not that they’re not like Finnish schools. It’s also because all teachers there have masters’ degrees, and teaching is seen as a prestigious profession like medicine or law. It looks like in Finland they’re treated like actual humans. Instead of treating kids like machines in a factory, being created into obedient workers. I ask you this, in return: Do you not see the answer? A heart is a heavy burden.We won’t learn, because our education system sucks How can this greeting be one of familiarity? He is at once a god of immense power and a humble beast reliant upon his heart. Yet, he trembles at the touch of a hand upon his cheek and the gaze of the one he has lost. He can crush mountains and hold a sun within his palm. He dreads the feeling of echoing grief and so so deep trembling aching fe a r that resides within his very being. The pride of his men, the loss of his father/brother/life, the weight of his fate and the power he wields in hand and voice and heart. He experiences, with his whole being, the sheer life force of the universe he lives in. He is a soldier, a man of barely 21, in grief and in growth and fear. I could not remain distant as I so often did.Įven if I seek to run, I often come face to face with myself in the end. Tonight, the transaction of feeling was not the normal give and take. Of the unrealistic hopes, of the dreamers, of the fantasies far away. ![]() It eases it, a bit, to feel things not of my own. I’ve been reading, as I so frequently do when my lungs become too small for the breaths I cannot take. Until I was numb, and my gaze felt distant, and I didn’t feel so much. I would clench the fist in my lap and will the white hot fear blossoming in my stomach to fade away. I would have my eyes on the classroom chalkboard and think- not again. The overwhelming embrace of true feeling. The hotness of your skin, the clenched teeth and the blurriness of your vision. The tightness of your throat, the stinging of your eyes, the trembling of your fingers. You know that feeling in your chest? The one where, when you press your hand to the warmth there, you feel as if an entire galaxy is setting your ribcage ablaze? As if a beast is howling in your lungs? ![]()
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