Refusal To Conform
Newcastle Herald
Thursday May 29, 2003
MONDAY morning, dreaming of Friday. Mrs Robins gained no pleasure from returning to Surfside High after a relaxing weekend. Frazzled, stressed and developing the ``school week" coffee dependency, she vented her anger on the usual student, Adam Wright. Today he had forgotten his assignment.
``Adam Wright! Out the front immediately! Now, what might your excuse be this time? Would you be so kind as to share it with the class?" She chugged another gulp of coffee.
Adam, displaying more angst than usual, swallowed his intensifying anger and began his long, humiliating walk to the front of the class. In his mind he had every reason not to complete his assignment. If anyone else were in his situation they would feel it too.
Conformity, relentless pressure, dysfunctional relationships, and that artificial ``check-out chick" smile. Adam, like most teenagers, was drowning in life and couldn't see land.
Conformity was the key. Wear the right gear, surf, use slang and you were accepted. For the meantime anyway. The ``gang" was everything to Adam. If you weren't with them, you were nobody.
Constant pressure from the family was eating away at him. ``What will you do when you leave school, Adam? Your brother scored distinctions in all of his uni courses. He is the best thing to come out of Surfside." The future seemed so distant.
The part-time job at the local grocery store, arranged by Dad of course (``you will gain experience, son") served more as a brain-washing facility than as a window into the workforce.
Countless videos on consumer appreciation, developing that ``I care" attitude, learning the check-out catch phrases (``Have a nice day! Would you like help to your car? Oh, sorry that was my fault, the smashed eggs. Let me get you a replacement"). Artificial smiles and welcomes, imitation attitudes. Adam couldn't believe how superficial the public was. Education and the phoney public controlled Adam's life.
Step by step, Adam trudged to the front of the room. With every step, an emotion refined, intensifying to the point of eruption. Adam couldn't take another person controlling his life, he couldn't say one more ``Have a nice day". For once, Adam wanted to express what he felt.
Tunnel vision, eye on the target, Adam felt the blood pulsating through his veins. Adrenaline bursts, wrenching in the stomach, cold sweat across his brow. He forgot about his assignment but remembered his pain. This was Adam's time to tell someone what he thought.
Silence. Inhale. The class held their breath, watching in disbelief as Adam pulled the threads to his emotional patchwork, unravelling years of silence and resentment.
``You know what's wrong with teachers these days? It's been too long since you were my age. Did you ever work while studying at school, MISS? I bet you didn't! You know what? I bet you haven't experienced half the things I've been through. When was the last time you had to change your life and be the conformist? When was the last time you spent a week studying for a physics test just to equal your brother's score? Why the regretful expression there, Miss? Isn't this what you wanted? Didn't you want me humiliated in front of the class; use me as the `don't be like this' model? Well, you're right. Nobody should be like this. Nobody should be subjected to what I'm put through. I'm sick of being in this position. I'm sick of being seen through. I'm sick of everyone being so superficial. And I'm sick of you!"
Without delay, in his reckless, tempestuous state, Adam burst out of the classroom, leaving all in utter shock.
Rumours reverberated around the playground, twisting and transforming from mind to mouth.
``Hey Sophie, did you hear about Adam? I heard he had a meltdown last period and started a fight with the teacher!"
``Sick!"
``Yeah, Daniel told me he was in his class and he was actually scared. It was full on. Intense as!"
``Wish I was there!"
``Hey, can't wait to call Adam tonight."
© 2003 Newcastle Herald