Flashbacks of Homeroom

Contrary to popular opinion, there were rare occasions in High School where I actually made it to Homeroom. Not on time, that never happened. But occasionally I would get there before it ended.

At that point, my High School had sold it's soul - or more accurately, was forcing the students to submit to twenty minutes of advertising in order to pay for televisions in the classroom. The same ten commercials would repeat themselves, day after day, until even those of us who skipped homeroom daily were chanting them on the way to first period swimming class (swimming was always scheduled for first period, because school administrators hate students).

Thankfully, the advertising was well controlled so that our young, impressionable minds wouldn't be subjected to the whims of corporate advertisements. For instance, we were inspired to Be Like Mike by chasing dreams of athletic prowess rather than academic achievement, all while drinking gallons of high fructose corn syrup. Sometimes we'd be inspired to follow our own dreams, not to be afraid of being different - like when Van Halen urged us to try Crystal Pepsi. (I think the lesson was that following our own dreams leaves a horrible aftertaste). And lest you think that this is a tirade against nonstop junkfood advertising in the classroom, let me say this: corporate America should be trusted with informing our youth about their nutrional choices. For instance, without those commercials, I never would've learned so much about how Tasty Doritos are when paired with a Pepsi. And, uh, I have good word that Doritos are fried in corn oil.


Corn is *definitely* a vegetable. I think. Sometimes it's tough to pay attention in biology when you're hungry and the vending machine is just outside the door. In any case I know things turned out well, because America's youth is slim and trim.




So what did we, the students whose very youth was bargained away under the guise of education, receive from be subjected to these wares? Television in the classroom. A lofty goal, methinks. I did learn that it's much easier to sleep through a Jets vs. Sharks dance-off than it is to read Shakespeare.

Education for the real world. That's gotta count for something.