Challenges at School - Term Paper Example

Masks Being a high school has always, and shall possibly forever, imply limited freedom as far as fun is concerned. The challenges experienced by students in school remain unknown until one falls a victim. I remember those days after I completed my primary level education. It felt so nice to have completed what, then, seemed the hardest education ever. I eagerly waited for the day I would join secondary school and experience different challenges and meet new friends. My, then, young mind imagined that secondary school would be full of fun and memorable experiences. I imagined meeting new friends and acquiring all the freedom in the world. I believe this is what many people still imagine before joining high school. Ask anybody if you ever get the chance and you will most probably prove me right. The long awaited day soon came and I was accompanied to my new school by my father. I always believed that I was his favorite child because I more often than not accompanied him to all places, and unlike my sisters and my other brother, he accompanied me to my new school singly. He must have been the tallest man in the Yorkshire area because I never saw anyone greet him without having to bend low, nor did I ever see him enter any house without bending his head, however slightly. The principal of my new school was a short bald-headed man. He looked so mean and I hated him at once. He was seated at the middle of a large room, a laptop on the table in front of him, and several forms on his right hand side. He had a large belly that touched the hedge of the table. After a thirty-minute talk and other formalities, I was officially admitted to the school and my father left. I felt my body shrivel and a fear ran down my spine. I controlled tears from running down my face. A week later, I was accustomed to the life of the place. Though it was not as I expected, I learned to love it altogether. Little did I know that I was to be chosen as the school’s spy. Whatever, criteria was used to have me chosen has been beyond my knowledge to date. As a spy, I would be an obvious target and would be baited if the other students came to learn of it. I, therefore, tried all I could to ensure that no one, even my closest friends, came to learn of it. However, to my disappointment, some students knew about it and spread the news to the rest of the students. This was so upsetting and perplexing. I would have wished to quit, but there were several privileges that I enjoyed that held me firmly to the task. Secretly, and theoretically of course, I would inform the head teacher of any evil plans within the school, or even of any crimes already committed or due. I hated, and shall forever hate the role I played more than any words can explain. I was hated by almost all students within the school. Most students sneered at me whenever I passed and made mocking sounds towards me. I was stuck in the midst of the office I served, and my anger against the students who tried to make my role impossible. As much as I was hated by most students, I still had faithful and close friends I would rely on. However, it was difficult for me to trust them wholly because they could well have evil plans. Nevertheless, I tried the much I could to save them whenever there was trouble. This, I felt compelled to do to secure a place in their friendship. I knew it was not right, but I had to do it anyway. One day, something I least expected happened. It was an incident that gave me a better understanding of the real scenery of hatred. It was late at night when all students were expected to be in their beds. I had come to learn that most of the evil plans within the school were planned and carried out at this time of the night. There had been peace and everything had been smooth for the past few weeks. I therefore, did not expect any trouble that night or the rest of the week. I therefore, retired to my bed. Before I could fall asleep, my cell phone (one of the privileges I enjoyed) rang. “Would you please come and rescue me?” was the voice on the other side of the line. The caller gave me directions to where he was. In the company of two other students, we ran as fast as we could. We were shocked to realize that the teacher was seriously injured. It was during the dry season and his clothes and body were all covered with soil. He was lying on his back with arms tied together. He grinded his teeth and breathed deeply as an expression of anguish. I wonder why people say seriously injured people look peaceful. Most of those that I have seen look devilish. Before we could make a decision on what step to take, the place was swamped with students in their attempt to see what had happened. I called the school ambulance and he was taken to the hospital. I was afterward, expected to give a report of what had taken place to the head teacher. With the account given to me by the teacher, the responsible students were my closest friends, Viking and Jones. I was told to pick the students responsible for the incident later the next day from the entire school. I looked at the ocean of students before me, who, at the same time, gazed at me as they would gaze at a magician about to execute a trick. They obviously did not like me, but with the puzzle at hand, I was worth staring. Suddenly, I comprehended that I had to do something. After what seemed like eternity, I decided that I had to act in accordance with what was right, irrespective of what it would cost me. With my eyes closed, I called out their names. Some students clapped, while others shouted names. I decided that I could take no more of the commotion and decided to go away. I have always hoped that everyone understood that I did that because I simply had to. Being a spy was a mask that significantly destroyed my freedom in secondary school, though I still had to wear it. Work cited Orwell, George. Shooting an elephant and other essays. 2003. 1-200. Print. Read More