As I walk into class, the first thing to grasp my attention are the vibrant orange walls, reminding me of hot summer days and Creamsicles about to melt in my hand. While walking up to my seat, I see traces of work left behind, evidence of other students’ diligent work. Eye-catching and inspiring posters are spread across the walls, as well as old yearbooks utilized as inspiration for the one in progress, and cameras which had been used all day to capture life around campus. Just as I’m sitting down in my unofficial seat which I’ve been drawn to since the first day as it’s in a snug corner, I can’t help but detect the smell of a fresh floral scent.
“Good afternoon class, are we all tired today?” exclaims my journalism teacher, Mrs. Rodriguez, who’s always full of energy even though her class is always the last one of the day.
As everyone is indeed tired, she acquires no answers and grants us a couple of minutes to unwind. I turn my chair around, as it’s the type of chair you can spin on, adjust the height, and say to my friend: “I’m so tired.”
“Same, I had so much homework last night” she answers.
“I can’t wait for Friday…” I react to in response.
To me this is far from unusual, as we always have the same dialogue at this time of day, due to the fact that we’re drained and ready to go home.
I turn back to face one of the many desktop computers which have just recently been installed to accommodate every student in the class, in order to log into my account before we commence with our activities. The screen is clean, almost as though the plastic which always comes on new electronics has just been ripped off like a bandaid. The keyboard is manipulated easily, and as I apply my fingers on them, they make clicking sounds, which are oddly soothing.
Finally, Ms. Rodriguez terminates our brief recess.
“Okay class, today we’re going to be talking about issues going on at school. Can anyone give us an example?” she asks.
“The traffic at dismissal.” I utter. “That’s a good point!” She answers.
“What about it?”
“Well the traffic slows us down from getting home or to our extracurricular activities, and it even affects our community, as the traffic begins miles before the school entrance”.
“Any other examples?”
At this point, student voices fill the air like a deluge of water in a storm.
A volunteer frantically tries to scribble down all of the ideas on the large white board with a bright fuschia marker.
“Well the school wifi does not work well.”
“The classes are too long.,”
“I think advisory is unnecessary.”
“Okay class, now that we have all of these ideas, let’s start writing a commentary! It should be 500 words, and we’ll be submitting these to our first contest of the year,”Ms. Rodriguez notes.
As a low sigh travels through the class, Ms. Rodriguez briskly gets up, heads towards the light switch, dims the classroom lights, and begins to play soothing music in the background. Then she declares: “Don’t worry guys, you can have some snacks to give you a creative boost.”
As soon as she says that, I rush up to the table located in the middle of class, now filled with various containers of candy and snacks. The large colorful container of M&M’s draws me in. I take the metal scoop inside and serve myself a portion of chocolate pieces, clamoring against each other in my hand. As I look into the container I see the fusion of colors – green, red, yellow, orange, blue and brown. All of the sudden, as I devour the treats, I feel a rush of sudden inspiration.
I hurry back to the class computer, which is waiting for me with a bare and white document and start typing in a determined manner. While writing, all I hear are the rattling sounds of the keys as my classmates tap them. While sudden inspiration is flowing throughout the room, I realize how fortunate I am to find myself in such a classroom.
