School

I stumbled upon this article. In some town whose name I didn't catch, the daily newspaper publishes it every start of the school year.



"Summer died last night. Never mind the calendar date, and never mind what the meteorologists say about the autumn equinox. Summer went quietly, and its trappings with it.

While children slept, frayed cut-off denim shorts disappeared from bedposts to be replaced by stiff new jeans or slacks.

And lined up on the floor, shoes; shoes to imprison feet grown tough through a barefoot summer.

It all went so quickly; the bright green, blue and golden days, the soft windless nights punctuated by the gossip of tree toads and crickets. Now it is ended. Wind, sun and rain no longer matter. Now their days are ordered by unnatural things: buzzers, bells and disembodied voices coming from the walls.

What shall we do today?
You'll do what you're told, that's what. Thou shalt not run unless I tell you to run. But I ran all summer when I wanted to run.

Thou shalt not talk unless I tell you to talk. But in the summer when I had something to say, I said it.

Thou shalt not laugh unless you see that I am amused.

So the schools reclaim the children, taking them away from non-productive pursuits to Prepare Them For Life. And being children, they adjust.

Besides, it's not all unpleasant. There are old acquaintances to be renewed, summer experiences to be shared, and in the sharing a certain reliving of those precious hours. There are things to be learned, skills to be discovered and enhanced. Knowledge to be accumulated and stored until test time when it can be summoned up, set down and then forgotten to make room for more dispensable knowledge. And that is all for a purpose.

These are your most precious possessions, the educators say. Give them to us and we will give them back to you better than they were before. Maybe. Maybe not. No guarantee goes with the service. No warranty. No money back if not completely satisfied.

All that's certain is that there will be other summers. But this one's dead.

A yellow bus came in the early morning, its lights cutting through the thick gray fog, and carried summer away."