"WHAT MAKES AMERICA GREAT?"
That's what is written on the whiteboard in my history class.
I sit in my seat, thinking about what on earth I can think up to write for this prompt. The problem with this for me, is that I truly don't see what really is great about America. Military, Army, Navy, and Veterans. That's all I can think of after sitting still for thirty minutes. Outside of that, I truly don't get what else is so great.
Unfortunately, my teacher doesn't see why I'm struggling. No one does. Everyone around us is too stuck on this concept of the 'American Dream' to realize that the world around us is a nightmare.
I go home every night to cry about my grades, because the numbers on a chart identify my value as a person. My best friend goes home and hovers over the toilet while shoving her fingers down her throat in an attempt to puke up whatever she ate that day, because she thinks she's too fat. The girl across the room from me goes home and eats everything in sight in an attempt to gain weight, because she doesn't want the boy next door to call her anorexic anymore. The gay boy next to me goes home and consumes any liquid or pill that'll take his pain away, because he doesn't want to wake up the next morning. The girl who was once confident in her sexuality now eats lunch in the bathroom stalls as her friends call her a slut in the other room. The quiet girl sits at a table alone, while she hears people yell 'prude' across the room. The boy in my Latin class doesn't even bother showing up anymore; he's sick of everyone making fun of how he smells. What they don't know is that his dad died and his family can't afford to pay the water bill.
My mother sits at home sobbing about another innocent black teen shot by the police. My dad goes to work and gets taunted about his job; what his peers don't know is that this job is all that keeps us on our feet. My sister goes to the mall, only to be followed around the store like a criminal due to her skin, while her white friends walk around as they please. The girl who got an abortion last year is hanging onto life by a string while people harass her every day, not knowing that she was raped. Her rapist walks the halls, claiming that she asked for it and didn't want to seem like a skank afterwards.
I saw the transgender girl crying the other day in the bathroom. She walked in and everyone told her 'no boys allowed, freak'. I would've cried, too.
So, enlighten me, how am I supposed to write about why America is great? How am I supposed to pretend as if I'm not disgusted by my own nation? I've yet to figure it out. One day, when America is truly great, maybe I will write about it. Until that day comes, I shall sit in my history class, awaiting this 'American Dream'.
That's what is written on the whiteboard in my history class.
I sit in my seat, thinking about what on earth I can think up to write for this prompt. The problem with this for me, is that I truly don't see what really is great about America. Military, Army, Navy, and Veterans. That's all I can think of after sitting still for thirty minutes. Outside of that, I truly don't get what else is so great.
Unfortunately, my teacher doesn't see why I'm struggling. No one does. Everyone around us is too stuck on this concept of the 'American Dream' to realize that the world around us is a nightmare.
I go home every night to cry about my grades, because the numbers on a chart identify my value as a person. My best friend goes home and hovers over the toilet while shoving her fingers down her throat in an attempt to puke up whatever she ate that day, because she thinks she's too fat. The girl across the room from me goes home and eats everything in sight in an attempt to gain weight, because she doesn't want the boy next door to call her anorexic anymore. The gay boy next to me goes home and consumes any liquid or pill that'll take his pain away, because he doesn't want to wake up the next morning. The girl who was once confident in her sexuality now eats lunch in the bathroom stalls as her friends call her a slut in the other room. The quiet girl sits at a table alone, while she hears people yell 'prude' across the room. The boy in my Latin class doesn't even bother showing up anymore; he's sick of everyone making fun of how he smells. What they don't know is that his dad died and his family can't afford to pay the water bill.
My mother sits at home sobbing about another innocent black teen shot by the police. My dad goes to work and gets taunted about his job; what his peers don't know is that this job is all that keeps us on our feet. My sister goes to the mall, only to be followed around the store like a criminal due to her skin, while her white friends walk around as they please. The girl who got an abortion last year is hanging onto life by a string while people harass her every day, not knowing that she was raped. Her rapist walks the halls, claiming that she asked for it and didn't want to seem like a skank afterwards.
I saw the transgender girl crying the other day in the bathroom. She walked in and everyone told her 'no boys allowed, freak'. I would've cried, too.
So, enlighten me, how am I supposed to write about why America is great? How am I supposed to pretend as if I'm not disgusted by my own nation? I've yet to figure it out. One day, when America is truly great, maybe I will write about it. Until that day comes, I shall sit in my history class, awaiting this 'American Dream'.
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