When we were kindergartners, they promised us the world. Our teachers – they looked like giants back then – told us that our education was sacred and that, twelve years from that moment, we’d value it more than anything.

When we were kindergartners, we believed them. But here we stand, a decade and then some in the future and with nothing sacred to speak of.

Like almost a thousand of my fellow juniors, I am on the cusp. We stand on the edge of this cliff and look down into nothingness. There is just one hectic year between us and our graceless entrances into the so-called “real world.”

But there are things that they didn’t tell us in kindergarten. When they said they’d prepare us for the real world, they meant they’d systematically shape us to be the next generation of workers, upholding the shoddy economy and making sure that age-old, stagnant procedures are followed for ages to come.

I am on the cusp, and I am questioning almost everything about the last decade of my life. It’s scary to admit, but what I’m quickly realizing is that my time has been wasted.

Not all of it, mind you. I could never speak ill about any of the brilliant teachers who guided me along, and I could never deny that there have been experiences that have changed me for the better - for good. 

 I’ve learned so much. Almost none of it, though, has come from textbooks or has been asked of me on standardized tests.

In traditional classrooms, I learned most on the days where we sat in circles and discussed books or ideas. Discussion humanizes where all things standardized do the opposite.

Then there were the non-traditional classrooms. 

In newspaper, the daily routine might involve peer-editing stories, discussing current events, trying to figure out who stole the blue pens and persuading someone to make coffee. This format could very well be scoffed at by people in suits and ties, but it is what made me the person I am today.

For two hours every other weekday, I’ve been able to do what I love. It resulted in a passion so strong that I’ve found myself spending more time in the newsroom – during class, between classes, during lunch, before school, after school – than I do consciously in my own home. I’ve enjoyed every second of it.

It is that non-traditional classroom experience that has ultimately driven me to pursue journalism. I’ve started already. From working social media for non-profit organizations to participating in Florida-wide conventions, from applying to prestigious university programs to being able to interview acclaimed directors, newspaper has kick started my future.

And yet, it is my GPA that ultimately deems me a failure in the eyes of so many including the school system at large.

When we were kindergartners, we learned for learning’s sake. It was an exercise in constant discovery, constant stimulation and the constant belief that what we gained from it was more than enough.

But we aren’t kindergartners anymore. We are on the cusp. Our minds have become constant calculators for GPAs, test scores, college admission chances. Learning for learning’s sake has become a thing of the past.

Maybe it seems odd for a young adult to sing the praises of kindergarten, but I am a young adult who is an unwavering lover of learning. It is that love of discovery, of knowledge, of having the world in my hands that makes me hate what learning has become synonymous with: systematic, standardized, one-size-fits-all drivel.

Of course, this has made me appreciate the non-traditional experiences so much more. 

Though newspaper defines me more than anything else, I can only hope that the teachers whose classes I failed but whose (literal) tree-hugging assignments and free-thinking discussions I learned so much from can know that they taught and inspired me more than my grades could ever reflect. 

And I hope they know that I genuinely thank them.

Because when we were kindergartners, we expected the world. 

Though the school system never even tried, teachers always strived to give us just that.