Author Archive for Lindsea Page 2 of 2



One Sweet Dream

Hello, I’m a 3.6 and 2100 on my SAT’s.

The further into my high school career I go, the more my face, name, and personality gets traded out for a couple of numbers. It seems as though modern high school is becoming less about personal growth through learning, and more about preparing your resume for Dream College.

Even before high school, college always seemed like it was the end of the road; it was something that was always on my mind, sometimes stressful, sometimes very exciting. In middle school, I made a video about where I wanted to be in four years. Looking back on it, I cringe. I quote my mock senior year statement:

Well, I am a high school senior now! I got a 4.0 unweighted, and I got a 1500 on my SATs. High school was great. There was a lot peer pressure to go to parties and have sex, but I tried to stay away from all that. I set the state record for the high jump, and have 8 varsity letters in 2 different sports, and I’ve acted in 3 plays. I’m the captain of the debate team, and I’m the editor for the school newspaper. I also got into Princeton, Stanford, Yale, and UCLA.

“Um, what?”, I think now. Who did I think I would become? Who is this person, and when do they have time to breathe? Did I think high school was like Gilmore Girls? Yes, actually, I did... but let’s keep that a secret.

Original artwork by LindseaFreshman year was this impossible dream attempting to be lived out, because I thought it was necessary for me to get into that Dream College. Unable to see outside myself, I had tunnel vision on my one goal of getting into Dream College. Learning was important to me, but secondary to the grade I got in the class. Obsessed with getting all A’s, I studied non-stop in the library and at home. I practiced for the notorious SAT, three years ahead of time.

My perspective has shifted since then. The closer I get to college, the more I see that college isn’t this big illustrious dream like it was in middle school and freshman year. It’s kind of like seeing a giant walking on the street and realizing later that it wasn’t that the giant was big, but rather that the street was small.

People (specifically those who are most influential in my life) tell me (good-heartedly, with the best of intentions) that in order to get far in life x, y, and z need to happen, letting x=good grades/good resume, y=prestigious college, and z=good (read: well-paying) job. Though it may be partially true, is that the kind of limiting dream that students should have? Where is the room for growth, experimentation, living? Why does society set these parameters for success?

The path of x, y, and z has been stomped clean of passion, of adventure.

This is something that has been so rigorously conditioned in students: fear of the unusual. This is because the unusual is sometimes regarded as “failing,” at least at the time. For 13 years we go to school, learn curriculum, take tests, read books, etc., all within the context of x, y, and z. Each year we are taught about facts and figures, and tested on them—with the importance being placed on the good score. We get good grades, graduate from elementary, then middle, and finally high school. Mistakes are counter-intuitive to students growing up in the school system, because mistakes are usually connected to the Big Red Pen of Death (bad grades).

What I’ve painfully learned through my own mistakes: it’s easy to live the expected and conventional. It’s when you live the unexpected that you start having fun with your life.

Left with a fresh canvas and a complete set of crayons, I plan to take my own future in my hands, all the while retaining who I am—not my numeric representation.

But what do the rest of you plan to do?

  1. Original artwork by Lindsea

Student Servants

There aren’t any classes in philanthropy.

You can see examples, but it’s not something that you can learn out of a textbook, or teach in the traditional way. For me, philanthropy was an area in my life that lacked development.

When I was 14, just entering high school, I felt that my impact on the world was a small one. Going from class to class, I focused on achieving high grades, and trying to get into my dream college. For recreation during school, I sauntered over to the library to read the new issue of the Atlantic Monthly, or Rolling Stone.

At home it was similar—homework, recreational reading, then surfing, hanging out with friends, etc. But it would be marked by periods of extreme melancholy when I took time to truly penetrate the bubble that I lived in and see all the dark spots in my otherwise perfect world. What was wrong? Feelings of powerlessness flooded my mind. What was I doing? How could I live in a world so centered on my sole existence? It was too easy to get caught up in this day-to-day routine. Why wasn’t anybody doing anything? I asked. Why wasn’t I doing anything?

My own personal experience with service started with that compelling urge to make a positive impact on the world around me. I was also very lucky, because my teachers were the ones who inspired me. My first service experience began with an oceanography class taught by Ricky Grigg (a world-class oceanography professor, and a legendary surfer). After seeing his enthusiasm for our ocean, I decided that I wanted to make sure this precious natural resource stayed healthy. I cleaned my beaches, got involved with a couple Sierra Club projects, and planted some pollution-reducing plants in one of our extremely polluted canals.

A view of the Mokoluas from Lanikai, Kailua

Unsure of where the next step would be, I enrolled in an AP Environmental Science class taught by the late Jeremiah Johnson, hoping to learn more about the earth, and potential ways to improve it. I was incredibly lucky to have a teacher who was so passionate about our ability to change convention, and although he is no longer with us, the lessons that he taught me have changed my life. Learning the dynamics of global warming, the negative effects of the mono-cropping and inorganic farming culture, and all of the other hot topics surrounding our environment from a man who actually practiced what he preached was an experience that I would never forget.

With a passion, I seized the day. I found outlets for my feelings of “smallness,” and you could say I’ve been growing ever since. Actively looking for community service projects that I felt I could contribute to, I found a little niche that I could call my own and officially contributed my life as student servant (161 hours of active service projects). Every day I attempt to make small, but important, informed choices, such as taking the bus to school, or eating local organic food.

Most recently I volunteered for a Hawaii organization called Girl Fest, run by Kathy Xian, a womens study professor at the University of Hawaii. Girl Fest’s aim is to prevent violence against women and children through art, film, spoken word, and music. Because I volunteered at this event, learned artists, musicians, filmmakers, and poets taught me about their crafts in ways that a conventional classroom cannot. Inspired by this event, I decided to start planning my own festival, where I hope to incorporate student talent to raise money for Kathy’s organization, Safe-Zone (something that focuses on sex trafficking, as well as domestic violence and rape).

What I have created for myself, this freedom from the four very beautiful but also restrictive walls of my school, has expanded my knowledge exponentially. Before, math was math, writing was writing, geography was geography, art was art, and science was science; now, they are not my focus, but my telescope.

I had to look outside of school to get this satisfaction. Why is that? “Schools, we might say, are mirrors of social beliefs, giving back what citizens put in front of them,” says professor, and Chair of the Department of Culture and Communication at New York University, Neil Postman. If that’s true, then there is no growth, no change. But more importantly, students are deprived of the freedom to explore the world, and form opinions on their own. It takes teachers who are willing to inspire, and encourage education outside of the classrooms to help students find their own service passion. Acceptance of individual thought and ideas is key, and so is the willingness to let go of the rigid rules of conventional teaching.

Students have the potential to institute great change in the world. It’s true that we are the future. Much like we’re speaking up for the silent majority through Students 2.0, we can and should take responsibility for the problems that they see in the world, and go out and make a difference.

A special thanks to Mr. Watson for getting me involved with Students 2.0.

Making History

For the first time ever in the history of the internet, we have created a global edublog that is administered, designed, edited, and written by students, and only students. In an otherwise teacher-dominated blogging community, we have decided to speak up and let ourselves be heard. Hailing from Hawaii and Washington, from St. Louis and Chicago, from Vermont, New York, Scotland, Korea, and other points on the globe, we have one goal in mind: expressing our opinions and perspectives about education with clarity and confidence. We plan on contributing our unique and insightful perspectives with the objective to better the world of education.

Connected and mentored by English teacher Clay Burell, each student has an equal influence. Clay has given so much of his time to help us through the many unexpected problems that arose. An experienced blogger and thinker, we’ve been able to bounce our ideas off of him, and get unbiased feedback, constantly keeping in mind that his role is not as a supervisor or teacher.

Each of our main contributors will be publishing a post today. One new post will appear every six hours. We’ve worked hard to get where we are, and we want you to see what we’re capable of.

We understand the importance of audience. We understand that you don’t know our world, and many of you are curious. So if there are any topics you want us to address, there’s a comment box waiting for you below this post. We’re listening.






Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported
Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported