By Mike Denny (December 14, 2001)

Some say that where you are going is not important, but the key is the journey you experienced along the way. Sadly, in high school the value of the destination takes on the soul of the journey, one’s final destination becomes a burdensome load of the unknown. I am tired of an odyssey plagued by worksheets, quizzes, and lectures. I am disgusted that I have learned to fall asleep with my eyes open while keeping pen in hand. Is education supposed to feel like this? The journey was transfigured into a death march, a demoralized rout of frustration in education. The end of the tunnel is not near, as it seems that water is flooding in from both ends of the tunnel.

As the dark postman carries letters of fortune or denial, a need for confirmation is becoming apparent. A desire for the validation of our personal journey, the confirmation of worth is the only cause. An answer to the never-ending question: Is it worth it? Was it worth it? The long hours of work, the few hours of sleep, the stress that came from everywhere; was it worth it? 

In the only journey of life I have experienced thus far, the quality of my destination was made clear to outweigh any possible positive experiences along the way. Tired of feeling part of the mold of brainless automatons; my sabotage is prepared. Stark action is needed to counter the years of hell-bent self-annihilation for the goal of receiving a letter in the mail one day. And Monday was that day, a glorious manila envelope containing my future arrived proclaiming my death march was over, and a future of my own was at my feet. Now it is time to welcome the end of normalcy due to this upper-middle class suburban nightmare. 

For sixth months from now, the wearisome journey will end; the true journey of my life will begin. Entering the maw of chaos, with all the possibilities of failure, freedom is the only word that comes to mind.