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Summer School Blues
Summer school can be unbearable after
countless bad experiences.
By Chantel Stepney
 When I tell people I've been in school for the past four
weeks of summer, they usually laugh. "Well, you shouldn't have failed in
school," they say. For the record, I did not fail any classes during the
school year.
During my junior year of high school, I studied
two semesters of French III. This would have been ultimately enjoyable,
if new graduation requirements for the class of 2001 didn't exist.
Unfortunately, a semester-and a-half into the class, I realized that I
wouldn't have enough room in my senior schedule to squeeze all of the
requirements in. Hence summer school (my punishment) was the only option
I had. This situation has definitely made my summer anything but
enjoyable.
Every day, I spend a total of four hours and 24
minutes in what the Atlanta public school system has mistakenly deemed
"summer school." Douglass High School is an unsanitary, overcrowded and
boisterous place — a place where over 2,000 teenagers from various
schools have managed to squeeze into the halls, lunchroom and classes
for six weeks.
You may wonder what gives me the right to
complain. Well to begin with, summer school isn't exactly free. Students
ineligible for free or reduced school meals pay 200 dollars for each
summer school class they take. So, with the help of a work-study
program, my parents paid 300 dollars for me to attend health and
economic classes.
For the first four days of summer school, we
did not have a teacher. This is equivalent to missing almost two weeks
of school. Needless to say, those four days not only wasted my time, but
my money as well. We had a substitute teacher who forced us to write
three page autobiographies and discuss her bad moods.
But to be
fair, I'll admit summer school has been to some extent, a positive
experience. I've learned how to conveniently use Atlanta's transit
system, MARTA. I've also seen many classmates from elementary and middle
school. And in a sense, I am more responsible. Summer school begins at
7:30, so I have to awake by 5:30 just to make it there on time.
However, the bad experiences make summer school almost unbearable. I am
forced to go to sleep extra early in order to wake up on time. While my
friends participate in cool internships and summer programs, I cannot
because summer school starts too early and dismisses too late. When I
arrive at school early, it is so overcrowded, I have to wait in
Georgia's humid climate for at least 10 minutes just to get through the
metal detector.
During two 30-minute lunch periods, hundreds of
students crowd into one heated room that has folding chairs instead of
benches with stationary seats. There is so little walking room between
the aisles of each table that if a fire developed in the kitchen, the
safest way to get out would be to jump on the tables and run. And I have
homework, every teen's worst nightmare, during summertime.
But
the most disturbing thing is my summer school peers. Most of the
students there have failed one or more classes. Some can barely read on
an eighth grade level and use a class clown image to disguise their
disabilities. Others live very tough lives, being a grown-up at a very
young age. In every two classes, there's at least one female who is
pregnant or has a child. I feel sad for all of them, and I can't begin
to imagine understanding what some of my peers face every day.
I know that I cannot change the world, and summer school reminds me of
this everyday; the whole situation is exhausting. Fortunately, I have
less than two weeks of summer school remaining. I am making A's in my
classes, and I'll admit that I am actually learning. Summer school's
okay if you just love the idea of advancing. As for me, I'd rather watch
reruns of MTV's "The Real World."
— Chantel Stepney is a
Youth Radio Atlanta reporter and commentator
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