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Inspiration & Scribes |
The
Boy and the Starfish
A Mother's Day 1945 On the Suburban Front Coke and the Military in School ![]() |
| On
the Suburban Front
Coke and the Military in School The Further Breakdown of Our Suburban Utopias "Well, guess what," he said rather annoyed as we drove away from jr. high school. They've got a big Coke display at school and are giving away Coke cards." Out of the corner of my eye in the rear view mirror I noticed the older man bend down and pick something up near the school fence. We'll maybe they're trying to do something fun for the kids, I thought, but I realized it was really just about money. More kids to become loyal consumers. "So they've had Coke and the military at school. Great," he said, that's just a great example for kids. "They've sold out," he said. I was somewhat surprised by his observation, but I wasn't surprised that the local jr. high school was pushing Coke and the military to vulnerable 12 and 13 year olds. "We had a drill today too," he said. "Practicing what to do if there's a shooting here too. You know, like at Columbine." Yeah, I knew. Every parent knew. And most parents who by law have to send their children to schools that aren't necessary the safe havens they want to send their children too, think about it everyday as they drop off their children --the most precious beings in their lives. "Did they teach you about compassion and peace," I asked. No. They just told us what to do in case of another school shooting. I wouldn't be surprised if someone at our school did that too." Coke and the military, I wondered, is that really what these impressionable children need? Everyday I heard the stories of another school bully, lunch money being robbed, pressures, teachers who discourage questions. Less often were the stories of the good things, a ribbon, an achievement, a kind word from a teacher, but then that's just how kids are right?... "Yeah, a lot of kids just don't care at my school," he said. "They wouldn't care if they hurt anyone. I hate it. It's hell." I remembered my jr. high school days too. Yeah, sometimes it was hell, especially to a preteen. There were some great kids, but then there were always the ones that wanted to fight, just because they were mean. Though even then I wondered, why? Does our society teach otherwise I wondered? When I was a teen, the U.S. was napalming everything in it's path in Vietnam. Kids wore black and silver MIA bracelets. We heard about villages and villagers being decimated, but not in school. In school, we never talked about war, about morality, about life. We learned about math, we memorized facts to get good grades, and made instant pan cakes in home-ec. We only talked about it after being threatened to be expelled for questioning the morality of the Pledge of Allegiance during the war. I remember being scared, but finding the courage to tell the principal that if they didn't allow us to question the practice of saying the pledge of allegiance everyday like blind sheep, then we didn't live in a free, democratic society, and he might as well be a principal of a school in the Soviet Union... ah, but that's another story. Jr. high isn't easy. "What's that?" I asked as I noticed the small, bright orange book in his hand. "Oh, it's a Bible," he replied. "Some men were giving them away outside of school." I'm not a religious person, but I could see the irony of Coke and the military being allowed in the school, a place of learning, and the teachings of the New Testament being kept out. "Oh, that's what that man by the fence was doing," I said. I heard the news at home, NATO accidentally bombs refugees and civilians, again. What a way to accomplish peace I thought. When our society sees violence as the solution, civilian casualties are acceptable, and our jr. high schools push consumerism and the military, is the news of the further breakdown of our suburban utopias really a surprise? I checked the mail - letter from school that appeared to be a form letter. Your child has had too many absences from school it said. It cited the time that he was out of town for a family funeral, though if they would have actually checked their records before sending this out, they would have seen that it was all cleared ahead of time. Yes, they're out of touch I thought. The
next day, we rushed out of the house as usual. He combed his hair in the
car and had a nibble from a peanut butter sandwich I had hastily made.
He blew me a kiss as he ran off with his heavy backpack and I drove away.
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