Have I fallen victim to an oppressive school system?

My journey through education seems to be a unique one in comparison to most others in our class. 

Am I jumping to a conclusion? 

Maybe so, but as the question of "who can attend private schools?" was posed to the class on our first day, the initial, and in some ways, correct response was "rich people." That leads me to believe that I am either alone, or in the minority of the class, when it comes to having attended a private school during my journey. 

My family was not, and is still not, rich, but, at times, when meeting peers of a similar social class it's a common misconception when finding out that I did attend a private Christian high school. How I was able to afford it is a story for another day.

Does it bother me? No, not really, at this point in my life I've grown accustomed to those misconceptions. 

As a product of the public school system in elementary (Longwood) and middle school (Ochoa), I was not necessarily welcomed with open arms into the private Christian high school community I was now to be a part of. In a way, I became the representative of a lower class in the eyes of my fellow students, their parents and some members of the faculty. At least that's how I felt. 

My oppression in my journey through education came in the form of fear. I was a stranger in a tight knit community. A new kid, who wasn't pulling up to school in a BMW or a Lexus, but instead in his father's 1990 Toyota pickup. The fear was the same on both sides. It was a fear of change. Fear of a new perspective.

On my behalf, I feared being away from the friends I had made over the previous seven years. I was afraid of not being accepted, afraid of being judged and afraid of being alone. I know, sounds like elementary school girl concerns, but they were real.

On the other side, I believe it was fear of not knowing how to deal with a child with a different upbringing, different values, and different morals. I came from a different background than the majority of my schoolmates. I believe it was a fear of the Samoan kid with long hair in the black hoodie. 

That fear from both sides produced tension. 

Tension between me and my schoolmates. Some who thought they were better than me and some who I felt I was tougher than.

Tension between me and the super involved parents, who I wasn't aware were real. So much so that even despite a smile from me, some parents would never acknowledge my presence in the same school as their precious son or daughter.

Tension between me and the teachers. My outspoken nature made me no friends in the faculty and the fact that there was anger built out of the fear I held in did me no favors when trying to hold my tongue. 

That tension produced oppression.

To me, I was just a misunderstood teenager. (I know, sounds familiar.) My concerns were not the same as those that I was in direct contact with and while I did make friends, some that I consider my best to this day, their perspective of society was much different than mine. 

With the different views of society I maintained from my upbringing, my sharp tongue and willingness to challenge authority made the faculty feel like they needed to "control" me or ship me out. It was a circle we ran in for four years. They had to believe in me to some degree, or I wouldn't have made it through those four years. 

When I reflect on my high school years, I know I flashed certain qualities but never consistently stayed the course. The reason I made it through those four years, on my side, was the love of my mother who desperately wanted to see me graduate from a Christian school. Right or wrong, I wanted to make her proud.

So do I feel like I was a part of an oppressed school system? Sure. Although the experience differs from some of my classmates, I believe we fight the same battle. It just may not seem that way when you find out I went to a private school.

The First of Many

“RULE NUMBER ONE: NO PASSIVITY IN THE CLASSROOM”

My name is Samuel Jimenez. I am a proud father of two beautiful baby girls. Well, one baby girl and another girl approaching “toddlerdom.” My oldest will be two in April, and my youngest is six weeks old today. I am happily married and later this year I will celebrate three years in my marriage. At 23 years old, most people are very surprised when they find out that I am both a father and a husband, but if this blog is going to truly “reflect” ME, those facts are what should be mentioned first and foremost.

So, it may be a slightly overwhelming theme on this blog for some, but what I would want my classmates to see while viewing and reading this blog is a man, a father and a husband trying to navigate through this college experience to better myself in every sense. Above all else, my passion is my family and I can’t strive to better our lives as a family without first striving to better myself as a man.

After graduating high school in 2008, family circumstances and a decent job offer led me to the decision to take a break from school and work full time for Comcast cable as a technician. I eventually worked myself into a comfortable position in the workplace and didn’t feel like school would do much for me. Much like you mentioned today, the middle class “American dream” was still alive for me. I was 18-20 years old and working my way past co-workers who were twice my age and had already established comfortable lives for themselves. That’s how it seemed to me, at least.

Then my oldest daughter was born.

If that didn’t light a fire under my ass, I’m not sure anything would have. Shortly after she was born, I sat down with my wife and we both decided to go back to school. Together we decided that she would leave her job and return to school while also being a stay-at-home mom and I would continue doing the 9-5 routine. With her now comfortably in school and getting close to being able to transfer, I decided it was my time to jump back into school.

So now I’m here, in my first semester, with a different type of hunger than I’ve had before. If anything is going to carry me through the heavy workloads, late nights and fear, it’s that hunger. Attacking this task with tenacity. Having the determination and drive to pursue my dream because I can’t, and won’t, allow myself to push my daughters to chase their dreams in the future if I haven’t done so myself.

The reason I emphasize the number one rule in our class is because after taking five years off from school, getting married and having children, I’ve slowly transformed from a loudmouth, slightly obnoxious and reckless teenager into a man who is content with soaking knowledge in by staying quiet and listening attentively. It’s been quite a change with both negative and positive aspects to it but if I’m going to follow this rule, it’s probably time to dig down and see if some of that rebel hot head still exists. So outside of an “A”, meeting new people and opening my mind to new perspectives, I hope to lose some of the passivity I’ve picked up over the last five years in this class. Let me tell you, if anything can soften up a man, it’s a daughter.