The Hidden Treasures

Sanctuary. The one place you feel free to be yourself, to let down the mask you show everyday society and relax. The one place you let your shoulders hang up their tenseness by the door and snuggle into bed with a warm pretense of safety.

My sanctuary is my room, second by my bathroom and third by my house on a whole. My friend's house comes close (thanks Jials!) but what always bothered me was "the home away from home" -- the school.

School is the very LAST place I would call sanctuary; it is hell on earth with politics playing every which way. There is never a neutral, there is never grey. All it is is black and white and never, ever will it be a sanctuary to me. I suspect it is the same for others.

I went six years to a government school filled with children from prestigious families. They were stuck-up, they played dirty, and I was never trully happy. I left after the sixth year and moved on to a new school, a new place, a new field. I was happy there. I found out that Malay girls weren't all mean, in fact, they were friendly beyond belief. I found out that boys could be relied on as friends and I found my best friend to this day there. Sure, there was some drama in between, but it's all in the package of living life's sense of humour.

I left the next year for another school by my parents' choice. The teachers were terrific and my intellect grew drastically. But the people were horrific. I had entered a new battle ground.

I've been there for four years now. The first year, I couldn't bear to talk to anyone for close to two months. They were all so artificial. Friends were never friends, allies never allies. It truly brought to mind the saying, "With friends like those, who needs enemies?" It was two months into my first year when I had an emotional breakdown in class after letting a spiteful boy and his words get to me. I wasn't hurt merely emotionally (I am ashamed to admit that I was blubbering at the end of it) and mentally, but physically as well (I punched the wall in a vain attempt to keep from punching him). It took three months before I could close my fist again without cringing, and another three more before it stopped hurting at a mere touch.

Since my first year at the school, I have never been in the spotlight. And I loved it. No one staring at me, no one criticising me most of the time -- it just became really lonely. My self-worth whithered to nearly a negative three and I had a bad habit of apologising for ANYTHING.

Two years past. I have people I once called acquaintances as friends. They don't share their personal lives with me, and I don't share my own. I'm still carefully tucked away in the corner and nobody thinks that I am capable of ANYTHING. When deciding important things for the sports house, none of my opinions were asked, as is my friends. In fact, only those considered 'popular' were considered worthwhile to talk to, nevermind the fact that they had and still have brains the size of an ant's and the capabilities of a bloated, airheaded goldfish at leading. The March Pass is the worst, and best, event. To watch the babboons strut around and pretend to KNOW what they're doing is truly hilarious, and pitiful.

I went for the debate team last year. I braved the crowds that I so detest, I spoke and was heard (even if it wasn't on what I wanted to be heard on). I was noticed.

I got invited to the sports house meetings. My opinions mattered and even the teachers took notice. I basked in the idea of shocking them; they have such odd expressions. Now, I just feel like screaming.

My "school" is suppose to be a place to mold young minds and lift them to their full potential. Let me correct his misconception. If you want attention and an artificial face of respect from others, then make yourself known by standing out. Make yourself known by braving the crowds and behaving like a pompous peacock who just grew his tail feathers but still has the mind and attitude of a retarded three year old. Be dictatious, be cruel, be known. Miggle with the 'in' crowd and criticise one another behinds each other's backs. You WILL be noticed; I assure you.

The teachers are supposed to take the time to notice us. That's the whole idea of going to the god forsaken school. The people are supposed to be friendly, and open-minded. That, dear innocents, is a load of cow DUNG.

People and teachers and the director and her miserable son notice and praise the idiots that strut but never the humble ones. They would rather notice and treasure the fools gold than to see the real gems hidden in the dark corners. I know there are gems, because I've seen them.

They are people worthy of respect. They are creative, good leaders and capable. They make loyal friends and sly allies. Those are the gems! Not those stupid buzzards that revel in the idea of popularity. Yet politics is everywhere, isn't it? Even in the "home away from home".

Favouritism is shown clearly. Only the apples that shine in the sun get picked to be prefects or heads of house, never the ones that re dull but sweet. Only the colourful art gets attention, never the ones with darkness and actual DEPTH. What is this?!

Why will no one let us speak up?! Why will they never acknowledge us? We work hard to get acknowledgement yet are still conveniently chucked to the sides. We work and try and plead with the fates, yet still it eludes us! In the end, our wills are nothing more than a pathetic shadow of death and our enthusiasm dwindles to negative NOTHING. When will the real treasures be seen? When will they be given a chance to shine? It will be years before they overcome the world of stereotypes and are seen for what they are, if they ever are.

To anyone out there, look deeper. Beauty is only skin deep, if at all is called beauty. True beauty is never called that, but you will know it once you see it. Look for it. Look for the hidden treasures; Let Them SHINE!