The Watcher
Cinder block walls feel like home, where we learn our capability to withstand adult decisions. The off white paint covered with beautiful student murals represents much more than dreams and talents. We spend as much time in school, if not more, as our parents do at work. Still, winding up back at my high school as an administrative assistant, the same place I’d been tossed in the trash bin ten years prior as a freshman, somehow made me feel more like garbage at twenty something than it did at fourteen. I still remembered how things worked in high school, and many of the same rules applied, the expectation to do your work and be on time. Only this period of my life I was working with the other side as one of the adults. I hadn’t grown much since high school and frankly I still looked like a kid myself. Somehow, the duty of questioning the tardiness and decision making processes of young people was now my job.
