High School is the most toxic and pathological social environment a child can be in besides prison. It will be one of the few times in life where people will experience rabid authoritarianism, significant physical violence, and aggressive social ostracism.
The military is a wildly more appropriate social environment for children than public school.
Anyone who disagrees is a fucking liar or a fucking perpatrator.
That was elementary school for me. High school, I didn't socialize much with kids there at all, except for a couple of other outcasts (one had a funny name, and the other was dying of CF.) I had cadets, though.\ (which also exposed us to socializing with WWI and II vets.)
They did, but keep in mind their stories had nothing to do with combat. Not because we were kids, but because ... they preferred to talk about the friends they remembered like yesterday, and the little bit of enjoyable time they had.
I was taught to NEVER pry war vets with questions; just let them talk as they will. I had a great uncle who was ... touchy.
I don't pry, but I do want to know. It helps as a veteran because people really don't know what it was like, and every veteran has a story.
Some of my marines and I were on a training in a very rural area once in the US. Those marines were from Puerto Rico, and they were initially very scared about hanging out in rural America with white people because of Leftist propaganda. I mocked them a bit for it, and they calmed down, and began to enjoy the pleasantries of a rural American diner (classic 50 year old woman as a waitress who calls you 'honey', with a dirty chef in the kitchen cooking the best bacon & eggs you can imagine).
As we left the diner, an old man came up to us and thanked us for our service, and asked us what we were all here for. We told him we were here for training, and someone asked him if he served. He clearly had because he was wearing a typical veteran's baseball cap: the black hat with gold & white lettering indicating operations or missions they'd been on. When I read it, I was shocked, but nobody else seemed to know what it meant. His hat said: "Operation Shingle".
I told him we thanked him for his service because he paved the way for us. But I did have a follow-up question.
"Sir, were you at Anzio?"
He gave a solemn "Yes." and walked away.
The marines around me asked, "What's Anzio?"
I told them: "That man has seen more shit than you will ever see in your life. He's a hero."
One day we'll lose these veterans, and we won't have heard their stories. No one will ever understand what it was like on those days, except for you, your comrades in arms, and the enemy who was shooting at you.
If you want to know about the battle in specific detail, Sabaton covers it in "To Hell And Back", while Pink Floyd covered it in "When The Tigers Broke Free". To Summarize, it was an amphibious attack in Italy that nearly failed. Allied forces were stuck on an exposed beach-head for weeks as they were bombarded by artillery, strafed by the Luftwaffe, and even hit with full-on armored assaults. Repelling a tank rush without anti-tank weapons is difficult, so you can imagine how hard they had it.
I fucking HATED high school. Being forced to sit in a chair at a tiny desk for hours at a time listening to some midwit drone on about a subject I had little interest in, and all so I could have lunch one hour before the school day ended. Who the fuck wants to do geometry at 8:30 in the morning? Sure, my eyes were open, but I wasn't actually awake until at least 11.
That isn't even getting into the bullying, trying to figure out how to talk to girls, the stress of my parents expectations, and of course trying to get into a good college.
The cherry on top is that the high school used to be an actual prison from what I remember.
High School is the most toxic and pathological social environment a child can be in besides prison. It will be one of the few times in life where people will experience rabid authoritarianism, significant physical violence, and aggressive social ostracism.
The military is a wildly more appropriate social environment for children than public school.
Anyone who disagrees is a fucking liar or a fucking perpatrator.
That was elementary school for me. High school, I didn't socialize much with kids there at all, except for a couple of other outcasts (one had a funny name, and the other was dying of CF.) I had cadets, though.\ (which also exposed us to socializing with WWI and II vets.)
Those vets must have had some fuckin' stories.
They did, but keep in mind their stories had nothing to do with combat. Not because we were kids, but because ... they preferred to talk about the friends they remembered like yesterday, and the little bit of enjoyable time they had.
I was taught to NEVER pry war vets with questions; just let them talk as they will. I had a great uncle who was ... touchy.
I don't pry, but I do want to know. It helps as a veteran because people really don't know what it was like, and every veteran has a story.
Some of my marines and I were on a training in a very rural area once in the US. Those marines were from Puerto Rico, and they were initially very scared about hanging out in rural America with white people because of Leftist propaganda. I mocked them a bit for it, and they calmed down, and began to enjoy the pleasantries of a rural American diner (classic 50 year old woman as a waitress who calls you 'honey', with a dirty chef in the kitchen cooking the best bacon & eggs you can imagine).
As we left the diner, an old man came up to us and thanked us for our service, and asked us what we were all here for. We told him we were here for training, and someone asked him if he served. He clearly had because he was wearing a typical veteran's baseball cap: the black hat with gold & white lettering indicating operations or missions they'd been on. When I read it, I was shocked, but nobody else seemed to know what it meant. His hat said: "Operation Shingle".
I told him we thanked him for his service because he paved the way for us. But I did have a follow-up question.
"Sir, were you at Anzio?"
He gave a solemn "Yes." and walked away.
The marines around me asked, "What's Anzio?"
I told them: "That man has seen more shit than you will ever see in your life. He's a hero."
One day we'll lose these veterans, and we won't have heard their stories. No one will ever understand what it was like on those days, except for you, your comrades in arms, and the enemy who was shooting at you.
If you want to know about the battle in specific detail, Sabaton covers it in "To Hell And Back", while Pink Floyd covered it in "When The Tigers Broke Free". To Summarize, it was an amphibious attack in Italy that nearly failed. Allied forces were stuck on an exposed beach-head for weeks as they were bombarded by artillery, strafed by the Luftwaffe, and even hit with full-on armored assaults. Repelling a tank rush without anti-tank weapons is difficult, so you can imagine how hard they had it.
I fucking HATED high school. Being forced to sit in a chair at a tiny desk for hours at a time listening to some midwit drone on about a subject I had little interest in, and all so I could have lunch one hour before the school day ended. Who the fuck wants to do geometry at 8:30 in the morning? Sure, my eyes were open, but I wasn't actually awake until at least 11.
That isn't even getting into the bullying, trying to figure out how to talk to girls, the stress of my parents expectations, and of course trying to get into a good college.
The cherry on top is that the high school used to be an actual prison from what I remember.
The worst part is that the kids who want to do Geometry at 8:30 in the morning, should be in a place better than highschool.