The Great Aim of Education is not Knowledge but Action - Herbert Spencer


Views: 88

Reply to This

Replies to This Discussion

      The long yellow bus ride is long and enduring with all the loud non-stop noise and commotion that continues throughout the day. Other days it is a relaxing soothing subtle bus ride where everyone is asleep and calm. No matter what the mood is there is always someone throwing some kind of unneeded object at someone rather it is on purpose or they just threw it and it hit them.
As I walk onto the long, yellow bus, I can feel all of the energy from all of the kids on the bus flowing through me. It's chilly(and sometimes windy), but, at the same time, it's warm. All the energy from the kids on the bus flows through me and makes me hyper. I get so hyper sometimes that I jump around. Sometimes though, when I get on the bus, there is no energy. It feels like there is nothing. Nothing around, and nothing near. Nothing there, and nothing to hear. There is just nothing. Most of the time though, there is so much energy that i jump around. I jump around, up and down, side to side, time just flies by. We pass all the stops and everyone says bye, but, when they say bye, I want to say hi. Then, as more and more kids get off of the bus, more and more energy goes with them. Then, we finally get to the last stop and I have to get off of the bus. When I get off of the bus, all the energy that was flowing through me just goes away. I say bye to the bus driver and walk off of the bus.

 The time seems to go on when I'm riding the bus. Still sleepy from having woken only an hour, before getting on to the drafty bus. The laughter, and chatter from the other students a constent noise in my mind. Shifting around, uncomfertable in the small compact space of the seats. Talking effortlessly with friends, about fun times shared, or fun times to have later on. Listening to the bus driver, as she loses her patience with some of the kids. Constantly looking out the windows, taking in the quite landsape as it rolls by. Wanting nothing more than to be off the bus, and doing something else.

I get outside my door, I see the clouds evaporating, the sun is coming, and the air feels good. I walk down to the end off my street to catch the bus, its quiet, no noise of any kind. I get to the end of the street, I plug in my head phones into my MP3 player. As I wait for the bus to arrive, I see a deer jumping through the farmer's feild across the street. Some wind comes in, it feels good, the sun is coming out. I thought, "It looks like its going to be a beutifull day today." I see the bus come around the corner, this big yellow, rectangle box stops right in front of me. I get on the bus, its crowded, its smells old and musty, and its noisey. Hardley any seats except for a few seats, I sit down next to Matt Owen, the seat is so small and narrow I can barely sit. After stuggling to get in the seat, I turn on my MP3 player, I do this to not let the noisey people bother me. I have my MP3's volume all of the way up, I can still hear other people over the sound of my music. The bus drives up Mosby Creek Road and turn on to Groute Roade.
As I just sit in my seat, my eyelids heavy as can be with a freezing chill down my spine when I lean against the window for some shut eye. Numbness down my legs from the stillness of sitting as my body turns to ice, just sitting and waiting for the bus to come to a halt.
As we get on the bus I am greeted by waves of kids getting on and all I want to do is get out of the blistering cold. While I am walking towards the back all I can hear is talking about how their day was yesterday. While I sit down I feel the cold vinyl and the heater pushing its way up the back of my legs. While getting situated I catch a sweet smell of vanilla coming from somewhere in the vicinity. When I touch the window I feel the cold damp condensation urging me to wipe the mist away then heat them up. As we grow near the school I look up and see the sun creeping from the clouds and think to myself "It will be a beautiful day."
We stand in a crowed line kids pushing and and yelling that they want the front of the line so they could get the back seats. Once on the bus we were welcomed by our bus driver. A friend and I get in the back seat I opened up some honey greek yogurt and the aroma of garlic and celery seed from my every thing bagel filled our seat. Chatter of the students ahead of us fill the bus then over the loud speaker our bus driver yells at a middle schooler, as we start to drive off. I look around to see a few people sleeping. I heard some people not listening and playing there music in speakers. I talked to my friend about my night while music from my i pod ringed in my ear. The ride was really bumpy, every pot hole we hit the bus threw us around. Laugher fill the bus now, Every stop we stopped at the sound got louder. Once we were close to school the shuffle of bags filled the bus.

Waiting in the cool fresh air for the doors of the yellow bus to welcome me in. As I walk into the bus instantly my head wants to go back onto my pillow for some more relaxing quiet sleep. The loud muggy crowded bus doesn't allow me to close my eyes for five more minutes. The children laughing the smell of sleep and coffee in the air doesn't help much eather. Waiting as our bus dawns closer and closer to our finial destination. My body gets anxious and is longing for the rest of the world of fresh air and the new day to begin. The education I want to get is right infront of me as soon as I get off of this muggy crowded bus. As the students stand as if they are to enter a prison they inactively get off the bus one by one. Into the enviorment that will mold and reconstruct their minds.


As you get on to the bus and sit on the ice cold seat the moister in the air it’s as thick as water. It’s hard to think when there is dozens of voices going all at the same time about random things. There is what seems to be an endless tree line all taller than the bus is long. The bus driver looking from the road to the kids like she had a 64 ounce of Coffey and downed it as soon as she got it she seems to be looking for a certain person. The middle school talking as if no one was round for miles as loud as can be talking over everyone else so that they may be heard, and moving all over it’s like a vast sea of little kids never ending to land. I am weary of the bus ride ready for school for there is a computer and many other things to do there, also there is no middle school in the class room.

Once you sit down their is no turning back you just their in the most dull seats you hear the screaming of young middle schoolers and the conversations you never wanted too. the more you keep to yourself the more you hear, laughs crys and the most stuipedest things you will ever hear. as you sit you hear every little thing from your neigbor listing to music or the sound of someone texting on their phone you sit their keeping to yourself on the loudest bus in the world but you still hear evey little thing that goes on.

As I enter the large yellow and black behemoth that shuttles me to and from school, I am assaulted by a barrage of smells and sounds. I traverse the cramped corridor up the center of the commotion saying hello to a few of the other passengers along the way. I find my padded cell near the back. I flop down and get situated. After our transport departs from the parking lot I begin the first of many oral exchanges along the road. I gaze out the window during the breaks in conversation and watch as the clouds and fog drift and the sun rises changing the sky from a bitter gray to lighter shades and hues of color. We rendezvous with another four wheeled beast of pollution and acquire more passengers. We make our way back to the road and proceed towards our destination. We have several smaller stops along the way. As we arrive at our destination the beast lurches to a stop with a grind and a hiss of pressurized air. As myself and those around me stand, I stretch and proceed forward. I exchange departing words with our transport engineer as i step down to the pavement. Time for another day in The Institute.

                In a rush, I ran down Coiner Park. I was late. My legs were dragging from the restlessness of the night before. I ran for the bus before it could close the doors, and said “Morning” to the driver in the same mono tone as I usually did. I walked down the track and found myself towards the back. The stench of after-smoke got to me and the air was warmer on the bus than it was when my dad had dropped me off. I settled myself next to Emyn and pulled out my book and iPod. The bus began in full motion, pulling out of the park and onto Main Street. I put on M83, and began to read. The book felt warm in my hands and each word drew me in like a drug. From time to time I would glance up to a different scene; a deserted town on a bleak Thursday morning, a mountain side full of winding and sun glistening roads. I turned my attention towards the open lake that seemed to run off of the edge of the mountain. Its reflection was still and very clear. The sun was high and we had a rush of cool air. The music was blurred, with each piece almost syncing in unison. My seat was growing more and more uncomfortable, I could feel the iron bar that was made into the seat with the cheap 80’s upholstery form in my back. I put my stuff away quickly realizing a familiar look-out point. The bus was louder than I had heard from the feedback of my music. The kids were screaming – but it all seemed to be silent to me. I was still drowsy from the long night, with no sleep.


It was 8:19 a.m.


                “Another day” Is all I could hear in my head.

Reply to Discussion


© 2018   Created by Travis Powell.   Powered by

Report an Issue  |  Terms of Service