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Friday, July 15, 2005



As a kid when complaining about homework, exams, mifranims and the like, invariably I’d get the overused reply that I should enjoy my school-going years.
“When your school career is over you’ll look back nostalgically and wish it had never ended”, they said philosophically.
When in an agreeable mood, I would just nod, when I had just failed math (again), I’d answer that nostalgia had to be better than what I was feeling (despair and exhaustion).

Aside from the fact that this gives a very gloomy picture of what is awaiting us later in life, after all they’re saying pretty much that it gets only worse; it is simply no comfort to an overstressed kid.
Teachers and even Rabbis are often bitter and bored individuals, and the latter one often way too aged to relate to their talmidim on any level.
They hand off homework like school was a 24/24 activity, and not just from 9 am to 6 pm.
Every morning I see the kids carrying backpacks that would be large enough to carry them, if they had been horses (the backpacks).
Occasionally I feel so sorry for a small child that I offer to carry it for him/her as far as I’m going in the same direction.
More often than not I’m shocked by the weight of these things.
Admittedly I’m no Hulk, but still if something feels heavy to me, to a 12 year old it must feel like lead or the suitcases I’ll be schlepping soon(check second article of this blog).

And 20 days ago, at the end of last month, I went to visit my in-laws, parents and, friends with teenagers, and saw the revulsion and desperation of those youngsters at the sight of those obese study books.
I tried to give them some encouraging remark, but three sleepless nights,spent studying, in a row would make anybody numb to gentle support or anything else.
At that moment I thought back to what my parents used to say to me and said loud enough for everyone to hear,” you were so wrong!”.
I may not walk to my daily job with the enthusiasm of a kid who just heard he’s going to Disneyland (or –world).
However there are very few circumstances I can come up with in my darkest imaginations that would make me yearn for those so-called good old days.

Good post!


NJ from NJ
Great Post!

I find the "good old days" were oh so much simpler...
That was a cute one. I remember those "60lb bags" as I remember calling them. They were so heavy that when I used to come home at night, I would go into the bathroom and take off my shirt and see the blood vessels popped on my shoulders where the straps were. I remember thinking how cool that looked. Thank you for the memory. (Welcome to the blog world).
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