When I walk though the halls, I look at my phone. I scroll though Facebook, I text my parents, I watch TED talks. I get to class; I sit down, look at my watch. I tell myself that there are only X amount of hours left in the day and that I'll be safe soon.
If stories are a part of who we are as humans, then why not teach math as a heroic journey in which the characters are numbers and the problems are compelling stories? Why not slay the dragon of Pi and live happily ever after in the faraway land of Algebra?
I was just a normal kid. I had 1,000 followers and I was the farthest thing from a role model and the person I consider myself to be today. From the bottom of my heart, I am truly sorry to each and every person I have ever offended.
I feel like I owe it to those people to speak up and speak out, but I also owe it to myself to respect myself enough not to toss out my experiences carelessly. Like I said before, I'm cool with talking about gender. It's something that needs to be talked about.
Students would be more actively engaged and wouldn't dread coming home to do boring "homework." Instead, they would embark on innumerable journeys at night and come to appreciate the art of storytelling.
I shouldn't feel content with my body and the way I am, because I don't look like these Angels. Or at least, that's what the media is telling me and other girls (and boys) my age and beyond. If they're telling you that too, let me give you a piece of advice: ignore it.
Can you imagine ever making a decision that had to do with bringing a child to a loving home? Well, Millie and her 14-year-old daughter had to make a tough choice. Her judgment changed her life and all those around her.
She just has this way about her. If you've seen pictures of her performing, you'll probably feel this ripple effect: the force of her lyrics, her voice and her stage presence throw you out of your seat. And then there's her hair.
Brittany Wenger is changing the game when it comes to cancer detection technology -- and, at 19, she's just getting started.
The only difference between me and a non-adopted child is that I just happen to have two more parents. Questions about my adoption don't bother me because I am not ashamed. Rather, I think of my adoption of something that makes me unique.
Well, I'm a teen experiencing the gritty reality of 2014, and as the thirtieth anniversary of the beloved movie draws nearer, I decided to watch Sixteen Candles to see how it measures up to today's standards. My results? Surprising.
Recently, I met a new friend at my college, and during the course of our brief introduction he learned that I had ADHD. Almost without thinking he declared that ADHD does not exist and that it is not a "real condition."
So this week has been pretty mental. I've been like a 6-year-old with a secret, desperate to tell my pals for weeks and alas today the secret is released -- literally!
I discovered that I was black in the third grade. No -- not really. I have always known that I had brown skin, but I did not start to realize what having brown or black skin represented in a social, economic and legal context until halfway through elementary school.
This Thanksgiving weekend, I encourage all the seniors to turn off your laptop and put away those applications for a little bit. Enjoy Thanksgiving with your family; don't spend your whole weekend holed up in your room writing supplements.
One of the prevailing things I noticed on that fateful night was the high volume of teens who were speaking out and explaining why this isn't just about one of our peers -- it's a bigger societal indication about civil rights and the racism that still exists in America.