This is why I'm no longer an Education major

It's a Wednesday night. Not much is happening. Many students are hitting the books, studying for their upcoming final exams, writing their 20-page papers about subjects that can be written in 2.

Some students, with some kind of youth program, go to a movie theater to watch Bolt. The 20 or so high school students make their ways to the concession stands, quickly deciding what snacks they will bring with them into the movie.

Two girls decide that they want to order their treats together. "Hi, welcome to Harkins, what can I get for ya?" asks an employee, tired from standing around on a slow night.

After glancing up at the menu, one high school girl asks, "What size drinks do you have?"

Resisting the urge to inquire as to what exactly the girls were staring at on the menu, he begins to give them his spiel. "Well, we have a small for $3.50, a medium for $4.00, a large for $4.25, and our 2009 loyalty cups, which are also for $4.25. The large comes with one free refill and the loyalty cup comes with $1 refills until the end of next year."

"OOh, we'll take the loyalty cup," replies one girl.

"What's a loyalty cup?" asks her friend. Where were you when I was just explaining it? the employee thinks.

The first girl answers her friend, "You get unlimited refills."

The employee notices that the first girl left out the very important fact that the refills cost $1, but he leaves it alone, gives them their new, colorful, plastic cup of Dr Pepper. Frustrated at what little attention these girls were paying, he continues his normal concession duties of thanking the costumers, telling them to enjoy their movie, and wiping the counter.

About an hour and forty minutes later, these girls approach the concessionist again.

"Can we get a refill?" they inquire.

"Absolutely!" he responds cheerfully, more out of requirement than out of congeniality. He fills the cup up again with Dr Pepper and places it on the counter in front of his cash register. "That'll be $1."

"Wait, this costs?"

"Yes, it does."

"But they said it was free."

"No, the large comes with one free refill, the loyalty cup costs a dollar each time you refill it. Do you not have the money?"

"No."

"Sorry," he lies. He takes back the Dr Pepper, pours it out, and hands the freshly emptied cup back.

A few seconds later, another friend comes up. "They said that the refills were free."

The employee responds, "Well, either they told you wrong or you heard them wrong. Either way, a refill costs a dollar." He knew that "they" did not tell the girls that the refills were free because the "they" the girl refered to was in fact him and though the girls might have paid for a drink, he knew they did not pay any attention to what he had to say about it. The girls walk away from the theater, with less Dr Pepper inside their bodies than they would have liked.

The concessionist was reminded of why he no longer had any intention of teaching high school students.

Spare the Spoil. Rod the Child

I'm at a point in my life where people are asking me the same question, the one question to which I do not know the answer: "what are you doing after you graduate?" Believe me, if I knew, I'd answer. I think I'd tell people out of sheer excitement that I actually know what it is I'm doing. But, alas, God doesn't work on Jason's time, so I'm still waiting for Him to reveal what it is He wants me to do.

About a year ago, I would have told you that I was either going into full-time ministry with the Navigators or teaching. Now, I'm not too sure about either. I've found that that's what happens when you make plans and exclude God in your planning. I've been turned off to both now. I'm just not sure if ministry is where God wants me and I'm absolutely sure that the classroom is not where I want to be.

On Wednesday, I took the bus to the movie theater. I got on across the street from Tempe High School, around 3pm. I hadn't been on a bus with so many high school kids since high school. It was terrible. They were loud, obnoxious, self-centered. One girl saw my little cigars and asked to buy one from me, and I said no. She then asked if they were already rolled, which is a stupid question, because that's how they come when you buy them. She then asked what it was, and that's when I realized that she didn't want tobacco. I was happy to get off that bus.

Fast-forward to yesterday, when I was catching a bus in front of Tempe High, where the basketball team was having a car wash. These fools (which is exactly what they were) would walk into the street with there signs, talking to people in their cars, almost trying to guilt them into getting their cars washed. It's a really fantastic way to get hit by a moving vehicle for a potential $5. One kid goes up to a car and says, "Hey, sexy mama." I was very close to giving that kid a lesson in respect. However, I wanted my lesson to be something to the effect of beating the hell out of him, so I decided to just sit at the bus stop instead.

Being around high school kids makes me wish it was once again socially acceptable to rod--erm, discipline--other people's kids. They have no respect for authority, or for anyone at all. I don't think the whole "Spare the rod, spoil the child" mentality is working. We need to go back to biblical times, and take what Solomon said in Proverbs 13:24 to heart:

Whoever spares the rod hates his son,
but he who loves him is diligent to discipline him.