Ved 7:45, jeg åbner dørene til en bygning dedikeret til opbygning, men det kun bryder mig ned. Jeg marcherer ned gangene ryddet op efter mig hver dag af almindelige viceværter, men jeg har aldrig den anstændighed at ære deres navne. Skabe efterladt åbne ligesom teenagedrenges munde hvor teenagepiger bærer tøj, der dækker deres usikkerhed, men udsætter alt andet. Maskulinitet efterlignet af mænd, der voksede op uden fædre, kamuflage båret af bøller, der er faretruende bevæbnet men har brug for kram. Lærerne betalt mindre end hvad det koster dem at være her. Oceaner af unge kommer her for at få lektioner men aldrig lærer at svømme, skiller sig som Det Røde Hav, når klokken ringer.
At 7:45 a.m., I open the doors to a building dedicated to building, yet only breaks me down. I march down hallways cleaned up after me every day by regular janitors, but I never have the decency to honor their names. Lockers left open like teenage boys' mouths when teenage girls wear clothes that covers their insecurities but exposes everything else. Masculinity mimicked by men who grew up with no fathers, camouflage worn by bullies who are dangerously armed but need hugs. Teachers paid less than what it costs them to be here. Oceans of adolescents come here to receive lessons but never learn to swim,
Dette er et træningsområde. Mit gymnasium er Chicago, forskelligartede og adskilt på formålet. Sociale linjer er pigtråde. Etiketter som "Regulære" og "Ære" giver genlyd. Jeg er en Ære men tager hjem med Regulære studenter der er soldater i det territorium, der ejer dem. Dette er et træningsplads for at sortere de Regulære fra de Ære, en tilbagevendende cyklus bygget til at genanvende affaldet af dette system.
part like the Red Sea when the bell rings. This is a training ground. My high school is Chicago, diverse and segregated on purpose. Social lines are barbed wire. Labels like "Regulars" and "Honors" resonate. I am an Honors but go home with Regular students who are soldiers in territory that owns them. This is a training ground to sort out the Regulars from the Honors, a reoccurring cycle
Uddannet i en ung alder for at kapitalisere, bogstaver underviser nu at kapitalismen rejser dig men du er nødt til at træde på nogen anden for at komme dertil. Dette er en træningsplads, hvor den ene gruppe lærer at lede, og den anden er lavet til at følge. Det er ikke underligt, at så mange af mine folk spytter eder, fordi sandheden er svært at sluge. Behovet for grader har efterladt så mange mennesker frosne.
built to recycle the trash of this system. Trained at a young age to capitalize, letters taught now that capitalism raises you but you have to step on someone else to get there. This is a training ground where one group is taught to lead and the other is made to follow. No wonder so many of my people spit bars, because the truth is hard to swallow.
Lektierne er stressende men når du tager hjem hver dag og dit hjem er arbejde, ønsker du ikke at finde opgaverne frem. At læse lærebøger er stressende, men at læse gør ikke noget når du føler, at din historie er allerede skrevet, enten død eller får reserveret. At tage tests er stressende, men at boble i en Scantron ikke forhindrer kugler i at briste.
The need for degrees has left so many people frozen. Homework is stressful, but when you go home every day and your home is work, you don't want to pick up any assignments. Reading textbooks is stressful, but reading does not matter when you feel your story is already written, either dead or getting booked. Taking tests is stressful, but bubbling in a Scantron does not stop
Jeg hører at uddannelsessystemerne svigter, men jeg tror, at de lykkes på hvad der er bygget til at gøre -- at træne dig, at holde dig på sporet, at opspore en amerikansk drøm, der har svigtet så mange af os alle.
bullets from bursting. I hear education systems are failing, but I believe they're succeeding at what they're built to do -- to train you, to keep you on track, to track down an American dream that has failed so many of us all.
(Bifald)
(Applause)