When I started first grade in the States, I was a little puzzled by my first grade teacher. She was so... interesting. I want to say it wasn't because she was the first white person I ever got to know, but who knows? I was a five year old who just came back from a year and a half in China. (Read "adjustment issues".)
But from an early age I learned neither to trust nor identify with adults. It's not that I didn't think they knew what was best for me. I didn't even trust how they got their information to begin with.
Firstly, they're imprecise. When I was five, the attention to detail that I paid to my surroundings came down to half-millimeters. Adults? They couldn't tell the difference between one inch and two inches. I asked one of my teachers once to show me how long an inch was. She spread her thumb and index finger apart until they could hold a strawberry. "This much." She held her fingers probably two and a half inches apart, not one.
Secondly, they're dirty. Once during arts and crafts in first grade, I got some glue on my fingers and didn't know what to do to clean it. I showed it to my teacher. What did she show me to do? Wipe it on my pants. No doubt my mom did not appreciate that.
Thirdly, they don't know how to move themselves. Their bodies were bulky and generally all over the place. Why did I have to follow them around? They should be keeping up with me!
Lastly, they bend truth. That's just true. I still think that's true. In fact, I'm starting to do it.
So those are a few of the reasons why I'm dreading graduation/adulthood.
