The Provonian

I am officially the tutor for the Journalism class at Provo High School. Judging by this month's issue (which is bleak) they could use alot of help. I think I'll start with a "Where Commas Go" tutorial. Lucky them, I wrote for my high school news paper and I have, what their teacher called, a "fresh perspective."

At first I had no idea what that meant, then I started to realize how different this high school is from mine and how those differences have shaped how I look at the world. Some of the differences don't matter, and some really really do. Below I've done one of my favorite things: make a list.

THE LIST OF THINGS ABOUT PROVO HIGH THAT ARE FREAKIN' STRANGE.

First, it's an indoor high school. Which is weird. If you grew up in Southern California I can almost guarantee that you won't be able to walk through the halls of a Utah school without being creeped out. Too many walls! Not enough trees! How do you kids learn in here?

Second, they had a picture of President Hinckley on the front of January's issue. This is awesome, but it is just another layer of the Provo bubble. When they grow up and move to a real town where the high school newspaper covers the local stabbing, they'll freak out and start homeschooling their kids.

Third, cussing is a really big deal. In my high school our teachers cursed like sailors on leave. This didn't mean that I started cussing, but it does mean I can listen to a person with a foulmouth and not be too distracted. Trying to be a real journalist and gasping everytime someone drops an F bomb might hurt your chances of getting the inside scoop about anything.

Fourth, they have fake Mexicans! People of Latin American heritage who fake an accent because of the color of their skin! I'm not even kidding! I was talking to a kid with a thick cholo accent and the guy didn't even speak Spanish! I AM MORE MEXICAN THAN HE IS. I WENT TO TJ AFTER PROM. SHAME ON YOU, CARLOS LOPEZ. YOUR NAME IS THE CLOSEST YOU WILL GET TO BEING MEXICAN. I don't think is hurting anyone, but it is really unsettling.

Fifth, they write about kids going on missions in their newspaper. Soooo sooo strange. Like the Pres. Hinckley thing, it is awesome, but so strange.

Sixth, they are considered the "ghetto" high school of the area. The place is freakin huge, in good condition, with massive displays/offices/facilities. San Marcos High was known as the pregnant high school of California, it was falling apart, and the gang violence in the neighborhood was a legitimate fear. Oh, and I had a kid in my Drawing & Painting class freshman year who had to drop out because he had hepatitis.

WELCOME TO MY WORLD, PROVO HIGH.