AP English? Or Survival of the Fittest?

In the mid 1800's, Charles Darwin proposed the theory of evolution by the process of natural selection: those best suited for their environment would survive and reproduce. "Survival of the fittest" he called it. If I didn't know any better, I would have assumed that Darwin proposed this evolutionary theory not after studying the anatomy of finches, or the organisms of the Galapagos Islands; but rather, the nature of Miss Serensky's AP English classes. In this classroom, literature meets the Hunger Games. The world of Advanced Placement English truly epitomizes the idea of Darwinism. Emphasis on the "world." This class will play a pivotal role in the second half of your high school career - such a role, that the word "class" proves inappropriate, and "world" prevails. See what I did there? "Proves." Such a strong word. A word, not for the weak, but for the fit. This 52 minute class period will chew you up and spit you out, so mark your territory and put up your defenses. Because only the fittest survive. In one week, I will have successfully made it out of the AP English biome alive. If you hope to do the same, I suggest you listen to what I have to say.

1. Read the daily quote on the board. You'll need that little spark of inspiration.
2. Compose a generic formula for your introductory paragraphs. Think Mad Libs, but with SOAPSTone elements.
3. Follow @BobbieSerensky on Twitter. #lol
3. Appreciate days spent in the computer lab. They will prove almost as enjoyable as the fire alarm going off in class.
4. Bring a light windbreaker or sub-zero temperature approved parka to class. Long and brutal are the days of AP English in January.
5. Do not wait until Wednesday night to do your blog. Well, you will. Just make sure you do not start any later than 10:00 PM.
6. Make sure you have both a blue AND black ink pen hand at all times. If you do not, prepare yourself for a twenty second panic attack/agonizing backpack search when Serensky tells you the prewriting requires two colors.
7. Do not forget to silence your phone before in-class essays. Do so, or experience the combination of the iPhone marimba and death glares from your peers. You decide.
8. Invest in a thesaurus. This little book will provide you with the best camouflage to fit in with the vocabulary rich students of the AP English jungle.
9. Do NOT make the mistake of saying "go ahead!" when you chime in at the same time as someone else during in-class discussions. You will not have another chance. Every man for himself.
10. Set two alarms on your phone: one for turnitin.com, the other for Thursday night blog comments. You should never have to experience the sunken stomach feeling after midnight strikes.

Follow these ten rules, and you will glide smoothly through the student-induced savagery and barbarism of Miss Serensky's AP English Class. Remember - only the fittest survive. Good luck!

Meghan Judge: Often Miss-Judged

Dear diary,

I found today just fascinating! Honestly, who knew I could enjoy a Tuesday? I mean, delayed start? Hellooooo! Life could not get any better, right?

Actually, wrong.

Thank God I could sleep in an extra 90 minutes this morning, or else I would have proven to the whole student body that gingers do not, in fact, have souls. The school faculty must think that we owe them something, some sort of "thanks," for letting us sleep in a little. Please, if you really want to impress me, I suggest you eliminate the $0.50 condiment charge in commons, and stop treating us like a herd of cattle. I can't wait for college. I feel like my time is being wasted at this point in high school. I mean, come on. Let's just cut the crap and speak the truth. I, Meghan Judge, National Merit Finalist and recipient of the "Most Intelligent" superlative, should just take over the world now - why prolong the inevitable? I could apply my talent to the Morgan Stanleys of the world, but that would mean saying farewell to the Devil's Playpen - whoops, did I actually just say that? I meant to say the happiest place on Earth! More than anything though, I just want to applaud the freshmen for their adeptness at hall walking. Please, walk a little slower - I dare you! I find their skills fascinating. Just fascinating. At least I have my little brother, Rip, to restore humanity in the future generations. Because the name "Rip" just screams hope. Want to know what else I find fascinating? My teachers. Most teachers would realize that assigning homework and/or projects for second semester seniors would prove cumbersome, but no! Mr. Maas had the courtesy to hand us a mock AP exam, while Mr. Ricci kindly tested us on immune response and neurotransmitters. I walked into the English room yesterday, thinking, "God, please, send me an in-class essay!" Sure enough, Ms. Serensky - or should I say, God? - answered my prayers. Either all my teachers ate their Wheaties this morning, or poured a cup of classic Midwestern charm, because something definitely got into them. Whoever said that it would prove cruel to test seniors on a nice spring day with two weeks of school left before the year ends and life as an independent adult begins - was totally wrong! I know what you think. Meghan Judge (yes, with a "gh") has...senioritis? Gasp! Contrary to popular belief, even the Most Intelligent lose motivation when the second semester rolls around. I can fool people quite easily, I have learned. Although my partner and I received a 100% on our data sheet, my Dan Dreiberg audience and purpose were BS. I bet Serensky didn't know that when she decorated the document with a gold star. Good thing I can basically write as well as my idol, JK Rowling. Not like it would matter, considering I can also fluently speak the Spanish language in its entirety. I have three words to say to that last data sheet: ¡Hasta lavista, baby! Luckily, I have a number of extracurriculars to keep me stimulated. I consistently better the community as an active Key Club officer and CFEF board member. I decided to begin my plan for world domination at a local level, and work my way up. In the mean time, I will continue my education at Johns Hopkins and try to divulge a formula to prevent the extinction of red heads by 2050. Wish me luck!

Sincerely,

MegHan


Disclaimer: Words in bold represent actual phrases said by Meghan Judge herself over text.

Erin With an M

I cannot change my heritage, or my suburban, middle-class upbringing. I have no cultural story to tell, and my complexion blends in with that of my peers. The only thing “unique” I have going for me? My name. Nope, not Marian. Mary Ann? Nah, only one word. Mern? What? Mary? I believe I have an “n” at the end of my name. Marie- ERIN WITH AN M. That usually sticks pretty well with people, I have learned. As does the twenty second guess-and-check that lasts longer than it should. Still, I want my future classmates to know me as more than “Erin with an M.” When I pack my U-Haul next autumn with a mini fridge, comforters, towel turbans, and everything else Bed Bath and Beyond has to offer, I will pack with it my personality and the morals my parents have instilled in me. However, I will leave behind eighteen years of history, and what makes me, me. My reputation will wait at the doorstep - whatever it may say. Good student, pianist, tennis player, youngest of four, Friday Night Lights (the show) addict, yearbook Editor, the list goes on an on. All of those things have shaped my personality, but the thousands of other students who arrive with their U-Hauls on move-in-day will not know that. Time to burst the bubble, and well, enter a new one. College represents something that will only roll around a few times within our lifetime: a fresh start. Not that I plan to leave Chagrin with dirty hands, but I believe everyone can appreciate a clean canvas. Not necessarily to recreate yourself, but to become the person you have always envisioned. How do I want others to perceive myself at college? Good question. Honestly, I wish I had an answer. I guess my main concern lies with people viewing me as, well, odd. My stereotypical appearance and honorable social skills can only fool others for so long. Common catchphrases of mine, including “that’s soooo Ashtabula” (so what?), “Oh my gosh, Franks” (Frank who?), and ALLright (said with a subtle squeak) will most likely have potential friends run in the opposite direction. So will my Instagram account that pictures solely my cat, and my food fetish for Greek yogurt. My personality lies at all ends of spectrum, as both the loud extrovert, reserved introvert, and occasional happy medium. No matter how others perceive me, I just look forward to finding myself outside the bubble, and away from the security of my reputation. Time to brace myself for a thrilling, four years of self-discovery and name-pronounciation clarifiers.