GH O TI

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Remedial History X

By Randall DeVallance

Right now I should be at Express Limited. Today’s the first day of their “School’s Out for Summer” sale, and all sweaters are fifty percent off. Meaning I can finally afford that black turtleneck that matches my purse and totally makes my boobs look bigger. Only I can’t go, because I’m not finished with school. I have to take Remedial History, and it’s totally unfair.

Of all the subjects in the world, History has got to be the stupidest. Like, Math is boring, but at least it has a point, you know, if you need to figure out how much something costs or whatever. But like, as if anyone is ever going to stop you on the street and pull out a gun and ask you who the king of France was, like, two thousand years ago. I mean, does that make any sense? Anyway, to make a long story short, I bombed the final, and now I have to take this class or I can’t pass the tenth grade.

What drives me nuts about History is, why study things you can’t change? For instance, the section we’re doing right now is on World War II. That happened forever ago. My grandpa Joe was in World War II, and he’s like seventy-nine. My teacher, Mr. Thurber, was like, “It’s important to know these things happened. These events took place just sixty years ago and shaped the world we live in now.” So I raised my hand and asked him, “Well, why don’t we just go back in a time machine and stop the Nazis before they come to power?” and he was like, “There’s no such thing as time machines, Ashley.” Totally walked into my trap. I tried explaining my theory to Mr. Thurber, but he told me to put my hand down until I had something constructive to say. That’s what happens when you try to think independently.

What drives me nuts is, there are people taking this class who don’t even need it. They’re just taking it for fun, because they’re interested in History! Like this one kid who sits next to me, Kevin. He’s a total History dork. He’s always reading these books about historical figures, like Hitler and stuff. Why would you want to read about Hitler? He was totally against the Jews just because they were different from him, and he even killed a bunch of them for like, no reason. That doesn’t make any sense. Take my friend Stacy. She’s Jewish, and she’s totally cool. I bet if Hitler had a friend like Stacy he would have felt differently about Jewish people.

But that’s my point. I can’t take Stacy back in time and introduce her to Hitler and hope they hit it off. All I can do is live my life the best way I know how. And that certainly doesn’t include wasting a perfectly good summer afternoon talking about a bunch of dead white men who go around killing each other and oppress minorities and women and gay people. That’s like, the real hypocrisy behind the whole thing, you know? Like, this boy Devin (who’s totally cute; he reads poetry and paints, and he smokes pot too, but he’s not like a stoner or anything, he just does it to expand his mind) was saying, the only people History teachers ever talk about are dead white men, but there are hundreds of countries out there with their own cultures and traditions, and we never hear anything about them. I mentioned this to Mr. Thurber, and he said I was more than welcome to sit in on his World Civilizations class next month. No way, Jose! He wasn’t going to get me with that one! I made up some excuse about my aunt having cancer and hightailed it out of there before he could blink.

So, I guess I’ll just have to hunker down, get my passing grade, and move on with my life. I mean, really, who cares? I’m sure in a couple months I won’t even remember how bored I was, sitting through six hours of lectures every day. That’s the thing, it’s just like, another part of history, you know? Once it’s over, it’s over. Pretty soon I’ll go off to college and won’t even think about high school. Then I’ll get a job somewhere and be too wrapped up in work to reminisce about all the fun I used to have on campus. I’ll meet the perfect guy and settle down and get married, and forget all about my young, single life. We’ll have kids and raise a family and pour all our attention and energy into making sure they’re happy. Before you know it, the kids will grow up, and we’ll be old like my grandpa Joe. My mom says grandpa Joe has been really sick lately. Emphysema. There’s a chance he might not make it. He started smoking during the war and got addicted. His house always smelled gross. I hated going over there. But again, that’s all in the past. It’s sad, but pretty soon he’ll die. Then he’ll be a part of history himself. Every day that goes by, people will think about him less and less. He won’t really matter anymore. Just like I won’t matter one day. Wow…that’s actually like, totally depressing.

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