Warning: Contains Strong Language

Fuck prestige.

Our society puts so much stress on social standing and titles that we forget what it actually means to have them.  If you're rich, everyone wants to be your friend.  If you're poor, you're stupid.  If you're homeless, you're lazy.  (Never mind the fact that the system was built by the rich for the rich.)  Take tuition costs for example.  We put an ungodly amount of money and time into getting a piece of paper that says we know something.  Do we really know it by the time we walk across the raised platform to grab a scroll and shake somebody's hand?

Have you ever had a teacher who was full of him/herself?  I'd bet the so-called educator spouted "impressive" titles like degrees or even publications that the instructor was responsible for.  It was always about prestige "earned" for bullshitting assignments for four-to-seven years.  We can still get degrees with C's for God's sake!  Here's my final question about this person you suffered to know: Were they good at teaching?

In my case, no.  My "College writing" teacher in twelfth grade did nothing of the sort.  He had us write one research paper, and then pulled various fluffy projects out of... thin air.  Nobody could say anything because he was in a position of authority.  Nobody could do anything because he would fail them.  Nobody could learn because he was the teacher.

This man had multiple degrees in literature and even performing arts, while Mark Twain had no formal education.  See the difference?  Twain was invited to speak at Princeton, and Oxford had even given him an honorary Doctorate.  Society didn't value time spent at a particular institution worth congratulating, but what a person did to deserve a title truly earned.

The "Father of American Literature" didn't go to school.

Ain't that irony for you.  But this inability to criticize isn't simply infecting relationships between teacher and student, it's between classmates as well.

In Creative Writing on Thursday, we shared our poems with our classmates.  One person, whose poem I did read (and even enjoyed), claimed that it was "awful."  I would have argued fervently against that.  Alas, he seemed to have no self-confidence in his work.  This wasn't the first time that I have encountered this phenomenon.  Many of my peers who have experienced this self-loathing explained to me that it was rooted to the fact that they (not including the man mentioned above, although I would assume that he would tell me something similar) were nobody.  We have writer-idols already, and we believe them to be good.  Society claims them to be gods with pens.  And suggests, ridiculously, that criticizing anybody with a publication is taboo.  An oppressive wave of "your opinion doesn't matter" can evolve into a grotesque "your work doesn't matter."  And thus we arrive at the "I'm a horrible writer because I'll never be as good as them."

When I got my own poem back, I noticed a blatant lack of constructive criticism, or criticism of any kind.  Everything was simply, "This is what you did and I liked it because it was nice."  As an obsessive writer who constantly wishes to improve, this was somewhat distressing for me.  The way my mind works is essentially this: if I'm not being told that I am doing something wrong, I'm damn perfect...  No, not really.  I'm speaking in hyperbole of course, but the message can easily be translated into one sentence.  I can't improve if you don't tell me what's wrong.  No, seriously, I want you to take apart my work.  Tear it to shreds and piss on the scraps if you have to, just help me get better.  Society tells you, "No, he says he's a writer."  "You might hurt his feelings."  "He probably worked really hard on that."  I say, "To hell with it all, what did you really think of it?  I deserve that much honesty!"

In this day and age, one can never tell if one is good at something, or if one was just never told the truth.

Tell me the truth damn it!