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The new school week has begun. This isn't a classroom of periodic tables and the alphabet running the length of the wall. There will be no teacher with those silly posters of cats hanging from tree limbs with copy on that bottom saying "Hang in There." Now there are big blue Ford ovals. The bright yellow school bus has now been replaced by a white Econoline van. Pencil and notebooks have been replaced with laptops. No longer is there a green chalkboard in front of us, but a white screen dedicated for PowerPoint presentations.

Still similarities do exist. The faces surrounding me look tired and exhausted, with daydreams of weekends and escapes. Questions are running through heads, but aren't said. The clock drags on as if the batteries are running low. Gossip seems to be the best thing to talk about. The lunch room isn't a buzz about who wants to play baseball and who wants to play basketball. The murmurs are the sounds of knifes being placed in others’ backs. The laughter isn't because a guy got cooties from Susie, but a joke one feels they must laugh at. An exaggerated viewpoint? Of course, that is just how I write. Training in big business America is filled with corporate ideologies and beliefs that once in the field don't hold as much truth as they as they should. They say one thing and yet we witness otherwise. We are young and want to change to the world, yet we follow suit while wearing suits.

No longer are the dreams of Slip N Slides and baseball cards. Kiss lyrics to "School's out for Summer," are not being played. We march to a new a beat, one that just happens to have 401 of them.