I went trick or treating this year. My friend and I rushed home from volleyball, showered, straightened our hair, found the largest pillow cases we had, hid our costumes beneath sweatpants and fuzzy jackets and ventured out into what turned into an increasingly blustery evening.

We were followed by what was undoubtedly a pack of eighth graders who had consumed far more than the appropriate amount of candy for the night.

We started off breaking into sprints between houses; but after a few one hundred yard dashes, I dropped onto a neighbor’s front porch and, sitting on the ground, was barely able to muster another “trick or treat.”

The solution? As a 16-year-old trick-or-treater, well, I cheated. My friend and I mustered up just enough energy to shuffle back to her house, pile into my car and weave through the hordes of children on the street until we found a suitable parking spot positioned strategically between three streets.  

 

I hate scary movies.

And as the latest frightening film sweeps its way through America, yielding pandemonium and leaving thousands of people afraid to go to sleep in its wake, I refuse to see it and cower when the previews come on television. For the record, these “previews” show little actual footage and focus more on audience reactions … still incredibly alarming to me.  

I don’t understand the point of seeing a scary movie. Why spend upwards of $10 to hide your face in either your friends arm or the arm of the stranger next to you. The point being, you spend more time cowering into a shoulder than actually enjoying the full effect of the film.

Afterward, viewers enter this post-movie state of shock for the rest of the night. I spent a full four or five hours with friends who had seen a scary movie and I was able to convince them multiple times that demons were coming for them. Yes, it was mean, but so very fun.

What is this hysteria with people wanting to pay money to be afraid? Is it enjoyable not being able to sleep alone for a week? I didn’t think so.
 

The recent donut attendance initiative – noticed and, most importantly, tasted by lucky first-hour students during the leading weeks of school – stands out as the most direct and recognizable facet of a school-wide scheme to increase first-hour attendance and entice students to be present and accounted for when the morning bell rings.

What is the motivation behind this form of glazed, sprinkled or powdered-sugar bribery? The high school wanted to have a positive impact on everyone, something to encourage students this year to place additional effort in arriving to class on time.

Is it debasing to have to bribe, I mean, sugarcoat first-hour attendance for high school students?