As a high school dropout myself, I often feel it is my duty to defend my fellow non-scholars. Common wisdom would have you believe we are the "bad kids", the future criminals, the worst sort of people. But not all dropouts will deal drugs, shoplift, or even shoot pool all day. My own favorite hooky hangout was always the public library. My early retirement meant that at last I had the time to read everything I wanted to. Best of all was the time I finally had to myself. I felt uncontrolled and free. I had been in school nearly my whole life. I wanted to find out for myself who I was, and until I did, everything else felt like a waste of time. To be honest, though, my daily life as a dropout consisted mostly of long hot baths, afternoon naps, and microwave food. After nearly three years of such self-centered pleasure, a series of strange thoughts began to enter my mind continuously. Images of myself at the age of 35-still living at home, collecting dust balls on the couch, reading the same book over and over-began to bother me in my sleep. And a voice in my head began asking over and over, "Who is paying the hot water bills? Who buys the microwave pizza?" The answer, of course, was my poor old parents. Sure, I was having a wonderful time doing plenty of nothing, discovering myself and all, but they were getting a raw deal. What parents long to see their child drop out of school, with no plans for the future? Could they be expected to support me forever? Certainly not. I had been visited by Our Lady of Perpetual Responsibility, and there was no looking back. I immediately moved out of the house and out of town, in search of a future for myself. And it is here, in my new home of San Francisco, that I have decided to do what was once unthinkable: go back to school. I plan to take adult education classes and get me GED (General Educational Development), and then enroll in City College. So next time you see a dropout, that unchangeable anti-student, be understanding. And please don't push him to do something he doesn't want to do. It never works. He'll come around when he's ready. Which question is NOT answered in the article?
When did the writer leave school? How was the writer's life as a dropout? What future plans did the writer have in San Francisco? What did the writer's parents say when he dropped out?
Question: As a high school dropout myself, I often feel it is my duty to defend my fellow non-scholars. Common wisdom would have you believe we are the "bad kids", the future criminals, the worst sort of people. But not all dropouts will deal drugs, shoplift, or even shoot pool all day. My own favorite hooky hangout was always the public library. My early retirement meant that at last I had the time to read everything I wanted to. Best of all was the time I finally had to myself. I felt uncontrolled and free. I had been in school nearly my whole life. I wanted to find out for myself who I was, and until I did, everything else felt like a waste of time. To be honest, though, my daily life as a dropout consisted mostly of long hot baths, afternoon naps, and microwave food. After nearly three years of such self-centered pleasure, a series of strange thoughts began to enter my mind continuously. Images of myself at the age of 35-still living at home, collecting dust balls on the couch, reading the same book over and over-began to bother me in my sleep. And a voice in my head began asking over and over, "Who is paying the hot water bills? Who buys the microwave pizza?" The answer, of course, was my poor old parents. Sure, I was having a wonderful time doing plenty of nothing, discovering myself and all, but they were getting a raw deal. What parents long to see their child drop out of school, with no plans for the future? Could they be expected to support me forever? Certainly not. I had been visited by Our Lady of Perpetual Responsibility, and there was no looking back. I immediately moved out of the house and out of town, in search of a future for myself. And it is here, in my new home of San Francisco, that I have decided to do what was once unthinkable: go back to school. I plan to take adult education classes and get me GED (General Educational Development), and then enroll in City College. So next time you see a dropout, that unchangeable anti-student, be understanding. And please don't push him to do something he doesn't want to do. It never works. He'll come around when he's ready. Which question is NOT answered in the article?
A. When did the writer leave school?
B. How was the writer's life as a dropout?
C. What future plans did the writer have in San Francisco?
D. What did the writer's parents say when he dropped out?
Answer: