New School Policy: Consciousness is Optional for Class

It’s in-class finals week. Students are beginning to pitch their tents and sleeping bags on the Tribeca Bridge, a growing number of students are claiming to have amnesia in the middle of tests, and teachers are beginning to accept that they will be teaching an empty classroom for the duration of the semester. Students have resorted to using the Tribeca Bridge’s temporary scaffold wrapping as a hammock, and freshman are, as usual, complaining about not being able to go to sleep at 8:00 p.m.

A set of new school-wide policies changes all of that. Alarmed by the number of students sleeping with their eyes open and displaying a very unusual concern for their students’ well-being, the school has made a decision to make consciousness completely optional for class. Teachers, for the first time in Stuyvesant history, are now encouraged to allow students to sleep in class, as long as they sleep on a textbook relating to the subject being taught. The student will be able to learn the material via diffusion, from the textbook’s vast stores of knowledge to the relatively empty brain of the student. Most students agreed wholeheartedly with the decision, but some students have found the administration’s decision to be concerning.

“Ever since they’ve implemented the policies, it’s been strange—I mean, stranger than strange. A sleeping kid in my health class murmured, “1590 is a good score! Please, mom, I’m hungry,” with tears silently creeping down his cheeks. And I overheard my health teacher mumble, “Urine is contained in the testes” in her sleep. “That’s just my first period class,” claimed a freshman who preferred to remain anonymous (but they all look the same anyway). “With all of their students sleeping, my teachers give up teaching and go to sleep themselves.”

Junior Iawad Zmrose, upon hearing the news, was ecstatic. “I thought I would have to give up my five-hour nap when I come back from school for studying, but now that I can sleep and study at the same time during school hours, I can dedicate my time to pursuing my passions, like becoming an epic competitive Big Fish gamer,” said Zmrose, oblivious to angry stares from members in his group chat who were bombarded with Big Fish messages at 4:00 a.m.

The Spectator also attempted to reach teachers, but they told us to leave the classroom so as not to disturb the sleeping students. The only school official kind enough to speak with The Spectator was the AP of Health, Security, and P.E. Brian Moran. After yielding our cellular devices (“It’s just policy,” Moran said), he welcomed us into his office and began to speak. “Teachers just didn’t want to teach—I mean, for the health and well-being of our students. Health is the most important thing to us,” explained Moran as he gave us a pained grin. “That is also why teachers make all of their tests and projects due on the same day.”

Will the new school policies ultimately be beneficial? Only time will tell. In the meantime, visit the school store! It is now selling new merchandise, including a sweater with pillows for arms, a Supreme sleep mask, AirPods for the Poor™, and an exotic brown liquid known as “coffee.”