Back in the olden days, when dinosaurs roamed the earth and disco was thought to be good music, I scarcely awakened in the dead of night of my own volition, preparing for elementary school in the friendly glow of morning sun. Today, that is merely a memory, as I am currently rudely awakened well in advance of sunrise on a daily basis.
In a well-orchestrated quotidian death march, millions of Americans rise like zombies in the twilight hours to go to school, work, and their daily lives. When I arrive at school in the morning, I gaze at the half-alert faces of my peers and think only of how much sleep they eschewed to read those last few pages, complete that project, or shred those marriage certificates.
I frequently struggle to stay awake in class, and I am quite certain I’m not alone in this. Teenagers’ circadian rhythms, the biological processes that regulate daily activity, are diametrically opposed to early rising; even an adolescent with a considerable lack of sleep may have difficulty going to bed at a “reasonable” hour by no fault of their own. The average teenager receives only 6.5 hours of sleep each night, a far cry from the recommended 9.
Sleep deprivation is commonly known to be deleterious to mental and physical functions, decreasing reaction time, critical thinking ability, and feeling of overall well-being, as countless studies have proven — and evidence continues to pile in the favor of sufficient sleep being a fundamental part of good health. The nuclear meltdowns of Three-Mile Island and Chernobyl are thought to have been caused, at least in part, by sleep-deprived operators. If sleep is a matter of life or death, why is it such a low priority?
The answer is simple: for Americans, productivity is second only to sainthood. Like simple-minded men flexing their muscles to woo an uninterested mate, lack of sleep is often commended as “tough” or “hard-working;” similarly, those who sleep eight hours a night are condemned for their apparent sloth. Schools across Colorado commonly begin classes at ungodly hours, my own at 7:21 a.m., not unusual for a high school. The occasional “late-start” days are universally heralded as welcome opportunities to gain more shut-eye.
In spite of the the rhetoric frequently thrown about at school board meetings everywhere blaming the poor performance of schools on any number of factors from finances to lack of parental involvement, rarely is it suggested that achievement could be boosted by allowing students to sleep according to a more reasonable schedule.
The Denver School of Science and Technology, a public charter school, begins its days at 8:15 a.m., and judging by its fantastic academic results, starting later is clearly not a detriment to student progress. Even in the latitudes of Colorado, a person who awakens at 6 a.m. each day is greeted by darkness for around four months of the year, instinctively encouraging them to return to their slumber. While we may no longer need to live by the agrarian clock, nature has every intention of slowing our nighttime activity — perhaps we should take some cues.
I mean not to sound like an embittered, world-loathing adolescent who seeks only to laze around in bed constantly, but the facts are staggering: the teenage years are the apex of human development, and sleep plays an integral role in this. I try to sleep a decent amount each night, but under a torrential downpour of homework and other obligations, sometimes it’s difficult to find time to explore the world beneath my eyelids, particularly when the “recommended” amount of sleep would involve my slumbering prior to that of the sun.
I like to think that I speak for teenagers everywhere in saying that even an extra hour of sleep would result in the infinite gratitude of teachers and students, an increase in happiness, and a boost to academic performance. Sometimes, forty winks just isn’t enough. Although it is breathtaking to witness a mountain sunrise, seeing the world through well-rested eyes is perhaps the most beautiful thing of all.
Tom Roberts (addictedtosemicolons@gmail.com) is a senior at Araphaoe High School in Centennial and full-time smart aleck. EDITOR’S NOTE: This is an online-only column and has not been edited.
