What do you do when someone catches you bent beneath a hand dryer, arms in the air and body thrown beneath the hot air?
Do you squawk and bolt in panic? Do you leave it unacknowledged? Do you pretend that you're doing bathroom yoga? ("Oh, don't mind me. Just my morning routine. This is the ... squatting duck ... and breathe ... and quack.")
I always preferred squawking. The bolt and squawk combo was one of the most memorable skills high school taught me. And now, should I need it, I have a glittering future as chicken impersonator. How did school teach me this? In Year 11, I found out I had a skin condition. It made me sweat like I was standing in a customs line with three vipers stashed in my knickers.
It didn't make school particularly fun. I was already unattractive, shy and bored shitless. Being caught in a compromising position with a hand drier every other week didn't improve the situation.
But it was one of the most practical skills school taught me. It floated back to mind when I read the speech that went viral this week by Anela Pritchard, who criticised the lack of practical skills taught in school. Pritchard also touched on common themes for high school students: dissatisfaction with teachers, the irritation with lifeless learning, the feeling of futility. Suddenly, I was back in high school like I'd just applied a layer of orange foundation.
But whatever we may think about the content of her speech is kind of irrelevant. It's not really what she said that's important - it was the act of saying it.
On the surface it might not look very impressive. Making a speech against teachers doesn't look quite so ballsy when you've left school and met some of the mad, bad and weird people in the world. But when you're a teenager school is a consuming, dominating place. School controls what you wear, when you eat, where you go, what you study, what you do on weekends ... it's immersive. It's your first real encounter with authority outside the family.
So when you're 15, standing up to school is standing up to the biggest power you know. In terms of pure rebellious fire, you've got to hand it to the girl. Being rebellious, and I mean properly rebellious, is hard.
I'm not talking about being edgy. Edgy is doing something a bit controversial but something you know people will probably still think is cool. Like going out partying or smoking or sleeping around. Being rebellious is when you do something controversial and you know people won't think it's cool, or acceptable or wise. When you're rebellious you're risking something, when you're edgy you're not, and so rebelliousness is much harder. It's also really important for the future.
On Wednesday, the Australian Government passed legislation that can be used to imprison professionals working in asylum seeker centres if they talk about the conditions. It has been met with incredible resistance, the Australian Medical Association denouncing it for "fuelling concerns about a lack of scrutiny and accountability in the operation of immigration detention centres".
The people, like the AMA, who rebel on these big issues have to be tough. They have to be fearless, committed individuals who believe so strongly in a cause that they'll risk jail for what they believe is right. And to be that tough takes practice and that means you have to start as early as possible.
So we should be supporting intelligent, intellectual rebels like Anela. We need people to stand up to authority as much as possible because they need the practice at it. That way, when the Government or a multinational want to force through something controversial, we have people who are prepared to challenge them.
People like her go on to take on the big bosses. It's a tough, lonely and absolutely essential job if you want to preserve the voice of democracy.