Hello Thursday! Meet my blog group, comprised of a fantastic group of ladies who will dazzle you with insight on various topics. After reading my post, check out their blogs as well. Just click on:
Froggie (Tracey): One frog’s distinct voice on the world around her.
Merry Land Girl (Melissa): Tales of a suburban mom who likes to talk about pop culture, books, Judaism, family, friendship and anything else that comes to mind.
Darwin Shrugged (Denise): Civilized Observations in an Uncivilized World
For this week, Tracey chose: One of the worst mistakes I’ve ever made.
Oh, man. I’ve made so many, and they’ve been doozies. Learning experiences, right?
What I’ve come to really regret later in life is the way I pissed away my high school education. It’s not that I don’t have fond memories, it’s just that mine consist of skipping school and not attending class, vs. being present and actually working towards doing well. My formative years didn’t begin that way. From first grade (I skipped kindergarten, maybe that’s the problem since you learn everything you need to know in kindergarten) to the middle of my sophomore year in high school, I was the model student. The one who got A’s and B’s. I remember the devastation I felt when I was shy of the honor roll one year in middle school. It was that damned home economics class. I scored an A in the cooking portion but failed miserably in sewing. An F and an A most certainly = C. Poor Sara and her 3.4 GPA.
High school Sara would have killed for that GPA! Once the skipping began, there was no turning back. I had classes I was enrolled in that I never showed up to, but would walk right by those very classes while hightailing it outside and away from school grounds. My entire junior year was like that, and no amount of catch up my senior year would help. I ended up dropping out and getting my diploma from a private Christian school. I paid $130/month of my own hard-earned money (which is a lot for a 17-year-old) in order to finish mass quantities of workbooks that were all religious-based. That didn’t bother me. What bothered me was watching my friends graduate 6 months before me. You know, when *I* should have graduated. I was there to cheer them on, but I was also depressed and upset about the whole thing. I brought it on myself, but the logistics of that didn’t stop the tears I shed when seeing people I’d grown up with clutching their diplomas in their hands.
My graduation was a very small affair. It was held inside a church, and there were maybe 20 of us. I don’t remember if I wore a cap and gown. That could be wishful thinking on my part. Our teacher, Pastor Larry, handed out bibles to the graduates, and inside he left bible verses that pertained to each of us. I still have mine: John 17:3, and Rom 8, 9, 10. He was a super cool guy, even giving me a gecko as a graduation present. (The gecko later died from heat exposure. It escaped from its enclosure and got stuck in my bedroom window, directly in a sunbeam. Figures.)
I have friends whose children are now teenagers, and they are actively involved in many of the extracurricular activities school has to offer. In part, I envy them. I know if I went back to high school now, I would rock that! I’d totally revel in my primary responsibilities consisting of getting good grades, and doing drama/choir/school newspaper, etc. I know I’d have the patience and the maturity, the focus that I lacked when I was a teenager. Only, this does me no good now, as a soon-to-be 36-year-old! That ship has sailed! College is my only option, but since I’m not entirely sure what I want to be when I grow up, shelling out the money for a college degree wouldn’t do me any favors right now.
No matter. It’s not like I can go back, and what’s done is done. I learned plenty from the Christian school and the place I deem “Park 101“, and at least I can say I have fond memories of my teen years. The best part: no one seems to notice (or care) when I attend the high school reunions or meet-ups. No one remembers my overly roguish ways, or if they do- they’re being nice about it and keeping their mouths shut.
Imagine that. I take this quiz (What is your high school stereotype?), and I get “rebel”.