my first day of school was in 2002; i was fifteen. i went to t.j.maxx with my mother, bought the requisite outfits for full social success: jeans with too much spandex and whisker washing, double zip cable sweaters, and cap sleeved baby tees. despite the wardrobe overhaul (complete with new payless clogs), the friend requests did not come pouring in. i blame it on the sleeveless turtleneck, an abominably frumpy and unnecessary creation, which made its way into my weekly outfit routine in various colors and weights. its origin in my closet is unclear, but i rode that look to death for my first year of school. the turtleneck in general was a staple of my look; my sophomore school picture is of me in a thick green turtleneck sweater, my favorite, because it "brought out my eyes". unfortunately, it also brought out my ears which feature prominently on either side of my gangly spectacled face. hair up was a bad choice.
that first day, experienced by my peers ten years earlier, was not as strange as you might think. i had been taking classes at lebanon high school for the previous year, and at the junior high the year before that. i'd ride my bike in mid-day, after doing some biology lab involving creek water sampling, and sing in both the regular chorus and the audition-only chorus, "superlatives". my friends were either in the music program or were people i had met through teen community theater; sometimes, i'd sit in on a math class with them to kill some time and would revel in the novelty ideas of homework and pop quizzes. i became somewhat known as "that homeschooled girl", which didn't make me cool but did put me on the radar so i didn't vanish into obscurity. if i'd gone to public school from the start, like everyone else, by high school i would have been written off as a nerd, weirdo, music geek, or worse, overlooked completely.
so, because of my previous part-time status, my first day basically felt like any other. i had to wake up a little early, and my father took a picture of me in the kitchen before i left, but i walked familiar halls once i arrived. i set up a mirror and magnetic pen holder in my locker, which i shared with a stranger because of my delayed enrollment, took out my brand new five-star notebook, and finally entered the world of 50 minute class periods and required study halls.
it may not have been the best decision for my educational development; i was put in a mid-difficulty string of classes for the first year and spent a lot of time doing busywork, learning the bare minimum. my problem in the transition was that for the past year i had been teaching myself directly from textbooks; my mother, also teaching four other children, would give me weekly assignments, only checking to make sure they were completed. this system,"this week, read chapters 14-28, do five chapters of math problems, and complete five science labs/tests", meant that procrastination was completely viable as long as everything was done by friday. believe me, i took advantage of that. i had a college student's schedule: sleep in, do nothing all day, then cram in the work till two at night. i have no idea why this was allowed to continue for so long. as a result, at the end of my ninth grade year and the following summer, when i decided to go to public school, i still had half of my math book left to complete and about twenty labs and reports to do. i tried to cram it in but didn't finish and as a punishment my mother gave me a failing grade in biology. i mean, i deserved it, but i still think she should have let it slide. that "f" coupled with a poor grade in algebra convinced my guidance counselor that i was second-rate and started me on level 2 classes. if only i could have written an admissions essay instead; my reading comprehension, writing, grammar, and spelling were far beyond my grade level.
regardless of flaws in the public educational system and in my self-control, the decision to stop homeschooling has resulted in a then-unexpected path of art school and philadelphia living that probably would never have come about otherwise. it's a bit much, now, to project such importance on that day, but i like that my fifteen year old self was so clueless about what she was getting into, so wrapped up in the moment like all other teenagers.
this is making me want to read my old diaries; maybe that will be my next post.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment