I was never that keene on school. I did like second grade but it was all downhill from there.
I told a tale of a first grade experience in First Grade and the Power of Words, which I suppose set the tone for my entire school career.
There were a few highs and lows along the way. The lows seem to stick out the most in my mind. Like the time I peed my pants (uh…dress, it was the 60s and we were required to wear dresses) while at recess. Hey, it was my turn to be the rope twirler while playing jump rope. I wasn’t much for bucking the system back in the early days.
And the time I threw-up in the hallway, right in front of the water fountain, as luck would have it, while the class across the hall looked on, ‘yuking’ and ‘ewing’ all the while. Yeah, didn’t quite make it to the restroom.
And the time I thought I could tip-toe through the spilled chili, to return my tray. Didn’t quite make that either. I went down along with my uneaten chili. I got a standing ovation. And this was just elementary school!
High school is a story all it’s own. Like my 8th grade picture for the yearbook which became my last yearbook picture.
It wasn’t about the classes or the work mind you…okay, it was a little about the classes. I didn’t want to do the work. Nope, it was more about the people. I got off on the wrong foot with the sorority
bitc, er…girls…sorority girls. We went to the same parties, dated the same guys, but I just didn’t make the cut with that group. Gotta love high school.
And the time I lied (that was then) to the gym teacher and told her my dad was laid off and we couldn’t afford a gym suit. Did I mention I hated gym class? Busted when she called my mom.
That’s when I decided to do the only (ir)responsible thing I knew to do…I cut classes…as in, I cut classes for six weeks. Let me tell you, driving around by myself for six hours five days a week got pretty darn old. Good thing gas was only 70 cents a gallon then! (It was the late 70s). The one consolation was Tuesday mornings. My mom went to a Bible study. I was able to go home for a little nap. Just had to make sure I was out of the house by 11:30 because she usually arrived back home at noon. Tuesdays were the best!
When the school finally caught on and called my parents, I was sadly, and assuredly waaaay behind in my classes. They (the school) were pretty much finished with me by then and they (the school) gave me an ultimatum…come Monday or don’t come back at all.
The weekend passed all too quickly. I had made up my mind to suck it up and go, knowing I would have to do summer school (do they still have summer school?). I was good with that. Whatever it took. I was determined.
I had every intention of going Monday morning. I picked up all the peeps who rode to school with me and off we went. I pulled in the parking lot and found a space. Everyone got out of the car…everyone but me. I just couldn’t do it.
I still remember the feelings as I drove away from that school. I knew there was no going back. I was disappointed in myself, a little ashamed and a wee bit embarrassed, but there was a hint of relief as well.
I got my GED a few months before my class graduated, and went on to take some college classes, where I excelled, so it really wasn’t about the work.
Not one of the finer moments of my life. Not something I’m proud of. I would like a do-over in that department. I would have been a good candidate for home school. Could be why I chose to home school my own kids…just saying.
This post is part of a week long blogging event from The SITS GIRLS.
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