High School

A picture from early in Jonas' kindergarten year.
A picture from early in Jonas’ kindergarten year.

Today is another First Day Of School.

Jonas starts his high school career today.

When he started middle school, I blogged anxiously. My own middle school life was tough. Thinking about it makes my stomach start to roll around, honestly. Yet Jonas survived it…even some days, he seemed to thrive there.

High School means something different to me. For the most part, I loved high school.

Sure, high school was the scene for my first real crush and my first real heartbreak.

In high school, I first met teachers who did not like me. Up until then, teachers always liked me.

It was also the place where I met my most favorite teacher ever.

It was the place where I discovered my love for sociology and psychology…and the place where I mourned when I learned that my sociology/psych teacher was killed in a terrible accident.

It was where I first stood up for someone else–a classmate that I thought the teacher was bullying. It was also the place where I learned to apologize when my passionate, well-meaning words crossed the line to disrespectful and rude.

The best picture I got this morning. He's smiling, so that's a good thing!
The best picture I got this morning. He’s smiling, so that’s a good thing!

In high school, I had to buy stocks for an Econ project. I chose Pepsi and Disney. I never did figure out the stock market, but it’s not because Mr. Edgecomb didn’t give it his best shot with me.

I took Hutch’s trigonometry and analytical geometry class my senior year and made the mistake** of missing two weeks of it in the Spring (took a trip to Israel with my church). He barely passed me. It was the only bad grade I got during my entire high school career.

I took four years of tough classes, but I managed to squeeze in some fun electives, too. I took one of the most valuable classes of my high school career–typing. I learned to speak Spanish. I took a class about solving world problems and a songwriting class. I joined Key Club, Honor Society and studied hard for the spell bowl and academic super bowl teams.  I played no sports, but earned a letter–in academics.

I had great high school friends. So many smart, funny, generous, mature beyond their years friends. We got into plenty of mischief, but not a terrible, destructive kind. Remember the time we TP’d Chris’ house? It was the kind of mischief that I’d be okay with Jonas making…of course, he might actually aim more for the other kind. I’ll be keeping an eye on that.

I went to football games, rode on a bus to Indianapolis to watch the basketball team play in the state tournament, helped make a float for the homecoming parade, went to many casual dances and the senior prom, skipped school once or twice with friends and did a whole bunch of other really fun things.

Being in the Class of ’96 was full of kicks. (I was not in the poetry club or on the cheerleading squad, obviously.)

IMG_5139Today, Jonas heads to ninth grade. He has Gym. He has Algebra. He has World Civilization–Advanced (Yikes–really? That sounds awesome and hard.). He’s in the Red Unit. He just got his haircut.

He’s going to _____ this. (Insert whatever word is currently the trendy thing to say right now. I wanted to say, “he’s going to rock this” or “he’s going to crush this,” but I’m a “super lame parent who’s been out of high school for a million [ahem–17]  years and no matter what I’m not cool like I think I am and I better not try to come hang out at the high school this year just because I can call it work.” So basically, just insert whatever word will land you a seat at the cool kids’ lunch table in 2013.)

Good luck class of 2017!

**Note: I do not think missing two weeks of my senior year of high school to go to Israel was a mistake. Some things are more important than school and some things provide an education you’ll never get in a classroom. If Jonas had the opportunity to travel overseas and it meant missing school, I wouldn’t even hesitate. But Mr. Hutchison thought it was a terrible mistake.

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