When I entered high school four decades ago (yikes!) the first lesson I learned wasn’t extracted from a bio lab or a book of American poems. It was more of a pop psychology lesson: Being social is easier and more fun than being studious. So, I redirected my energies and focus from books to boys.
This was the late-70s, before weekly progress reports and 24/7 digital school portals, so it took a while for my parents (both trained educators) to pick up on their formerly studious daughter’s about-face. When they did, they seemed more perplexed than upset. Mom took me to lunch one afternoon for a heart-to-heart. Was I struggling? (No.) Was I overwhelmed by such a big school? (Definitely not.) Would I, perhaps, rather go to the all-girls Academy of the Sacred Heart a few towns over? (OMG, are you kidding?!)
I remember the day very well. The place – an outdoor bistro, the lunch – full of greens and delicious, the time – alone with my mom, not rushed, a real treat in our big family. But, it seems, I blocked out a big piece of that conversation (which my mother shared with me years later, much to my horror).