a fool in school

I feel like I deal with some fairly strong feelings on one subject in my life. SCHOOL.

In elementary school, I loved school. I loved doing well, and excelled. I remember loving my teachers, loving hanging out with my friends, loving being in class, loving playing at lunch time, loving competing with a few of my friends to see who could get the perfect score on math tests... It was a good time.

In grade 6 (when I was 11), I changed schools so that I could enter the French Immersion program. It's fairly self-explanatory - they immerse you in French. The teacher taught all subjects (except English!) in French, and thus, the class learned very quickly how to manage, then squawk out words, then (after a surprisingly short time) speak fairly comfortably. I loved it. I LOVED it!! But this is when my academic performance started sliding a little. It could be because of the French, or it could be because of the fact that we were getting a little older and the curriculum was getting harder. Either way, that feeling of not being quite as good as the rest started humming deep in my ear.

When I started highschool, I was 13. That's right, a very social 13 year old. At my first report card, I got nearly straight "N's" (needs improvement) and by the end of the year, I barely passed my academic classes. (I excelled in the arts and PE though!!) That was a good wake-up call. I worked harder in grade 9, but to little avail. I rested in the C to C- range in academics (still excelling in the arts though). Grade 10 was the year I worked my buns off. I mean it. I was going to get those grades up and out of the ditch! By the end of the year, I think I had brought about 2/3 of my academics up to C's. I felt defeated. I felt stupid. I felt like there was something crucial I was missing out on, and I couldn't put my foot on it. I was SO sick of being told by teachers that if only I would try a little harder, I'd really do well.

In grade 11, my family moved and I changed schools. It was a good change, from a huge school to a smaller one. I continued to work hard, and managed to do alright. Because of my failings in the academics (mostly sciences and math), I took as few as possible, and the ones I did take I got C+'s in. I excelled in art, photography, a variety of music courses, and the languages. I got A's in those. I mean it - I did really well. But, because of the emphasis on the academic subjects, I always felt like I was second rate. I was not good enough. Something was missing. I ended up dropping out of Biology 12 after the first semester when I was barely scraping a D.

I still don't know why I couldn't pass. I certainly found the content of the classes interesting! I loved learning about it, but something about the way things were evaluated, or the way I was expressing what I was learning was not being heard.

I took a small handful of college courses before Ryan and I got married. I didn't do too badly, but still struggled to really do WELL. I also really struggled with being evaluated. I felt a combination of shame and anger. How dare they try and give me a grade!? They have no idea how much I've learned and how much time and work has been put in!! The reaction is almost funny, but not the feelings.

And now, as an adult, I still struggle with feeling adequate. Sometimes I feel just plain dumb, although I know I'm not. I'm actually pretty dang smart, people!! :)

And now I'm up against the beginning of my first child's education. This coming September is when she's supposed to start Kindergarten. I have so many feelings. So many. I try so hard to keep my own biases out of the equation, but it's hardly possible!! I don't want her to be made to feel like she doesn't measure up! Who are they to make someone feel that way? Who are they to make MY child feel that way!?

I know that Plava is not me. She is a different person, and heck, maybe she'll totally be an academic. Whether she is or isn't isn't important to me in the least. What I hope for above all is that she loves learning, cares for others, and is content with who she is.

In my thinking about Plava's schooling, I have thought through many different options. There are, after all, many available, and don't I want what's best for Plava? Why yes, I do. I want to have her in a school where she thrives and learns and develops to the best of her potential.

As it so happens, this year is the first year that Kindergarten is a full-day deal. It used to be half days, which sounded like a really nice transition for both Plava and I. But now the school system is insisting that children like Plava go from three short afternoon classes of preschool straight into five full days of school. Woah dudes. Woah. I am NOT okay with that. It has kind of forced us to do some much needed thinking about what is important to us in our children's education. There is one school about a 20 minute drive away that is still offering half day kindergarten, but it's a French Immersion program, and we hadn't wanted to put her in that so young. There's our local school which is a stone's throw away but is only offering full-day classes. There's a program about 15 minutes away that is a hybrid between school and home-learning, where the kids go one day a week for classes and do the rest at home.

In short, we have some decisions to make. We're trying to keep an open mind and explore all the options, but we just don't know yet. We'll be taking a tour of the hybrid program's school this week, so that might help us have a clearer idea of whether it's something for us and Plava. This isn't easy, this schooling thing!!

All of this thinking brings me right back to my days in school. I recently came across my old high school report cards and while reading through the comments, had a hard time not crying. I can't believe how deep those old feelings go. Sometimes people tell me that they don't know how I can "do everything". I can sew, paint, cook, play guitar, piano, mandolin, sing, write music, do a DANG good job at mothering (haha)....the list goes on (and on, and on...tee hee). It's ironic, isn't it? I should feel proud of my accomplishments rather than holding on to this feeling of inadequacy and failure. Why would I think that some level of education, or some great academic accomplishment would make me a better person?

It can't! I'm a-okay! I am more than a-okay! I'm ME.

(...but perhaps a little counseling would help - yikes!)