A lot has changed in the 20-ahem years since I've graduated high school.
Tonight I got to go to my first curriculum night for my freshman daughter, walk her schedule and meet all her teachers in ten minute increments.
Why I thought heels were a good idea is beyond me. It's a big school. And her 5th period class is on the opposite end of the school and on another floor than her 4th period class. But she manages to get there on time every day so I was determined to do it too.
My knee only gave a little on the last flight of stairs.
After parking in the adjacent county and walking in said heels a few blocks to get back to the school I was on my way.
Her first period is PE. Poor thing. Sweaty all day. Thank God she's not one for primping and getting her hair just right. The woman was laid back, extremely reasonable, very informative and a mother of three girls herself. Love her teacher.
On to AP English - writing, reading, grammar, the works. They don't call it L.A. in here. Her teacher has a son on Ryan's football team who was born on the exact same day in the exact same place as my twins. They act out some scenes from the classic books they read. She messes with the freshman boys and asks them their tights size for the Romeo and Juliet unit. Love her teacher.
In Algebra 2 everything is on warp speed - her teacher also teaches applied computer science. The beauty is he cares more about how they finish the story than the points they accumulate along the way and has figured out how to mathematically program the scoring system so they get the most credit possible for their efforts and end results. Love her teacher.
In biology the man at the helm was an alumni himself...class of 1975, and good humored enough to share his high school photo, complete with plaid sportcoat and four-inch-wide tie. There was a sign in his room - Caution: Deadlines are closer than they appear. He had paper and pens so we could write them love notes and leave them behind. Love her teacher.
By some miracle I made it to her Spanish class tucked away behind the auditorium in a hallway labeled with room numbers that stopped shy of hers and met a straightforward woman who doubles as the assistant athletic director and couldn't say enough about what a gem my daughter was. Love her teacher.
Had time to kill for lunch/study hall so I visited the booster sales table, got a free oatmeal raisin cookie in the science atrium and stopped to chat for a few minutes with a friend in the hallway. We reminded each other that it's good our daughters aren't so mainstream socially because their faith will always be counter-cultural and we don't need to be concerned about them missing out on all the popular activities, like homecoming. Took a quick peek in the book fair, was thankful I forgot my checkbook and moved on to band.
Sat in the front row and realized the mom next to me had been in at least three other classes with me, introduced myself and found her to be delightful. The band director made us clap out a vertical rythym. Don't ask me. I don't know what it is, I don't play any instruments and I can't read music, but we did it in unison somehow. Love her teacher.
Most of my high school memories are gone, but the few that remain offer a wide spectrum of emotions. The best memories have to do with the relationships I had with just a few close friends, and the two or three teachers who made all the awful experiences more bearable.
I think my daughter is way ahead of the game on all fronts. And for that I am very encouraged. And grateful.