No matter how long you've been around, some things never change. And by that, I don't just mean Donald Trump hair jokes or the misuse of the world "literally." I'm talking about the annual back to school trauma that strikes pretty much everyone under the age of 18 right around this time of year.
I used to hate the end of summer vacation and the start of fall/winter/spring torture. All of my friends hated it. When I grew up and had friends who became teachers, they hated it. My own kids have hated it. Nobody likes trading sleeping late and hanging out with friends for getting up earlier and, well, hanging out with friends. (With the probable exception of that kid in the front row whose mom dressed him and always raised his hand to answer every question.)
Then there's the end of summer as an 8th grader and the transition to the first day of high school, which is the most brutal of all. The high school experience is already hard, with a social structure that makes even North Korea look like a night out in Bangkok. Then, add to that the fact that at least 50 percent of all movies, shows, books and music in the country were created by or at least inspired by people who had horrible experiences in high school. So as a result of every Mean Girls and Freaks & Geeks and Catcher In the Rye, high school seems like a gulag even before our kids get there.
Just ask my daughter, who started high school today. (Actually, don't ask her. If she knew I was sharing this, I'd get an hour lecture about how uncool I've just made her.) Everything was fine right up until yesterday afternoon. Her best friend was going to the school with her. The place is barely a mile from my house. Her older brother had gone there, so she knew all the teachers. And yet....she was terrified to point of tears last night.
I tried all the usual tropes to ease her mind. We went out for comfort food (pot pies and root beer). I reminded her that millions of people go to high school every day, and they make it through just fine. Maybe everyone won't be her friend, but in a month, she'll have found confidants she'll keep for the rest of her life. Besides, she absolutely loves music and this high school has one of the nicest, best music teachers in the district. All she had to do was keep an open mind and give things a chance. School would turn out just fine.
Of course, it's easy to say that when I know that I'll never have to attend high school again. I told her about my own ninth through twelfth grade experiences, which involved moving to three different cities and attending three different high schools. I had the buck-toothed, Coke-bottle glasses, mommy's haircut look going for me. At my 20th reunions for each school, hardly anyone remembered me till they saw that yearbook picture on my nametag. At which point, everyone laughed.
I finally told my daughter goodnight, reassuring here that everything would work out fine the next day, but I knew she still didn't believe me. In fact, she was still so stressed out that it left me a nervous wreck because I felt so bad for her. Neither of us slept much, so it was quite the ride to school this morning. I repeated all the standard stuff about giving it a chance, keeping an open mind and just being the good person she's always been. I dropped her off at the front gate, making sure not to deliver any embarrassing kisses or hugs she'd never live down.
I watched her go to the gate, where the friend she's known since kindergarten was waiting for her. They ran together and hugged for a solid 10 seconds, then turned around and headed in to class. By the time I picked her up this afternoon, she was smiling and telling me about her classes and some of the kids she'd met already
I know this doesn't mean it's four years of bliss ahead. Come on....I went to high school. I've seen John Hughes movies. Still, after seeing my daughter and her friend embracing, I couldn't help but feel a new appreciation for high school.
Like pretty much every parent everywhere, I spend a healthy part of my day complaining about how technology has destroyed my kids. They almost never take a break from their phones - always texting, or Tweet-ing or otherwise experiencing human relationships via a four-inch tall screen. They observe people interacting. They share words that are foreplay for interacting. But most of the time, said the Get Off My Lawn Guy, they never actually interact.
Which is what I now love about high school. Sure the fear and contempt it inspires are universal and everlasting. However, the same can be said of everyday life. Like high school, life is real and unfiltered, immediate and intense. And that's not such a bad thing in a world where Friend-ing is considered making a friend and posting an Instagram picture of your breakfast passes for sharing your life with someone.
Say what you will about high school. However, after watching my text-addicted daughter's day turn around after a good old-fashioned embrace with a friend and facing the very institution she was afraid of, I realized something. High school is far from perfect, but at least it helps kids learn to feel real emotions (both good and bad) and not words on screens. Come to think of it, maybe we could all use a little more high school to slap us back into reality. As long is it doesn't include any algebra or rope climbing in gym class.