Tuesday, May 31, 2011
I went through a phase where, when I knew I would be in trouble because of the poor choices I had made, I would just run away. I can remember three times I chose to run away.
During 6th grade, my family lived in a tiny rental house while my parents built their home in Draper. This was an emotionally difficult year for my family, since it was right on the heels of losing my baby brother John, who was stillborn. I made some pretty dumb choices, which sure didn't help. For example, at Christmas I talked my sisters into carefully unwrapping our presents and peaking at them, and I told Lisa there was no Santa Claus.
The following summer, my mom was teaching summer school, and while she was gone I was in charge of making sure the chores, piano practicing, etc. got done. They usually didn't, and I usually got in trouble.
After one particular fight with my mom. I decided my family would be better off without me, and I took off. I walked to the Stake Center and sat on the stairs and cried. I was really angry, but I also realized that I really didn't do as much as I could to help my mom. I wanted to punish myself, so I decided I should try walking to school to see what it would be like if I didn't have my mom to drive me. My family lived on 5400 South and 4000 West, and school was in Sandy. I knew the way, and I managed to walk all the way to the 2-15 entrance at Redwood Road, and I even walked a pretty decent distance along the side of 2-15. But apparently people aren't allowed to walk along the freeway - good to know - and I got picked up by the cops. They called my parents, who were pretty mortified to have to come to the police station to get me.
Both of the other times I ran away were because I didn't want to tell my parents about my less-than-perfect report cards. I don't remember which came first. On one pre-planned occasion, I gathered all the money I could find in our house, wrote a note for my mom, and decided I was going to live at South Towne mall. But by accident, I left the note in the van of my carpool who called my mom who found me before I'd even been at the mall for a half hour. She demanded to know the real reason I had run away, and I was forced to give her the report card I'd been withholding. The other time, I ran away to across the street, where there was an old barn. I went in there and decided that's where I would stay. But it was disgusting, and there was really old pornography all over the place, and it really freaked me out. Sadly, those images that will never leave my head. I don't remember my parents finding me this time, so I'm guessing I just gave up and went home.
During 6th grade, my family lived in a tiny rental house while my parents built their home in Draper. This was an emotionally difficult year for my family, since it was right on the heels of losing my baby brother John, who was stillborn. I made some pretty dumb choices, which sure didn't help. For example, at Christmas I talked my sisters into carefully unwrapping our presents and peaking at them, and I told Lisa there was no Santa Claus.
The following summer, my mom was teaching summer school, and while she was gone I was in charge of making sure the chores, piano practicing, etc. got done. They usually didn't, and I usually got in trouble.
After one particular fight with my mom. I decided my family would be better off without me, and I took off. I walked to the Stake Center and sat on the stairs and cried. I was really angry, but I also realized that I really didn't do as much as I could to help my mom. I wanted to punish myself, so I decided I should try walking to school to see what it would be like if I didn't have my mom to drive me. My family lived on 5400 South and 4000 West, and school was in Sandy. I knew the way, and I managed to walk all the way to the 2-15 entrance at Redwood Road, and I even walked a pretty decent distance along the side of 2-15. But apparently people aren't allowed to walk along the freeway - good to know - and I got picked up by the cops. They called my parents, who were pretty mortified to have to come to the police station to get me.
Both of the other times I ran away were because I didn't want to tell my parents about my less-than-perfect report cards. I don't remember which came first. On one pre-planned occasion, I gathered all the money I could find in our house, wrote a note for my mom, and decided I was going to live at South Towne mall. But by accident, I left the note in the van of my carpool who called my mom who found me before I'd even been at the mall for a half hour. She demanded to know the real reason I had run away, and I was forced to give her the report card I'd been withholding. The other time, I ran away to across the street, where there was an old barn. I went in there and decided that's where I would stay. But it was disgusting, and there was really old pornography all over the place, and it really freaked me out. Sadly, those images that will never leave my head. I don't remember my parents finding me this time, so I'm guessing I just gave up and went home.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
When I left Challenger after 6th grade, I had to decide where to go from there. My choices were Crescent View (where the kids in my ward went) or Midvale, where they had the ALPS program. Being raised to value education and not really having friends in the ward anyway, I chose Midvale.
I easily tested into the ALPS program, and I vaguely remember some of my classes. My day started with some form of a literature class. I loved the teacher, but the class had only 11 kids in it, 10 of whom had gone to school together their entire lives. I was an outcast. Even though I was asked to be in special programs and on teams - the point of which I really can't remember - I was never really accepted.
My next class was English, where I hated my teacher. He often made inaccurate statements about grammar, and I would stay after class to correct him. I felt superior to him and consequently felt I had nothing to prove. I wrote the assigned research paper, but decided to not turn it in. I failed the final quarter of English.
I'm sure I had a math class. I have blocked out so much of 7th grade from my memory that I don't have a single distinct memory of a teacher, classroom, or classmate. Nor can I conjure a memory of the lunchroom. I do recall walking through the halls, completely alone, with my nose in a book.
Choir was okay. By 7th grade, I was already a pretty good accompanist, and I do remember being one of my choir director's favorites. I think I even got to sing a solo on one song. But I don't remember a single student from the class.
I'm betting I took science and history, too. I think I maybe remember the history teacher. He used to read to us from the Reader's Digest, because we had class right after lunch, and he thought people should have a story after lunch. He would read us the "Real Life Heroes" stories, and that is when I got hooked on the Reader's Digest, still my favorite magazine.
I vaguely remember hanging out with some guy. Maybe his name was Gavin. I think he was the closest thing I had to a friend.
I went from being Student Body President at Challenger to being completely lost in a school where I had no one. It's a time in my life I don't talk about, mostly just because I don't remember it.
I easily tested into the ALPS program, and I vaguely remember some of my classes. My day started with some form of a literature class. I loved the teacher, but the class had only 11 kids in it, 10 of whom had gone to school together their entire lives. I was an outcast. Even though I was asked to be in special programs and on teams - the point of which I really can't remember - I was never really accepted.
My next class was English, where I hated my teacher. He often made inaccurate statements about grammar, and I would stay after class to correct him. I felt superior to him and consequently felt I had nothing to prove. I wrote the assigned research paper, but decided to not turn it in. I failed the final quarter of English.
I'm sure I had a math class. I have blocked out so much of 7th grade from my memory that I don't have a single distinct memory of a teacher, classroom, or classmate. Nor can I conjure a memory of the lunchroom. I do recall walking through the halls, completely alone, with my nose in a book.
Choir was okay. By 7th grade, I was already a pretty good accompanist, and I do remember being one of my choir director's favorites. I think I even got to sing a solo on one song. But I don't remember a single student from the class.
I'm betting I took science and history, too. I think I maybe remember the history teacher. He used to read to us from the Reader's Digest, because we had class right after lunch, and he thought people should have a story after lunch. He would read us the "Real Life Heroes" stories, and that is when I got hooked on the Reader's Digest, still my favorite magazine.
I vaguely remember hanging out with some guy. Maybe his name was Gavin. I think he was the closest thing I had to a friend.
I went from being Student Body President at Challenger to being completely lost in a school where I had no one. It's a time in my life I don't talk about, mostly just because I don't remember it.
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