But I went to college, mostly thanks to standardized testing, and I finally understood how to use my brain. Living inside my own mind had been like being stuck in a car for years with no idea how to drive. Then, in my sophomore year of college, I wasn’t sure how else to describe it, but suddenly, everything felt different. It became crystal clear to me what had been confusing: how to study and memorize, retain raw information, and most importantly, how to capture and put into words the complex thoughts that had previously floated around my mind like clouds.
I would never encourage anyone to have poor grades, let alone delinquency. I want my children to grow up in a traditional way. Obviously, we want them to graduate from high school with the highest possible grades and minimal damage to their self-esteem. Entering adulthood with a criminal record, severe psychological trauma, or addiction is not ideal.
But the story doesn’t have to end there.
By the time I graduated from high school, the high school kids I knew had already been arrested, gotten addicted to drugs, failed classes, or stayed out all night because they couldn’t bear to go home. It would have been shocking to me then to learn that many of them had grown up to lead normal, healthy lives. Not all of them got college degrees, but most of them eventually got back on their feet.
Even my friend who went to prison was freed long ago and is far more educated than I. My friend who suffered the most incomprehensible suffering and who has insisted since we were five that he is actually a boy is now a father in a faraway city we never thought of, with a glamorous job we never knew existed, living a discreet life as a man that we would never have thought possible.
You never know what’s going to happen next, or beyond that, or even beyond that, so if high school was a good experience for you, cherish those memories.
What about the rest of us?
As it turns out, you might be shocked to find out how little of that happened.
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