Things I Actually Did Learn in High School

         Freshmen year I had Greek/Latin roots and read and watched Romeo and Juliet. Sophomore year was full of scrapbooking, learning to love my German (exchange student) sister and playing swing for the JV and varsity basketball team. My junior year I took horticulture and joined FFA to compete in seemingly bizarre competitions, I dislocated my knee, and traveled to Europe. Senior year I chose AP English instead math, considered quitting a team for the first time in my life, was accepted into all 3 of the universities I applied to and was asked out (over Facebook) and denied the guy I'd had a crush on for six years. All four years I sat in the hallways at lunchtime with friends, wore toe socks and Crocs and rocked spirit days!

      So what does this have to do with the now? High school started nine school years ago. Since then I've changed attitude, appearance, and thoughts while learning so much more. Most of my high school teachers are no longer at the high school I graduated from. My high school has actually changed into a jr/sr high with 7th and 8th graders roaming the halls (my primary school has closed down, but that is another topic). So, why is it that today (4 years and 7 months after I graduated) lessons I learned in high school are coming to mind?

      Today I had permagarden training. The goal of this project is to assist mothers to provide two meals per day for their children at zero cost and minimum time management. Mekelle, the regional capital of Tigray, gets 1200- 1500 millimeters of rain per year. London gets 700. However, Mekelle gets all of it in two months, so there are also droughts throughout the year, unlike continuous lush, green, gray London. Permagarden is about utilizing the water that does come for the remainder of the year. I could tell you all about the process, but what's needed to know for the relevance of this blog is that today I spent lots of time in compost and soil.

      As my instructor held a clump of soil and added water, I had a major flashback to junior year when I joined FFA, had an entire horticulture class to myself, and did really well in soils' competition. This instructor did what my high school teacher did in a hole out by the t-ball field: squeeze the soil to see if it would stick together in order to determine the structure of the soil. He ground it up just like my friends and I did at the Oregon Gardens to see if it had silt or sand in it. Like horticulture class, we made and learned about compost that the soil needs.

      You know when something happens and you think, "Wow! That's really cool for them, but what about me?" That feeling borders between jealousy and self doubt. Freshmen year it came because my best friend was obviously better than me at English. Sophomore year it revolved around basketball. Others were getting tons of playing time and I was last post. I only got to play varsity if others were hurt or we were ahead by 30. Senior year it was being the only starter not to be mentioned in any newspaper at state for any of the three games. I learned that there is always someone better than me. But that is okay.

      I read about Peace Corps volunteers doing remarkable projects all over the world, yet I struggle to get support. I am compared constantly to my site mates on every topic from weight to language skills. Friends get to go home on travel and I have a job that keeps me grounded at site for the school year. On conversations about pop culture I am completely lost. Despite of the differences, I have to remember to focus on the positive. In high school it was focusing on algebraic skills or the ability to play with teammates of all levels and filling the need for defense even if it didn't make the papers (no one brags about how many block outs you do in a game). Here it is taking joy in the small victories, continuing speaking in Tigrigna, remembering moms thanking me for playing with their kids, being confident in quoting any Disney movie and being thankful for my own uniqueness-es.

      After winning state in basketball and taking the two week break between sports, I started my final season of softball with one other senior, a junior, a handful of sophomores and a mob of freshmen. While my basketball coaches were remarkable (I still admire them today), this softball coach was slightly sub-par. I had battled through the season before with her, but had been under the impression there would be a new coach. Turns out no one else really wanted to coach softball. While she had many "interesting" tactics, one of which was always focusing three years down the road. For this reason she made two freshmen captains, although the other upperclassmen and I had been playing every season our whole lives. For this and other disrespectful situations, I considered quitting softball. It's the second time in my whole life my mom told me I could quit something (first being piano when I chose basketball over piano one summer). I may have quit if not so many of the freshmen were my friends and asked me to stay. I stayed for them.

      Since coming there have been 15 members of my cohort who have quit Peace Corps Ethiopia either on their own accord or for medical reasons. I have dealt with harassment that doesn't happen to me in the states (nothing really bad has happened, but obnoxious harassment is still obnoxious). I've disagreed with site mates. Frustrations are a weekly occurrence with the school year getting shorter with holidays, but the workload is the same as the first semester which didn't have breaks. But I'm not going to quit. I didn't give up when I dislocated my knee junior year. I came back to finish that season okay, and the next season even stronger. I learned to work through differences with a wonderful individual who later became my sister my sophomore year. I didn't give up on softball, but stayed to play the most ridiculous season ever (I shifted positions regularly and we never won) with some fun girls. Days might be rough, but I'm not going to cop out.

      One week before high school ended and two weeks before graduation, I was asked out over Facebook by one of my closest guy friends. We'd both been accepted to Oregon schools, but I was pretty set on going out of state, so, although I'd had that middle school/high school crush thing on him forever, I held off saying yes. That was the one and only time I was asked out.

      I live in a society now where women are required to date and marry young. Most of the time they don't have much say on the matter. They are constantly asked for an escort wherever they go. They are belittled by men, young and old, about their looks and dreams. Many claim to ignore the harassment and irritation they encounter, but the harsh words plant seeds of doubts and change their smiles. A majority of girls don't get to go to secondary school, fewer to preparatory and even fewer to college. They are often seen for their bodies and not their hearts.

      Saying no at the time was hard and something I contemplated trying to reverse for a little while after the time. Although my friend would have treated me differently than the cultural stereotypes I am in now, I am glad that I said no. I saw plenty of high school relationships develop to some of my dearest friends. Some continued on long after and others crumbled. From them and the infamous Romeo and Juliet I learned to keep things all in perspective, have open conversations and not to just jump into a relationship, if a broken heart was probably going to happen.  I taught myself to save my heart, to not give up on my dreams for a guy (even a really great guy), and learn to value being is single. Sure, dating is great and I hope that is in my future, but I love talking to girls about being strong and doing what you want: Dreaming dreams is hard when people doubt, but working hard towards them starts with the dream; Standing up to the men who harass and letting them know it's not right; That there is option of doing more than dropping out of school to be a mom; That their heart doesn't belong to their fathers to dictate who they love, but to themselves to give to whomever they choose.

      I remember the majority of my high school subjects and who taught them. Although I would now probably fail a Mr. Miller AP Writing test on a book I read 5 years ago, and I’d still get completely confused with sine, cosine, and tangent, I would do much better in food prep. I guess there really is more than just subjects and facts taught during high school that aren't accounted for in a g.p.a number on a transcript sent to colleges. Time has passed. Life is not the same as high school, but the lesson learned then can still be applied long after the diploma holder is presented and the hat is tossed.