Might-have-beens
May. 14th, 2004 01:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tarigwaemirAd Mundo Exteriore,
So a few of you may know or remember that I spent the first nine and a half years of my life in the suburbs of Houston, Texas, as one of the poorest families in a...well, not wealthy, but comfortably upper-middle-class school district. The elementary school I attended had a very good G&T program, which I qualified for starting in kindergarten. I think I stopped talking about it after seventh grade or so, but I have very fond memories of Texas, especially compared to the elementary school I had to attend in fifth grade, after I moved to New York. I know people tend to stereotype Texans as being conservative hillbillies, but I actually remember that the erstwhile Dubya lost our classroom "elections" (this was back when he was running for governor). I suppose it's always different, living in a city environment, where there's a sizable Hispanic minority.
In any case, I didn't know much about politics or Southern dialects, but I did go to an excellent school and, more specifically, had an excellent teacher. You know those cheesy Disney commercials that talk about "teachers who changed my life"? Well, if I had to pick a teacher who influenced me more than anyone else in my past thirteen years of education, it would be her. I had her during third and fourth grades, with a class half full of QUEST students. We learned how to do research, how to write bibliographies, how to type, how to do primitive algebra, how to conduct pH tests at the local bayou...Our curriculum mostly consisted of independent projects--I wrote my own "books", made backdrop presentations, created slide shows on the computer, built bridges out of straws, etc. It was an immensely creative and challenging environment, and I never realized how rare it was to have that kind of experience until I came to New York and realized that not all schools put so much energy and money into their G&T students. And certainly not all teachers put in so much dedication and effort into encouraging their students to go to their limits.
Anyway, yesterday, I looked up my old school again and found that she was still teaching there, now as the technology and G&T coordinator. I emailed her, and I received the reply this morning. It's overwhelming--I was homesick for a year after I moved to New York (never got over it until I got into Hunter and realized there was something worthwhile about coming to the Caput Mundi after all)--and I'm almost oppressed with the sensation of what-might-have-been. She's given me news about all my old classmates, and I remember not only their names and faces but also all the conversations and funny moments and...I think the reason why I tend to almost fanatically remember people is because I got into the habit of clinging onto their memories in my utter homesickness during fifth grade. It's sort of saddening to realize that they'll be nearly unrecognizable now (I mean, I've changed so much during high school myself). The boy who had the second highest grade point average in the class (after me) is now studying engineering at UT Austin. Two of my former classmates are studying nursing--one of them, a kidney transplant patient, brought slides of blood to class during a microscope lab, and another of them sat at the same table as me and was generally considered to be the prettiest girl in the class. Another classmate, who used to read Hardy Boys, is now at Notre Dame. The one other Asian student moved to Hawaii and is apparently doing web design. I feel like I'm grafting my familiar memories onto these strangers and finding something missing...I can't really imagine them at all; this sense of disconnection is dizzying.
Oh, I'm not sad or anything. On the contrary, I'm delighted to hear from my old teacher, and actually knowing what my classmates are doing now is much better than not knowing anything at all. I think the best way to describe it is that I've been constantly haunted by the blurry image of who I could have been if I stayed in Texas, and I now can give a clearer shape to that image. But I can't lay it to rest, just yet. I'm too strongly attached to these memories--ironic, really, because I've tried to forget fifth and sixth grades as much as possible. And well, Hunter's the only school where I attended all the requisite years. (Which leads me to think that the real purpose of the graduation ceremony is to give the sense of resolution that I don't quite have. It's a sign that you've finished attending this school, that you have permission to move on. There's a part of me that feels like it's left some incomplete buisness back there.)
I think I've lost track of what I meant to say. Anyway, I'm so glad that I've gotten in touch with her again, and despite the disconnection, I also have an enormous sense of relief too, as if something that had been tense inside me all along has relaxed, just a little.
...Tari
Post-script: My new Fruits Basket wallpaper up at Have Faith. It's red, sparkly and insane, but hopefully worth looking at?
So a few of you may know or remember that I spent the first nine and a half years of my life in the suburbs of Houston, Texas, as one of the poorest families in a...well, not wealthy, but comfortably upper-middle-class school district. The elementary school I attended had a very good G&T program, which I qualified for starting in kindergarten. I think I stopped talking about it after seventh grade or so, but I have very fond memories of Texas, especially compared to the elementary school I had to attend in fifth grade, after I moved to New York. I know people tend to stereotype Texans as being conservative hillbillies, but I actually remember that the erstwhile Dubya lost our classroom "elections" (this was back when he was running for governor). I suppose it's always different, living in a city environment, where there's a sizable Hispanic minority.
In any case, I didn't know much about politics or Southern dialects, but I did go to an excellent school and, more specifically, had an excellent teacher. You know those cheesy Disney commercials that talk about "teachers who changed my life"? Well, if I had to pick a teacher who influenced me more than anyone else in my past thirteen years of education, it would be her. I had her during third and fourth grades, with a class half full of QUEST students. We learned how to do research, how to write bibliographies, how to type, how to do primitive algebra, how to conduct pH tests at the local bayou...Our curriculum mostly consisted of independent projects--I wrote my own "books", made backdrop presentations, created slide shows on the computer, built bridges out of straws, etc. It was an immensely creative and challenging environment, and I never realized how rare it was to have that kind of experience until I came to New York and realized that not all schools put so much energy and money into their G&T students. And certainly not all teachers put in so much dedication and effort into encouraging their students to go to their limits.
Anyway, yesterday, I looked up my old school again and found that she was still teaching there, now as the technology and G&T coordinator. I emailed her, and I received the reply this morning. It's overwhelming--I was homesick for a year after I moved to New York (never got over it until I got into Hunter and realized there was something worthwhile about coming to the Caput Mundi after all)--and I'm almost oppressed with the sensation of what-might-have-been. She's given me news about all my old classmates, and I remember not only their names and faces but also all the conversations and funny moments and...I think the reason why I tend to almost fanatically remember people is because I got into the habit of clinging onto their memories in my utter homesickness during fifth grade. It's sort of saddening to realize that they'll be nearly unrecognizable now (I mean, I've changed so much during high school myself). The boy who had the second highest grade point average in the class (after me) is now studying engineering at UT Austin. Two of my former classmates are studying nursing--one of them, a kidney transplant patient, brought slides of blood to class during a microscope lab, and another of them sat at the same table as me and was generally considered to be the prettiest girl in the class. Another classmate, who used to read Hardy Boys, is now at Notre Dame. The one other Asian student moved to Hawaii and is apparently doing web design. I feel like I'm grafting my familiar memories onto these strangers and finding something missing...I can't really imagine them at all; this sense of disconnection is dizzying.
Oh, I'm not sad or anything. On the contrary, I'm delighted to hear from my old teacher, and actually knowing what my classmates are doing now is much better than not knowing anything at all. I think the best way to describe it is that I've been constantly haunted by the blurry image of who I could have been if I stayed in Texas, and I now can give a clearer shape to that image. But I can't lay it to rest, just yet. I'm too strongly attached to these memories--ironic, really, because I've tried to forget fifth and sixth grades as much as possible. And well, Hunter's the only school where I attended all the requisite years. (Which leads me to think that the real purpose of the graduation ceremony is to give the sense of resolution that I don't quite have. It's a sign that you've finished attending this school, that you have permission to move on. There's a part of me that feels like it's left some incomplete buisness back there.)
I think I've lost track of what I meant to say. Anyway, I'm so glad that I've gotten in touch with her again, and despite the disconnection, I also have an enormous sense of relief too, as if something that had been tense inside me all along has relaxed, just a little.
...Tari
Post-script: My new Fruits Basket wallpaper up at Have Faith. It's red, sparkly and insane, but hopefully worth looking at?
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-14 01:56 pm (UTC)Hunter's just coo liek dat...
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-15 09:46 pm (UTC)The rest of the class were like mindless sheep following this one girl and her cronies, all because she was pretty and popular. Had we been looking at talent rather than popularity, I could name a lot of other girls who could have been much better leaders than her, including my own best friend, who came away from high school with bitter memories of being put down whenever she had any ideas to contribute to a class project.
And the worst part was that the teachers didn't even bother to look for the "hidden" (through no fault of our own, I'd say) talents of the more nondescript students in class. Mostly because they were too blinded by the razzle and dazzle of these "popular" girls to notice that most of the time, they weren't even doing any actual work done--their modus operandi was to farm out the more tedious and non-glamourous tasks to people like myself (since we were considered too "docile" to complain) and taking full credit for the finished work, despite it being a group effort.
I reiterate. You were lucky.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-15 10:07 pm (UTC)Starting from seventh grade, however, I escaped to a selective public high school. We had our cliques too, but luckily it wasn't separated by "honors tracks". I escaped quickly enough, but the two previous years taught me exactly how fortunate I was in my earlier and later education.
The problem with NYC public education is that there are specialized or magnet schools to which talented students are quickly siphoned off and then there are normal "zoned" schools, which are for everyone else. Because I moved to New York in fifth grade, I got a taste of what the "zoned" schools were like, and even then, I had the advantage of getting the "best" teachers within that school. I can only imagine what the rest of the student population would have to go through. Granted, nearly all the students I encountered were too apathetic to care what a terrible education they were receiving.
Of course, the problem with our high school is that our teachers were all set on "uncovering" our talents, but that in turn encouraged us all to turn into overachievers, competing purely for the sake of getting into the best colleges. There was a bit of a reactionary movement, where we all insisted on love of learn
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-16 10:08 am (UTC)UP is a state university, but Ateneo and La Salle would be the Manilenos equivalent of an Ivy League University. And most of the time an honors student is practically *assured* of a spot in these universities. UP is a bit more selective than the "Ivy League" ones, in fact, since it's a government institution and should therefore be allocating its funds to people who are truly qualified.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-16 05:40 pm (UTC)I think the major difference in education between the United States and other countries is that the government-funded institutions are all worse than the private ones. I know that in Korea, at least, the top universities are all government-run. Just goes to show how much Americans love pandering to the mediocre (our oh-so-wonderful president being a prime example -_-;;).
...Tari
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-17 09:10 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-15 10:11 pm (UTC)...love of learning above competition for grades, but in the end, everyone wanted to get into the best colleges. Still, I'd like to think that I managed to retain my soul and not give into the mindless "Ivy dreams" (never mind that I'm at an Ivy institution anyway...>_>)
...Tari