CT MUSING: The time I almost ran away to Europe

I was very surprised to find out that my three-year-old god-daughter will be starting her first day at school shortly. Sure, it's only three hours every morning but she and her parents still had to go through a grueling process of getting interviewed by a number of schools, waiting for an acceptance letter and then purchasing, what seems like to me, a truck load of uniforms and accessories. These include very specific black leather shoes, a school approved hat that's way too big for her head and a school bag that is literary the same size as her.

It took me back, briefly and terribly, to the painstaking rules I had to adhere to as a student. In hindsight, most people understand the importance of those rules. Make sure your socks are always rolled up, tuck your shirt in, no running in the halls, no talking, no eating in class, no weird hair cuts . . . rules were there to be followed, to maintain balance and order within the realm of all things high school. How else were we supposed to learn, right? Wrong.

I loathed school for these pedantic and ridiculous rules that, to me, took the attention away from the reason we were all there - to learn. I wasn't what you'd call a rebel at school. Well, if you think reading Alex Haley and Charles Dickens when I was supposed to be listening to the teacher explain algebra equations as acting rebellious, then call me James Dean.
I found it absolutely below my dignity to do anything I was told if it sounded nonsensical to me. For example, one rule that particularly bothered me was asking permission from a teacher to use the rest room or get a drink of water. The fact that they even had the right to say no, seemed medieval. By the end of my high school deployment, I had gathered a hefty collection of detentions for walking out of the classroom whenever I felt I needed to. I have no regret when it comes to that whatsoever.

What made it worse, is that most teachers, when they sense a "rebellious spirit" or any hint that someone is thinking outside of the prescribed syllabus, make it their mission to absolutely obliterate any hopes of you developing a sense of self.

I was so fed up with high school just before my final year started. I was over the pedantic rules and the classes that seemed to go against everything I wanted to study and learn. I also found that I was increasingly irritated by the students who thrived for the attention of getting full marks on everything and were talented in talentless activities like following instructions that meant that they had to wait for two hours before they were allowed to use a restroom.

Over the summer I found a program through a travel agency where one was sent for a full year to Europe to work as an intern in different cities. I applied, faked my parents' signature (I knew they'd never let me go) and found out very quickly that I had received a place.

I thought very hard about what I wanted to do. Like I mentioned, I couldn't stand school even if it was for just another year. I could possibly convince my parents, I thought. I knew I would enjoy the experience and I knew it was what I wanted to do. But despite my "rebellious" nature something in my gut told me I needed to stay. I was annoyed with myself. I'd put down my resistance to take the leap to go to Europe as fear.

As my final year at school progressed, I found out that it wasn't fear at all. I learnt things during that last year that I never could have learnt anywhere else. Sure the pointless rules, irritating students and nit-picking teachers were all still there, but high school for me was about learning how to be patient, to wait for the opportune moment where I was ready to catapult into university. High school might not be vital in the formula of success in a traditional or conventional sense, but it is a phase that you are unlikely to experience or learn from at any other time in your life. 

I just want to be clear to any students who might be reading this . . . high school wasn't all bad. I did go to a lot of parties and met lots of pretty girls too.

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