education

by Jessica White

The first day was fine: I enjoyed the new experience and all the possibilities. The second day I ran down the hall screaming and crying. That is how I began kindergarten…and college.

I attended public school for 13 years (kindergarten through 12th grade). Monday through Friday my alarm would blare at 6:00 a.m., I would head outside to do chores (we had a small farm when I was in my teens) and then get ready for school. My younger brother and I were usually out waiting for the big yellow bus by 7:15. It didn’t matter the weather — if it was a school day, we were outside. If it was bitter cold, then my parents would let us wait with them in the car at the end of our driveway.

My mom only worked three days a week and my dad was self-employed so we were never home alone. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case for most of my friends, whose parents left before they did in the morning and didn’t get home until just before dinnertime.

In elementary school, I stayed in the same room, leaving only for music, gym, lunch or recess. In kindergarten (I was five) there was playtime, coloring, learning numbers and shapes. In all grades we would eat lunch in the cafeteria; lunches were either brought from home or whatever was on the day’s menu. After lunch was recess: We would get to run around outside on the playground or in the gym, depending on the weather. Then it was back to the classroom for afternoon lessons; school was over and we were home at 3:15, just in time for afternoon chores.

Middle school and high school were the big leagues. That’s when I suddenly had to have a locker (and remember the combination to it), move from classroom to classroom (and sometimes to entirely different hallways and wings of the building), and remember which books and notebooks I needed. I remember being absolutely terrified, but within a week or so I was comfortable in the ebb and flow of bells and lessons.

I was able to join chorus and drama club, spend time building sets for the school musicals, and play intramural soccer. I learned French and Spanish: Studied Greek mythology, Earth Science, Government, and Chemistry. There was study hall (time when we could go to the library or do our homework) and new sports in gym class, like field hockey, gymnastics, and softball.

I did not enjoy the teasing, the cliques, or the other cruelties that kids seem to be able to inflict so well on each other, regardless of where their education occurs. But I honestly enjoyed most of my school years. I even loved homework (I frequently finished it in school, unless it was projects or reports): coming home and sitting at my desk, listening to my music, pulling out all of my textbooks and pencils and pens…yes, I’m a nerd.

College was more of the same. I lived at home and commuted to the state college 45 minutes away (back when gas was $1.35 a gallon); my backpack and my car were my locker (and there was more than one time that I forgot the “combination” to open it). Attending lectures and working part time in the campus library helped pay for my books, gas, and car insurance, but didn’t leave me much time to socialize. However, college did allow me to have one particularly wonderful experience: Travel! I had always wanted to travel to Ireland.

Through my college, I was able to participate in a Summer Abroad program, which gave me the opportunity to live in Cork City, Ireland for a month while attending the University College Cork. I also earned a certification in Irish Literature and History, in addition to my B.S. in English.

The flip side to my story is that my little sister was homeschooled. My parents saw the direction that public schools were going and decided to do something different.

I don’t regret having been educated in public schools: It presented me with a lot of opportunities that I would not have had otherwise. It helped me to realize that I can think on my feet; that I am capable of not only functioning, but excelling outside of my comfort zones; that I can indeed, “Do all things through Him who strengthens me” {Philippians 4:13}.

It taught me that education (in all its forms), must first come from our parents making the wisest possible decisions for us. That we must constantly seek God: His wisdom and His ways in all things {James 1:5}. It taught me to think for myself, even when what I’m thinking isn’t the most popular thought. It taught me to be discerning, to know that just because people are in positions of authority over me, that does not mean that they are right; I must seek truth, His truth, for myself.

And now, I’m faced with the question of how I’m going to educate my own children. My husband and I both attended the same public school, the very school where our own children would attend. The thing is: It’s changed, a lot. And so for the next few years, we pray and hope we make a wise decision for our children.

Jessica pours most of the minutes of her day into mothering her 3 year old and 10 month old triplets, while eeking out a few minutes here and there for her husband. She writes about God’s lessons for her, her life discoveries and finding beauty in her everyday; embracing her Life in the White House.