Believe it or not, I was not born in a cubicle. There was life before the office and I am sure there will be life after the office. Inspired by Travis over at I Like To Fish I have decided to hop on his ever expanding bandwagon and sometimes replace my usual Manic Monday post with something called a Memoir Monday. But it will not just be any story about my past. True to form, all of these posts will be about a job I have held in the past, be it paid or volunteer.
My parents were (and still are) pretty cool people. Which is why at the age of 10 when I said I wanted to volunteer at the historical village (think Williamsburg) a few towns over, they said "okay". So we convinced my grandmother to make me an outfit only an Ingalls would be jealous of and I went to work. It was pretty sweet. I got to churn butter, stitch quilts, and become quite proficient with a hoop and stick. I enjoyed it so much I stayed on for nearly 7 years. (Plus it looked pretty sweet on a college application.) And during that time, aside from learning a lot about the settling of Illinois, I also learned that there are no weirder children in the world than those that are home schooled.
I would say about 40% of the kids and teens who volunteered there were home schooled. And kudos to their parents for getting them out of the "classroom" and into a semi social environment. But perhaps a fake village where all people do is pretend to be from another time isn't the best way to introduce them to reality....
As you may have picked up from reading this blog, I can be a little, um, sarcastic. I can also be somewhat of a bully. It's not like I set out to be mean, but like a shark that smells blood in the water I attack when I smell weakness in another human.
So imagine the torture I inflicted upon kids who, in the late 90's, has never heard of Nirvana, South Park, or Loveline. Kids who talked about how much fun their parents made algebra. Kids who spent their weekends volunteering with the elderly and their best friend was their Golden Retriever, Mollie.
Sure, the kids were nice, but they lived in a little bubble where the only people they knew were other home schooled kids.
It was during my tenure at the village that I learned what the term "socially retarded" meant.
Whenever we had visitors in the house we had to stay in character and talk about like in the 1830's (I worked in the log house). As soon as the people would leave, us volunteers would close the door and chat like any other group of teens. Except for the home schooled kids. Even when there was no one else in the house, they stayed in character. (I know, how very method of them.)
I would start talking about the movie I saw the night before or how I was at a school dance. The home schooled kid would act astonished and ask in a British accent (because homesteaders in northern Illinois sounded like the Beatles?) what a movie was. Or how they enjoyed a good evening around the fire, darning socks while Pa read to them from the Bible.
The best part was sometimes, we weren't sure if that's actually what the had done the night before or if they were just reciting something from "Little House in the Big Woods".
So parents, I don't care how bad you think your local schools are, send your kids. You can help them with their school work but you are useless when it comes to helping them form social skills. I mean, what's the point of being a genius straight A student who graduates from Harvard in 2 years if you can't use it to get laid?
~ The Office Scribe
I know this title alone is going to bring the fury should the parents who decided to home school their children ever stumble across this page. But guess what, I don't care. Would you preform a complicated medical procedure on child? Chances are no, you wouldn't. And why? Because chances are you are not a licensed medical professional. So I ask: Why do you think you have the skills to teach your kid anything past coloring within the lines and nap time?
Sunburns, hang ups, and paper mouths
2 months ago