Prep School Bad Ass?

Now, I know what ya’ll are thinking…here she goes, she’s going to go off on how prep school kids are entitled, spoiled trust fund babies that grew up to be assholes.

Well, they can be…but for the most part, us prep school kids are alright. Yeah, that’s right. I’m a prep school kid…surprised?

Sometimes, regular old kids go to boarding schools because their regular old parents worked their regular old fanny’s off to send their kids to a school that offered a superior education than the one that could be found in their tiny rural town. I happen to be one of those kids. Now, the hubs and I have vastly different views about my time off at school (please see previous blog about the closeness of one’s hubs to his parents), but for me, it was the right choice. In fact, it was one of the best things my parent’s ever did for me, if not the best. Now, I’m not saying that it was all sunshine and flowers. I remember one time, my freshman year, when my brothers came to visit, and my parents had what I can assume is only out of guilt, told them to take me to the mall and take me shopping, and I had a breakdown in the dressing room of some store and my brothers got on a pay phone (remember those?) , called my dad and told him they were bringing me home. My father, in turn, in what I can only assume was a well delivered threat of loss of life, forbade the twins to bring me home and instead they took me and my friend to Benihana.    

That was freshman year, I was thirteen, it was tough. But, as with most things, I got over it. I went on to not only survive the experience, but I loved it and I, all these years later am just as proud, if not prouder to have graduated from The Baylor School as I am both the universities I hold degrees from. It wasn’t just book learnin’ that went on at that school, it was life learnin’ and a whopping dose.

Now, if you are anything like the hubs, you akin prep-school to some sort of juvenile prison sentence and that only bad kids and fuck ups went to boarding school. It wasn’t military school for God’s sake, nor was it Dead Poet’s Society. We didn’t all do blow in the bathroom at prom and have group sex and ride around in limos either. Maybe some kids were doing that, but I was mostly causing trouble with a much more charming crowd. I drove a Saturn, for fuck’s sake! I was just a regular old country girl who punched her ticket straight out of small town USA and marveled at the “big city” living in Tennessee. This year (gasp!!) comes my twenty year high school reunion, and as one tends to do, I’ve been reflecting on the old days. And over the years I’ve come to realize some pretty cool stuff came as a result of my prep-school education.

1. I can talk to anyone. Under any circumstances. Try leaving your home and your family and your friends and moving not only to a city in which you know no one, but a state in which you know no one. Also, try doing this at thirteen years of age.  As a result of this, I’m quite the talker, and this has served me well.
2. I know some cool ass people. By getting out of small town USA, I was able to meet folks from everywhere, and I mean everywhere. I will NEVER forget the Latvian kid who carried around his “Little Mermaid” figurine with him everywhere he went because it reminded him of his sister when he was so far away from home and had won a national lottery to be allowed to even come to America for a year (and we bitch about the cost of a latte). Ask the hubs, I still refer to him by name to this day. When things look a little grim, I think of that little Latvian ginger and how hard it must have been to not only be so far away from his family, but to be in SUCH a foreign land. I wonder if he’s on Facebook…is there Facebook in Latvia? And he’s just the tip of the iceberg. There were kids from all over, and they were just as fascinated with my “dad sometimes gets paid in peaches” stories as I was their “religious police boarded our school bus when we were headed on a school trip to see the Pyramids” stories. These days I can see a lot of these folks on social media who have grown up to be some cool ass adults…Film makers, top investors, writers, singers, doctors, lawyers, models, cook-book authors, business owners, and fashionistas. It’s a nice club to belong to, even if you are kinda sitting in the back doing that awkward wave where you’re not sure if they see you or not, but it’s just nice to be invited to the cool kids’ party.
3. I am not what one would call, “emotionally needy”. When I was off at school, and emtion issues arose (as they are want to do in a teenage girl) I dealt with it. I didn’t have the luxury of coming home to some milk and cookies while I told my mom all my problems and then helped me with my math homework. I had a pay phone at the end of a hall, in a booth, and a calling card that my father wasn’t fond of me using liberally (calling cards…remember those?). Not to mention that back in the day, it cost like, 15 dollars a minute to call long distance so I got in line for the obligatory once a week “I’m alive and fine” call to my folks. Now, I know ya’ll are thinking this is a bit harsh. But, that’s only because you were one of the kids with the milk and cookies. To me, it was completely normal to deal with my problems myself. Being independent at such a young age, taught me a lot of lessons that would come in handy when later, at college ya’ll couldn’t hang ‘cause mom wasn’t there to do your laundry and help you write your paper. By the time I got to college, wearing flip-flops in the shower was old hat. Living in a dorm wasn’t a big deal to me, I’d been doing it for four years already. Now, I would say, as a word of warning, perhaps I lie on the outside extreme of non-emotional neediness (the hubs is making robot noises in the background as I type), but the point is…I learned how to deal with my own emotions and problems early which have led me to be a confident, low maintenance adult female (an extremely rare breed, whose natural territory lies mostly below the Mason Dixon).
4. I’m an excellent driver. I bet you didn’t even consider that as a benefit of boarding school. My parents purchased me a lovely car made completely out of plastic and set me off on a 400 mile journey through Atlanta, I might add, at the ripe old age of 15. Not to worry, dad gave me a bag phone that plugged into the cigarette lighter and costs more than my mortgage does now to use. I was allowed to use that phone under two circumstances. The first: I made it through Atlanta alive am now on the other side headed up 75. And two: I have arrived on campus. I dared not use that bag phone under ANY other circumstances-though I must say, I thought (at the time) that I was hot shit for having a phone in my car! As a result of being unleashed in the most brutal driving scenario this side of the Mississippi, I can drive. You are safe with me at the wheel. I don’t speed, I am a defensive driver, and I am aware that everyone else on the roads are complete idiots that aren’t paying a lick of attention to what they are doing, much less what you are doing.
5. I’ll eat pretty much anything. Having a home cooked meal became a luxury. Now, I’m not saying that I never ate at my friends’ houses for dinner. Trust me, between Signal and Elder and Lookout, I had my home cooked options, but even this opened my eyes, nay, pallet and may explain why I’m such a foodie today. And why I love to cook so much. I always saw it as an expression of love. Whether it was my mom cooking my favorite meals when I came home to visit, or eating at my “day student” friends’ houses.
6. Speaking of going home to visit…did I mention that when you go off to school and then come home for a holiday or a visit, you are pretty much treated like a rock star by your friends and family? They are just so glad to see you that it’s like a week-long party! Also (and this was pre-9/11) before I could drive, my parents would usually fly me home! FLY ME HOME! I have never felt more rock star than flying alone as a kid. The freedom! If any of ya’ll flew alone as kids, you too remember how bitchin’ Camaro it was! Then, you would arrive at the gate, and back in the day they would let people right up to the gate (remember that?), and there would be hugs and kisses and excitement! Best feeling ever! Then, we’d go home and I’d eat my favorite foods, and sleep in my own bed! The next day, we would go get chili cheese fries from my favorite greasy spoon, catch up with all my friends that still remembered me, and I got to be the cool, mysterious kid at the parties where the kids didn’t remember me. And, the best part…just when we were all sick of the Forced Farish Family Fun (yeah, we have a name for it), it would be time to hop back on that plane and head off just before all that cool wore off. Rock Star.  
7. People assumed that I was my older brothers’ older sister, so I got into bars WAY before I should have. It probably also didn’t hurt that I had rather large boobs in high school, but whenever I would try and get into a bar with the big bros, they would just go, “oh, yeah, this is my sister, she’s home visiting from Baylor”…it’s not my fault people just assumed they were talking about Baylor University in Texas and not The Baylor School in Chattanooga. Also, mom and dad, if you do the math, my brothers were  going to bars when they were underage too. We all survived, and no one got arrested, so don’t panic. This also led to another awesome thing about going to boarding school.
8. I can hold my drink. While you were sipping on your Bartles and James strawberry wine cooler that you could only have one and a half of before your ralphed your guts out, I was drinking bourbon and diet coke and owning that shit. This also meant that when the fellas where trying to get us ladies drunk and take advantage of our lowered inhibitions, I wasn’t falling for that shit. See, mother, you should be proud!
9. I’m smart. Now, to be fair, I was born this way. My genetics play the biggest role in my gargantuan IQ, but boarding school helped me focus. It was hard, and you couldn’t get away with sliding by. Everyone did well, or they were sent home. Excellent was how everyone was expected to perform and as a result of that, I am a focused, driven, high performer at work and in my personal life. I am a nerd because of prep school, and I’m damned proud of that!
10. I am not scared. I am not meek. I am not easily intimidated. I can handle myself. I am kinda bad ass because of prep-school, to be honest. I adapt easily to various situations and find myself at home almost anywhere (I’m hoping this will come in handy during the zombie apocalypse).

So, don’t judge me for my prep school past. The next time someone tells you they went to boarding school, please, don’t let the first thing out of your mouth be, “You must have been bad.” If you can, consider sending your kid(s) to prep school, a better education in academics and life, they will not get. Prep school wasn’t a punishment, it was a privilege. One that my dad and mom sacrificed a lot for. Don’t think of me as a snotty rich girl either, because, Lord, if you have met me, you know that couldn’t be further from the truth. And just because I’m covered in tattoos and say “fuck” a lot doesn’t mean that all that money the folks spent on my education wasn’t worth every dime.