My Story: How the High School subjects chose me/us

I am starting to write my own story here.

First, because my primary source of inspiration-my conversations (aka tirades, rants, clashes, slugfests) are so few and far between with the girls moving to boarding school.

Second (or maybe this is the primary reason) because as formal studies are taking over their life in a stronger grip (my last post);, I feel as if I am re-living that trauma again.

I wrote this part of the story first on a post for mycity4kids.

Reposting here..

At fifteen, Elena had to decide on her ‘subject-combination’.

 It took me back to the time when I had to make my choice. I had been  for waiting for months for the time where we get to choose which subjects to study.

I loved History and Literature and Geography. The combination wasn’t ‘available’ in our school so I had to pick the nearest available package. I think it was History, English and Home Science.

My parents were aghast. Their well-wishers (extended family, neighbors, friends, friends of friends, families and all) felt their pain and came together to support them.

‘She was such a good student! How did this happen?’

‘It is the age. You should check why she has lost interest in studies. Is she involved with…’

‘You can’t let her take such a decision; she is going to blame you for not guiding her when she was young.’

Their logic: If you score decent marks, you study science. And become a doctor or an engineer.

I vetoed the Doctor option outright-I could already imagine being surrounded by pain, illness and death. I would suffer more than the patients around me. That, they could understand.

And engineering wasn’t an option because I hated Math. That led to guffaws (nowadays you would called it LOL-ROFL) because I had scored 96/100.

They coaxed, cajoled, threatened and then compromised.

According to the logic(?) followed by our education system, a science student has the option of changing to non-science subjects but not vice-versa. If I studied science for just two years it would give me the option of selecting subjects of my choice two years later too.

Now, knowing how parents and well-wishers think, I guess they assumed/hoped I would realize the wisdom of studying engineering over history by then.

And so I ended up selecting ‘Physics, Chemistry, Mathematics’ over ‘History, Geography, Literature, Biology and others.’

A generation later, my daughter has picked the same core subjects.

I don't know if the decision will work for her or not. 

I wonder what she will be thinking a few decades down the line. Will she blame me for not ‘guiding’ her? Will she blame herself for not making the correct choice? Will she be thanking us/herself for making a great decision?

Or will she be just looking back and laughing about it, like me.

It's not funny that decades later our children are facing the same limitations.

Do we really need to make children choose between the categories of science/humanities/commerce at the age of fourteen or fifteen? And eliminate all other options?

Are these 'subjects' really so different from each other?

Why can't the student who loves Biology and History study both?

Da Vinci had interests in painting, sculpting, architecture, science, music, mathematics, engineering, literature, anatomy, geology, astronomy, botany, writing, history, and cartography. He painted the Mona Lisa and designed a prototype for the Helicopter in the 15th century.

Why are we denying our children that chance in the 21st century?

When the going gets tough..

Some get tougher,

Some give up,

Some hate it

And some are grateful…


Like me
Because it made me rethink my priorities


And pushed me into taking a decision which I would have kept pushing away for tomorrow

Yeah. It’s not easy admitting that I am not supermom.
That I need to drop a ball or two, to be able to keep dribbling, bouncing, juggling the others
I am taking a break from work.

And instead of feeling euphoric, I am scared.
Will I be able to do something useful?
What if it doesn’t work out?

Will I be able to get back to what I was doing?
What if…

Well things might not work out
But, as the cliche says, I’ll be glad to have tried my best

And maybe, they do work out;
And I’ll be grateful for these days..

...The blog was one of the first balls to get dropped, will it bounce back?

An old conversation

Bits of a conversation long ago, which lingers on, and feels so real now:

I was taking a couple of years off employment, waiting for my babies (four and one year olds) to grow a little more, before I could resume my career…

I could not understand why a woman who had worked all along, juggling home, bringing up two kids, building  a great career, would need to quit because she could not manage anymore..

Her sons were fifteen and twelve, independent, self-sufficient, and yet…

“My children need me emotionally NOW” she explained.

“They have out-grown nannies and day-cares. I cannot control their phone-calls, internet time, TV habits through my phone calls any more. I need time to be there now or their whole education and career is at stake.”

Oh, but aren’t kids supposed to be responsible enough to look out for themselves by that age? I had wondered all those years ago. 

I grew up fine with an office-going mother. So many children do.

And being with them all the time is no guarantee that they will not stray.

But now that my children are reaching there, I can empathize with her so well.

Compromises

I hate compromises.

I hate not doing a great job at work. I hate missing out on important discussions and not making my contribution. I hate not growing fast enough in my career. I hate not being able to accept a better deal because it will make me lose my time at home. I hate saying no to plum assignments because I have to leave office at a fixed time. I hate not being able to do much more.

I also hate delegating anything to with my children. I hate not being at home when they come back after a long day at school. I hate saying “I’m busy” to them when they want to come and talk nonsense. I hate it when they can’t attend music class because I don’t have the time to drop them.

So I compromise.

• I work from home to the extent I can, and say goodbye to working up the corporate ladder.
• I ensure they can attend their Badminton and Swimming but let them miss the odd party
• I don’t hang around in the park with them, but make time to teach them to cycle
• I work late to finish assignments, but leave early when they have exams
• I stay awake and finish my work to ensure that my daughter makes it to her choir practice everyday
• I don’t go to the movies with them, but I make wings and halos for the Christmas play
  
  On the final day of the term, when I see both my girls on stage, their eyes shining with pride and confidence, one receiving a prize, the other a part of the school choir, I look back and think, maybe ..............the compromises are worth it. Aren't they?