this post was submitted on 04 Dec 2025
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I was rebellious. It started when I was in the 4th grade, and I had a goofy teacher. It made me want to not be serious and not do my work.
I started slacking off. By the 6th grade, I decided to skip school one day. I got caught in a Best Buy-like store (I can’t remember the name) playing Nintendo on the store display.
By the 7th grade, I befriended a 9th grader who taught me how to skip school and not get caught. It was addictive. He also taught me how to break into people’s houses (mostly through doggie doors) and steal. We got busted by the cops for truancy once, and he ratted me out saying I was the ring leader.
I spent a lot of summers in summer school making up for all the failed classes (due to skipping class). It should also be noted that I was a latchkey kid (80s and 90s), and we had an answering machine that I would regularly wipe messages from the school before my parents got home.
When I was 15, my parents joined Amway and would go on regular weekend trips. So my brother would have his of-age friend buy us booze using the food money, and we would throw huge house parties that usually ended with the cops being called. I would get blackout drunk on those weekends.
I used to drive my car to drivers ed.
I dropped out of high school three times. I also attempted suicide 7 times. It’s a miracle Im alive.
My kids are nothing like me (so far), and I aim to keep it that way. I don’t lie to them, and I will gladly tell them about my childhood. They need to know that I understand that shit happens so they can come to me with any problems they have.
I don’t force or guilt them into doing things. I give them choices. I also give them consequences. They don’t always agree with me, but they at least do what needs to be done (they are both usually A/B students). My oldest got his first D in 7th grade Spanish. I’m glad he did. Now he knows what it feels like to not succeed, and hopefully won’t suffer as much anxiety when he starts struggling the next time; i.e. he knows that life will go on regardless of what grade he gets.
I am American. Born and bred in the south, no less. I’ve seen both blatant and subtle/accidental racism first hand from my family. I’ve also seen financial struggles and a foreclosure on my childhood home. But I’m still blessed compared to most. And I won’t hesitate to help anybody out when I can (I don’t care who you are). I can only hope my kids grow up to do the same.
~Take all that for what you will. It’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.~