As my older daughter got ready for her sophomore year of college, her bedroom looked like Bed Bath & Beyond had exploded in it. Lamps, bedding, a collapsible laundry basket, and decorative starfish for her “ocean-themed” dorm room covered pretty much every inch of available floor space.
Now she’s back at school. And year two I have a better idea what to expect. But the 20/20 vision of hindsight also gives me a clear view of another road we’ve already traveled: high school.
By some accounts, my firstborn did high school all “wrong”—which is to say, she did it in a way that went against most of the advice of her school counselors and her friends, family, people at church, advisors, and the thousands of articles on “how to make the most of high school.”
She did high school her own way, but it turned out to be the right way for her. It got her where she is now: at a college that’s one hundred percent perfect for her, where she has the kind of friends she’s been looking for her entire life, and where she’s going after a degree that reflects her gifts and passions.
What she’s doing now doesn’t appear to have been hindered by what she didn’t do in high school. And what she did do helps her in college now.
If you’ve got a high schooler who’s going their own way, take heart: it will probably turn out to be the right way for them, too. Here are the 5 ways my daughter paved her own path:
1. No BFF.
It wasn’t for lack of wanting and trying, and it wasn’t as though she had no friends. She had her band friends and her dance friends and her “we survived geometry together” friends. But that one, lifelong BFF whose baby shower she’ll throw one day never materialized. Neither did the big mixed-company group that hung out in someone’s basement every weekend and went to Steak ‘n Shake at 2 a.m. Fortunately, it makes the friendships she intentionally forged her first year in college that much sweeter.
2. She didn’t play school sports.
My firstborn’s middle school counselor stridently advised us that she would need an official school sport—anything from cross country to lacrosse—on her resume for college applications and scholarships. But four years of marching band (a “sport” in every sense of the word if ever there was one) and eight years of dance must have counted for something. She gained acceptance into her top-pick school, and thankfully, her father and I don’t have to foot the entire bill.
3. No traditional student leadership.
My favorite introvert wanted nothing to do with the Student Council or Homecoming committee, but she led in other ways. In band, she was a section leader. At dance, she was a student teacher. At our church, she was a summer camp workshop instructor. Leadership doesn’t have to have “class president” stamped on it.
4. Not much socializing.
Friday nights on the marching band field, two Homecoming dances, and one junior-year prom were more than enough for our girl. She spent time with friends one-on-one. And she wasn’t afraid to tell us that family pizza night at home was her favorite part of the week. And after a “relational adjustment” left her without a prom date senior year, she happily spent that day and night shopping and eating ice cream with her sister and me—a memory we all still cherish.
5. She didn’t go after the toughest academic load or the “elite” career path.
My daughter was one of her class’ valedictorians. She worked hard and studied well. But instead of applying to our area’s math and science center in preparation for a career in these fields, she spent half her junior and senior year at our local tech center in the early childhood education (ECE) program. She did this against the advice of pretty much everyone: school counselors who told her she was wasting her potential; teachers who told her the education system is a nightmare; and various relatives who told her she’d never make any money in ECE (thanks for the news flash.)
But she did it with our blessing. We’d seen our daughter in action with preschoolers, and we knew that those little children made her heart beat. And when one of her college professors told her she had the most passion of any of their ECE students, my daughter had the confirmation she needed that she wasn’t wasting her potential, but, rather, honoring it and using it.
My daughter’s room in our house is now clear, the Bed Bath & Beyond explosion transferred to her dorm room—ocean-themed accessories and all. She’s starting the second leg of her college journey with friends beside her. She has a future she’s excited about in front of her. And she’ll do it with all the mileage and lessons from high school. Done the way she wanted to do it.