Tonight I attended my daughter's dance recital. The music's loud, the seating's inadequate, but the performances were heart-felt and sincere. If you can get that out of a bunch of teens and pre-teens, you're doing something good.
But as I watched, I kept thinking about high school graduation. I know it's strange, but I've been so inundated on social media lately with post after post, picture after picture of proud parents and relieved children. So, what's it like to be a parent who doesn't have a child attend graduation ceremonies from high school?
It's strange.
I have no children who would be graduating this year anyway, but three years ago, it was a different story. My oldest wasn't "clothed in the black robes of a false priesthood" as Hugh Nibley might say. He did not walk down an aisle with a mortarboard on his head, a tassel bouncing to and fro as he moved forward. He was not handed a diploma and given a handshake. He did none of it, and there's a good chance none of my remaining three children will either.
I'll have no pictures to post, no selfies with my kids, but that's a decision we made decades ago. None of my children have gone to a prom, or a homecoming football game, or taken a test with a couple of dozen other students. We've kept them home and taught them the best we could. And when it's all said and done, we will have save the taxpayers of the state of Utah over $350,000.00, at the same time paying the same taxes as everyone else, because as the propaganda arm tells us over and over, we must sacrifice for the betterment of society.
I am happy when I see my friends post their pictures. I remember the day I graduated from high school with fond memories. People will judge us because we have, in their opinion, denied our children those memories, those experiences. And I suppose we have. But for us, some things were more important and we're comfortable in our decisions.
No one knows what the future of my children will be. The same can be said for the millions of high school students that wore the robes, flipped the tassel, and posted the pictures. Doing something different--it's what makes this world interesting.
It's strange.
I have no children who would be graduating this year anyway, but three years ago, it was a different story. My oldest wasn't "clothed in the black robes of a false priesthood" as Hugh Nibley might say. He did not walk down an aisle with a mortarboard on his head, a tassel bouncing to and fro as he moved forward. He was not handed a diploma and given a handshake. He did none of it, and there's a good chance none of my remaining three children will either.
I'll have no pictures to post, no selfies with my kids, but that's a decision we made decades ago. None of my children have gone to a prom, or a homecoming football game, or taken a test with a couple of dozen other students. We've kept them home and taught them the best we could. And when it's all said and done, we will have save the taxpayers of the state of Utah over $350,000.00, at the same time paying the same taxes as everyone else, because as the propaganda arm tells us over and over, we must sacrifice for the betterment of society.
I am happy when I see my friends post their pictures. I remember the day I graduated from high school with fond memories. People will judge us because we have, in their opinion, denied our children those memories, those experiences. And I suppose we have. But for us, some things were more important and we're comfortable in our decisions.
No one knows what the future of my children will be. The same can be said for the millions of high school students that wore the robes, flipped the tassel, and posted the pictures. Doing something different--it's what makes this world interesting.
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