Another Pagan Blog
Where do I go next?
While my education started in Homeschool, it didn't stay there. The three years following my break from Homeschool were the most tumultuous of my young life, filled not just with the awkwardness of learning how to be social and fit in, but also with budding pre-adolescence. The first awkward almost-boyfriend, life-lessons about what kind of people make good friends, and my first period.

It's rather long-winded and not much related to my spirituality, with the exception of showing how unprepared I was for the real world as a preteen, having been raised under the shelter of my parent's Christianity.

I spent the 1997-1998 school year at a private Christian school, fortunately the only year I had to spend in such an institution. It was a school so small that it was divided into literally three classrooms. The first classrooms had kindergarten through third grade, the second classroom had fourth through sixth, and the last classroom (which took up the entire 'auditorium') was seventh through high school. A pretty archaic system for a school in the middle of a town with a population in the double-digit thousands. But it wasn't like the other Christian schools in town (there were only two others, not like where I presently live where there's a Catholic school on every corner). I took a test in the summer and was given textbooks based on how well I'd tested. Because of a general lack of trying combined with a type of number dyslexia I tested two grades to low in math, but in every other subject I tested at my grade or in the case of English, higher. Everyone was given their assignments for the week in a planner and worked in silence throughout the day, and if you were behind you ate your lunch at your desk while you worked to catch up.
By the time I left that school I had just begun the math in the grade I was supposed to be at, and for that reason my mom made the difficult choice to hold me back a year.
My first year in a public school and I repeated fifth grade.
As it turns out, I had little to complain about. The difference between going to school in a Private school like the one I had just left, and going to school at a public school was enough to make me the second most socially awkward person in the class. The kids in class were talking about things I only half understood, I was once passed a note inquiring about the state of my teachers ass, and I had more things stolen from me that year than I'd aquired! Much of what I learned was just a new perspective on old things, since I had basically taken that class already, which made it easier for me to acclimate to the brand new world of "Outside the Christian Lifestyle!"
But even that forage into the new world would not prepare me for what was to come next.
The second year of fifth grade had been out of my district, at a school my mom was teaching at. She didn't want me to have to go through my first year of public school completely cut off. It helped a lot, kids didn't pick on me as much, when my own mom was literally in the next classroom.
But she wanted me to have friends before I went to the middle school I was zoned for, so in sixth grade (at the time still being taught in elementary school) I went to Desert View. It was a year I still look back on and shudder. Not only was I the new kid, but I had been put in what was basically an ELL class (English Language Learners). I was the only white girl in a class of Mexican kids.
I never made any lasting friendships. If I see any of the kids I met in that year, we never stop for much more than a "how're you?" and that's never with the kids I shared a classroom with. It was the most miserable year of my life, I'd come to realize I'd been sheltered at the last two schools. This was what the real world was like. And I was failing. My parents had sheltered me, had regulated the books I read and the shows I watched. I was an outcast, I didn't like the Backstreet Boys, I didn't play Pokemon. I wasn't athletic, so I couldn't play their sports. Hell, I didn't even know there was a wrong way to color (I thought it was fine as long as you stayed in the lines....) Everything I did just made the other kids look down on me. When another girl came into class in the middle of the year and was made fun of I befriended her, but she ended up being the wrong kind of friend, it was from her I first heard the word "bitch" and she was using it on me. Anytime I tried to fit in, it backfired.
I'm not sure I would have gotten through that year if I hadn't had my kitten and my god.
And I'm not even sure it was the Christian god at that point.

That's when I had started to climb the willow in the backyard every night and pour out all my woes to an "angel" I was convinced inhabited the tree. Because I knew god would listen to my prayers, but this wasn't a prayer, this was therapy, so that's why god had put an angel in the tree to listen to me.

Until next week, I am Tasho
An ex-born again, bi-sexual, pagan!


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