Monday, August 23, 2004


I went to a Bais Yaakov elementary school. By 8th grade, I was sick of it. I wanted out. I chose the most modern high school in my nieghborhood and tried it out for a year. It was hellish. After 9th grade, I had a decision to make. Stick it out 3 more miserable years, or go back to that Bais Yaakov with the hideous uniform and insanely restrictive rules.

You guessed it. I decided to go back to the Bais Yaakov. During my decision period, I remember telling people, "it's not a matter of whether they'll take me back, it's a matter of whether I want to go." Idiot. I had only been there all my life, and had connections with the principal, so I thought it wouldn't be major. When they heard I wanted to come back, their initial reaction was, "absolutely not. You go to a modern school and then want to come back here? No way." Don't mind the fact that the building fund my parents paid all those years built the high school. Or the fact that I had attended that school all my life. Here's the kicker. I went to the modern school, and I am asking to come back to a Bais Yaakov school. Do the math. That means I got my rebellious stuff out of my system and I am ready to be subject to your tyranny. If anything, you should want me more now than you did after 8th grade, where I still had all my rebellion ready and rearin' to go. But, I guess not.

I used every connection I had. I was told that the only way I had a chance to get back in was if my friends left. "If you come back in, you will strengthen the bad group, which they are trying to eradicate." Thanks. I appreciate honesty, so I am glad this messanger delivered the message loud and clear. By the way, they were stuck on the wrong group. My group's problem was that we listen to Goyish music, and watch TV, and don't lie about it, oh, and none of our parents donated $30,000 to the school. The other group that they loved, (besides the real frum kids, whom i love) was the rich snobby fakers. They were involved with boys, hanging out Motzei Shabbos, etc. They didn't get in trouble because their parents paid for the whole damn school, so they put a blind eye to that. Anyway, luckily, the real bad seeds in my group left, so i was allowed an interview.

I showed up in a consipucously pinned blouse, a uniform skirt, (the only one I had that wasn't denim, not too long, or didn't have a slit. I'm a goyte, what can I tell you) mid-calf socks, and sneakers. Not a stitch of make-up. That was the fakest I should ever have to be. Amen. Then i lied about how I don't want to watch TV anymore, and I am stopping to listen to goyishe music, and all that garbage they wanted to hear. They reluctantly accepted me on probation.

You'll hear more of my HS experiences as the blog goes on.


At 4/26/2006 6:29 AM, Blogger JBL the first said...

By mentioning that building fund, you just revealed which school it was. Anyhow I thought you don't like using the word goyte on antone. NO exceptions!


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