some thoughts on small town education

As much as I hate to admit it, it feels like fall in Idaho. I can't help but think about Salmon this time of year...how much I miss it, how glad I am that it's not too far away. How relieved I am that I already did my time at SHS. How indebted I am to the teachers who taught me all that I needed to know.

{Gosh, sorry to go on these little rants, but I just can't help it sometimes.} 

Hopefully my Salmon readers will enjoy.

...

For the last few days I have been trying to explain to Tyler what it feels like to grow up in Salmon, and I have come to the conclusion that it simply cannot be done. You just have to live it. You know? 

Until you're out there on the field playing in that senior powder puff game, or pretending to be an "office aid" just so you can get out of class for an hour, or driving 80 miles an hour to beat the lunch crowds at Saveway deli, you haven't truly lived it.

Call me what you will, but I dang near get choked up thinking things like this...

{Notice what little babes we still were? Just youngins then.}

I have also been thinking about the education I received in Salmon. Granted, I did not blow everyone away with my intelligence in college. I did not attend an Ivy League school, or get accepted to some fancy medical program. I most certainly have not gotten rich. {Not yet anyway, right?}

But I did make memories that will last a lifetime. 

And I did learn to love others who live by different rules than I do. 

And I did walk away with plenty of common sense. 

And I could probably gut an animal if it came down to it.

And we learned that by testing the limits a little bit, you figure out just how much you can get away with.

And my dreams for the future were cared for and respected by the people I shared them with.

And the people around me believed in me. 

{Cause really, we're all batting for the same team when you think about it.}

I learned how to work. How to save money. How to be happy with what I had. How to depend on others and be dependable myself. How to solve physics equations using the only elevator in town. How to talk about literature, and how to memorize a ridiculous amount of body parts in nothin' flat. And even if we can't speak Spanish all that well, the class of '09 could throw a hoppin' fiesta.

...

I felt a little offended when I first went back to Salmon and saw that we had been so easily replaced. The next class had stepped right up and filled our shoes. They carried on the same traditions, entertained themselves in the same ways, and participated in the same events. They went to Friday night football games, signed themselves out of class, floated the river on those hot summer days, planned parties and dances, and ruled the school. Our school. 

Just as my resentment was growing, I realized something kind of beautiful about that quaint little town.

I realized that at the heart and soul of Salmon is the ability to make every person feel needed. 

Each and every member of our class was important, wanted, and loved. 

Every lesson we were taught in school was thought out, planned, and prepared.

The teachers made us feel like we were the only class to come up with what we thought were "brilliant" ideas. They took a genuine interest in our well being...inside of school, and out.

We felt irreplaceable. 

I'm here to tell ya, you just don't get that in the big cities.