When I was growing up, my life always held the prospect and adventure of change. My dad, a project manager and quantity surveyor for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in the temple department, travelled a lot for his job. So, in retrospect, I didn't have an everage childhood. and I wouldn't have it any other way.
Even more unique to our family, was it's composition.
My dad is a South African immigrant to Canada, while my mom was born and raised in Alberta. They were both married and divorced before they met eachother and had children from their previous marriages. While walking around the Cardston Temple with their respective children, they met and the rest is history. This resulted in two families becoming one. Difficult? Yes, yes and yes. I like to think that it wasn’t until I was born that the family finally started to mesh. That and the fact that my siblings most probably had to rely on each other as they moved from country to country and changed schools.
When I was younger, moving was just a six letter word that went along with my dad’s job. My family lived in England where I was born while my dad worked on the London Temple and nearby European Temples. My family lived in Hong Kong while my dad was working on the Hong Kong Temple. We lived in Salt Lake City while my dad worked on the Conference Centre. If I were to take a map of the world and apply a thumbtack to every place my family has lived or has travelled...there would be a lot of thumbtacks....
As I got older, my dad travelled more and our family moved less. In this period, I was still blessed to be able to visit Taipei (you haven’t tasted dumplings or pot stickers until you taste it in Taipei), Tahiti (great place to practice your French), Cebu (no matter what- wear sun block!) and various other cities in Canada and the United States.
Due to all the moving around to places of a different culture, historical background, language and religion, my world was bigger and more open minded than most. I didn’t just see the stereotypes behind each race. I didn’t regard people differently because of their beliefs. Being able to see, travel, experience and meet people of a different culture planted a seed of tolerance and love for everyone, no matter whom, or what they believed in. Although I knew a lot about different religions and world views found in Asia- other Christian denominations were foreign to me. I was born and raised LDS, so I just always assumed other Christians believed the same things that I did.
My family’s final destination was Nanaimo, BC (that’s in Canada for those of you who are wondering). Nanaimo is an interesting city and I’m not just saying that due to obligation of living here. There are lakes everywhere, more trees than buildings (imagine that!), and beautiful ocean parks and waterfront walkways. The downside to living in Nanaimo? The number of active members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was under 300, the majority of that number being elderly or married couples with kids. Meaning? Almost NO youth my age. I grew up being the only Latter-day Saint at my school, often times the only Latter-day Saint my friends had ever met. Wrap your head around that all you folks living in Utah (broad generalization, I apologise). It’s tough stuff. When everyone knows who and what you believe, the pressure to be the best and stick to your standards can be stifling. Imagine being held under a microscope at all times and you’ll have an accurate picture of what it could be like.
School was and probably always will be if I’m being totally honest, my thing. I thrived in schoolwork. I’ll come right out and say it- I was a total teacher’s pet and straight A student, but I was well liked. I had friends at school, even a best friend.
We used to have sleepovers on Saturday night, and she’d come to church with me the next day. After a few times of this happening, she became interested in the church and so did the rest of her family. They were seriously considering joining the church. Imagine my elation at finally having someone my age at church! All of my elation and excitement however, halted one day at school. My friend approached me before school started that morning- I can remember how cold it was so vividly, and told me that her family wasn’t joining the church anymore and that she couldn’t be my friend anymore. As it turns out, once her grandparents caught wind of their family’s interest in the church they directed them to anti-mormonism content. I lost a friend and all confidence. Soon, I was being picked on and eventually I had enough. My parents pulled me out of school. I opted to finish out the rest of my grade 6 year at home. In other words: home school.
Now, I have to give props to all the people (children and adults alike) that are either a) in home school b) went to home school for their entire education c) teach their children at home. My mom taught English, and science..., and my dad? Math. You see- I’m a right brain thinker. I don’t like things that are analytical, must fit inside of a square, and stop-doodling-on-your-graph-paper thinking terminology. I am also very, very (also some might argue the fact) social. Not seeing my friends, or being in a classroom environment was slowly killing me inside. That, and the fact that my parents wanted to rescue the mother-daughter/ father-daughter relationship before tears of frustration, and schoolwork destroyed it.
My parents didn’t want me back in public school- that much was certain. I didn’t want to go back to public school either. I was over sensitive and horrified the prospect of losing friends because I was a Christian- more specifically a Latter-day Saint. After the entire fiasco that was grades 4-6, they didn’t want a repeat of my constant tears over school. That left us with only two options: a private, very expensive prep school (school a), or a private multi-denominational Christian school (school b).
Over the summer, the three of us looked into both. School A was top of the line, best education I could possibly get. It was small- ergo class sizes would be small and it would look great on all my ivy- league university applications. The faults? It was so new that there wasn’t a playground- just a bit of packed dirt for us to run around on. That was a rather large stipulation for me- school without a playground for recess. The tuition costs were also a rather large deterant. Although it had a create curriculum focus, excellent teachers and overall academic endeavours and opportunities- I felt as though it would be going to University for grades 7-12 (with a much larger tuition cost). That left School B. School B had been around for a while as primarily a K-9 school. Just a few years previous, they had extended their grades to include k-12 and boast a great pre-school. I immediately fell in love with it; it had two playgrounds and a field.
As far as I was concerned, School B was the school for me. The cherry on top? It was a Christian school; I wouldn’t have to worry about hiding my beliefs, or being scared of rejection because of them. The possibility of having the freedom to be who I was without fear was intoxicating. Little did I know how hard and ludicrous that idea would be?
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