Janelle Evans

Your high school years are going to be fast, in fact, it’s going to surprise you how fast they go by. So be sure to suck every once of participation you can out of the experience. You’ll never do it again–at least the physically go to high school part.

Now, the land mines of personalities clashes and the petty vengeful deeds of others are never going to end. Yeah, it’s the worst part of high school, and sadly, it’s an eternal punishment for us all. It’s the dirty little secret that adults don’t really talk about. Some jerks never outgrow their horrible behavior, and often pass the attitude onto their kids.

On more than one occasion I have pondered why it seems like only the bad stuff in every era of life follows us into the next. If I had to take something from high school, I would have rather kept my flexibility and the pain-free joints. For those of my readers who survived those years, what do you still wish you had from high school?

The high school football season is upon us here where I live. First, I need to say how grateful I am that the leaders in my state and local government have decided to let the kids play during this pandemic. They need it and, quite frankly, I need it, too.

Sadly, our high school lost its first game of the season this week. The game actually started out on a positive note. We scored in the first few seconds of the game and even scored again before the first quarter was over. But the game turned sour in the second quarter. Not because of the refs, though I’m sure there are many boys on the team today who are thinking that. No, the boys, now full of pride, began to boast and taunt the other team. Flags flew, un-sportsman like conduct and other personal fouls started to be handed out at almost every down. Every hard-fought yard we gained only ended up being swallowed by first the boasting penalties, then the poor attitudes that grew as our opponent passed us on the scoreboard. As spectators, the team melted down before our eyes. It was disheartening.

I asked my youngest son as we walked back to our vehicle after the game what he learned by watching the spectacle.

“I don’t know. I learn more by playing the game than watching it. What was I supposed to learn?”

I tried not to rolled my eyes at his typical boy response. “Do you think all those personal fouls were a good thing?”

“No, it kept pushing them backwards on the field so they couldn’t get a first down and had to kick the ball away to the other team.”

“Yes, it did.” I was thrilled he at least paid enough attention to grasp that. “What could our team have done differently to avoid them?”

“I don’t know. I guess stop talking back all the time.”

I almost raised my hands in the air with hallelujah excitement. “Exactly. Remember this moment and always be aware of your attitude on the field. It is the one thing you always have control over. Games are never won by words, so be a player of action.” Or so help me, he might one day see his mother walking onto the field to remove him by his ear if he ever tries to get mouthy in a game.

Yep, I’m blogging about the motorcycle again, but at the rate my son is going, I’m afraid this will be become a staple of examples of what not to do.

My son had first real crash on his motorcycle this week, though, at first, he didn’t admit it when he walked in the door.

He hadn’t been gone that long, which surprised me. “Was it too hot to ride?” I said.

“Yeah. I’m gonna go take a shower, my arm is bothering me.”

With such a weird respond I pressed him further. “Your arm is bothering you? Did you wreck on the bike?”

“No, my arm is just hurting.” He took off his shirt and turned away from me to put it in the hamper.

One look at the scratches on his back and I knew he was lying. “Son, I grew up around motorcycles. I know what road rash looks like. You wrecked on the bike.” Even at this point, I still managed to keep my calm, but after eighteen years of raising kids I’ve gotten pretty good at glaring in such a way it puts the fear of what I might say to their dad in them.

“Yes.” He burst into tears. “Please don’t take the bike away.”

“Son, I’m not going to take the bike away. Why do you think I bought you the helmet and riding gloves, and ask that you wear solid shoes and pants every time you ride? I knew you would dump the bike.” I haven’t even put the new grips for the bike on yet for this very reason. “Everyone who has ever learned to ride a motorcycle has crashed at least once. Now, be honest with me, what were you doing?”

He sniffled, his words hiccuped and choppy. “Trying to jump.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “You mean the jump your older brother told you about?”

His nod made me sigh. “Son, you have been riding for less than two weeks. You don’t even know what you should be doing in the air to land safely from a jump. We talked about this. That kind of overconfidence can cost you your life. Please tell me you, at least, realize this?”

He nodded some more.

“And never lie about this kind of stuff again, especially when it’s about the motorcycle. Because it’s easy to chalk up any ache you experience at your age to growing pains, but being involved in a motorcycle crash and your arm hurts now warrants a doctor visit and an x-ray.”

Thankfully, the x-ray showed no broken bones and his arm is feeling better every day, but this experience highlights one of the worst frailties of the human condition–the thinking that a lie will somehow help you escape punishment. Even if you manage to benefit, for a time, from a lie. In the end, lies only end up hurting you more. Imagine if his arm had been broken, but I had believed his initial lie. I wouldn’t have considered seeking help for his pain for who knows how many days later. And in the end, the truth would have come out anyway–like it always does. So, no matter the consequences, telling the truth is always better. Just start there and let the chips fall where they may.

I truly believe the measure of somebody’s character is what they do when nobody’s looking. Are you thoughtful when nobody is around to recognize your good deed? Are you honest, even if there’s nobody there to catch you stealing?

Maybe you think choosing to do the right thing all the time takes a massive amount of integrity. It does–at the beginning–but not forever. The longer you live by integrity, the temptation to cheat, steal, lie lessens. Over time, it can become so ingrained in you, you almost don’t even think of doing anything else but the right thing.

The contrary is true, also. It’s hard to cheat, lie, or steal the first time you do it. The light we all have within ourselves recognizes and grieves when we do wrong. But, if we continue to do those things, the sorrow we have for such actions will diminish until we almost feel nothing at all. Often, people have many excuses for choosing such behavior, but I should warn you. Once someone reaches this point where doing wrong no longer bothers them, it’s difficult, almost impossible, to free oneself out of the mired misery they’ve created.