Fifty Years Ago…

By Rick Ryckeley

The new year is once again upon us but today marks fifty years (plus four and a half months) that something extraordinary happened in my life. To some, remembering anything from that long ago is difficult, but I remember it like it was yesterday – and for good reason. I had a first-row seat to the happening…well kinda. You see, it was one of the worst choices I’ve ever made…it was also one of the best lessons I’ve ever learned. I’ll explain.

The non-regrettable regrettable decision.  

My decision wasn’t made hastily. It was made thoughtfully and deliberately. The logic I’d used was infallible, at least as infallible as a seventeen-year-old’s logic can be. But at the time I was mad – REALLY mad. Still, I remember every event of that day, even though I wasn’t even there. 

Briarwood High School had two different educational tracks for students to follow. Students that planned to attend college one day chose the Academic track, and those who knew that they would not attend college chose the General track. At the time I attended Briarwood, the school was set up from the eighth to twelfth grades, and each new eighth-grade student had to decide which path of study they would follow for the next five years. 

An easy choice.

The easiest choices in life are the ones you don’t have to make because they are made for you. Such was the case with whether to choose the Academic or General track. Long before even stepping foot onto the grounds of Briarwood, our parents informed all of us kids (my three brothers, The Sister, and I) that we would be attending college. Going to college meant being on the Academic track, so as a new eighth grader, I was facing a total of 450 instructional credits over the next five years.

Not a fair choice.

As the years rolled by, I kept studying, getting good grades, and passing every class. After all, I was on the Academic track and going to college. It didn’t take long for me to realize those who were on the General track were taking fewer math, science, and English classes and more electives – the fun classes. Asking Dad if I could switch at the start of the tenth grade was met with a very loud response. “No! You are going to college.” I was going to respond that kids on the General track could also go to college but decided I didn’t want to get yelled at again. So, I went back to my room and studied for the math test the next day. After all, I was on the Academic track and going to college and needed 450 credits to graduate.

Math isn’t only numbers anymore.

My best subject for four of those five years spent at Briarwood was math. I can “see” numbers and equations in my mind, solve the problem, and then write the answer. Note to young readers: you must write down and show your work. Math teachers don’t just want the right answer; they want you to show how you got it. I learned this lesson early on and got straight A’s in math class. I loved numbers, angles, and symbols. I loved math all the way through school until the start of my senior year when math changed from numbers to word sentences: scenarios where you had to pick out the correct numbers, use the correct theorem, apply it, show your work, and get the correct answer.

A one-point derailment.

Math, my friend for the last four years, had suddenly turned on me. I could no longer “see” the answers in my head, much less write down my work. No matter how hard I studied, I just couldn’t square the circle of extracting numbers out of a paragraph about a train traveling from New York to Florida when five people got off, three got on, and whether the airplane arrived earlier. My grades reflected my inability to do so. The first quarter, I passed. The second quarter, I barely passed. The last quarter? Well, let’s just say math teachers will not “give” you one point on a final exam so you can pass the test…and pass the class. No amount of pleading, offering to do make-up work, or asking to retake the test made any difference. The grade stood and is forever part of my permanent record.

A mad, bad decision.

Those who were on the General track only had to receive 250 credits to graduate. Those who were on the Academic track had to receive 450 hours of credits to graduate. To this day, I’m still the only Briarwood student that received 445 credits and graduated on the General track. And even though we’d bought a cap and gown and I’d gone through all the dress rehearsals; I was so upset I decided not to go to my own graduation. Instead, I started college two weeks later. I graduated from Briarwood in 1976, our bicentennial year.

It was a few months later when I finally regretted my decision. Because I’d gotten so upset, I’d missed out on a once in a lifetime event. But there was nothing I could do about it – except change. I decided to change a negative experience into something positive. From that moment on I realized getting upset wasn’t something I ever wanted to repeat again. It was another twenty-five years before I got so upset again. But the story about how my nose got broken because of a bullies’ sucker punch will have to wait until another day. 

So, Dear Reader, I’ll end this first column of the New Year with a question. Fifty years from now, what event from this year will you look back on and say, “Wow, I remember that just like it was yesterday – and it changed my life forever.”