Columns:
Sarah Brown's Village
Sarah BrownMy parents started homeschooling me when I was in the middle of seventh grade. We had just moved to a new school district, and Sycamore was supposed to be one of the “better” schools. I had gone to small town schools before this one, and Sycamore was frightening. I remember being grabbed and teased by the boys, I remember tattoos in the girl’s bathroom, with razors and permanent marker. I remember being offered a “good” deal on any kind of drug I’d like to try out, while waiting in the lunch line. There were four pregnant girls in my middle school. And I’d often get lost in the maze of halls and stairways between classes. I guess this is somewhat normal, that was seventeen years ago.
