There were certain things I could do on the weekends, usually without a hassle; invite friends over, walk around the lake, go to certain friends' houses to watch VHS movies, and, that was about it.
One thing that my mom in particular had a problem with was going to the movies. Once I was in junior high and started taking more of an interest in boys, my mom did not want me to go to the movies. Her belief was, if adolescents go to the movies unchaperoned, they are going to pair up and make out in the dark. Maybe she watched Happy Days too much or something. Between not being allowed to have a boyfriend until I turned 18 and having low self esteem from my dad's constant criticism and being suspected of liking girls, I was far from being the girl that all the boys were after - that was usually one of my friends. I think her other objection was the subject matter of the movie itself. Was it sexual, profane, violent? For whatever reason, movies watched in the movie theather unchaperoned were more dangerous to the adolescent mind than movies watched in the home under parental supervision.
Another activity that was NEVER permitted was sleepovers. Except if it were at our family friends' house in Winter Park. So, I spent as much of my youth in Winter Park as I could. Even if my parents also stayed the weekend, it was better than being trapped in our house where I would inevitably do something wrong.
So, I "studied" a lot. Okay, I did study. You know the stereotype of Philippine parents being very demanding of their kids so they will accelerate in academics....So, I did strive to keep up with my grades. Well, sometimes. I always tried to get Bs at least, so I wouldn't get in trouble.
Anyway, when I was in junior high school, I went to the library a lot. If I didn't have band practice or lessons, then I went to the library. I did study. It was really more of a social hour though. I would meet my friends and we would camp out in the young adult section. We would do our homework, pass notes, get in trouble with the library security guy who we lovingly nicknamed Titwacker. There, was a convience store across the street from the library, so if we got thirsty or hungry we would take a study break and buy cokes and candy. Lots of candy.
There was also a lake across the other side of the library. There were ducks, geese and swans there, and we would bring stale bread or splurge and buy some bread at the store and feed the ducks. The study sessions were gruelling, but, we had to make those good grades.
Starting in eighth grade I went to band camp in the summer. The first two years were at FSU and only for a week or so, but it was...the time of my life. The first time I had been away from my parents or my friends' parents. I loved it, so when I found out there was a camp in Boone, NC for three weeks, I was in.
Some of my friends went to another better camp for 6 weeks, but it was that much more expensive, so I went to Cannon Music Camp. This was even better. We were on campus in the mountains. During the first summer, I met so many friends. I wrote lots of letters to my band camp friends when I got back home. Some people wrote me back. Some wrote more than others. One friend, a boy with whom I shared a common musical taste, wrote a lot. And I wrote back. We were averaging a letter a week. Thick letters that sometimes needed two stamps. My mom worried. My dad didn't like it, although he didn't really say anything.
So, when I asked to go back to band camp the next year, my dad said no. I'm sure my mom probably didn't want me to go either, but it was my dad who was the most vocal. I begged and begged, and I pleaded that I wanted to go to learn music. I don't know how, but finally I got my parents to agree to let me go. I think they were in fear of my virginity. Which is funny, because I was not ready for that step. Not with a three week band camp. For me, holding hands in public and making out whenever we felt like it was a big deal.
During the school year, band was still my main escape. For some reason, before I marched in band, my mom was scared to let me go to football games in junior high. Every once in a while, a big game with rival teams would get rowdy, but it wasn't like going to a scottish "footy" match.
Band took up more time in high school, and once my friends got their drivers licenses, band allowed more freedom. Whenever I left the house, I had to say who was driving, who was in the car, where we were going and what time I would be back (which was always whenever my curfew was). With Friday night football games came later nights. The game would end fairly late, and sometimes I was allowed to go to Pizza Hut afterwards, which is where all us band geeks hung out. This was the life. I could go to games, no questions asked, and I could stay out later! I could almost feel like a regular teen.
When I was in high school and gas was still cheap and cars that my friends drove got good mileage, we used to just drive around on the weekends. I would tell my mom we were "going around the lake", which would technically not be a lie. We would drive around the lake a lot. We would also go to the Ames lot where the cute skater boys skated. We also went to two of the older skater boys' houses. They were older and so their pads became hangouts.
I didn't really do too many things that were particularly bad before I graduated high school. The first time I got drunk was my senior year of high school, and it's not like I started getting drunk every weekend after that. I did lie a lot, or not tell the whole truth. I didn't want to be trapped in the house with my dad, so I left as much as I could. I think it sometimes hurt my mom, but she didn't quite understand the trepidation I lived with 24/7. If I was in the house with my dad, I had to premeditate every move. I stayed in my room a lot, even though I knew it was no safe haven, but the less he saw me, the less chance of me enraging him.
So, it's no wonder I wanted to go to college far away. I applied to Boston University and was accepted, but my dad said it didn't matter where I did my first two years of college and I should stay in state because the tuition was cheaper. So, I went as far north as I could, to FSU. Then I went to Emerson College in Boston for grad school. Now I live in San Diego. I can try to move as far away from my dad as I want, but I know that my unresolved issues with him, and his problems that he faces won't go away just because I am not nearby.
Another activity that was NEVER permitted was sleepovers. Except if it were at our family friends' house in Winter Park. So, I spent as much of my youth in Winter Park as I could. Even if my parents also stayed the weekend, it was better than being trapped in our house where I would inevitably do something wrong.
So, I "studied" a lot. Okay, I did study. You know the stereotype of Philippine parents being very demanding of their kids so they will accelerate in academics....So, I did strive to keep up with my grades. Well, sometimes. I always tried to get Bs at least, so I wouldn't get in trouble.
Anyway, when I was in junior high school, I went to the library a lot. If I didn't have band practice or lessons, then I went to the library. I did study. It was really more of a social hour though. I would meet my friends and we would camp out in the young adult section. We would do our homework, pass notes, get in trouble with the library security guy who we lovingly nicknamed Titwacker. There, was a convience store across the street from the library, so if we got thirsty or hungry we would take a study break and buy cokes and candy. Lots of candy.
There was also a lake across the other side of the library. There were ducks, geese and swans there, and we would bring stale bread or splurge and buy some bread at the store and feed the ducks. The study sessions were gruelling, but, we had to make those good grades.
Starting in eighth grade I went to band camp in the summer. The first two years were at FSU and only for a week or so, but it was...the time of my life. The first time I had been away from my parents or my friends' parents. I loved it, so when I found out there was a camp in Boone, NC for three weeks, I was in.
Some of my friends went to another better camp for 6 weeks, but it was that much more expensive, so I went to Cannon Music Camp. This was even better. We were on campus in the mountains. During the first summer, I met so many friends. I wrote lots of letters to my band camp friends when I got back home. Some people wrote me back. Some wrote more than others. One friend, a boy with whom I shared a common musical taste, wrote a lot. And I wrote back. We were averaging a letter a week. Thick letters that sometimes needed two stamps. My mom worried. My dad didn't like it, although he didn't really say anything.
So, when I asked to go back to band camp the next year, my dad said no. I'm sure my mom probably didn't want me to go either, but it was my dad who was the most vocal. I begged and begged, and I pleaded that I wanted to go to learn music. I don't know how, but finally I got my parents to agree to let me go. I think they were in fear of my virginity. Which is funny, because I was not ready for that step. Not with a three week band camp. For me, holding hands in public and making out whenever we felt like it was a big deal.
During the school year, band was still my main escape. For some reason, before I marched in band, my mom was scared to let me go to football games in junior high. Every once in a while, a big game with rival teams would get rowdy, but it wasn't like going to a scottish "footy" match.
Band took up more time in high school, and once my friends got their drivers licenses, band allowed more freedom. Whenever I left the house, I had to say who was driving, who was in the car, where we were going and what time I would be back (which was always whenever my curfew was). With Friday night football games came later nights. The game would end fairly late, and sometimes I was allowed to go to Pizza Hut afterwards, which is where all us band geeks hung out. This was the life. I could go to games, no questions asked, and I could stay out later! I could almost feel like a regular teen.
When I was in high school and gas was still cheap and cars that my friends drove got good mileage, we used to just drive around on the weekends. I would tell my mom we were "going around the lake", which would technically not be a lie. We would drive around the lake a lot. We would also go to the Ames lot where the cute skater boys skated. We also went to two of the older skater boys' houses. They were older and so their pads became hangouts.
I didn't really do too many things that were particularly bad before I graduated high school. The first time I got drunk was my senior year of high school, and it's not like I started getting drunk every weekend after that. I did lie a lot, or not tell the whole truth. I didn't want to be trapped in the house with my dad, so I left as much as I could. I think it sometimes hurt my mom, but she didn't quite understand the trepidation I lived with 24/7. If I was in the house with my dad, I had to premeditate every move. I stayed in my room a lot, even though I knew it was no safe haven, but the less he saw me, the less chance of me enraging him.
So, it's no wonder I wanted to go to college far away. I applied to Boston University and was accepted, but my dad said it didn't matter where I did my first two years of college and I should stay in state because the tuition was cheaper. So, I went as far north as I could, to FSU. Then I went to Emerson College in Boston for grad school. Now I live in San Diego. I can try to move as far away from my dad as I want, but I know that my unresolved issues with him, and his problems that he faces won't go away just because I am not nearby.
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