I didn’t know why I couldn’t tell them. I just couldn’t stand the thought of
people patting me on the back, telling me how impressive I was. I didn’t want
to be Horatio Alger in someone’s tear-filled homage to the American dream.
I wanted my life to make sense, and nothing in that narrative made sense to
me.
A month before my graduation, I visited Buck’s Peak. Dad had read the
articles about my scholarship, and what he said was, “You didn’t mention
home school. I’d think you’d be more grateful that your mother and I took
you out of them schools, seeing how it’s worked out. You should be telling
people that’s what done it: home school.”
I said nothing. Dad took it as an apology.
He disapproved of my going to Cambridge. “Our ancestors risked their
lives to cross the ocean, to escape those socialist countries. And what do you
do? You turn around and go back?”
Again, I said nothing.
“I’m looking forward to your graduation,” he said. “The Lord has a few
choice rebukes for me to give them professors.”
“You will not,” I said quietly.
“If the Lord moves me, I will stand and speak.”
“You will not,” I repeated.
“I won’t go anywhere that the Lord’s spirit isn’t welcome.”
That was the conversation. I hoped it would blow over, but Dad was so
hurt that I hadn’t mentioned homeschooling in my interviews that this new
wound festered.
There was a dinner the night before my graduation where I was to receive
the “most outstanding undergraduate” award from the history department. I
waited for my parents at the entrance, but they never appeared. I called
Mother, thinking they were running late. She said they weren’t coming. I
went to the dinner and was presented with a plaque. My table had the only
empty seats in the hall. The next day there was a luncheon for honors
graduates, and I was seated with the college dean and the director of the
honors program. Again, there were two empty seats. I said my parents had
had car trouble.
I phoned my mother after the luncheon.
“Your father won’t come unless you apologize,” she said. “And I won’t,
either.”