July 23, 2014 at 2:10 p.m.
Following a different path to education (06/03/06)
By By BETH A. CLAYTON-
In a ceremony absent of pomp and circumstance last month, Jessica Brock, 19, walked across the stage in the Jay County auditorium, head bowed, face obscured by an onslaught of curly red hair, and accepted her GED, nearly a month before her classmates at Jay County High School were granted their diplomas.
If she didn’t look excited, it may be because, despite myriad setbacks, Jessica never doubted that she would one day hold that all-important document in her hand.
The wondering came in figuring out how to get it.
It should have been a clear path. A self-proclaimed “book worm” from the start, Jessica remembers trekking from her grandmother’s house near General Shanks Elementary School to the Jay County Public Library as a young child, lugging a dozen or so books back and finishing them all by the following week.
She remembers wanting to “give speeches” for a living as a small child and dreamed of being a doctor when her younger sister, Theresa, now 14, was diagnosed with leukemia.
She was labeled “gifted” in elementary school and took accelerated classes.
But instead, Jessica traveled a convoluted path from gifted to GED.
“I had an English teacher tell me once that my life is a soap opera and I should write it down,” Jessica recalled. “I told him that no one would believe it.”
Jessica spent most of her young life shuttling between her mother, Christina Parrish, and grandmother, Janice Calhoun, who lived just a few houses down the street, while Christina worked two jobs and spent time with Theresa during hospital stays.
The summer after first grade, with Theresa making a full recovery, Christina remarried and packed up the family and moved to Mooresville, south of Indianapolis, but returned less than a year later when Jessica’s grandfather passed away.
Things were relatively smooth sailing for a few years, until Jessica hit the troubled waters of middle school.
“I did the worst thing ever,” she said. “I got a group of girlfriends.”
Jessica’s descriptions of note-passing, back-stabbing and boyfriend-stealing could come straight from a how-to book on ostracizing adolescents.
“I’m an honest person. I expect everyone else to be honest too and that doesn’t always happen,” she said.
Jessica retreated further to her books and refrained from school activities in an attempt to avoid bullying.
And then the real trouble began.
Concerned for her daughter’s health, Jessica’s mother mistook her isolation as a sign of a mental disorder and pulled her out of school one October afternoon of Jessica’s sophomore year.
After two visits with a psychiatrist, Jessica was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, a brain disorder characterized by manic outbursts of energy followed by lethargic, depressed episodes, and was prescribed the drug Depakote.
“They didn’t waste any time,” said Jessica.
According to Jessica, the drug, which can have a sedative affect made her sleepy, disoriented and unable to remember things.
After falling behind in classes and losing the few friends she had because of her drug-induced “cardboard personality,” Jessica declared bipolar disorder a “misdiagnosis” and stopped taking the medicine.
But the damage had been done. Her grades had slipped and she risked losing credit in some of her classes, so just before the end of her sophomore year, Jessica’s mother decided that another move to Mooresville was in order.
Jessica had a fresh start at Mooresville High School and made a decision that would be her social demise. Again.
“I befriended a transsexual guy named Victor, and he caused quite a fuss wearing a dress to school,” said Jessica. And then came the bullying.
Again.
“Getting shoved in the halls a couple of times is one thing, but the shouts, the jeers,” said Jessica.
Appeals to high school counselors did little good, as no physical violence could be pinpointed. By the end of the first semester, her grades were once again slipping, and Jessica took matters into her own hands.
Again.
She enrolled in Mooresville Alternative School. Alternative schools are not generally known for academic rigor or an overachieving student body.
Yet Jessica, books, brains and all, had found her niche.
“I thought it was just the greatest thing because I could just sit there with my paper and homework and everyone would just leave me alone,” she laughed.
But just when things were going well, Jessica decided to shake things up a bit. Again.
After celebrating her 18th birthday and facing another year of what she called family conflict in Mooresville, Jessica “skipped town” and drove to North Carolina to live with her long-distance boyfriend, David, whom she met six years ago in an Internet chat room.
Attempts to enroll in public high school in North Carolina were unsuccessful because she was not living with a legal guardian, so after just a month, it was back to Portland.
“It wouldn’t have been such a bad decision (to go to North Carolina) if they would have let me in (the school system),” Jessica said.
But instead, Jessica once again found herself standing in front of the doors of Jay County High School.
“Coming back to a normal high school was like a culture shock,” said Jessica. “People had their expectations of me, even though I had changed. It took me two weeks to decide it wasn’t worth it.”
In addition to the social turmoil, years of school-jumping and incomplete semesters meant that she would be forced to attend summer school and an additional nine weeks of school this fall.
So on a Friday afternoon in September, Jessica marched to the guidance office, withdrew from JCHS and devised a plan.
Again.
On Monday morning, she enrolled to earn her GED from the John Jay Center for Learning. She breezed through her classes, a month before her classmates and six months before she would have finished had she stayed at JCHS.
Soon, she began the process of applying to Ball State University.
“It was tossed right in with the GED stuff,” she said. “But I didn’t really think I would get in.”
Admissions counselors at Ball State saw past the sporadic high school transcript and GED and instead saw a determined girl who graduated in the top 5 percent of all GED grads in the nation for 2006.
She was also awarded a scholarship from The Portland Foundation.
Her chosen profession? Teaching.
She said she plans to study either sociology or history and hopes to someday teach at the high school or college level.
“I have my life where I want it now, and I don’t want to go back there,” she said.
In August, Jessica will load her Nissan Sentra with an array of books and her signature solid-color tees and baggy pants, and drive to Muncie to move in to the Ball State dorms.
She will start over.
Again.[[In-content Ad]]
If she didn’t look excited, it may be because, despite myriad setbacks, Jessica never doubted that she would one day hold that all-important document in her hand.
The wondering came in figuring out how to get it.
It should have been a clear path. A self-proclaimed “book worm” from the start, Jessica remembers trekking from her grandmother’s house near General Shanks Elementary School to the Jay County Public Library as a young child, lugging a dozen or so books back and finishing them all by the following week.
She remembers wanting to “give speeches” for a living as a small child and dreamed of being a doctor when her younger sister, Theresa, now 14, was diagnosed with leukemia.
She was labeled “gifted” in elementary school and took accelerated classes.
But instead, Jessica traveled a convoluted path from gifted to GED.
“I had an English teacher tell me once that my life is a soap opera and I should write it down,” Jessica recalled. “I told him that no one would believe it.”
Jessica spent most of her young life shuttling between her mother, Christina Parrish, and grandmother, Janice Calhoun, who lived just a few houses down the street, while Christina worked two jobs and spent time with Theresa during hospital stays.
The summer after first grade, with Theresa making a full recovery, Christina remarried and packed up the family and moved to Mooresville, south of Indianapolis, but returned less than a year later when Jessica’s grandfather passed away.
Things were relatively smooth sailing for a few years, until Jessica hit the troubled waters of middle school.
“I did the worst thing ever,” she said. “I got a group of girlfriends.”
Jessica’s descriptions of note-passing, back-stabbing and boyfriend-stealing could come straight from a how-to book on ostracizing adolescents.
“I’m an honest person. I expect everyone else to be honest too and that doesn’t always happen,” she said.
Jessica retreated further to her books and refrained from school activities in an attempt to avoid bullying.
And then the real trouble began.
Concerned for her daughter’s health, Jessica’s mother mistook her isolation as a sign of a mental disorder and pulled her out of school one October afternoon of Jessica’s sophomore year.
After two visits with a psychiatrist, Jessica was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, a brain disorder characterized by manic outbursts of energy followed by lethargic, depressed episodes, and was prescribed the drug Depakote.
“They didn’t waste any time,” said Jessica.
According to Jessica, the drug, which can have a sedative affect made her sleepy, disoriented and unable to remember things.
After falling behind in classes and losing the few friends she had because of her drug-induced “cardboard personality,” Jessica declared bipolar disorder a “misdiagnosis” and stopped taking the medicine.
But the damage had been done. Her grades had slipped and she risked losing credit in some of her classes, so just before the end of her sophomore year, Jessica’s mother decided that another move to Mooresville was in order.
Jessica had a fresh start at Mooresville High School and made a decision that would be her social demise. Again.
“I befriended a transsexual guy named Victor, and he caused quite a fuss wearing a dress to school,” said Jessica. And then came the bullying.
Again.
“Getting shoved in the halls a couple of times is one thing, but the shouts, the jeers,” said Jessica.
Appeals to high school counselors did little good, as no physical violence could be pinpointed. By the end of the first semester, her grades were once again slipping, and Jessica took matters into her own hands.
Again.
She enrolled in Mooresville Alternative School. Alternative schools are not generally known for academic rigor or an overachieving student body.
Yet Jessica, books, brains and all, had found her niche.
“I thought it was just the greatest thing because I could just sit there with my paper and homework and everyone would just leave me alone,” she laughed.
But just when things were going well, Jessica decided to shake things up a bit. Again.
After celebrating her 18th birthday and facing another year of what she called family conflict in Mooresville, Jessica “skipped town” and drove to North Carolina to live with her long-distance boyfriend, David, whom she met six years ago in an Internet chat room.
Attempts to enroll in public high school in North Carolina were unsuccessful because she was not living with a legal guardian, so after just a month, it was back to Portland.
“It wouldn’t have been such a bad decision (to go to North Carolina) if they would have let me in (the school system),” Jessica said.
But instead, Jessica once again found herself standing in front of the doors of Jay County High School.
“Coming back to a normal high school was like a culture shock,” said Jessica. “People had their expectations of me, even though I had changed. It took me two weeks to decide it wasn’t worth it.”
In addition to the social turmoil, years of school-jumping and incomplete semesters meant that she would be forced to attend summer school and an additional nine weeks of school this fall.
So on a Friday afternoon in September, Jessica marched to the guidance office, withdrew from JCHS and devised a plan.
Again.
On Monday morning, she enrolled to earn her GED from the John Jay Center for Learning. She breezed through her classes, a month before her classmates and six months before she would have finished had she stayed at JCHS.
Soon, she began the process of applying to Ball State University.
“It was tossed right in with the GED stuff,” she said. “But I didn’t really think I would get in.”
Admissions counselors at Ball State saw past the sporadic high school transcript and GED and instead saw a determined girl who graduated in the top 5 percent of all GED grads in the nation for 2006.
She was also awarded a scholarship from The Portland Foundation.
Her chosen profession? Teaching.
She said she plans to study either sociology or history and hopes to someday teach at the high school or college level.
“I have my life where I want it now, and I don’t want to go back there,” she said.
In August, Jessica will load her Nissan Sentra with an array of books and her signature solid-color tees and baggy pants, and drive to Muncie to move in to the Ball State dorms.
She will start over.
Again.[[In-content Ad]]
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