Karen asks, “What will your kids do without an annual yearbook? Even elementary schools have them nowadays.”
Elementary schools offer them. I do not buy them. Twice-yearly pictures were enough. I barely gave enough of a flip about the other kids in Captain Science’s class to buy the class picture. I certainly did not ever give enough of a flip about the other kids in the entire school to buy a yearbook. I am not a cash cow and do not appreciate being milked by anyone other than my nursing baby.
Really, when is the last time you opened up your yearbooks? How much meaning do they really have to you in adulthood? I think I look at mine every few years, mainly when I need a reminder of how much I hated high school and 99.97% of the people in my graduating class. Yearbooks are a $50 way of remembering a time period that I actually wish I could effectively block from my memory. High school days were not my glory days. I don’t look on them fondly. I don’t wax poetical while poring over black and white pictures of people who mostly grew up to be the kind of people I add on Facebook and summarily delete, because they are just that insufferable. You will not see me weeping over a lack of a yearbook.
Should my children express a longing for something of this nature, I’ll gather together all of their homeschooled friends. We’ll do photoshoots, get photobooks printed, and they can all sign each other’s photobooks. They’ll be classier, less expensive, and full of only the people they liked and want to remember, rather than the overpriced remembrance of people he barely knew, didn’t particularly like, and won’t bother to keep in contact with after graduation.
And that is what a [Smrt] Homeschooler has to say about yearbooks.
Do you have a question for the [Smrt] Homeschooler? Email them to
smrtmama@smrtlernins.com
