The Compleat Scholar

Unfortunately, I never finished high school, because my parents sent me to a private school at the age of 14. This severe handicap in my preparation for life has often plagued-me. Friends' fond reminiscences of sock-hops and eider sales, of the gaiety and glamour of high school life, set aching in me a vast void that seemed destined never to be filled.

Bored one night on the subway, and reflecting on my ill-spent youth, I noticed a passel of pre-paid post cards dangling overhead. Wayne School in Chicago offered me--free and with no obligation, a card said--a booklet that would tell me how I could complete my high school education at home. I sent in the card.

Days passed.

Then it came. "How to Finish High School at Home." 8 1/2" x 11". 24 pp. With serene confidence, a young man and a young woman, dressed in black mortarboard and academic robes, stared at me from the cover. They have seen what it's like, I thought, the sock-hops and the hoop frays, the twirling batons and the blaring bands. Tears welled to my eyes as I opened the booklet.

"Will you stop eating onion, for Heaven's sake?" my roommate shouted.

So I put down my onion.

"Of course I'm a high school graduate," declared the girl on page 4, proudly holding her Wayne School diploma. I looked at the cover. Yes, it was the same girl. She must be awfully proud, I thought. I don't think I've ever done anything in my whole life that I'm that proud of, I thought.

Thousands of routine jobs [the booklet continued] which formerly could be handled by unschooled help have now been swallowed up by computers and push button machines. The better jobs remaining, which pay more money and offer more possibilities for promotion call for the better type of applicant. With more knowledge and more abilities. Employers have come to regard the high school graduate as the better type of applicant they are looking for.

Suddenly I realized why I hadn't gotten job as editor of the New York Times, why girls laughed when they passed me on the street; I wasn't the better type of applicant.

Now look at the intangible things a diploma can bring which money can't buy: Self-confidence--knowing you have the training and the ability to forge ahead in your work. Social poise--knowing you can hold your own in any discussion because of your background in English, history, literature and other high school subjects, More interesting personality--an asset that only education can develop and that attracts new friends in both business and social situations.

What would my literary friends say when I whipped out my high school diploma?

More employment out of life--because of your widened range of interests.

I was convinced. I could hardly wait to take civics--"An up to date subject that explains how our democracy works and how you can help it work even better"; geography--"about the earth we live on and how it effects your life every day"; and air conditioning--"Advanced portion of the course teaches laying out duct systems, fans, blowers, air filters, pumps,...physiology of comfort, testing, instruments for testing."

The whole course catalogue, from "American history" through "Welding," offered a really fascinating first-hand glimpse at the knowledge explosion that so confounds scholars today.

In addition, "your Wayne textbooks are included without extra cost. They make a handsome personal library." I knew my friends would be impressed when they saw on my shelf Welchons and Krickenberger's New Plane Geometry or Crabbe, Enterline, and DeBrum's General Business.

Though the catalog didn't mention anything about the sock-hops and get-togethers after the big game that I desired so ardently, I knew that it was merely dissimulating through scholarly rectitude. And so I am waiting eagerly for the authorized Wayne School registrar near my home to come visit me, as the Director of Admissions promised he would in the book.

I am a little worried, though, because my copy of "How to Finish High School at Home" was addressed to Plymouth Street instead of Plympton and reached me only through the wisdom of the post office. When you write for your copy, be sure to get your address right. The long and lonesome wait for the registrar to come is hard, is hard.