Chapter Twelve - The Elective Power Duo

CHAPTER TWELVE

The Elective Power Duo

“YOU DON’T USE them, but you made them. And that’s what matters.”

Let’s talk about electives.
The unsung heroes of the school schedule.
Not the grind-heavy ones. Not the “study hall but with extra steps” ones.
I’m talking about the real ones. The fun ones. The power duo: Chef’s World and Ceramics.

First up: Chef’s World.

That’s what we called it, Chef’s World. It was a cooking class. And if your school offers anything like that, take it. No question. There is something truly magical about being allowed to cook during school hours. While other people are doing worksheets or taking notes on mitochondria, you’re over here learning how to sauté onions and perfectly crack an egg. That’s living.

Chef’s World was one of the rare classes that actually felt useful. I mean, I haven’t exactly julienned a carrot since then, but it’s nice to know I could if I had to. And sure, I’m not checking nutrition labels every day, but now I understand how food works. Not just how to eat it, but how to make it. How to build a plate. How to burn toast. How to fix it. That’s knowledge that sticks.

And the vibe was top-tier.
It was one of those classes where you weren’t just learning, you were hanging out.
You’re in a group, chopping and mixing and laughing. Food makes people feel like a team. We weren’t just students, we were chefs.
(Okay, maybe not chefs. But line cooks in training, at least.)

Now let’s talk Ceramics.

I took ceramics because I needed a fine arts credit. I stayed because it was sweet. You’d show up, grab a lump of clay, and just… make stuff. One time it was a mug. One time it was a box. One time I cut out the shapes of Italy, Germany, and Sweden and slapped flags on them for reasons unknown. I made a mug with a face. I don’t use it (update: I use it for holding coins rn). But it’s mine. And that’s what matters.

None of the things I made in that class are being used for their intended purpose.
But they still exist.
They sit on shelves, in closets, and in weird corners of the house, and every time I see them, I remember that room. That chill room where the older kids made me feel cool. Where I sat with headphones in, watched American Horror Story, and sculpted something weird while the kiln warmed up in the background.

Ceramics wasn’t about making the perfect thing.
It was about making something.
And cooking class wasn’t about becoming a professional chef.
It was about knowing what happens when you actually mix the ingredients yourself.

These electives gave me something no textbook ever did, ownership.
I got to create something that didn’t exist before.
And even if I don’t use those skills every day, I’ll always remember how they made me feel.

Like I wasn’t in school.
Like I was just a person, making stuff.