No, it's not a school to train you to be governor. It's a school that's supposed to make you a great artist.
I don't know your perception of the South Carolina Governor's School for the Arts and Humanities. There's a good chance you've got it confused with the other Governor's School -- the Governor's School for Science and Mathematics. That school is in Hartsville. The Governor's School for the Arts and Humanities is in downtown Greenville.
Maybe you see my school as an inferior version of the School for Science and Mathematics. In other words, you may see the Governor's School for the Arts and Humanities as a haven for academic wannabes who can't do math. Or maybe you've heard rumors of it being a school of lunatics who splash paint on a canvas and call it art. Well, I'll be returning soon for my senior year, but I want to tell everyone about the school before I leave.
First, a little about me. I'm from a farm in Rowesville, and for most of my academic life, I attended the public schools there. I applied to the South Carolina Governor's School for the Arts and Humanities during my 10th-grade year in creative writing. The primary focus of the Governor's School is to turn young people who show potential in the arts into great artists. They do this by convincing you that you're a terrible artist. They humble you to build you up, sort of like the army, except instead of shooting at Iraqis, you get to play the viola.
The Governor's School has programs in creative writing, dance, drama, music and visual arts. It has normal academic classes (like history and English) and then, instead of electives, offers a three-hour class every day in whatever art area you focus on. You can only focus on one art area. It's a boarding school, and it takes juniors and seniors in high school. Dance will take students in ninth grade. So if you're young and hate your parents, learn ballet.
Students enjoy a wonderful environment, for the school overlooks the beautiful Cleveland Park and Reedy River located there. Don't drink the water in the Reedy -- it's terribly polluted, but beautiful just the same.
I was not alone in the application process. My friend applied to the other one, the Governor's School for Science and Mathematics. Before I applied, I went to a special lecture given by the creative writing teachers and offered at the school for interested students. They gave me a yellow list of authors to read. This would come in handy for the interview, where I would be asked what I read. All writing is not considered equal by the teachers at the Governor's School. Flannery O'Connor -- good; Harry Potter -- death.
After the application and the interview, there was the long, long wait. I waited for my letter, and my friend waited for his. I could spend a lot of time building up the story to a climax here by saying the things my friend and I talked about. I could make up a bunch of details about me checking the mailbox every day, or spending endless nights worrying about the letter. But I won't because I don't remember what we talked about, and I never checked the mailbox every day and I don't remember staying up late. That sort of thing is for stories.
One day, a teacher at Branchville High School asked me if I had received my letter yet. I told her I hadn't, and then my friend said, "Johnny, I got my letter. I didn't get in." He said it at a rapid pace, as if he wanted to get it over with -- like a person getting a shot or a child pulling off a Band-Aid from his skin.
On Friday, April 13, 2007, my letter finally came. When I told my friend I got in, I sensed a sadness in his voice. "You did?" he said. It was just a little sadness, but I sensed it. And I wonder how it made him feel when the teacher announced my acceptance to her class. I wonder how it made him feel when I stood up, when the class applauded. It would have been so wonderful if we both could have gotten in, if they had applauded for both of us.
And so, I left my friend and went to Greenville. I did quite well there, becoming Junior Class president and getting more applause, but somewhere in there, I stopped thinking so much about my friend back home. There was so much work to be done. Many a night, I stayed up late in the hallway of my dorm room working on a paper, a story, or studying for a chemistry test the next day. And, of course, I had new friends -- singers, poets, painters -- and I had to spend time with them. So much money was wasted on the coffee shops there -- Starbucks, Coffee Underground, Java Port City. Not to mention the activities offered. I played Thomas Jefferson for National History Day. I represented China in Model U.N. And, of course, you've got to do your community service for your college application. It's your duty to humanity. There was just so little time. I never even gave my friend a call.
I would encourage anyone who shows skills in the arts to apply to the South Carolina Governor's School for the Arts and Humanities. It's a wonderful opportunity, and it's made me a much better writer.
Just don't forget what -- or who -- you've left behind.
John Ott Jr. is the son of John and Cindy Ott of Rowesville.