There are lessons we don't learn in high school

This is the season for high school graduations.

For students, it's a time to celebrate years of achievement. For parents, it's an opportunity to reflect on how quickly kids grow up.

Amazingly, 50 years have gone by since I started at Wenatchee High School with nervous expectations and a reluctant sense of inadequacy. The big walls of that old brick building were more than a little intimidating.

If only I'd realized how much I'd learn after high school, I might not have felt so apprehensive.

Here are five life lessons I've learned since graduation:

1. Labels are for pickle jars, not people.

When I was in school, there was a caste system of sorts. Among those labeled were the brains, the band dorks, the jocks and the smokers. I was one of the dorks who played alto sax, sang in the choir and tried out for the school musicals. I knew classmates in all the other groups, but I tended to hang with my own.

Not until our 30th class reunion did it dawn on me how I had misjudged my peers back in school. Here were insecure people just like me, wanting to be accepted and to succeed. If only I had looked beyond labels back then.

2. People don't care what you believe until they believe you care.

As early as high school, I was sensing a call to the ministry. Those who knew me best knew what I would become. Some of my friends even called me "Pastor Precious."

But, looking back, I wasn't very precious in my attitude toward peers who didn't share my faith. I fostered a "holier-than-thou" attitude to some and kept my distance from others.

It would take years for me to realize that bridges that connect to another's heart are built with bricks cured in kilns of genuine compassion and care.

3. Practice does not make perfect, but it makes perfect sense.

While practicing my saxophone did result in advancing to first chair in the school band, I never would perfect my skill to earn a scholarship or pursue a career in music. All the same, those countless hours with my instrument were hardly wasted.

In the past half-century of living, I've discovered that practicing pays big dividends. Be it in the pulpit, at a computer keyboard, in the kitchen or on the golf course, doing a task over and over improves your ability and gives you a sense of confidence. Taking time to hone a skill increases your effectiveness, even when there's room for improvement.

4. Physically fit people die healthier.

I forget how many years I had to wear husky jeans (and that designation did not mean the University of Washington logo was on the back pocket). I struggled through high school comparing myself to those who were more athletically inclined or physically coordinated.

The patches I earned in the local youth bowling league didn't impress my peers who were earning a letter in football or basketball. But, in the years beyond graduation, I've come to see that there's much more to being healthy than simply being fit or athletic.

Even those who accomplish impressive feats on the field or on a court can't live forever. The inevitability of death redefines life's priorities.

5. A date to the prom matters less than learning to dance with adversity.

School dances were a source of stress for me. I'd grown up in a faith culture that frowned on dancing. Although my folks eventually gave me permission to go, I lacked confidence in my ability on the dance floor.

Looking back, the perspiration that puddled in my hands associated with going to the prom wasn't worth sweating over. It was but a drop in the bucket when compared to freestyle steps that tough times demand.

I've discovered unplanned difficulties must be embraced while the mirror-ball spins overhead. But, dance lessons aren't required here. "Dancing with the scars" simply calls for a determination to face the music and live out the commitments you've made to family, friends and God.

• The Rev. Greg Asimakoupoulos is a former Naperville resident who writes regularly about faith and family.