This afternoon we spent some time cleaning the basement. Hubby Tony worked in the office, and Son Donald and I tackled the clutter in the unfinished area. After storing bags of out-of-season clothes, moving piles of recyclables to the bin, and going through several containers of trinkets, Donald started shuffling things around on the shelves. He pulled out two milk crates and asked me what they were. I took a look, and was transported back in time.
From 2005 until 2008 I was employed by, and then took over, a tutoring center for teenagers who were enrolled in a correspondence school. The students worked at their own pace, and mailed off the tests as they were completed. The purpose of my center was to provide encouragement and assistance to the students as they did the work.
Even though many of my students had credits transfer from their previous schools, the correspondence school still allowed four years to complete their program. Some of my students completed all the requirements with me and received their high school diploma. A few of them left to go back to traditional school, and a few others decided to sit for the GED test. Some of them, though, stopped coming and didn't continue their education on their own.
I got rid of much paper when the center closed, but I held on to everything from the "AWOL" students. If they'd decided to start working on their high school program and needed any of their papers, I wanted to make sure I could provide them. I put the papers in a milk crate, set them on the shelf, and forgot all about them. One of the crates Donald pulled down today held those papers, and the other contained a selection of textbooks.
However, it's now more than four years past the time any of those students started. Even if they came back to me looking for papers they wouldn't be good. I had no use for the textbooks, either. Time for them to go! I put the books in a pile to donate, and the papers went in a pile to shred. The only thing I kept was my business paperwork. Now instead of two milk crates' worth, my things fit in part of one.