Policy OPED

 When I think about Out of School Time (OST), the first thing that comes to mind is soccer. I’ve been playing since I was a little kid, but high school soccer was where it really started to shape me. It wasn’t just a sport—it was kind of my anchor. Honestly, I don’t think I would’ve made half the friends I did in high school without being on that team. Walking into school already knowing people from practice made everything feel less overwhelming. Instead of being nervous about who to sit with at lunch or who I’d bump into in the hallway, I already had a community waiting for me.

The friendships I built on that team weren’t just the kind where you high-five on the field and then go your separate ways. They turned into real, lasting bonds. Long bus rides, running drills in the rain, celebrating wins, and even laughing off the rough losses—it all pulled us together. We started as strangers who just happened to play the same sport, but over time we became something closer to family. By senior year, those teammates were some of the people I trusted most.

What’s funny is that soccer also taught me how to work with people I didn’t necessarily click with at first. When you’re out on the field, it doesn’t matter if you’re best friends or barely talk off the field—you still have to figure out how to trust each other and move as a team. And then, little by little, that forced teamwork turns into real connection. That’s a life skill I still carry with me today.

Reading McKamey and Restler’s piece made me realize that this is exactly what OST is supposed to do. They talk about how these programs give kids opportunities outside of academics—spaces to build confidence, learn social-emotional skills, and just be themselves. That was soccer for me. It gave me a place to grow that wasn’t about grades or tests, but about teamwork, resilience, and friendship.

Looking back, I think high school would’ve felt a lot lonelier without soccer. The field was where I found my voice, where I learned how to push myself, and where I built relationships that made the rest of school feel more manageable. That’s why OST matters so much—it’s not “extra,” it’s essential. For me, soccer was more than a game; it was where I found my people, my confidence, and my own little corner of community.

Like everyone else lately, I’ve been binging Wednesday on Netflix, and while I was watching, I couldn’t help but connect it to the McKamey and Restler reading. At first, I was just in it for the mystery and the sarcastic one-liners, but the more I watched, the more I realized the show isn’t really about what happens in the classroom at Nevermore. Wednesday’s biggest growth happens in all the other spaces—fencing practice, the Poe Cup race, late-night adventures, and the friendships she builds (even though she tries so hard to act like she doesn’t need them).

That clicked for me because McKamey and Restler argue that Out of School Time (OST) programs are where so much of the real learning happens. It’s those moments outside the regular school structure where kids figure out who they are, build confidence, and learn how to work with other people. Watching Wednesday reminded me of my own OST experience—soccer. Playing all through high school gave me the same sense of belonging and community she eventually finds. I made friends I probably never would have without the team, and the practices and games taught me how to work with people I didn’t even know at first. Over time, that turned into bonds that carried me through high school.

So yeah, maybe Nevermore looks nothing like my high school, but the point still stands: what happens outside of class can be just as important—sometimes even more—than what happens in it.