When I was growing up, I thought I had a pretty good view of the world. After all, I knew kids who went to a whole lot of different private schools. Now that I have watched my daughter go through one year and a few weeks of public school, I realize how much I didn’t know back then.

I have had nieces and nephews go through public school, and my wife is a public school graduate.

But I’m finding out little by little that my image of public school is way out of whack with reality.

I put in a lot of time and effort as a teenager forming that image by watching John Hughes movies over and over again. Imagine my surprise when I found out that 80s movies did not accurately portray life in a public school.

I figured that maybe my other source of information was more accurate, but then my wife told me that “Saved by the Bell” wasn’t accurate either.

I was crushed. What is life coming to when you find out that John Bender and Zack Morris were merely fictional characters and not true representations of public school students?

Now I have to prepare myself totally differently for when Bridget grows up. This is going to take some time getting used to.

I had figured that she would fit easily into one of the clearly-defined social groups that public school offered. The athletes didn’t mix with the smart kids who didn’t mix with the artsy kids who didn’t mix with the stoners.

I figured everybody believed that. How else can you explain the popularity of “The Breakfast Club?” As a wrestler, I could poke holes in the Emilio Estevez character, but I figured John Hughes nailed everything else perfectly.

The only way those worlds could collide was through a Saturday detention with limited attendance or through love that could not be denied regardless of different social circles.

And that wasn’t always easy because you needed a special dance or a big party for the two teens to realize that their love and their love only could bride the gap between the cliques.

That’s where The Smiths or the Thompson Twins or The Psychedelic Furs came into the picture. Because artsy-looking New Wave bands from England were the glue that held together clichés about public schools.

Now I have to face a whole different world. I have to try and wrap my mind around the thought that Bridget and her friends might live in a world that would blow John Hughes’ mind.

She might go to a school where the jocks don’t all gang up on the smart kids. And where the kid who wears quirky thrift-store clothes just might have a chance with the head cheerleader. Her teachers might fall somewhere between incredibly laid back and really uptight.

Imagine the possibilities.

Even though I have learned all this, I won’t stop trusting television and movies. Because that’s where I get all my real information. The rest of the world is just out to confuse me.