Got an invitation to my 20th high school reunion a few days ago on Facebook and I have to tell you it threw me. The class that invited me was my class but I moved during high school so I did not technically graduate with that set of kids (went through elementary, jr high and most of high school) but thanks to Facebook, I was included in the invitations and that made me smile. It also made me think. It made me think about my high school experience and how miserable I was back then.
I spent this last weekend with Hoss and our friend, Bryan and it was wonderful listening to them catch up. They had that great high school experience that so many do. Glory Days by Bruce Springsteen comes to mind every time they are together. Heck, when Hoss and any of his old friends are together its like that. I am happy for them that they can recall so many fond memories and crazy things they did (and probably shouldn't have). I however do not have those memories.
You see, jr/high school was a nightmare for me. One of the worst times of my life. My home life was far worse than anyone could have imagined. What ever hell I was given at school was nothing compared to what I went through at home but no one ever stopped to notice. I was picked on mercilessly because I was different. I did not fit into the preppy, popular mold that was so prevalent at the school to say the least. I was tormented for my clothes by kids who had no idea that I only had 3 pair of pants to my name. Once, My Grandmother bought me some new La Gear high tops to start school with and I was made fun of for my "generic" shoes but the funny thing was by the end of the school year, everyone wore La Gear shoes and I was then being made fun of for my ragged shoes, "trying to fit in". Funny cause I was wearing them 1st. I could not catch a break.
I was teased constantly because of my hair. It had a mind of its own and my mother forced me to get these horrible hair cuts that only made it worse. I never had anyone to teach me how to style my hair, wear make up, none of those things. To this day, I don't wear makeup. I have no idea where to start so I just have never used it. Those kids who tormented me had no idea that I did not have a mom or a sister like they did to show them these things, they just made fun of me because I was different.
My solitude was Band. I had a wonderful director named Mr. Wayne Childers. He was the only teacher who saw past the anger and the misfit. He saw me. He even went to battle with a certain teacher over her daughters treatment of me in Band. I didn't even have her as a teacher but she was horrible to me and so was her daughter. Why you ask? Because they could be. No one would stop it. Even when there was witnesses to things, it was always my fault. Just because I was different. Mr. Childers was that one person at the school that I felt like cared. He got me through some bad, bad days. He encouraged me and told me I was better than I thought, better than I was told I was. I will forever be thankful for him, cigarette smoke, chest high pants and all.
While I am a strong, confident adult these days, somewhere inside that scared teenage still lives and she just has no desire to see those people who hurt her all those years ago. It's hard to let go of hurt, it just is. I tell myself that we are all adults now and that was a long time ago and most days I believe that. I know they did not understand, with their teenage brains, what kind of hurt they inflicted on others. I know that, I really do. I am just not sure I want to see those people and I know they will be there. I must admit, I am still on the fence about attending the reunion for that reason.
I was such an angry kid. I was tormented every minute, at home and at school. I hated school. I hated my classmates. They were horrible to me. They were horrible to others just like me. They just never let up. I did have a little group of friends, who like me were different. We were our own little Isle of Misfit Toys. I am still in contact with those people. They know who they are and they know if they ever need me, I am there. The rest of the school? What happened to them?
Well, I'll tell you. The Bowling For Soup song, High School Never Ends is so fitting for some of those kids. Some of those kids grew up into adult versions of their high school personalities. They are still cutting down those who are different, those who in their opinion have less than they do. They are the same sad kids they were 20 years ago. I feel bad for them. The rest of us grew up. Must be sad to be forever 16. To be forever concerned with status and possessions to the point that you are willing to belittle people to make yourself feel good. No one thinks you are all that, we see you for what you are, which is sad.
Some of those kids who were not my friend in school are now. They have grown into such beautiful people. 20 years ago had you asked me if I would even be speaking to some of them I would have laughed at you and called you crazy. I'm not laugh now though. Those classmates who got out in the world and realize there was so much more to it than eel skin purses and Swatch watches have just become the sweetest adults. Life has taught them some important lessons. Now, if they see someone being treated like I was, they are all over it and they have raised their children to be better. That makes the awkward, abused, neglected kid I used to be so very happy. It gives you hope, you know? It really does and to them I say, thank you.
Life has a way of changing you. Some times for the good and some times not. While I cannot change my childhood, I can choose to move on from it and I think I have. Its just once in awhile, something like this brings it all back and forces me to deal with it all one more time.
To those who read this and wonder if you were one of the ones who tormented me, odds are yes, you were. Understand that I forgive the child you were and only ask that you be a better adult. Most of you already have and that goes a long way in healing old wounds. WHS Class of 1994, I don't know if I will be at the reunion or not. I may get uninvited after this post, who knows? Odds are I will come. I will come if for no other reason than to show that I survived and life is indeed good.
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