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I had one of those high school anxiety dreams last night. Over the years they progressed from not knowing my locker combination, to showing up for a test I didn't know a thing about, to realizing I hadn't been to class X in awhile and not remembering where it was held or who else was in the class I could follow.
There were weird things that happened when I was wide awake in high school, so no wonder decades later I still have high school dreams. Do you have any weird stories from high school days?
Freshman year: For several years leading up to my first year in high school the Freshmen had attended the Junior High far way (closer to my house) on the other side of the school district. Our district was growing fast from before I started going to school at all. It wasn't odd that we got moved around a bit as space was available in new schools or old. My sister was in the first class to graduate from our district's high school, I was in the last since the next year they moved to a larger new building. At any rate with four years of kids instead of three in the old high school, it was pretty crowded. Freshmen at least had to share lockers. I arrived at my locker the first day, opened it saw there were already some things on the top shelf, and heard a soprano voice say nearby, "Yes, you have a locker partner." I was a bit surprised that my locker partner was a girl, but, hey, we were growing up and needed to act more adult now that we were in *HIGH SCHOOL.* So I said nothing and we were locker partners for a few months. Then we got an announcement over the school intercom directly from the principal, that he'd found out that girls and boys were sharing lockers, (and I suppose some parents wouldn't be so adult about hearing that!) It seemed according to the principal's tone, that having coed lockers was akin to kids having sex in the hallways on parent-teacher-meeting nights. Anyway, woe betide us if it didn't stop. I understood it had been a simple mistake when they assigned the lockers. My locker partner had an unusual first name, and her first and last name together were exactly the same as a male celebrity of those times. I mentioned my situation to a friend, who immediately said he had no locker partner and would be happy to have me move in with him. So I went to the school office explained the situation to a secretary and said I would immediately move out to my friend's locker. "No, no, no!" exclaimed the secretary. "We'll move her." So I ended up with a whole locker to myself. I never had a class with that girl, and actually never saw her again. Did they make her wear a scarlet 'A' on her blouse for the rest of the year? Did they ship her off to a nunnery? After all these years, I suspect the reason we didn't have to explain to the principal was that the secretaries knew they'd made a few honest mistakes and didn't want the principal to find it was all their fault.
Sophomore year: The Freshmen were back at the Junior High, so things were not nearly as crowded, so more relaxed. A few weeks into class, when I was at my locker first thing in the morning in one of the busier hallways, I started getting tapped on the shoulder. I'd turn to see who it was, but they always disappeared into the crowd before I could identify them. At some point they got careless enough that I saw it was a girl's hand. It would happen once or twice a month. To this day I don't know her identity. I wasn't exactly popular in high school. I couldn't then and can't now imagine it was a secret admirer. I can think of two or three girls I sat near in one class or another and talked to regularly, who it could have been. But I just don't know.
Junior year: It was my fault. In Spanish class, by chance I happened to sit beside an absolutely gorgeous, red-head cheerleader. One would think I wouldn't move for any reason. But oddly a month or so into the school year, I came in Monday morning knowing I'd fallen for the girl sitting behind her. By the next morning, my hormones were saying I had to move seats! So I came in and sat beside the new girl. The guy who'd sat there since the beginning of the year came in and not surprisingly said, "Hey, you're in my seat!" I replied, "So, sit somewhere else," gesturing to my old chair. He took the hint. Poor guy. He had to sit beside the sexy cheerleader for the rest of the year. Yes, I did get up the nerve and started going out with my new neighbor-girl.
Senior year: Not my fault. I was a good, but not great student in high school, top ten percent in a class of about 600. The scoring in my high school was strict and I only came close to getting straight "A"s once. It came time for the picking of students for the National Honor Society. I had to fill out a form with a bunch of other seniors, so I knew I was being considered. I didn't expect to be chosen. First period I had Journalism class, I'm on the student newspaper staff that term. By coincidence I have a another class in the same room the next period that year. It's the day of the announcement of the selections. From kids coming in from the hall, we learn there are three students outside the classroom door waiting to come in when the names are announced to pin something on those chosen. My journalism teacher hasn't left the room, which is odd. She notices that we notice she's sitting there with a camera in lap. So she says that she has to wait for the announcements so she'll know where to go. Riiiight, anything you say... Three kids are going to be picked from the room and about half the next class was in her journalism class. I was sitting beside one of the guys who is also a candidate. They start announcing names in alphabetical order. The names of a couple girls in our room were announced and the guy beside me and I start saying, "It's you." "No, it's you," back and forth... Finally a name of someone not in our room with a name alphabetically beyond my friend is announced. With a stupid, sheepish grin, I say "It's me." My name is announced, I stand up, a girl I know comes in and pins me, and my journalism teacher photographs us together. A day or so later I realize there is something embarrassing about to happen. We took turns doing editor jobs on the newspaper. That week, I was slated to be editor of the front page. The teacher didn't even give me the copy that week to look over and arrange on the page. Nope, she did the whole page herself. The paper comes out and there, right in the top middle, I am getting pinned. I get the business when I get on the bus to go home. Some of this is my fault because I've been teasing a few sophomores by refusing to tell them my real name! They grinned and happily said my name, and asked me if the girl in the picture was my girlfriend. Fortunately, I doubt any of them read the paper carefully enough that day to find out, I was listed the editor of the page that my own name and picture appeared on, like some fathead.
There were weird things that happened when I was wide awake in high school, so no wonder decades later I still have high school dreams. Do you have any weird stories from high school days?
Freshman year: For several years leading up to my first year in high school the Freshmen had attended the Junior High far way (closer to my house) on the other side of the school district. Our district was growing fast from before I started going to school at all. It wasn't odd that we got moved around a bit as space was available in new schools or old. My sister was in the first class to graduate from our district's high school, I was in the last since the next year they moved to a larger new building. At any rate with four years of kids instead of three in the old high school, it was pretty crowded. Freshmen at least had to share lockers. I arrived at my locker the first day, opened it saw there were already some things on the top shelf, and heard a soprano voice say nearby, "Yes, you have a locker partner." I was a bit surprised that my locker partner was a girl, but, hey, we were growing up and needed to act more adult now that we were in *HIGH SCHOOL.* So I said nothing and we were locker partners for a few months. Then we got an announcement over the school intercom directly from the principal, that he'd found out that girls and boys were sharing lockers, (and I suppose some parents wouldn't be so adult about hearing that!) It seemed according to the principal's tone, that having coed lockers was akin to kids having sex in the hallways on parent-teacher-meeting nights. Anyway, woe betide us if it didn't stop. I understood it had been a simple mistake when they assigned the lockers. My locker partner had an unusual first name, and her first and last name together were exactly the same as a male celebrity of those times. I mentioned my situation to a friend, who immediately said he had no locker partner and would be happy to have me move in with him. So I went to the school office explained the situation to a secretary and said I would immediately move out to my friend's locker. "No, no, no!" exclaimed the secretary. "We'll move her." So I ended up with a whole locker to myself. I never had a class with that girl, and actually never saw her again. Did they make her wear a scarlet 'A' on her blouse for the rest of the year? Did they ship her off to a nunnery? After all these years, I suspect the reason we didn't have to explain to the principal was that the secretaries knew they'd made a few honest mistakes and didn't want the principal to find it was all their fault.
Sophomore year: The Freshmen were back at the Junior High, so things were not nearly as crowded, so more relaxed. A few weeks into class, when I was at my locker first thing in the morning in one of the busier hallways, I started getting tapped on the shoulder. I'd turn to see who it was, but they always disappeared into the crowd before I could identify them. At some point they got careless enough that I saw it was a girl's hand. It would happen once or twice a month. To this day I don't know her identity. I wasn't exactly popular in high school. I couldn't then and can't now imagine it was a secret admirer. I can think of two or three girls I sat near in one class or another and talked to regularly, who it could have been. But I just don't know.
Junior year: It was my fault. In Spanish class, by chance I happened to sit beside an absolutely gorgeous, red-head cheerleader. One would think I wouldn't move for any reason. But oddly a month or so into the school year, I came in Monday morning knowing I'd fallen for the girl sitting behind her. By the next morning, my hormones were saying I had to move seats! So I came in and sat beside the new girl. The guy who'd sat there since the beginning of the year came in and not surprisingly said, "Hey, you're in my seat!" I replied, "So, sit somewhere else," gesturing to my old chair. He took the hint. Poor guy. He had to sit beside the sexy cheerleader for the rest of the year. Yes, I did get up the nerve and started going out with my new neighbor-girl.
Senior year: Not my fault. I was a good, but not great student in high school, top ten percent in a class of about 600. The scoring in my high school was strict and I only came close to getting straight "A"s once. It came time for the picking of students for the National Honor Society. I had to fill out a form with a bunch of other seniors, so I knew I was being considered. I didn't expect to be chosen. First period I had Journalism class, I'm on the student newspaper staff that term. By coincidence I have a another class in the same room the next period that year. It's the day of the announcement of the selections. From kids coming in from the hall, we learn there are three students outside the classroom door waiting to come in when the names are announced to pin something on those chosen. My journalism teacher hasn't left the room, which is odd. She notices that we notice she's sitting there with a camera in lap. So she says that she has to wait for the announcements so she'll know where to go. Riiiight, anything you say... Three kids are going to be picked from the room and about half the next class was in her journalism class. I was sitting beside one of the guys who is also a candidate. They start announcing names in alphabetical order. The names of a couple girls in our room were announced and the guy beside me and I start saying, "It's you." "No, it's you," back and forth... Finally a name of someone not in our room with a name alphabetically beyond my friend is announced. With a stupid, sheepish grin, I say "It's me." My name is announced, I stand up, a girl I know comes in and pins me, and my journalism teacher photographs us together. A day or so later I realize there is something embarrassing about to happen. We took turns doing editor jobs on the newspaper. That week, I was slated to be editor of the front page. The teacher didn't even give me the copy that week to look over and arrange on the page. Nope, she did the whole page herself. The paper comes out and there, right in the top middle, I am getting pinned. I get the business when I get on the bus to go home. Some of this is my fault because I've been teasing a few sophomores by refusing to tell them my real name! They grinned and happily said my name, and asked me if the girl in the picture was my girlfriend. Fortunately, I doubt any of them read the paper carefully enough that day to find out, I was listed the editor of the page that my own name and picture appeared on, like some fathead.
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The 1960s that people think of these days were just the last few years of the decade. Kids my age did not so much rebel against the nonsense, as just decided we weren't going to put up with it at all. We over did it, for sure... It didn't do away with prudish parents and school administrators, but at least there were some afterward who were less worried about a guy standing too close to a girl when they were hanging up their coats.