High School + 30 Years: TJ Swann and Miss Foard

"To those of us who knew the pain
Of valentines that never came
And those whose names were never called
When choosing sides for basketball
It was long ago and far away
The world was younger than today
And dreams were all they gave for free
To ugly duckling girls like me...at seventeen..."

Janis Ian said it well -high school isn't easy for everyone. And I'd venture a guess that it really wasn't easy for anyone. How many of us thought long and hard many nights about which image to cultivate, only to find that we are who we are, and aside from good grooming and other outer adjustments, "you" will eventually come through, "whomever" you purpose to be. So you make your way through the halls of the building, ever-conscious (or over-conscious) of making the right steps, saying the right things, and hoping to fit comfortably into this small society, hoping for it to later propel you into larger society as painlessly as possible.

After ten years, things change and you're consumed with building. -Building an education, perhaps a family, &/or a name for yourself somewhere in that larger society, so the high-school consciousness slowly fades and makes room for other things.

At twenty years, many are well on their way to realizing their dreams, be they based on career, family, or simply walking a better road in life. (By this time Ron and I were watching our children graduate and move into their own lives.) One would think that by now, that nervousness in the pit of one's gut in the halls of high school was all but a memory....

And even more so now, at thirty years past graduation, one would think it completely dead and gone. But if we're honest, I think we'd all say that some of that desire to "fit in" and "make the grade" with our classmates will always be there.

Things we ate & drank (like TJ Swann and other hideous fluids), the places we found ourselves (like parties with people nothing like ourselves) and the stunts we pulled (name your favorite from your experience) just to meet people and become a bit more popular, many of us would never admit. And it's my guess that even the most poised, confident soul in our class held dark doubts about him/herself (either well-hidden or well-denied) in order to push on just like the rest of us. And as the years have traveled on around us and it comes up to reunion time, I wonder if, like me, others look at their lives and still wonder if they "make the grade." Do they also take extra time to answer the question, "what do you do now?" or "what do you like to do now?" -hoping to impress? This is our class, after all. In the genesis days of our "image," they, whether we liked it or not, were the jury who would render the final verdict of "pass" or "fail." And though the years and miles now separate us, that mystical bond remains. These names and faces still hold a special power to make us feel like we belong. And, of course, with the immaturity of youth behind us, each decade when we're together, we feel we belong more and more. We seem, in fact, almost like a family in some ways. -Our class in particular, a class that (though very large) I remember as friendly and more exuberant from the start, has made reunion-ing that much more fun (not to mention that Ron & I were classmates as well, so we remember all the same people and share many of the same stories!)

It's that family-like dynamic that I appreciate now so much, and hope to see again this year. In this life, in so many things, you only get one chance. And so it is with "The Class of '80." We could very well have foregone getting together in decades past for the inevitable ritual, or, sadder still, simply not even had reunions and passed on into stranger-hood forever. But our Class of '80 is a rare gem, as I see it: when we gather, MANY gather, and really enjoy one another. We visit with some classmates whom we barely knew in school as though we were old friends because of a simple common bond: we walked those halls (nervously) together, and endured the pangs of ugly-duckling youth and the land mines of rejection as one soul.

Now, as nearly fifty-year olds (gulp) and many of us already grandparents (Ron & I four times over) we turn the corner from young adulthood into middle age, (in itself an imposing venture) with the warmth of (among others) the blessing of this "family" to take off the chill. And the awareness that, in a larger sense, we are all in this thing together, so we may as well have a blast and revel in every bit of closeness that we can muster. For whatever it is, God placed us on this earth at the same time and place in a certain moment in time to be a certain "people" and making the most of that would be most pleasing to Him as well.

So out comes my old class ring (at least 'till after the party) and out will come the memories again, for a while. Ron & I will dust off stories told about sports, teachers, and woodsies as we look again through those yearbook faces and trinkets that we've saved. all of this fits nicely into our daily efforts to enjoy life to the very fullest that we can, even the very clumsy, nervous days of Central High School and the very special people who made it (and make it) what it is.
-Class of eighty shines on bright, with the pride of Blue and White!