I’m As Free As A Bird…
Our senior class “theme” song was, ironically, “Freebird” by Lynyrd Skynyrd. That’s exactly how I felt as I
walked out of that $*&^%@! school on my graduation day. “I am free as a bird now…”
I HATED my high school years. I
came from the boonies – my elementary/middle school was surrounded by corn
fields. When I turned 14 years old and
entered ninth grade, we were bussed about 25 miles up the road to what I then
considered a “big city”. Looking back,
Franklin was really just a small town but at the time, I thought everyone who
lived there was super rich and uber sophisticated.
To say that I never fit in would be an understatement. I was this short, extremely underweight
little nerd. I had no coordination. I didn’t drink, smoke or do drugs. The only time that I dared to skip class was
in my senior year and my English teacher caught me out in the hallway. I was such a book-loving, play-by-the-rules
student that he just waved at me and kept on walking. I lived in fear for two days that I would be
called to the principal’s office and be suspended but nothing ever
happened. I guess that teacher just
thought it was about time that I did something every normal student did… go
figure.
Don’t get me wrong, I had friends and I still keep in touch with some of
them and get together with them and reminisce over dinner. And I have
reconnected with many others in the last few years on social media. I am still in contact with some of my teachers
from my middle school years as well.
I attended two or three high school reunions since graduating. I noticed that the cliques were alive and
well, after all of these years. Most of
us little “Victory School” people were clustered in one section. I didn’t remember most of the people and I am
sure that they didn’t remember me. At
the last reunion I attended, which I believe was our 20th, a girl
rushed back to our table to inform me – and everyone seated at our table – that
another Victory girl was talking smack about me in the bathroom. “She said that you look just like Carol Brady
from the Brady Bunch and that you were always our English teacher’s pet!” People gasped and swiveled their heads to
gauge my reaction. I admit it – I was
pretty mad. My cousin was sitting at the
table and asked me, “Do you want me to go in there and kick her a$$?!” And my cousin could do that – heck, she did
do that to a lot of people all through school and was definitely my protector. I pondered on my reply longer than I should
have and then I said, “Guys! We are 38
years old! We’re adults! No, you can’t
go in there and kick her a$$!’ (But secretly, yeah, I wanted her to do exactly
that!” “And yes, I was the English
teacher’s pet and yes my hairstyle in kind of like 1970s Carol Brady…”
I was still stewing on the drive home and I angrily told my husband, “I
am NEVER going to another *^!@#$% high school reunion again!” Except, I did attend HIS 40th high
school reunion three years. He went to a
different school than I did, and I discovered that the Mean Girls at his school
were like 75% worse than the ones at my school.
In my old age I have decided to just speak my mind and I called the
nasty people some really, really bad names and said what I thought of all of
them. I was pretty embarrassed over my
meltdown – but my husband and a couple of his friends thought it was the
funniest and truest thing that they had ever heard.
So, will I be attending my 40th reunion? Nope, no way, no how. If I could go back in time, I would tell a
couple of my high school teachers this:
“Mrs. Heckathorn, thanks for
being a great teacher who worked with me to get me through math and
science. You knew these were not my
strong subjects, but you took the time and effort to explain everything to me
and the other students.”
“Miss Muse, I am so sorry that I tried to get out of typing class and
when you refused, that I spend 8 weeks not doing any of my assignments and
instead kept typing up your Last Will and Testament over and over. You gasped when you looked over my shoulder
and read it, but you never said a word.
And when I realized that my efforts to get out of your class were
futile, I had to crank out 8 weeks of assignments in 1 week because failing a
class was not an option for me. The
irony is not lost on me that my career relies on being efficient in
typing. Thank-you.”
“Mrs. Jenkins, I sucked in your home-ec classes and told you that my
future husband would not care if I had tunnels in my biscuits. I was right.
And guess what, I still suck at anything cooking and he does 97% of the
cooking.”
To the principal, “I am still extremely bitter that I graduated high
school with a 3.85 grade point average, but you refused to allow me in the
Honor Society because one 9-week grading period I had an extra study hall. You were a jerk.”
“If I leave here tomorrow
Would you still remember me?”
Guess what, I don’t care if you do…
“Cause
I'm as free as a bird now
And this bird you cannot change”