Welcome Back. You're Still Subordinate

I never attended the Superdance at my school. A student in 1975 came down with Cystic Fibrosis. There was no cure and nothing anyone could do so students had to watch a classmate endure a fatal illness. The Superdance continues to this day as does Cystic Fibrosis.

I did not attend dances in high school. I more than made up for it at The Phoenician. Amazing how I can always connect those two. The time was right later in life to dance like no one was watching. Didn't interest me in school.

Alumni were invited to join the festivities. Entering around the halfway point I looked around. One of the parents was a customer on my paper route. Her daughters attended the school at this point and it was nice seeing her.

By no means was I interested in high school students enjoying themselves on the dance floor. Looking around for classmates? I saw no one recognizable. One familiar face reared his ugly head.

The vice principal tapped me on the shoulder asking what I was doing there. His tone made me glad he did not have handcuffs. I told him why I was there. Treating me like a student and not a graduate made me want to go home.

This was not a good man. Maybe he was nice to certain people and he was a Vietnam Veteran. He also smoked a foul smelling cigar on campus. When he caught students who smoked in the bathroom (a foolish thing to do) he entered, inhaled and blowing smoke on the students said "You're not allowed to smoke in here."

That's a dick move and one reason I am glad smoking is essentially outlawed indoors. I am tolerant of smokers. Not of jerks. Anyway, I walked around trying to avoid another encounter with a middle aged man who should have better things to do and found some teachers who were watching the NCAA Tournament.

I spoke about that. There was a nice conversation with faculty members. They weren't all jerks. My last stop was the alumni area set up near the balcony of the auditorium. A couple guys behind me were up there. I vaguely recognized them, told them what happened with the Vice principal and they could relate.

They had lockers next to the Disciplinary Office. In junior year my locker was next to the door to Room 211. There was no avoiding you know who. I would not see him after that. Feeling unwelcome I did not return to the school for nearly twenty years. There was no reason to consider making a donation.

Any money I gave to the school would have gone to more fences that made the school look like the kind of institution one should avoid. After his retirement the extra fences were removed and hopefully students do not live in fear of educators. There is a way to treat other people. Assuming they are criminals? You're doing it wrong.