Are We There yet?

Tonight I am going to my 45th high school reunion. I graduated North East High School in Philadelphia with the class of 1968. (This is the part when all of my younger friends are supposed to gasp and exclaim in as believable a voice possible; "Wow, I didn't think you were that old!") Yes children, I am indeed that old. I came up at a time when 8 track tapes were the next big thing. There were stores dedicated to selling nothing but 8 tracks (Wellington Stereo anyone?). Coffee was a dime, so was a phone call (in booths that were sort of like the Tardis but not nearly as cool). Gas was less than 25¢ a gallon. At Linton's Restaurant you could get two eggs, home fries, bacon and coffee for 59¢. (Okay I know you're already tired of the geezer nostalgia trip so I'll cut it off here.)

I'd love to be able to report that high school was such a more nurturing and positive environment in 1968 that it is in 2013, but that's not my memory.  There was bullying, there was cruelty, there was racism and homophobia, there was occasionally fighting in the halls.  What there was not, was a whole lot of adult involvement.  I've heard commentators and even some community members speak of the "old days" with its ethos of "boys will be boys," as somehow superior to the awareness parents and children have of the harm that can be done by the above so-called innocent behaviors and the need for adults to intervene to change school and communities. Indeed, this past week I was on an anti-bullying panel sponsored by the Bucks County Bar Association, and some of these old canards were pulled out.

In spite of some people's rosy memories of the 50s and 60s, I remember people being teased and bullied, sometimes relentlessly, and often by teachers. (To get an exact picture of NE High School and city schools generally in the 1960s, watch the excellent documentary "High School" by Frederick Wiseman filmed at my high school, largely of my class, in 1968.  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/High_School_(1968_film).
(Spoiler alert: I need to confess that I am indeed in the film, seen making a negative remark about the assassination of Martin Luther King in a history class. I remember thinking: "If I make a negative comment, I'm sure to get in the film!" Such is the critical reasoning of 16 year olds generally, especially an attention hog like me. It shows as well the perceived lack of consequences socially for making what today would be considered an unacceptably racist comment..)

To be different in 1968 was to be ostracized, ridiculed, isolated, and even brutalized.  Absolutely no gay people were "out of the closet" in high school at that time but, if a boy was the least effeminate, he was tortured.  If a girl looked Butch, especially if she declined a few dates with guys, she was called a dike.  There were very few people of color in my high school at the time and, although I don't remember witnessing outright displays of racism, I also don't remember any black or brown people attending after school parties.

In 1968 there was not a very sophisticated understanding of special needs students, learning differences, developmental or learning disabilities.  As a consequence, students who routinely fell behind in class were generally dumped together in classes which were woefully inadequate to meet their educational needs.  I knew several of my classmates who, after 12 years of education in what was at the time one of the best school districts in the state, were functionally illiterate.  The learning challenged who had athletic capability or other talents were able to survive relatively unscathed. Those with difficulties who were smaller and without special abilities had it the worst.

The prevailing wisdom of adults at the time, (and for some still), was to leave the kids alone and they'll work it out.  Well, we all certainly worked it out.  45 years later I still meet people from my graduating class for whom high school was an unrelenting nightmare.  The sad part is, I didn't know.  I don't believe most of my peers who were enjoying the high school experience knew about the torment of our fellow students either, although many of us participated in it.

As Janis Ian famously sang:
"I learned the truth at seventeen,
That love was meant for beauty queens.
In high school girls with clear skinned smiles,
Who married young and then retired.
The valentines I never knew,
The Friday night charades of youth,
Were spent on one more beautiful
At seventeen I learned the truth.

And those of us with ravaged faces
Lacking in the social graces
Desperately remained at home
Inventing lovers on the phone
Who called to say come dance with me
And murmured vague obscenities
It isn't all it seems
At seventeen........

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.

We all play the game and when we dare

To cheat ourselves at solitaire
Inventing lovers on the phone
Repenting other lives unknown
That call and say, come dance with me
And murmur vague obscenities
At ugly girls like me
At seventeen.

© 1975 Janis Ian 

I thought I was a friendly guy. I never ignored people; even went out of my way to make eye contact and say hello. Nevertheless, there was one girl to whom I always said hello, but whose name I could never remember. I liked her, but we didn't have much interaction except, she would routinely ask me to say her name; and I never could. The day we got our yearbooks, she asked to sign mine. In it she wrote, "Now you know! Remember, you're a human being too!" I was stunned.  I had absolutely no idea that I had been hurting this person's feelings by my stubborn refusal to pay enough attention to remember her name.  That something seemingly so insignificant to me could be such a hurt to another, is something I've never forgotten. (Even though I still am terrible with names, I do try harder.)

My graduating class was enormous.  We numbered somewhere in the vicinity of 1200 students.  And yet, getting 200 of us together for a reunion is considered a triumph.  The fact is that for many of my former classmates the idea of revisiting those years is akin to asking a trauma victim to revisit the site of their assault. There is however what appears to be a promising trend.  Many people who lacked connections or popularity in high school are taking the opportunity to cautiously reconnect on Facebook and other social media.  Some of these people are going to be at our reunion tonight; their first reunion in 45 years.  I know they'll be welcomed as lost members of the family, but I believe for many the thought will be; "where were you when we were in high school?"

So this essay is for me and my peers celebrating what we remember fondly of our adolescence 45 years ago. I know that many of us had our own upsets, ridicule, and bullying but this is to help us remember, to help me remember, that many of us were not as talented, beautiful, smart, or funny to get the good stuff that went with the bad.  A lot of us were too small, too big, too unattractive, too intellectually challenged, too different to be included... Ever.

But the essay is also for my many young friends who are still navigating the pitfalls and joys of youth. Things are better than they were 45 years ago for many more people.  As a culture, we look back on the 1950s and 1960s through TV shows and Movies like Madmen, Masters of Sex, 42, The Help, and laugh, sometimes uncomfortably, at the ignorance, misogyny, racism, and homophobia that those poor people back then displayed and experienced. Sure, we have a black president, 14 states have legalized gay marriage, with more certainly to come, more women than men are graduating college and graduate school and women are soon to be approved for combat positions in the military.  We certainly have much about which to be proud.  But do you know the name of that shy, somewhat withdrawn girl or boy in your class?  Do you ever take the time to speak with and get to know someone in your school or organization who is different?

I'm really looking forward to seeing old friends and acquaintances at my reunion tonight.  I do wish however that I could see and interact with the hundreds of people who I and many others shunned or ignored so many years ago.  I'd like to say, "I didn't know."  I'd like to say, "I'm sorry.  I know that things sucked for you back then but I really hope that things improved and that you have found the love and belonging that you always deserved."

Love you all madly,

Dr. John