on returning to high school
Today was Feast day at Delta, my old high school. Ian reminded me yesterday afternoon, and I told Nathaniel, who looked aggrieved at the prospect of getting out of bed by 10:30 (Feast started at 11), but agreed when I promised to bring him a coffee.
Delta Feast is an annual tradition, usually held the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. It's basically a school-wide potluck. When I went to Delta, the type of dish you were supposed to bring depended on your last name. A-G is side dish, H-M a salad, etc. My parents have different last names, far enough apart alphabetically that I would choose which kind of dish I'd like to bring, depending on how I felt. I assume they still use a similar method (although today there were an awful lot of potato-themed dishes, weird). Anyway, this year the Wednesday before Thanksgiving ended up being a snow day, so they rescheduled Feast for today.
Ian, Nathaniel, and I sat in the back of the auditorium and watched the pre-Feast All School Meeting, bouncing on the rickety wooden and vinyl seats that still swhooshed out air when you sat on them. Ian pointed out, somewhat incredulously, that it's been eight years since he and I graduated (four years for Nathaniel; he still recognized some a few folks). Eight years! And yet, sitting in the auditorium for another ASM, clapping for people's birthdays (we always applaud folks who celebrate birthdays in the coming weeks), listening to announcements, eight years felt like no time at all.
For a school that's called the Delta Program, it's remarkable how little it really changes. The student body changes, of course, and the staff changes (albeit much more slowly: just last year they said goodbye to Bill the PE teacher and Tom the science teacher, both of whom had taught at Delta for over fifty cumulative years), but the underlying structure, the Delta-ness of Delta, remains the same. That's one of the reasons why I love that school so much.
Yes. I love--not even past-tense--my high school. As Ian said later, teenage years are a ridiculous time to be a person, but if you had to spend that ridiculous time in school, Delta is vastly preferable over anywhere else we knew.
To conclude the ASM and send everyone off to Feast, Lynda the history teacher stood up and announced the First Annual Pre-Feast Dance Party. She and several students then passed out glow sticks, another teacher pulled the curtains closed, and started blasting something that sounded an awful lot like this. For several glorious minutes, all you could see were a bunch of pink, green, and blue glow-sticks and dimly-lit bodies jumping around on the stage.
Ian, Nathaniel, and I looked at one another, laughing, and agreed that Delta was basically the best.
...
Feast itself was great, too. Yay.
Delta Feast is an annual tradition, usually held the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. It's basically a school-wide potluck. When I went to Delta, the type of dish you were supposed to bring depended on your last name. A-G is side dish, H-M a salad, etc. My parents have different last names, far enough apart alphabetically that I would choose which kind of dish I'd like to bring, depending on how I felt. I assume they still use a similar method (although today there were an awful lot of potato-themed dishes, weird). Anyway, this year the Wednesday before Thanksgiving ended up being a snow day, so they rescheduled Feast for today.
Ian, Nathaniel, and I sat in the back of the auditorium and watched the pre-Feast All School Meeting, bouncing on the rickety wooden and vinyl seats that still swhooshed out air when you sat on them. Ian pointed out, somewhat incredulously, that it's been eight years since he and I graduated (four years for Nathaniel; he still recognized some a few folks). Eight years! And yet, sitting in the auditorium for another ASM, clapping for people's birthdays (we always applaud folks who celebrate birthdays in the coming weeks), listening to announcements, eight years felt like no time at all.
For a school that's called the Delta Program, it's remarkable how little it really changes. The student body changes, of course, and the staff changes (albeit much more slowly: just last year they said goodbye to Bill the PE teacher and Tom the science teacher, both of whom had taught at Delta for over fifty cumulative years), but the underlying structure, the Delta-ness of Delta, remains the same. That's one of the reasons why I love that school so much.
Yes. I love--not even past-tense--my high school. As Ian said later, teenage years are a ridiculous time to be a person, but if you had to spend that ridiculous time in school, Delta is vastly preferable over anywhere else we knew.
To conclude the ASM and send everyone off to Feast, Lynda the history teacher stood up and announced the First Annual Pre-Feast Dance Party. She and several students then passed out glow sticks, another teacher pulled the curtains closed, and started blasting something that sounded an awful lot like this. For several glorious minutes, all you could see were a bunch of pink, green, and blue glow-sticks and dimly-lit bodies jumping around on the stage.
Ian, Nathaniel, and I looked at one another, laughing, and agreed that Delta was basically the best.
...
Feast itself was great, too. Yay.